There were many unsung heroes during the Covid pandemic. The doctors, nurses and paramedics who went that extra mile to treat and comfort the sick and the dying. The care home staff who put themselves in harm’s way knowing they were admitting patients who hadn’t been tested for the coronavirus. The ordinary members of the public who went out of their way to follow the rules even though they knew they might never see relatives or loved ones again.
But during his evidence to the Covid inquiry on Tuesday morning, George Osborne went out of his way to praise the efforts of one man without whom the country might never have survived the pandemic. Someone whose name had mysteriously slipped under the public’s radar and yet was worthy of a nation’s gratitude. The former chancellor was here to right that wrong. To allow that someone to be a hero. If only just for one day. And that someone was a certain George Osborne.
Few people do conceit and self-regard quite as well as the former chancellor. So he was understandably rather hurt when Kate Blackwell KC, the counsel for the inquiry, dared to quote reports that had found the austerity economics of the coalition government contributed to the impact of the pandemic. Underinvestment in public services – and especially the NHS and social care – had led to a higher rate of mortality.
“I absolutely refute that,” said a brittle Osborne. How dare anyone suggest that he might have blood on his hands. George doesn’t do guilt. Or self-doubt. He’s never lost a moment’s sleep over the effect of his policies on the country. The only fault to which he will admit is excessive modesty. People should be thanking, not condemning him.
Put it this way, he snapped. The reality was that the country would have been far worse off during the pandemic were it not for austerity. OK, so a whole load of people might have died unnecessarily but that was just unfortunate. The poor always croak first in a pandemic and it was a coincidence that his economics had increased health inequality. But look on the bright side. It was totally down to him that Rishi Sunak had been able to fund the furlough and bailout schemes. Thanks to Him, the country could afford a contingency plan.
Weirdly, it didn’t seem to have occurred to Osborne that other countries that hadn’t made their people poorer or cut public services had also been able to afford bailouts. That rather got overlooked. A short-circuit of denial in George’s psyche. But hey! He had given everything a lot of thought and had come to the conclusion there wasn’t a single thing he could have done better. We had all been so, so lucky to have him.
Blackwell didn’t sound wholly convinced. Nor did the committee chair, Heather Hallett, who made a couple of well-timed interventions. After all, it couldn’t be just a coincidence that the Institute for Government, the Office for Budget Responsibility and just about everyone else contradicted Osborne’s version of events. But George was in a world of his own. Not prepared to accept even the slightest criticism. Or the slightest responsibility, for that matter. When things go wrong, it’s always someone else’s fault.
Osborne hastily went on to list more of his magnificent achievements. OK, so many hospitals had fallen down around him on his watch but he had definitely ringfenced the NHS budget. And his sugar tax and smoking strategies had worked a treat on the nation’s health. So he was basically a saint. Yes, it was unfortunate that he’d let social care collapse, but people had to die of something. No one lives for ever, so they might as well die of neglect. After all, it wasn’t his fault if people weren’t prepared to pay more in tax to live longer.
Nor was George willing to concede that he could have made better contingency plans for the pandemic. It was what it was. Even if he had given it a moment’s thought, no one would have taken seriously the idea of locking down a country for months on end. So even if he had thought of it, nobody would have believed him. Besides, it all worked out quite well. Even down to Tory donors making loads of dosh on PPE. Osborne smiled. He had done enough. He could look himself in the eye and exonerate himself of all blame. That was all from Planet George. A place where everything is for the best in the best of all possible worlds.
It had all been very different when Oliver Letwin, the Cabinet Office minister, had been cross-examined earlier in the morning. Then, Letwin is at heart a very decent bloke. Someone prone to self-criticism who could talk himself out of almost anything. A man for whom doubt is an article of faith. A man driven by the things he should have done. Who places demands on himself that he doesn’t expect of others. Osborne and David Cameron would call him wet and indecisive. The rest of us would like to see more people like him in public life.
Letwin couldn’t think of anything he didn’t wish he had done differently. He shouldn’t have just accepted the advice he was given that all the contingency plans for pandemic flu were in place. Because if he hadn’t, he might have given more thought to the possibility of other respiratory viruses. He should have asked better questions of the scientists. He should have given more thought to the implementation of contingency plans. He had lasting regrets about his time in office. He felt every death keenly. As if the victims had died at his hands. Contrast this approach with Osborne and Cameron. Tells you all you need to know about the three men really.
