In Tony Blair A Journey My Political Life, Prime Minister Blair has provided an interesting and generally fast-moving account of his years in office. It is unfortunate that the U.S. has so few progressive politicians with his philosophy and good sense.
On the state of the National Health Service (NHS), circa 1998, before many reforms begun during his tenure (p. 202):
We still had 1.3 million people on waiting lists to become inpatients, most waiting over six months. However, the waiting didn’t start with becoming an inpatient, it started with trying to get a doctor’s appointment. At the time there were no minimum standards in terms of getting to see a doctor. After the doctor, the waiting began to get on the consultant’s outpatient list. That could take months. Only after waiting on the outpatient list could you get on the list to become an inpatient. The six months waiting often wasn’t six months at all; it could be twelve or eighteen or even more.
The NHS was great, heroic even, in terms of dealing with emergencies and the chronically ill, but as a service, it was uneven, good when good, truly appalling when bad. It was certainly underfunded, but money was not the only problem; and more money therefore not the complete solution.
On the financial crisis (pp. 657-658):
First, “the market” did not fail. One part of one sector did. The way sub-prime debt was securitized, spliced and diced with no real appreciation of the underlying risk or value was wrong, irresponsible and immensely damaging. . . .
Second, government also failed. Regulations failed. Politicians failed. Monetary policy failed. Debt became way too cheap. But that wasn’t a conspiracy of banks; it was a consequence of the apparently benign confluence of loose money policy and low inflation. . . .
Third, the failure was one of understanding. We didn’t spot it [the coming crisis]. You can argue that we should have, but we didn’t. Furthermore — and this is vital for where we go now on regulation — it wasn’t that we were powerless to prevent it even if we had seen it coming; it wasn’t a failure of regulation in the sense that we lacked power to intervene. . . .
On dealing with opponents during twice weekly and later weekly Prime Minister’s Questions sessions in Parliament (p. 114):
I learned how to disarm an opponent as well as blast them. They get angry; you get mild. They go over the top; you become a soothing voice of reason. They insult you; you look at them not with resentment, but pity. Under attack, you have to look directly at them, study their faces, your eyes fixed on theirs rather than rolling with anxiety.
On use of alcohol (p. 613):
As you grow older, your relationship with alcohol needs to be carefully defined. When young, you do drink to excess at points, but you go days without it. As you get on in life, it easily becomes a daily or nightly demand that your body makes on you for relaxation purposes. It is a relief to pressure. . . .
I came to the conclusion . . . that escaping the pressure and relaxing was a vital part of keeping the job in proportion, a function rather like my holidays. But I was never sure. I believed I was in control of the alcohol. However, you have to be honest; it’s a drug, there’s no getting away from it. So use it with care, maybe; but never misunderstand its nature and be honest about its relationship to your life.