Liam Halligan

No one is in any doubt about the problem facing Britain’s railways. Over the past decade, rail fares have risen twice as fast as salaries. Yet across the national network, overcrowding is at record levels, cancellations are spiralling and passenger dissatisfaction is at a ten-year high. Yet ministers are about to start pouring £4.5 billion a year, every year for a decade, into building a single new railway route: HS2. To put this into perspective, the amount annually maintaining and upgrading the rest of the rail network is £6 billion. It’s a trap that we can, even now, avoid. Much has changed since the scheme was launched in 2010. Official cost estimates have almost doubled — from £33 billion to £56 billion.

How did we get into this Brexit mess? Why is it proving so difficult to leave the EU? Was it Theresa May’s botched 2017 election, which vaporised her Commons majority? Or perhaps her general incompetence and lack of vision? How about the fierce determination of Europhile civil servants to save stupid Leave voters from themselves, cooking up a half-in-half-out withdrawal guaranteed to split the Tories? Maybe it was the cynical ambivalence of HM’s Opposition, with Labour simultaneously backing both Brexit and a second referendum, having always intended to cause chaos and spark a general election by voting down the UK’s exit, contradicting its own manifesto?

In 1995, the Labour party voted to amend Clause IV of its constitution, ditching its historic commitment to mass public ownership. A significant victory for Tony Blair, it sparked a modernisation process that saw New Labour win three successive elections. On Monday John McDonnell drew wild cheers from Labour delegates in Liverpool when he directly rebuked Blair, insisting Clause IV is 'as relevant today' as a century ago. The Shadow Chancellor certainly rolled back the years during his conference speech, unveiling the most radical Labour prospectus of modern times – an unashamedly socialist pitch, calling for aggressive re-nationalisation and sweeping trade union powers.

“We’re not doing a very good job of selling the private sector, are we?” So said an old friend of mine, among the Conservative party’s most senior advisors, as we discussed my upcoming Channel 4 Dispatches documentary on Carillion. Back in January, Jeremy Corbyn declared the implosion of the UK’s second-largest construction firm “a watershed moment” – and, in some ways, he was right. I don’t accept Carillion’s demise seven months ago means private companies should be kept away from providing public services, as the Labour leader has argued, or that Britain now needs wide-ranging nationalisation. The state already employs a fifth of the workforce, accounting for over two-fifths of GDP – which is quite enough.

Building a physical bridge between the UK and France is, apparently, ridiculous. I know that because, ever since Boris Johnson raised the prospect at the Anglo-French summit, my Twitter feed has been full of comments from various bien pensants ridiculing the idea. ‘If you like the Boris bridge idea, wait ‘til you hear about Liam’s plans for a zip wire from Washington DC to Washington, Tyne & Wear,’ quipped one commentator, referring not to me (on this occasion) but to Trade Secretary Liam Fox. ‘David Davis wants a pedalo from Boston, Massachusetts to Boston, Lincolnshire!’ parlayed another keyboard wag. As it happens, the construction of a bridge across the English Channel bridge is entirely feasible.

There is much outrage, among both Leave and Remain voters, at the size of the ‘divorce bill’ ministers have reportedly agreed to pay the EU. Figures of €60-65bn (£53-58bn) – more than one and a half times’ the UK’s annual defence budget – are being presented as fact. I share much of this outrage. The sheer range of numbers floated – not least the notorious €100bn figure reportedly demanded by Brussels – show that the cash-strapped EU is simply chancing its arm. The amount the UK will pay clearly has little to do with our provable liabilities. It is all about how much Brussels thinks it can extract. The strict legal position is that the UK owes zilch.

So Theresa May and Jean-Claude Juncker enjoyed a ‘broad and constructive exchange’ during their working dinner in Brussels. Last time the Prime Minister broke bread with the President of the European Commission — at Downing Street six months ago — Juncker dubbed her ‘deluded’ and complained about the food. Despite better mood music, this latest supper summit was hardly positive. European Union negotiators still refuse to discuss trade or end the divisive impasse over citizens’ rights until Britain agrees to pay a stonking ‘divorce bill’ — upwards of £40-£50 billion. All the while, the Article 50 clock is ticking. The prospect of a ‘no deal’ Brexit has lately loomed into view, and not a moment too soon.

Tomorrow in Florence, Theresa May needs to make the speech of her life. Britain has a strong hand to play in these EU talks and it’s time the Prime Minister showed it. May must assert once again that ‘no deal is better than a bad deal’, shoring up the UK’s bargaining position. She should also insist Britain won’t confirm any ‘divorce bill’ until these Article 50 talks end in March 2019, with the final amount dependent on the goodwill the EU has shown. Above all, taking her cue from Foreign Secretary Boris Johnson, the Prime Minister needs to present an inspiring vision of the UK outside the EU. The heyday of Florence was as a free-trading, outward-looking, independent city-state, long before it was absorbed into a unified Italy.

Theresa May is warning Tory rebels that if Parliament gets a meaningful vote on Brexit, the European Union will be 'incentivised' to offer the UK a 'bad deal'. She is right. But that doesn’t mean the Prime Minister should dismiss the prospect of the House of Lords inflicting a second defeat on the government, with peers today set to back an amendment requiring Parliament to endorse the UK’s final Brexit deal. May should, in contrast, turn what looks like an inconvenience to her political and diplomatic advantage.

‘Did you really deserve the Nobel prize?’ I ask Amartya Sen. ‘Why do you think you won?’ When you’re sitting opposite the world’s most respected living economist, at a time when the dismal science is under intense scrutiny, an opening question should be punchy. Thankfully, Sen, an 83-year-old Harvard professor, has a sense of humour. ‘You can’t ask me that,’ he says with a grin. ‘I have absolutely no idea why I won.’ He then composes himself. ‘Like any researcher, I’m happy if my work interests others,’ he says carefully. ‘But it would be a pretty bad way to conduct one’s life, thinking about how to win prizes, rather than being listened to.’ Sen has achieved both.

Irish eyes aren’t smiling - when it comes to Brexit. As one who hails from the Emerald Isle, I’ve taken plenty of 'schtick' from Irish diplomats, relatives and pundits after publicly voting to leave. For the Republic of Ireland, European Union membership carries deep political significance. Joining in 1973, along with the UK but on equal terms, was hugely symbolic. A country then less than 30 years old was finally able to represent itself on the world stage. It is this escape from British dominance, more than Brussels-funded motorways, that makes EU membership central to modern Ireland’s identity.