Education

Ministers appear largely to have given up on taking scrutiny from the Labour party seriously, if today’s Education Questions was anything to go by. Both Nicky Morgan and Sam Gyimah had come armed with jokes and jibes about the Opposition’s predicament, which were designed to deflect from a rare co-ordinated Labour attack over the implementation – or lack of – of the Conservatives’ flagship manifesto promise to double free childcare for three and four-year-olds, and questions about the attainment gap. Jenny Chapman asked about that promise – and whether one in three families who were told they would get free childcare would in fact receive no additional care at all.

By now, George Osborne had hoped to have completed his austerity programme. Instead, he finds himself making what is, still, the most ambitious round of cuts of any finance minister in the developed world. The Chancellor is paying the price for the leisurely pace that he decided to take in the last parliament – due to his habit of buying time by deferring pain. The Chancellor still doesn’t seem to be in too much of a rush. In his spending review statement this week, he decided to spend some £83 billion more over the parliament than he said he would at the general election.  Foreign aid is not just protected, but

Did Kids Company receive preferential treatment and funds because it was the ‘favoured’ charity of the Prime Minister? This was the key question put to two senior civil servants at the Public Accounts select committee this afternoon — and naturally, their answers were evasive. Richard Heaton, formerly the permanent secretary at the Cabinet Office, said ‘I was aware it was prime minister’s favoured charity’ but there was no smoking gun that it received any ‘special treatment’ — Heaton said he ‘didn’t see anything unusual in the correspondence’ — although the definition of what counted as special treatment was pulled apart throughout. It remains to be seen how this preference was known.

In the grounds of Edinburgh’s Heriot-Watt University stands a one-tonne sculpture. Roughly hewn and about five feet high, it carries in its top corner an ill-carved sun. Beneath it are some words of Alex Salmond, half-sunk in the sandstone, as if they were the thoughts of a Scottish Ozymandias: ‘The rocks will melt with the sun before I allow tuition fees to be imposed on Scottish students.’ This clunky celebration of SNP -policy should raise a few doubts. Free higher education is not free for all in Scotland. Edinburgh can afford to pay the fees of only 124,000 students in Scottish universities. Their contemporaries might have the grades, but they