A Montpellier, les leçons de laïcité du nouveau maire.

www.liberation.fr/france/2020/11/15/a-montpellier-les-lecons-de-laicite-du-nouveau-maire_1805680

Elu en juin, le socialiste Michaël Delafosse continue son travail de professeur d’histoire-géographie et enseigne trois heures par semaine. «Libération» est allé assister à un cours. Au programme : les Lumières, la tolérance, et le blasphème.

Les grandes tragédies accouchent de toutes sortes de douleurs. Chacun les évalue, les assimile en regard de sa propre expérience. L’assassinat de Samuel Paty a bousculé les consciences. La figure d’un professeur de collège convoque la mémoire du plus grand nombre. Les souvenirs des cours d’école refont surface. Comme après chaque attaque terroriste, certains politiques mènent leurs vendettas personnelles. Après le drame de Conflans-Sainte-Honorine (Yvelines), la gauche s’est de nouveau interrogée sur son rapport à l’islam. Un après-midi, on a composé le numéro du nouveau maire socialiste de Montpellier. Et la discussion a vite bifurqué hors du terrain politique.

Michaël Delafosse, 43 ans, est également professeur d’histoire-géographie dans un collège de sa ville. «Je suis maire mais j’ai gardé une classe de quatrième parce que je ne voulais pas arrêter l’enseignement. C’est important pour moi. Forcément, lorsqu’un professeur de ma génération qui enseigne la même matière et le même programme que moi à des gamins d’un âge équivalent est tué, ça résonne d’une autre manière», lâche-t-il, froidement. L’édile de la cité héraultaise répète à plusieurs reprises : «Ça aurait pu être moi.» La conversation s’achève avec une promesse ; celle d’assister à l’un de ses cours.

Chevalier de La Barre

Vendredi 13 novembre : Michaël Delafosse accompagné de son «chat» (sa femme) dépose ses «loulous» (ses enfants) à l’école. Une habitude familiale. Le maire et la directrice d’hôpital s’organisent pour que la famille passe du temps ensemble. Chaque moment compte. Le professeur – qui enseigne trois heures par semaine – ne cesse de s’arrêter dans la longue montée qui sépare l’école de ses enfants de son collège. L’édile raconte ses plans pour la ville et bavarde avec les passants. Un cycliste, un parent d’élève ou un commerçant qui tire la langue à cause de ce foutu virus. Un sens du contact qui fait dire à ses opposants et ses amis que le maire a un côté «Chirac».

Les portes du collège «populaire» Fontcarrade s’ouvrent : les élèves masqués grimpent les escaliers dans le brouhaha. On s’installe au fond de la classe. Le cours commence. Michaël Delafosse enseigne depuis une vingtaine d’années. Le longiligne affiche le même look depuis ses débuts : costume et cravate. Une forme de «respect» pour la profession, justifie-t-il. Les élèves sont calmes, posés, tandis que l’enseignant ne cesse d’arpenter la pièce. Il ne donne aucun répit : «Merci de sortir le devoir que vous aviez à faire à la maison. Et je passe entre les rangs pour regarder.» Une biographie de Voltaire, au programme. Il circule entre les tables, lit au-dessus des épaules et parfois livre à voix haute une citation du philosophe. Puis, à la fin de sa tournée, il prend une craie et écrit le nom des penseurs majeurs des Lumières.

Les élèves ne découvrent pas leur existence. Montesquieu ? Une fille au premier rang dit : «C’est celui de la séparation des pouvoirs.» Rousseau ? Un garçon qui garde son manteau interroge : «Ce n’est pas celui qui parlait de l’école et de l’éducation ?» Voltaire ? Le mot «respect» revient souvent. Le socialiste préfère «tolérance». Michaël Delafosse invite un cas concret dans son cours : le 28 février 1766, le chevalier de La Barre, 19 ans, est condamné par le présidial d’Abbeville, pour «impiété, blasphèmes, sacrilèges exécrables et abominables», à avoir la langue tranchée, à être décapité et brûlé. Les élèves écoutent. Posent des questions sur le mot «torture». Le professeur n’esquive pas : il conte les «supplices subis» par le jeune chevalier de La Barre.

Polémique politicienne

La veille, attablé à l’heure du dîner en notre compagnie, il est revenu sur la mort de Samuel Paty : «C’était un vendredi, une élue de la mairie m’a envoyé la photo de la tête de mon collègue. Sur le coup je n’ai rien compris.» Ce soir-là, la colère gronde face à la barbarie alentour, puis l’émotion et la douleur, surtout. Pas question de participer à un hommage ou d’allumer des bougies, réagit-il au début. Les jours passent. Le courroux cède le terrain à l’envie de se rassembler. Place de l’Opéra de Montpellier, des collégiens, lycéens et étudiants ont lu l’article 11 de la Constitution avec l’artiste Grand Corps Malade.

Michaël Delafosse s’est toujours imaginé professeur d’histoire-géographie. Il ne sait pas trop pourquoi. C’est comme ça. Le socialiste – qui est engagé depuis la fac – a débuté en Seine-Saint-Denis. Il a fait des remplacements à Villemomble, Aulnay-sous-Bois et au Blanc-Mesnil. Les sentiments s’entremêlent. Il garde en tête les difficultés, la violence, les rires et les succès. Les défaites font également partie du jeu. «Comme les médecins ou les pompiers, on ne peut pas toujours gagner. De temps à autre, on voit un gamin sur le fil et il finit par tomber. Ce n’est jamais facile à vivre, parfois, on pleure ou on dort mal la nuit… mais c’est comme ça, c’est notre métier», conclut-il fataliste.

On tente de toucher un nerf avec une question sur la difficulté d’enseigner certaines matières dans les établissements des quartiers populaires. Il grimpe dans les tours. Michaël Delafosse lâche des «ignares» et «ignorants» au sujet des commentateurs sur les plateaux télé. Le professeur d’histoire-géographie livre quelques anecdotes, comme lorsqu’un jeune à Aulnay-sous-Bois lui dit que le 11-Septembre, c’est de la flûte : «J’ai pris le temps de lui expliquer après le cours, tranquillement, avec des faits, des images.» Il s’irrite encore : «Comment peut-on dire que nous ne pouvons pas enseigner la Shoah ? C’est faux. Evidemment, il y a eu des collègues en difficulté mais dans la très grande majorité des cas, les professeurs parlent de tous les sujets et il y a un dialogue nourri avec les élèves.»

A propos de dialogue, quelques voix s’élèvent à l’extérieur du collège. Une partie de l’opposition municipale reproche au nouveau maire son manque d’échanges. Samedi matin : la gauche tendance insoumise se pointe devant la gare Montpellier-Saint-Roch. La conseillère municipale Alenka Doulain et le militant Rhany Slimane décrivent Michaël Delafosse comme un politicard chevronné qui maîtrise principalement le sens de la communication. Selon eux, il marcherait sur les brisées de l’ancien bourgmestre (1977-2004) de la ville, décédé il y a dix ans. «Georges Frêche a imaginé Montpellier et depuis personne ne propose autre chose, Delafosse n’invente rien. Il veut tout faire comme lui», pourfend Rhany Slimane. Les deux trentenaires rappellent avec un petit sourire en coin que l’ancien hiérarque continuait, lui aussi, à enseigner durant ses nombreux mandats à la mairie.

«Espoir» et «gamins formidables»

Ces derniers temps, une polémique politicienne s’est invitée dans la ville. Le maire a mis en place, comme annoncé pendant sa campagne, une charte de la laïcité que les associations doivent signer avant toute demande de subventions. Un collectif, composé de citoyens et de politiques, a vu le jour pour s’opposer à cette convention. Ils y voient un index pointé en direction des musulmans. La loi 1905 suffit, rétorquent-ils. Rhany Slimane comprend la fronde : «C’est de la communication. Le maire a profité des attentats pour en parler partout dans la presse car c’est un sujet qui va dans le sens du vent.» Alenka Doulain poursuit : «Cette charte divise et c’est malheureux. Mais attention, nous ne sommes pas dans la démagogie, Delafosse peut aussi faire de bonnes choses comme le fait de mettre en place des aides aux devoirs gratuites pour les élèves, afin que l’Etat joue pleinement son rôle dans l’éducation.»

Le maire lève les yeux en l’air face aux accusations. Il propose un cours d’histoire pour rappeler les origines de la laïcité afin de souligner la place de la gauche. «Je ne m’attaque pas à une religion contrairement à une partie de la droite et de l’extrême droite. Chacun a le droit de croire ou non, de pratiquer ou pas, tant que ça reste dans la sphère privée. Je suis pour la tolérance et notre charte respecte la loi de 1905, dit-il avant de plonger dans l’eau. A la piscine, tout le monde sait que les shorts et les caleçons sont interdits mais il y a tout de même le règlement à l’entrée. C’est ce que je fais avec la charte, elle représente le règlement.»

A l’intérieur du collège, c’est plus calme. Le cours touche bientôt à sa fin. Michaël Delafosse propose à ses élèves de lire un texte de Voltaire. Le philosophe dénonce la «barbarie» de la France après la mort du chevalier de La Barre. En bas du texte, une note : l’auteur a écrit ce texte à Genève, en Suisse. L’enseignant explique que Voltaire a dû traverser la frontière car les risques étaient nombreux à l’époque. Il demande lesquels aux élèves qui lâchent en vrac des «torture», «guillotine», «prison», «mort»… «Censure», la bonne réponse, n’arrivera jamais. Le professeur l’explique rapidement et promet de revenir dessus la prochaine fois.

Michaël Delafosse range ses affaires dans son cartable. On fait le point avec lui avant que le professeur ne revête sa panoplie de maire. Lorsqu’on le lance sur la photo de classe, il rétorque : «Je ne regarde jamais la couleur de mes élèves.» Par contre, lorsqu’il raconte ses nombreuses anecdotes, il aime citer les prénoms pour en souligner la diversité. Le professeur fait des gestes de la main pour se replonger dans son cours. Il revient sur le moindre détail. Parle souvent «d’espoir» et de «gamins formidables» qui vivent parfois dans le «dur» à l’extérieur de l’établissement.

L’heure tourne. Michaël Delafosse lâche d’un air confiant : «Les élèves comprennent la complexité de l’histoire. Vous avez vu, aujourd’hui, on a parlé de liberté d’expression, de la pression du religieux. Ils savent tous que ça approche, que bientôt nous allons parler de ce qu’on a vécu en France ces dernières années et ça se passera très bien. En prenant le temps, on fait les choses comme il faut.» Dans une époque où la nuance et le temps long ont été remplacés par l’immédiateté ravageuse, l’élu s’interroge souvent face à la montée de la violence. Il s’inquiète aussi lorsqu’il pense à la crise sociale qui grossit. Le professeur, lui, est un poil plus optimiste.

Rachid Laïreche – envoyé spécial à Montpellier, Libération

Rule of law and COVID-19: the need for clarity, certainty, transparency and coordination

Joelle Grogan highlights some points of concern as regards the UK’s response to the pandemic, and advocates areas in which both governance and policy can be tangibly improved.

The promised six-month review of the Coronavirus Act 2020 has been completed, allowing for the extension of powers under the Act, just as a new three-tier system has been introduced in England, the Welsh Assembly adopted a travel ban from high-infection areas in other parts of the UK, highlighting a complicating factor in evaluation of governmental response to COVID-19 which is the divergence of regimes across the UK, as health policy is a devolved competence.

The scale, scope and impact of regulations limiting private and commercial life is unprecedented, and has raised numerous democratic, rule of law, and human rights concerns. There is no perfect legislative or policy response to the pandemic. There are, however, good practices and principles which can guide action and lead to a more effective response which have been observable globally. Central to any response to the pandemic is legal certainty, transparency in decision-making, clarity in communication, an early reaction, and coordinated strategy. Democratic oversight in the form of parliamentary scrutiny and external engagement can lead to better quality law and policy when governments adapt to criticism.

The Coronavirus Act 2020 notably did not give or extend specific lockdown powers to government. COVID-19 regulations in England have been introduced by government under the Public Health (Control of Disease) Act 1984. The Coronavirus Act 2020 did, however, extend powers to quarantine as well as to restrict or close premises as well as the power to prohibit any gatherings to Ministers in each of the UK’s constitutive governments. The six-month Parliament review was a concession accepted by government, against criticism of the length of the sunset clause (two years, with the option for Parliament-approved six-month extensions) in the Act. It allowed for a debate on the expiry of the Act. Despite many criticisms of both the framework of the act, and the use of powers under it, the vote in the House of Commons was overwhelmingly in favour.

However, six months from the introduction of the Coronavirus Act (and nearly nine months from the declaration of a global health emergency), Parliament is operational and far more is known about viral transmission, yet the inadequacy of parliamentary scrutiny remains. An overwhelming majority of the COVID-19 measures came into force either the same day, or within a day, of being introduced by government and without scrutiny (albeit subject to the affirmative procedure which requires parliamentary approval within 28 days). There is little justification where the underlying legislation allows only for measures to be introduced without parliamentary approval where the urgency demands it to be necessary. This is all the more concerning where, for example, self-isolation rules with fines up to £10,000 for breach were applicable within hours of being introduced.

A significant number of regulations have been announced first in press conferences, or to journalists rather than first before Parliament despite repeated censure by the Speaker and the opposition. Backbench MPs have also increasingly criticised the government for side-lining Parliament during the pandemic, and called for greater oversight and control over the use of powers under the Coronavirus Act 2020 and the Public Health (Control of Disease) Act 1984. The myriad of regulations introduced under these acts (and with very limited scrutiny) has translated into hypertrophied executive dominance but not necessarily better governance. Legal uncertainty has characterised much of the government’s COVID-19 response; the lack of clarity and the absence of long-term strategizing has also often served to undermine policy and compliance.

While lack of clarity was a point of criticism in a parliamentary committee report on the government’s COVID-19 response, a further point of criticism was that there were only a six-month reviews, and there was little provision for more frequent and thematic debates on individual measures. Of course the executive is typically best placed to respond quickly in the initial phases of emergency, but it is unjustifiable to continue doing so without scrutiny where pandemic management has moved from reaction to control. Beyond the point of legality and democratic legitimation of government action (Parliament, not government, is sovereign after all), there are clear and positive practical effects of having more and greater oversight. Debate and scrutiny allow for the identification and remedy of confusion, contradiction, or inconsistencies in the rules. This is even more pressing when the individual impact and restriction of personal liberties is so extreme. In good practice observed internationally, states which learn from error, engage with criticism, and adapt have higher levels of compliance and fare better.

Following initial responses to emergency, it is good practice for governments to use all available information to produce guides which communicate to individuals and businesses what is expected of them; what restrictions apply and do not apply; and when and under what circumstances or conditions the rules will change. This can help effective short- and long-term planning both for the government and for the public. The introduction of a new three-tier system in England (in force two days after being introduced) to replace the regime of local lockdown regulations operating since July 2020 is helpful and a positive step towards a coherent strategy. However, ongoing uncertainty as to what it means in practice, particularly in the complicated underlying regime of exceptions (and potentially exceptions to exceptions), compounded by uncertainty regarding the basis upon which areas will be moved from one tier to the next, risks a medium to high (or very high) level of non-compliance.

A foundation of public trust in government action, and corresponding compliance with COVID-19 measures, is transparency in decision-making. It should include publishing the rationale which underlies the introduction of restrictive measures (or for not introducing restrictive conditions against the advice of SAGE) is important for justifying the positions taken. Simply, it is far easier to follow a rule, when the reasoning underlying that rule is clear. The absence of information invites speculation and false assumptions. There is a clear need for a transparent process by which, for example, areas in England will be moved from one tier to another beyond this being ‘subject to review’ based on ‘a rise in transmission’.

Beyond clarity, certainty, and transparency in legal measures and policies, a final aspect underlining the most effective and sustainable long-term policy in tackling COVID is coordination. This is not as only between central government, devolved administrations, and regional authorities, but beyond that to the international sphere. As all states face a common challenge, there is a wealth of comparative experience from which to draw the best practices in tackling a global health emergency.


Note: the above is based on the recommendations within J Grogan and N Weinberg, ‘Principles to Uphold the Rule of Law and Good Governance in a Public Health Emergency’ RECONNECT Policy Brief.

About the Author

Joelle Grogan is a Senior Lecturer in law at Middlesex

https://blogs.lse.ac.uk/politicsandpolicy/rule-of-law-and-covid19/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+LSEGeneralElectionBlog+%28General+Election+2015%29

The Conservatives are shrinking the state – to make room for money and privilege

Boris Johnson’s talk of restoring sovereignty is a lie. He is handing democratic power to economic elites, not the people. George Monbiot writes in the Guardian 14th October 2020.

The question that divides left from right should no longer be “how big is the state?”, but “to whom should its powers be devolved?”. In his conference speech last week, Boris Johnson recited the standard Tory mantra: “The state must stand back and let the private sector get on with it.” But what he will never do is stand back and let the people get on with it.


The Conservative promise to shrink the state was always a con. But it has seldom been as big a lie as it is today. Johnson grabs powers back from parliament with both fists, invoking Henry VIII clauses to prevent MPs from voting on crucial legislation, stitching up trade deals without parliamentary scrutiny, shutting down remote participation, so that MPs who are shielding at home can neither speak nor vote, and shutting down parliament altogether, when it suits him.


He seeks to seize powers from Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland: the internal market bill appears to enable Westminster to take back control of devolved policies. He imposes the will of central government on local authorities, refusing to listen to mayors and councils while dropping new coronavirus measures on their cities. He claws back powers from the people, curtailing our ability to shape planning decisions; shutting down legal challenges to government policy; using the Coronavirus Act and the covert human intelligence sources bill to grant the police inordinate power over our lives.


His promises to restore sovereignty are lies. While using the language of liberation, he denies power to both people and parliament. He promised to curtail the state, but under his government, the state is bursting back into our lives, breaking down our doors, expanding its powers while reducing ours.


Instead, he gives power away to a thing he calls “the market”, which is a euphemism for the power of private money. This power is concentrated in a small number of hands. When Johnson talks of standing back and letting the private sector get on with it, he means that democratic power is being surrendered to oligarchs.


Under the Conservatives, the state shrinks only in one direction: to make room for money and privilege. It grants lucrative private contracts to favoured companies without advertisement or competitive tendering. It gifts crucial arms of the NHS to failed consultants and service companies. It replaces competent, professional civil servants with incompetent corporate executives.


We need a state that is strong in some respects. We need a robust economic safety net, excellent public services and powerful public protections. But much of what the state imposes are decisions we could better make ourselves. No Conservative government has shown any interest in devolving genuine power to the people, by enabling, for example, a constitutional convention, participatory budgeting, community development, the democratisation of the planning system or any other meaningful role in decision-making during the five years between elections.


The Labour party’s interest in these questions is scarcely more advanced. The 2019 manifesto talked of “urgent steps to refresh our democracy”. It called for a constitutional convention and the decentralisation of power. But these policies were scarcely more than notional: they lacked sustained support from senior figures and were scarcely heard by voters. During his bid to become Labour leader, Keir Starmer announced that “we need to end the monopoly of power in Westminster”. He called for “a new constitutional settlement: a large-scale devolution of power and resources”. Since then we’ve heard nothing.


When challenged on its policy vacuum, Labour argues that “the next general election is likely to be four years away … There’s plenty of time to do that work.” But you can’t wait until the manifesto is published to announce a meaningful restoration of power to the people, and expect it to be understood and embraced. The argument needs to be built – and Labour local authorities, by developing powerful examples of participatory politics, need to show how Starmer’s promised new settlement could work. Instead there’s a sense that the parliamentary Labour party still sees its best means of enacting change as seizing a highly centralised system, and using this system’s inordinate powers to its own advantage.


For many years, Labour relied on trade unions for its grassroots dynamism and legitimacy. But while the unions should remain an important force, they can no longer be the primary forum for participatory politics. Even at the height of industrialisation, when vast numbers laboured together in factories and mines, movements based in the workplace could only represent part of the population. Today, when solid jobs have been replaced by dispersed and temporary employment, and many people work from home, the focus of our lives has shifted back to our neighbourhoods. It is here that we should build the new centres of resistance and revival.


Starmer has so far shown little interest in reigniting the movements that almost propelled Labour to power in 2017. But even if Labour wins an election, without a strong grassroots mobilisation it will struggle to change our sclerotised political system. Any radical political project requires a political community, and this needs to be built across years, not months.
The popular desire to take back control is genuine. But it has been cynically co-opted by the government, which has instead passed power from elected bodies to economic elites. The principal task of those who challenge oligarchic politics in any nation is to offer genuine control to the people, relinquishing centralised power and rewilding politics. Yes, the state should stand back. It should stand back for the people, not for the money.


• George Monbiot is a Guardian columnist

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2020/oct/14/conservatives-state-money-privilege-boris-johnson-power?CMP=Share_iOSApp_Other

What has gone wrong with England’s Covid test-and-trace system?

It was supposed to be ‘world beating’ but experts say it is having only a ‘marginal impact’

Robert Booth Social affairs correspondentPublished: 19:57 Tuesday, 13 October 2020 Follow Robert Booth

When the NHS test-and-trace system was launched in late May, Boris Johnson promised it would help “move the country forward”. We would be able to see our families, go to work and stop the economy crumbling.

In the absence of a vaccine, the prime minister’s “world-beating” system would be worth every penny of the £10bn funding that Rishi Sunak announced in July. The chancellor said it would enable people to carry on normal lives.

Now as pubs are ordered to close, extended families are forced to stop meeting and intensive care beds fill up fast, the government’s Sage scientific advisers have concluded NHS test and trace is not working.

Too few people are getting tested, results are coming back too slowly and not enough people are sticking to the instructions to isolate, they say.

The system “is having a marginal impact on transmission”, as a result, and unless it grows as fast as the epidemic that impact will only wane.

So what’s going wrong?

Over centralised from the start … 

Tasked in spring with rolling out millions of coronavirus tests, the health secretary, Matt Hancock, opted for a centralised system using private firms. The business consultancy, Deloitte, was handed a contract to help run testing through local drive-in and walk-in test sites, with swabs being sent for analysis at a network of national laboratories, many also outsourced. Serco was also handed a deal to run contact tracing, subcontracting work to other firms as well.

The stakes for their success were high. An Imperial College study found if test and trace worked quickly and effectively, the R number could potentially be reduced by up to 26%.

https://interactive.guim.co.uk/uploader/embed/2020/10/tracing-test-results-chart/giv-3902WcQTbLtrEWu8/

Local directors of public health knew this from experience of tackling sexually transmitted diseases and food poisoning outbreaks, but their role was limited, leaving many exasperated that they were being cut out.Advertisement

As the system got up and running over the summer, ONS surveys of the virus prevalence suggested NHS test and trace might only be picking up a quarter of actual cases.

In July, one of the system’s senior civil servants, Alex Cooper, admitted privately the system was only identifying 37% of the people “we really should be finding”. The clamour from mayors and local public health officials for a bigger role grew.

Finally this week the government admitted cities and regions should be given help to do more.

https://interactive.guim.co.uk/uploader/embed/2020/10/tracing-closecontact-chart/giv-3902gCnFAfg1WvHm/

“We’ve always known that there was a need for a local element of test and trace, as a centralised system does not have local expertise and is not able to cut through the harder-to-reach communities,” Andy Street, the Conservative mayor of the West Midlands, told the Guardian this week.

The strain on a the centralised system has been clear. Sarah-Jane Marsh, director of testing at NHS test and trace tweeted last month: “The testing team work on this 18 hours a day, 7 days a week. We recognise the country is depending on us.” She is about to stand down after less than six months in the post.null

Laboratory bottlenecks

Website warnings that no tests were available exposed the testing crisis to the British public on an almost daily basis this summer, especially in September when schools went back.

Dido Harding, the system’s head, said last month the number of people wanting tests was three to four times the number available. National “lighthouse” laboratories in Milton Keynes, Cheshire, Glasgow and Cambridge, had hit capacity.

More than a quarter of people attending 500 local testing centres after being in contact with someone who had tested positive, were simply turned away because they did not have symptoms.

The scale of the task was shown when Harding told MPs around half of the available tests were being used by NHS patients, social care and NHS staff.

Such was the strain that tens of thousands of tests had to be sent for processing abroad.

And the need for testing will only increase.

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Johnson has promised daily testing capacity of 500,000 by the end of this month. On Tuesday it stood at 309,000 .

Already a long way off from the target, the system will come under greater pressure over the coming weeks. On Tuesday, the government finally said visitors to care homes could be tested regularly to try and end the isolation caused by their visits to loved ones being banned. There are 400,000 care home residents.

Slow results

New laboratories in Newcastle, Bracknell, Newport and Charnwood should open within weeks and they can’t come soon enough. As far back as May, Sage experts said the speed of results had a significant impact on the reproduction rate of the virus. Turnaround times should be 24 hours or less and it was “essential” this capability was reached by the autumn/winter flu season.

Johnson pledged in on 3 June to “get all [non-postal] tests turned around in 24 hours by the end of June”.

But for the last week of September, the percentage of test results returned within 24 hours in the community testing was no greater than a third. Nearly nine out of 10 Covid-19 tests taken under the system used by care homes in England were returned after 48 hours in September. Kathy Roberts, chair of the Care Providers Alliance, told MPs on Tuesday she doesn’t have confidence in the government’s test-and-trace strategy.

“The percentage of returns is still too low,” she said. “It has improved for people on discharge but not for the workforce.”

Last month Greg Clarke MP, chairman of the Commons science and technology committee, asked Harding if the failure of the testing system was “driving the increase in the pandemic”.

“I strongly refute that the system is failing,” she replied.

Tech problems

The data blunder that caused nearly 16,000 coronavirus cases to go unreported in England last month when they disappeared from an spreadsheet, was not an isolated IT problem. The government’s first attempt to build an app to track infections was abandoned in June after months in development.

A new approach is costing an estimated £36m in development and running costs in the first year. The app allows users to check into venues and receive alerts if they have been close to someone infected, as long as the infected person tells their app. But it has yet to find its feet.

For a while people tested in NHS and PHE settings could not input their results, meaning thousands were being missed. A function which is supposed to alert people when they have been in a place where there has been an outbreak has only been used only a handful of times, despite more than 16 million people downloading the app.

Some employers have also been asking workers to turn the app off. 

Contact tracing

Figures suggest contact tracers working through the national system have been less successful than local council officials. The percentage of people reached and asked to provide details of recent close contacts hit its lowest level since June at the end of September, with performance worsening steadily over the month. It means about 25% of contacts are not reached at all.

There have been embarrassing reports about contact tracers making no calls for days on end, some catching up on Netflix while being paid to do nothing.

By contrast local public health officials, some setting up their own call centres and redeploying environmental health officers and sexual health experts with local knowledge and properly trained in the job, reckon they are tracing close to 100% of contacts.

The difference mattered particularly in north-west England, where the virus took hold this summer and south Asian-heritage communities proved harder to reach. Ministers finally agreed to share real-time data with local authorities in August but only after several councils threatened to break ranks and set up their own locally-run system.

Local health officials complained the centralised system failed to join the dots on linked infections. For example, it might spot 40 cases in one postcode – but wouldn’t quickly grasp that the cluster was linked to a specific workplace, event, or pub.

“Local residents recognise and can relate to their local council, which is not always possible with a national system,” said Ian Hudspeth, chair of the Local Government Association’s community wellbeing board. “Council staff can go to people’s homes to make sure they are aware of what they need to do.”

People struggle to self-isolate

Sage estimates that at least 80% of a case’s contacts need to isolate for the system to work.

Last month, however, it found rates of full self-isolation were below 20% and particularly low among the youngest and the poorest people.

A study stretching from March to August, found only 18% of 1,939 people with symptoms stayed at home and people facing greater hardship were less adherent.

Ability to self-isolate was three times lower in those with incomes less than £20,000 or savings less than £100, according to a third study.

Additional reporting: Josh Halliday

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2020/oct/13/what-has-gone-wrong-with-englands-covid-test-and-trace-system?CMP=Share_iOSApp_Other

A reformer from a bygone era: What the Cummings saga tells us about British governance

Patrick Diamond writes that the Cummings coronavirus row has wider implications for the machinery of British government. These revolve around the status of political advisers and the future of Cummings’s state reform visions.

As the row over Dominic Cummings’s breach of lockdown rules escalates, threatening to engulf the entire Johnson Administration, it is worth reflecting on the implications of the dispute for the future of British governance more generally. The big questions that arise go beyond the details of Mr Cummings’s breach and the fundamental principles of propriety, truth, and integrity in high office. They concern how the machinery of government is likely to develop in the future.

The first implication is what this case tells us about the status of political advisers in British politics. The Code of Conduct for Special Advisers published by the Cabinet Office is clear that the purpose of political advisers is ‘to add a political dimension to the advice and assistance available to Ministers’. According to the official constitutional rationale, special advisers protect the neutrality of civil servants, undertaking tasks of a political nature which – if performed by officials – would undermine their ability to serve future governments of a different political complexion. Civil servants claim to welcome the presence of special advisers who provide knowledge and insight on issues of future policy, while offering steers on the political views of Ministers. The benign interpretation is that the British system of government cultivates a mutually beneficial partnership, a ‘governing marriage’ between Ministers, officials, and political appointees.

Certainly, there have been controversial special advisers before, many of whom were forced to resign because they breached the unwritten rule that political aides must never become the media story – the most pertinent recent examples being Theresa May’s notorious aides, Nick Timothy and Fiona Hill. Yet Timothy and Hill were, by and large, backroom operators who were fired ultimately because their boss was politically weakened in the aftermath of the 2017 general election debacle. Without question, it is an important moment in the development of the British political system that a special adviser such as Dominic Cummings is able to hold their own impromptu press conference in the garden of 10 Downing Street, taking questions from journalists while holding court in front of the world’s media.

Indeed, paragraph 14 of the Special Advisers Code states that, ‘Special advisers must not take public part in political controversy, through any form of statement whether in speeches or letters to the press, or in books, social media, articles or leaflets. They must observe discretion and express comment with moderation, avoiding personal attacks, and would not normally speak in public for their Minister or the Department’. The function of advisers is, ‘to represent the views of their Minister to the media’, rather than to justify their own actions or personal behaviour. In this extraordinary situation, Ministers are being sent onto the airwaves to defend the position of a political adviser. This is a remarkable moment.

The implications of Cummings’s media appearance will be far-reaching. We have reached a critical juncture, constitutionally a point of no return. There is likely to be growing pressure for special advisers to give testimony where they are involved in public controversies, notably to parliamentary select committees. Cummings’s actions will bolster the arguments of those who insist special advisers have a malign impact on the conduct of government, reducing civil servants to the status of ‘passive functionaries’ and politicising public administration. Cummings is a well-known critic of the British civil service. He regards the permanent bureaucracy as slow-moving, unimaginative, cumbersome, detached from seismic shifts in the world of technology and ideas. Cummings’s explicit goal is to ‘drain the swamp’ of the Whitehall bureaucracy, moving towards a ‘them and us’ model where civil servants no longer offer advice, but merely do what Ministers tell them. Civil servants become the implementors of policy rather than the initiators of policy; delivery agents, not ministerial advisers with the capacity to ‘speak truth to power’.

The second implication of the dispute is what the row tells us about the status of the institutional innovator and disrupter in the system of government. It may well be that Cummings’s mission to rewire the British state while radically recasting the Whitehall machinery is dead in the water. His ideas about how to reorganise the state machine might be deemed necessary for an age of disruption, but he will find formidable forces of conservatism in the government machine ranged against him, just at the moment his political capital is depleted badly. One difficulty is that Cummings is attempting to orchestrate change from the centre in 10 Downing Street. In the British system of government, it is departments that usually reign supreme. Departments are the centres of decision-making power, autonomous territories where policy is formulated, budgets are allocated, and implementation is co-ordinated. Even nominally powerful prime ministers with landslide parliamentary majorities such as Margaret Thatcher and Tony Blair discovered that departments have the capacity to thwart the will of the centre.

Another problem is that resistance to fundamental change in the government machine comes not only from civil servants, but Ministers themselves. Away from the highly politicised centre of power in Number 10, Ministers by and large work closely with their officials who they regard as problem-solvers, Machiavellian fixers, loyal courtiers, and expert bureaucrats who know about how to drive through change, navigating the byzantine rituals of Whitehall. The tension is even more acute in a Conservative government, where traditionalists favour the preservation of existing institutions, upholding the long-standing Northcote-Trevelyan principles of impartiality and merit-based appointment. At the beginning of 2020 when Cummings went public with his plan to recruit dozens of ‘weirdo’ data scientists into government supplanting ostensibly ineffectual civil servants, a Cabinet Minister told The Times:‘One of the big problems with [Cummings’s] pull the pin out of the grenade, drop it in the bunker, and see what happens approach is that it is so destabilising…we take several steps backwards before we’ve even started’.

In the world after the pandemic, it is very probable that the debate about state reform in Britain will take a quite different direction to that envisaged by the Cummings’s prospectus. The state is back as an economic actor, and as such, thirty years of antipathy to government as a force for good may be waning. It is public servants who have ensured that furlough wages and benefits are paid on time, while businesses are protected. Discussion will centre on how to restore the capacity of government to tackle major challenges from strategic risks such as future pandemics and climate change, to the long-term implications of the crisis, notably tackling public health inequalities while repurposing institutions. Unquestionably, the overly centralised nature of the British state will come under renewed scrutiny. In this climate, Cummings may well appear a reformer from a bygone era.

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About the Author

Patrick Diamond is Associate Professor of Public Policy at Queen Mary, University of London, and a former Government Special Adviser.

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