4 hours ago
7
Bliss it was in that dawn to be alive, but to be young was very heaven. Just not if you happened to be a schoolkid during the pandemic. Then you were being asked to make the biggest sacrifices to protect elderly people, even though you were the least at risk. Still, I suppose there was a lesson in there somewhere. Almost everyone who comes into contact – however indirectly – with Boris Johnson generally finds they have been done over at some point. So you might as well get your disappointment in early. Things can only improve after that.
The Covid inquiry has now moved on to its children and young people module and on Tuesday Johnson was back to give evidence. And, as ever, he looked as if he really did not give a shit. The hair was its trademark mess. His face unshaven. The smirk. Always the smirk. At times he looked almost bored. At others, irritated that people were asking him so many questions.
Why now? Hell, it was all a long time ago. How was he supposed to remember all the details? Yes, he could admit that it must have been difficult for kids. Terrible, even. He should know: he’s father to at least nine of them. But they should also just stop to think about how much more difficult it had been for him. Would no one stop to think about poor Boris? He had never really wanted to have to make these difficult decisions. It had been his bad luck to be prime minister during the pandemic. The Feel Good man for The Feel Bad years.
Clair Dobbin, counsel for the inquiry, began by referring to the earlier evidence of Gavin Williamson, the then education secretary, and various school trust CEOs and officials, that the Department for Education had made no preparations for school closures. Primarily because Johnson had been adamant they were going to stay open. Boris disagreed. There had been plenty of discussions. Maybe Gav had misremembered things.
Here we were faced with a difficult choice. Who to believe – Boris or Gav? Both with a long record of being – ahem – unreliable narrators. Choices, choices. And what if both of them were lying? The possibilities were dizzying. Dobbin attempted to pin Johnson down. Clearly the government had made no contingency plans for a pandemic. That had already been established. But had there been anything more than a three-page memo knocked up two days before the schools were closed?
For the first time, Johnson looked almost animated. Now look here. A three-page memo was not to be sniffed at. He had once thought about closing schools in February 2020. Albeit fleetingly. But he wanted it on record that it had been considered. Though obviously he hadn’t said anything to Gav, because … Because why would he?
It was like this. If Gav had been doing his job properly, then Gav would have telepathically understood that school closures were a possibility even if Boris had been saying in public that they would remain open. The fact was that Gav was a substandard education secretary. On this there was no disagreement. One day it might occur to Boris that he was to blame for appointing Gav to his cabinet. But today was not that day. It was enough to make you weep for the schoolkids. To have been landed with three mediocrities like Boris, Gav and Matt Hancock. The wrong men in the wrong place at the wrong time.
We moved on to the summer of 2020. Still, Johnson struggled to think of anything he could have done differently. It was all very well talking with hindsight but he had had to make decisions in real time. And it wasn’t his fault if the ones that he made were invariably the wrong ones. It was like tossing a coin and calling heads each time, only to find it landed on tails 35 times in a row.
Dobbin begged to differ. There was the assessment algorithm that lowered everyone’s exam grades. Boris shrugged. Algorithms were fiendishly complicated and no one had thought to examine the consequences. Easily done. As was funding an ‘eat out to help out’ scheme that increased the rate of infection. Money that could have gone to protecting vulnerable children. Boris had never been too bothered about them. Nor that his school re-opening plans might contravene social distancing rules.
After a 20-minute break, Johnson reappeared looking even more bored. Or was it bewilderment? He sighed loudly. Lost his place from time to time. Got confused over dates. Queried whether the evidence in front of him was correct. His answers became more vague. Dobbin concentrated on the second schools closure in January 2021. Boris nodded. He had been so desperate to keep them open that he had sent children back only to close the schools later the same day. And no, he hadn’t really thought to keep Gav in the loop, because who would?
“This was one of my really low moments,” Johnson confided. He was a man who still couldn’t quite understand why he had been so unlucky. Life had always come so easily to him. A narcissist who had always been able to control his destiny. Up until Covid.
Then he had confronted a reality he couldn’t bend to his will. That had been something that required diligence. Attention to detail. Not quick, glib soundbites. Everywhere you looked you could see self-destruction. Dobbin quoted a memo that talked of “mass and flagrant breaches of the rules”. None more so than in Downing St, where Boris encouraged a party vibe. That, though, was another time. A distant universe. Best forgotten.
We ended with the appointment of the education recovery tsar. And his resignation a few months later, when he realised Johnson wasn’t that committed to children’s wellbeing. It had all been tokenistic. Boris had thought it could be done on the cheap and had only let Kevan Collins compile his wishlist because he liked him and didn’t want to let him down. Until he did. Because Boris lets everyone down. He’s just not that serious about anything.
There was just time for a final note of triumph. Yes, although he didn’t rate Gav, even so Gav had been nothing short of heroic. But I’m not sure that’s the way the rest of us will remember Gav. Or Boris, for that matter.
-
A year in Westminster: John Crace, Marina Hyde and Pippa Crerar. On Tuesday 2 December, join Crace, Hyde and Crerar as they look back with special guests at another extraordinary year, live at the Barbican in London and livestreamed globally. Book tickets here.
-
The Bonfire of the Insanities by John Crace (Guardian Faber Publishing, £16.99). To support the Guardian, order your copy at guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply.
