johnwvincent

Distraction

The Rwanda debate is an enormous distraction. I know there’s a hard core rump of Conservatives who will jump on the deterrent argument in a microsecond. It’s nonsense. For people who are willing to risk their lives to cross the busiest shipping lane in the world, the possibility of deportation isn’t going to make an ounce of difference.

No, this is mainly lawyers, talking lawyerly talk about what lawyers might do. Then getting wrapped around the axial about what their colleagues may or not think. Trying to fly the dark flag of nationalism higher than anyone on the green benches. All the time with their eyes on the headlines of tabloid newspapers[1]. No surprises, no innovation and chance of making a difference.

The bill in Parliament has little to do with the practical realities of the problems that the UK faces. There’s also the pernicious euro bashing opportunity that some of the more unscrupulous MPs are only too happy to exploit. There’s nothing more they like than to point fingers at others to avoid taking any responsibility for the current situation.

A week in Parliament gets wasted. This is not unfamiliar when governments have run their course. They wander around concerned about making a show. Troubled about opinion polls. Wondering how to hang on to their jobs. This is not a good season for practical problem solving.

Sitting in a local cafe drinking coffee isn’t the best way to judge the public mood at the moment but isn’t the worst either. So, I’ll paint a picture. An unrepresentative picture. Ironically, the picture comes from the old town hall in this town. A place that, no doubt was the seat of much local debate and discission in past decades. Now a coffee shop for a major brand. Where isn’t?

To my right a gentleman, who must have been at least in his 70s, sat in a comfortable chair head down engrossed in the Daily Mail. One of the few people with a daily newspaper in hand.

To my left young people sitting over their studies. Flicking between their workbooks and mobile phones. Consumed by their mate’s chat. Busy with something but who knows what.

In front, a group of female friends taking the time to meet. Exchanging stories of the week. Families, children, distant relatives, work, money, holidays, in fact all the topics of everyday life.

Where does the Rwanda debate sit with this random selection of coffee shop drinkers? In my estimation only with the man who may have caught the headlines. The only consolation prize for the Conservatives is that one man maybe likely to be a regular voter. Goes out in all weathers and marks his cross in a box.

Now, I hope I’m not maligning anyone. It’s mighty foolish to look at someone and say I know how they vote. Do that on the doorstep and be immediately surprised. Believe it or not I’ve known lifelong socialists who read The Sun newspaper for the sports stories. Or that’s what they’ve said.

The strategy of the Conservatives would seem to be to try and secure their core supporters having given up on the thought of winning a general election they still don’t what to lose too heavily.

[1] https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/blogs-the-papers-67989069

Look ahead

The predictions are not good. That said, this is not 1997 all over again. For one, social media didn’t exist when Tony Blair was swept to power. Prices are almost double what they were 27-years ago. Astonishingly, average house prices have gone from about £55,000 to over £250,000.

One analogy worth mentioning is the schism in the Conservative party. It’s what they often do when their coalition breaks down. The political distance between the moderate “one nation” types and the mad, swivel-eyed loons on the right (using the term coined by Lord Cameron) is too big to bridge. The right remains bitter at the part played by the current Prime Minister in ousting Boris Johnson.

Unity can be forged in common interest. In this case professional Conservative operators will do almost anything to stay in power. That’s much as it ever was. Money still fuels their campaigning machine. Even if donors must be thinking that burning piles of cash is a better investment.

1997 saw Katrina and the Waves winning the Eurovision Song Contest and the rise of ‘Mondeo Man’ signalled change. The Spice Girls[1] were at their peak and Buffy the Vampire Slayer was a must see on TV. It was a different time.

General Election preparations, rumours and stories are going to be the meat and potatoes of 2024. If the situation continues as it is there’s a chance that the Labour leader will get a large majority more because of the public’s boredom with the party in power.

There’s not much of a sign of a great new hip Britain emerging from an era of troubles and turmoil. Labour is trying to make pragmatism exciting. Almost as if the thought is that shining a bright light on greyness makes it electrifying. The people’s flag may be red, but it looks toned down and ruddier brown than in past lives.

Elections are an opportunity for yet unheard characters to find their voice. Already one or two people are starting to emerge as good on the stump.

MP Wes Streeting is starting to sound as if he knows what he wants to do and can express it in a coherent manner. Maybe it’s his local government experience that is coming through.

MP Daisy Cooper[2] has campaigning zeal that is hard to ignore. She looks like she is in a hurry to get things done. We surely need people with a more internationalist perspective.

Let’s expect election campaigning to be dirty, dishonest, and unpleasant. Today, so much of politics is a response to circumstances. It’s got to be more. People expect more.

When a political party, an awkward coalition of ideas, comes to the point it has no new ideas it needs to go. The Conservatives maybe heading for an electoral wipeout. What we need now is a set of ideas fit for this generation.

[1] @spicegirls

[2] https://www.libdems.org.uk/daisy-cooper

Global

Our everyday life is built on an assumption of freedom of navigation. It’s not always easy to relate to this reality but there it is. Goods move around the globe. I illustrated this uncomfortable fact the other day by saying let’s just sit down and look around. Observe the room.

Sitting in my living room. How many items came to us by ship? Over the ocean. All the electronic goods for sure. The furniture? Some yes and some no. The carpet, maybe not. The curtains, the material for sure. Books? Some yes and some no. Radiators? Surely, made in the UK. However, even the items that were manufactured in the UK needed materials that were imported. Strip away all the imported goods and materials and there’s not much left. The cupboard would be bare.

Now, look at what I’m wearing. My clothes all got here by container ship. I’m not wearing up market attire only everyday wear. Down to my underwear it’s imported. If I did an inventory of my wardrobe there’s not much that was made here.

Take the cup of tea in my hand. Well, the cup might be domestically manufactured but the tea doesn’t grow here. True the milk in my tea is well and truly English. No sugar. I never take sugar.

My point is clear. The days when everything in an Englishman’s home was manufactured in the England have long gone. That day was a long time ago. Almost a pre-industrial period. Our imperial past was such that imported goods have always been a huge part of everyday life.

Today’s automatic assumption of the freedom of navigation stems from post-war settlements. Agreements and institutions flourished in the post-war period. They created and reinforced conventions that assured freedoms of navigation by air and sea. Something we all too easily take for granted. Almost totally ignore.

Since Reagan and Thatcher, it would be hard to find an international management school that didn’t emphasis the benefits liberalised markets and global supply chains.

Post-war the world went from a period when freedom of navigation that was secured by air forces and gunboats to a period when it was secured by agreement and mutual interest. Obviously, the subject is not entire so simple since conflict has always been occurring somewhere on the globe.

National sovereignty remains at the core of the agreements that exist. There is no such thing as world government and international law can be brittle to say the least. Amongst those who benefit from it, there’s a strong interest in upholding and protecting freedom of navigation. Those acts that disrupt or challenge freedom of navigation will always meet a response.

So, this week’s developments to protect international shipping routes through the Red Sea should come as no surprise. It’s a different matter as to whether they are right or wrong. Or whether the military action that has been taken will work.

Our western tendency to expect a rational response to a rational action maybe flawed. However, the aggressor in this case has interests that may not make any sense to us.

On my radio

Out on the edge of the city of Coventry is the campus of Warwick University. At the heart of the campus is the Warwick Arts Centre. I recall “Rockpile[1]” when they played a UK university tour in 1978 or 9. One of their concerts was at the Warwick Arts Centre and I was there.

It was a fantastic night. No idea how I got there or got home to my rundown student accommodation in Coventry. My student days were at what was then called the Lanchester Polytechnic. A clumsy group of post-war modernist buildings strung up in the centre of a struggling city.

Music-wise I was living at the centre of the known universe. Between 1978 and 82 Coventry was alive. Venues were full. It was a youthful eruption of music. There was an air of decay in the crumbling manufacturing heart of the West Midlands. The brutalist and raw concrete architecture of the city was gathering moss, springing leaks, and not living up to the idealism that built it. Maybe the cost of living was not so hight, but something kicked-off an explosion of creativity. The energy of 40-years ago made its mark on popular culture.

Anyway, what I’m recalling here is a BBC Radio 1 DJ. She was that at the time. This week Annie Nightingale[2] has passed away. It seems fit to remember her with her finger on the pulse of what was happening. She was at the Rockpile Warwick Arts Centre concert, seeing and being seen. Much senior to the students in that hall. That didn’t matter one bit. Whispers went around in respect – that’s Annie Nightingale. We knew we were at a special event.

There’s another recollection I want to get off my chest. It involves cassette tape and an amber-red Sunbeam Imp[3]. Making compilations was all the rage with cassette tape. In this case it was Annie Nightingale’s compilation. Probably in the early 1980s.

Who knows which Halloween it was, but I had one recoding of one radio show she did that was my favourite car tape. Her instincts were prefect. It was one of those tapes that could be played repeatedly wherever I was going. My school days echo with the “Monster Mash.” A smile comes over my face when I hear Barnes & Barnes and Fish Heads[4]. Or “Werewolves of London” by Warren Zevon[5]. Don’t Fear the Reaper by Blue Öyster Cult. A great selection of fun packed horror-themed tunes.

Annie’s Halloween radio show was a masterpiece. She defined cult classics. Her earnest side aside she was mischievous. In a box. I know not where that tape may still exist. I’ve a mind to look for it. Thanks Annie.

[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rockpile

[2] https://www.theguardian.com/tv-and-radio/2024/jan/12/annie-nightingale-radio-1-dj-dies-aged-83

[3] https://classicmotorsports.com/articles/not-mini-sunbeam-imp/

[4] https://youtu.be/cn73Wtem0No

[5] https://youtu.be/c6M89iDabwM

Chat

Yesterday afternoon, at the till in a major supermarket and the man in front of me was getting stressed. I was standing in line waiting without a care in the world. In front of the man, in front of me, the till assistant, or checkout operator, dependent on how you see it, and a customer were locked in day-to-day conversation. Just being sociable. From what I could hear that customer may have once worked in that supermarket at some time.

The man in front of me was getting grumpy. He turned back and muttered his disdain for the shop’s staff because they were holding him up. Their everyday conversation was an afront to him. They were wasting his valuable time. Not overly aggressive but he had an agitation that often comes from a degree of unwelcome stress. He was in a hurry or at least heavily felt the pressure of time.

When I got to the till the assistant asked: What did he say? I quickly paraphrased what was said. Conscious that I had no desire to inflame the situation that had now passed by. Reactions can be unpredictable. We live in an era of polarisation.

The gentleman working at the till was into small talk. He clearly loved to chat to customers. Then for me he put that in context. He said that when it gets to about ten, in the evening, people are more than happy to talk as they pack their shopping. With some people it’s the only conversation they have in a day. He was proud that staff were encouraged to be warm and friendly.

Now, there’s a contrast. The life of Mr busy, busy, busy verses the life of the forgotten. That division is at the heart of one of society’s biggest troubles. A tribe that is over-employed, anxious, and living on the edge and a tribe that is lost, lonely and forgotten.

One prone to exasperation and being impatient. The other desperate for social contact and empathy. How on earth did we construct a society that tries to work on that level? Not only that but supermarket managers are desperately trying to automate everything[1]. Already there’s three types of automation in that you can do your own till check in a couple of different ways.

The milk of human kindness shouldn’t be sneered at. Wow. You see how quickly I reverted to Shakespeare without even knowing it. That simple phrase has its origins in the play Macbeth. The play that I was forced to read at school. The play that did nothing much to lift my appallingly bad grades at English. To Lady Macbeth, the “milk of human kindness” was objectionable. To her real men had no need of it. We all know where that led. Don’t go there.

So, next time you are standing in a short que, stomping your feet, imagining the clock spinning around, give it a rest. If you find yourself thinking this is too much, I can’t deal with it anymore, do a double take. Relax. Breath slowly. Dig deep and discover some small talk. It might be more meaningful than you first think.

On another subject. I agree with Graham Nash[2]. A day in the life[3] is a truly great song. It’s life as a musical tapestry. The song wanders around the mind using hardly any words but painting a picture all the way up to the sky. I’ll not heaping yet more praise on The Beatles, they’ve enough for several centuries. That said, May 1967 was a magical moment. Even if I did only know it with toy cars and in short trousers. It’s not the daily news but I’ll bet there’s probably now more holes in Britain’s roads than ever.

[1] https://www.bbc.com/worklife/article/20170619-how-long-will-it-take-for-your-job-to-be-automated

[2] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Graham_Nash

[3] https://genius.com/The-beatles-a-day-in-the-life-lyrics

Beware

There is some corrupt b****** out there in INTERNET land. They would dip their hand in your pockets and take whatever they can in a second. It’s downright evil. The wild-west element of the INTERNET has never gone away. It’s a global problem.

I’ve never had a Netflix account. Maybe that’s unusual. It would be nice to have one but, personally I’m not convinced that the costs are warranted. Not today. I’m slow to step on the streaming bandwagon. I still have a pile of DVDs and CDs. Yes, I’m a primitive. In some things an early adopter but when it comes to services that require regular payments, I’m cautious.

As regular as clockwork junk e-mails turn-up saying that I need to update my payment details, or my Netflix account will be suspended. Followed by an exclamation mark. On closer inspection they are amateurish cons. In fact, it’s good that the junk mail filter can see through them as they come in.

This kind of fishing is criminal. Somewhere there’s a group on con artists thinking up ever more devious ways of taking money from people. The amateurish ones may not be a threat to me, but I wonder how many people they do catch. Even one in a hundred thousand would net a nice return for virtually zero outlay.

It may be the case that lots of people think that they are not so stupid as to fall for these blatant entrapments. What’s concerning is that cybercrime is becoming ever more inventive. We’ve yet to see what developments in intelligent algorithms will do to this landscape.

The best advice around is to never ever, I mean never ever, give personal payment details in response to an unwanted request. Most honest organisations make a point of saying that they will never request bank details in unsolicited e-mails. Unjustified urgency and a threatening tone are another sign that something is wrong.

Electronic means, namely the digital economy is not as robust as the traditional over the counter transaction. Organisations are aware of this fact. Warnings saying that they will not take responsibility if money is transferred to an incorrect bank account are commonplace.

The digital economy has been a boom for the major banks. High Streets up and down the country now have grand imposing buildings that are coffee shops, restaurants and, in the case of my town a kitchen showroom. Banks have retreated from face-to-face relationships. The responsibility for being aware of the potential for cybercrime has been firmly placed on the shoulders of the individual.

Talking to people remains important. Certainly, if a request for payment seems strange or unexpected there’s no substitute for picking up the phone, however tedious that process can be. Notes, and paper records still matter or, at least, they still matter to me.

NOTE: Useful information can be found here http://www.actionfraud.police.uk/

Call to account

Accountability. There’s a nice word. It’s kind of biblical. It’s one of those so-called golden rules. An account is about balance and fairness. “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you”. A simple and straightforward notion.

I’d say that means that we expect ourselves to account for errors and misdeeds, and we are often our own greatest critics. In balance then we expect others to account for their errors and misdeeds.

Our society doesn’t have a police officer standing on every doorstep. That would be intolerable. What we call civilised behaviour requires each of us to be accountable for our action, to ourselves as much as to everyone else.

Listening to the story of the Post Office (PO), and its persecution of postmasters, it’s apparent that the innocent individuals first questioned themselves before they questioned the failing computer system that they had been forced to use.

Go back 20-years and Computer Weekly[1] was pointing out that the large-scale transition from a paper-based system to a computer system was going badly wrong. An accountable institution would have urgently investigated and fixed any problems, which are not unexpected in the introduction of a new system. In this case, cover-up and denial seems to have been the strategy. Then blaming the innocent and going to extreme measure to punish postmasters.

The PO did not do unto others as it would have them do unto it. The corporate blindness to injustice and its self-protection mechanisms were the worst of what an institution can be. Now, the appalling injustice is evident to everyone and it’s difficult to understand where accountability was in the past. By cruel imposition, accountability was distorted by the powerful.

I hate to say it but there’s a general lesson in what has happened at the PO. In the last 10-years there are numerous significant national failures where the strategy of blame and going to extreme avoidance measure has prevailed. The billions (£) wasted on personal protective equipment (PPE)[2] during the pandemic is only one case. The billions (£) wasted by Truss in a few days. Don’t start me on the billions (£) wasted on Brexit.

In our democracy the notion is that accountability comes through free and open elections. The argument goes: if you don’t like what they have done you can kick them out. If there is such a thing as natural justice, we might expect that to happen. I remain an idealist in a year of elections.

I sat down in Morrisons[3] yesterday morning. There was a copy of a national tabloid newspaper lying around. I picked it up to read it with my tea. The line it took, on the one hand, is to highlight the injustice of the PO scandal. On the other hand, it did its best to exonerate the current government and cast shadows over the opposition. Not much honest accountability. Conservatives, who have been in power for more that a decade, are swiftly trying to rebrand.

Golden rules are great but political expediency is much in play as we run up to a General Election. I hope that the public will see through rebrand underway. Let’s hope.

[1] https://www.computerweekly.com/feature/Post-Office-Horizon-scandal-explained-everything-you-need-to-know

[2] https://www.transparency.org.uk/track-and-trace-uk-PPE-procurement-corruption-risk-VIP-lane

[3] https://groceries.morrisons.com/

Snow

In Hertford, Hereford, and Hampshire, hurricanes hardly ever happen. Good job too, I’d say. The phrase is from a song called: “The Rain in Spain,” in the musical My Fair Lady. That was a Christmas treat. It’s antiquated but still a wonderful classic film[1]. Yes, some of the miming is rather questionable but the story is told in a leisurely and wonderfully warm way. It’s just enjoyable entertainment.

It’s not pitching. What’s not pitching? The snow. The snow is not pitching, I said. This morning when we had flurries of half-hearted snow. Snow not sleet. The sort of light snow that I could be confident in saying was going nowhere. It danced around in the air more for performance than doing anything that was going to mess-up my day. Fluffy and gentle and certainly no hurricanes.

Sue looked at me. She’s done this before. You see London folk are hardly acquainted with the term I used to describe what the wispy snow was doing. Strangely, I thought Chat GPT would draw the same blank on the use of this verb of mine, namely to pitch. It didn’t. Whereas Microsoft’s AI hadn’t a clue when I asked did about “Hertford, Hereford, and Hampshire”, for my simple West Country verb it got it right away. Although, the AI’s explanation was to say that the word was from the city of Bristol. How could it have known any better?

It’s an alternative word for settle. The snow fell but it didn’t settle. I’d say the snow fell but it didn’t pitch. I’d say that instinctively. So, ingrained I’d wonder why anyone would use a different word. It means that the snow that was falling disappears as soon as it hit the ground. In other words, it’s too warm or the snow not plentiful enough for any accumulation or hazard for that matter.

Fictional professor Henry Higgins would no doubt have looked at me with disdain. Londoners have this way of thinking that theirs is the only valid English language spoken. What will the proliferation of digital bots do to innocent regional quirks? Will Chat GPT become a snobbish tyrant like Higgins? Or will it become like a journalist writing for The Sun newspaper? Writing as if my reading age was about 10 years old? I have no answer to that one.

It would be a shame if inevitable electronification stuffed us all into the same box. Ironed out the ripples and variations in langauage. Gave the pedants a leg-up and arrogantly kicked the rest of us. Will we need a Campaign for Real Speaking?

On another point. Conversations can go off at abstract tangents. One thing I’ve noticed about AI is that when it’s fumbling for an answer it will throw-up anything with a vague link to the subject of interest. It’s saying – I’m still not sure what you’re asking so I’ll take a blunderbuss approach.

Today, I learnt something I already knew. I knew it because last year I did a lecture at the University of Hertfordshire. However, the information had disappeared into the far corners of my brain. The University of Hertfordshire has an American Football Club called the Hertfordshire Hurricanes. I wonder if some cocky smart alec[2] named the team because of the musical. I’ll bet – not.

POST: An answer could be that the site of the University is the site of a former British aircraft factory. The de Havilland Aircraft Company Limited. However, the Hawker Hurricane was not produced on that site. de Havilland did produce propellers for the Hurricane.

[1] https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0058385/

[2] https://grammarist.com/usage/smart-alec-and-smart-aleck/

Time

My watch is playing up. It tends to freeze its screen. Any amount of pressing of buttons doesn’t have the desired effect. This is the third Garmin watch that has graced my arm. This one is full of smart features. Not, that I need a fraction of what it can do. Up until now it’s been faithful. So, I’m annoyed that it’s behaving badly.

These trails and tribulations led me to going back to a conventional watch. Dial and hands. A slightly more up-market Swiss watch that has been worn more on special occasions than the everyday Garmin. I like it. Only it’s metal, chunky and weighty. More of a real proper watch than the plastics of the Garmin. More residual value too.

This moment of reflection is about the demise of the traditional wristwatch. They haven’t gone out of fashion entirely. In fact, there’s more fashion watches displayed in shop windows than ever. But I wonder who buys them? I’m reliably led to believe that young people use their phone to tell the time. That simple but essential act. Since the mobile phone is almost inseparable from the human hand it’s pushed other devices into the wilderness. It does it all.

Maybe a couple of decades ago, I’d feel awkward if I’d forgotten to put my watch on in the morning. It would sit there expectantly. Its role was essential. Although timepieces were ubiquitous, around the house, car, and work, the only one that was personal was my own watch.

There wasn’t the necessity for a device to be “smart” either. A watch was a watch. A camera was a camera. A phone was a phone. A Walkman was a Walkman. The list goes on. Making this point makes me feel like a primitive relic from a long-forgotten past.

In the land that time forgot. No, not me. Time has always been important. If it’s not planning or scheduling, I’ve a fair amount of project management activity in my past. Deadlines, milestones, and critical paths coloured up on Gantt Charts[1]. Yes, time and tide wait for no man. A nice little idiom.

Time can be personal. At one time my mother had the kitchen wall clock set about 5-minutre in advance. The underlying idea being that if you were a moment or two late in starting or finishing a job then you were not late in reality. Even better when the deception instilled a bit of urgency into a task when in-fact there was time enough.

Going back further, I remember a childhood conversation with an ancient distant relative who lived in the shadow of a towering railway viaduct. Time then, in the small hamlet where he lived, was linked to the time of the steam trains on the Somerset and Dorset line. No need for clocks. Farm routines, like bringing the cows in for milking were arranged according to passing trains.

I expect I’ll get my Garmin watch, with its accurate navigation functions, up and running again. It may need a new battery. I do wonder if I need the precision or the range of its capabilities. Like the technology packed in my phone, its use is more habit than necessity, in a lot of cases. We are beguiled by “can do” technology.

[1] The first Gantt chart was devised in mid 1890s by Karol Adamiecki, an engineer who ran a steelworks in southern Poland.

Enough

I’m not a supporter of the Labour party leader but his call for change is surely one that is echoing through every street of the land. By the way, good choice for a location to make a national New Year speech[1]. And all the Conservatives could do in response is make populists claim that he’s a populist whilst doing nothing other than being populist. Populism eating itself. Populists accusing others of being populists. Admitting the flaws in what they do whilst trying to paint those flaws on others.

No, Prime Minister Sunak procrastination is not the way forward. He’s without core principles, hanging on to exploit whatever comes along. There’s zero authenticity only maximum opportunism.

Liberal Democrat party calls for a General Election are spot on. The reality is that we are destined to have a year’s worth of election campaigning ahead if the election date if not called for the spring.

Liberal Democrats “Tory Removal Service” may signal a love for publicity gimmicks but getting national attention when the media landscape is polarised is not a simple business.

Leader Ed Davey is showing that there is an alternative to the worn-out outdated political parties[2]. It’s a challenge to the British electorate. Do you want the stale ding-dong of national political debate to go on disappointing forever? We can do better. We can mend a political system that has been fundamentally broken for an age.

Rather than feathering the beds of supporters we need a government commitment to equality. Rather than short-termism we need a government that takes the long view. Rather than shunning our neighbours we need a government that embraces internationalism.

Yesterday’s resignation of Conservative MP Chris Skidmore[3] appears much like a rat leaving a sinking ship but it’s more important than that classic media interpretation of events.

Skidmore addressed the issue of short-termism head on. He’s resigning citing the on-going legislation to boost North Sea oil and gas drilling. Next week, the UK Parliament returns to consider an Offshore Petroleum Licensing Bill. This Conservative Government’s move is a kick in the teeth to the country’s green credentials. He states, I can no longer stand by. The climate crisis that we face is too important to politicise or to ignore.

Promoting the production of new oil and gas sources is a backward move. Yes, we need energy security but that should be a driver to invest in electrification and reducing energy waste. There’s a list of policy moves that could return the UK to a position of leadership on climate change.

2024 is likely to see the current Conservative administration flaking like peeling paint as it slowly decays. We do not need opportunistic papering over the cracks. It would be so much better for the whole country if they stood aside – soon.

[1] https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-politics-67880324

[2] https://www.libdems.org.uk/news/article/new-year-2024

[3] https://news.sky.com/story/tory-mp-chris-skidmore-to-stand-down-over-bill-that-promotes-production-of-new-oil-and-gas-13042746