3 JANUARY 1969, Page 6

SPECTATOR'S NOTE BOOK

NIGEL LAWSON

I'm not surprised that Mr George Woodcock has told Mrs Barbara Castle that the Govern- ment's proposals for the reform of trade union law are 'unworkable.' It was, after all, Mr Woodcock who persuaded sufficient of his col- leagues on the Donovan Commission to sign a majority report saying that industrial relations in Britain were in a mess and that nothing should be done about it—that, in other words, all was for the best in the worst of all possible worlds. The Government's apparent decision to repudiate this complacent quietism and attempt a worthwhile measure of reform is most satis- factory—however much it may have been prompted by electoral motives, notably the popularity of taking a stand against the unions and the temptation (which Mr Wilson always finds irresistible) to steal the Tories' most attrac- tive and distinctive suit of clothes.

Most of what appear to be the specific pro- posals—the compulsory cooling off period for unofficial dispittes, the power to order a ballot before an official strike, and the setting up of industrial courts—seem sensible so far as they go, even though some of the others (such as the use of public money to bribe unions to merge) aren't. Most of them, too, echo the Conserva- tives' published policy point by point—although the Tories, who would go further and make all procedural agreements contractually binding, are surely right. The big question now is whether the Prime Minister really will go ahead with this ambitious scheme in the face of the inevitable opposition. My hunch is that, how- ever much Mr Jenkins may huff and puff, in the end Mr Wilson will back down, and the eventual Bill that emerges will be a very milk- and-water affair. In which case the Govern- ment will merely have succeeded in pointing out the attractiveness of the Tories' clothes without actually stealing them.

Continuity But even if I'm wrong and they do steal them, this would be a wholly good thing. A thorough- going reform of trade union law is urgently needed. It is a well-established principle in (at least) postwar British politics that each outgoing government paves the way for its successor—as, for example, the Tories, by setting up Neddy and getting the idea of planning established in the early 'sixties, paved the way for the Labour victory in 1964. The outgoing administration is responding to the new public mood—while the public, for its part, prefers (and elects) a government that actually believes in what it is doing. As President of the Board of Trade, Mr Wilson with his 'bonfire of controls' in 1950 prepared the ground for the Conservative victory in 1951. It's wholly appropriate that the same Mr Wilson, with an assault on trade union privileges in 1969, should similarly prepare the ground for the Tory vic- tory of 1970.

Voice of the turtle

'Another year!—another deadly blow!' wrote J. W. M. Thompson last week, taking as his verdict on 1968 Wordsworth's reaction to the news of Napoleon's defeat of the Prussian army at Jena. But perhaps it hasn't been as bad as all that. A year ago we asked half a dozen of

our contributors to write down their hopes and fears for the year ahead. I've been looking back at what they wrote. Almost to a man they ex- pected their fears to be fulfilled while disclaim- ing any confidence in their hopes. Yet in the event they needn't have been quite so gloomy. Roy Strong hoped for a year of 'stunning developments in the arts,' with an art market crash in impressionists. Simon Raven wanted 'a more Balzacian world,' and Randolph Churchill looked forward to a new Prime Minister. Three down at the turn. But Angus Maude hoped for 'a victory over Stansted,' Anthony Burgess for 'common sense about censorship' (half a mark for the demise of the Lord Chamberlain) and (in black mood) that 'the process of national dissolution will be so accelerated that at last citizens will feel genuine alarm and seek a change of government through loud, words and even public violence' (another half, if also rather black, mark), while Kenneth Allsop concluded 'I hope most of all that President Johnson heeds the voice of the turtle in the land and begins backtracking in Vietnam. What a hope.' So all square. Not bad.

QE2s for Christmas

The 'Queen Elizabeth 2' fiasco epitomises much of what we have to put up with today (and three cheers to Sir Basil Smallpeice for not putting up with it: my hope for 1969 is that more and more people will follow his example). Forget for the moment that, whatever happens, the ship, largely financed by the tax- payer, will never make money :.as white ele- phants go at least it's a great deal more attrac- tive as well as infinitely cheaper than Concorde. Forget even (though I don't really know why you should) the inevitable engine trouble, which (however inexcusable) can no doubt quickly be put right. There still remains' the intolerable incompetence and effrontery of the shipbuilders, who not merely delivered the QE2 in an un- finished and filthy condition, but obviously ex- pected Cunard to accept it in this shoddy state.

But this, of course, is typical—as my child- ren's Christmas present experience depressingly confirmed. The baby was given a wheeled 'horse' to ride 9n, made by Lines Bros, the country's leading toy manufacturer. It arrived in pieces, with cheaply produced instructions on how to assemble it. This wouldn't have mattered so much if half the nuts and bolts required hadn't been missing, making the job impossible. The two girls got 'space hoppers' (those admirable large rubber balls, with handles, which you sit astride and hop about on), made by Mettoy, another leading British toy company. These arrive uninflated, and have to be blown up, for which a valve is provided, At least, it was for one of the space hoppers. The other one's valve was missing. The boy had the only complicated present: a 'Dymo'' machine for die-stamping adhesive plastic tape (this, incidentally, seems to be the latest board- ing-school craze, and a bloody nuisance it is, too: I could do without the house being plas- tered with 'Che lives' and other improbable, slogans on every available space). It arrival, already assembled and works perfectly. I turned it upside down and read 'Made in Belgium.'