My Lords, we are near the end of another long day in an interminable process. After 1,336 days of negotiation we have an outcome that is at best emaciated, even if is an advance on the anorexia of no deal. The Government, and they alone,
will certainly own this poor deal. I fear that the noble Lord, Lord Frost, laboured mightily to produce a mouse.
The deal is testament above all to the Government’s narrow English nationalism and exceptionalism in a multinational world—and I do mean “English”. There is little resonance in Scotland and Wales, or among the progressives in Northern Ireland, who have been pushed outside the margins of discussion. It is true that the partial relief of a bare-bones deal gives some businesses and people a workable route ahead. The need for agreement arises, as my new colleague the noble Lord, Lord Austin, powerfully said, because few would be willing to leave the transition period with jobs less secure, environmental standards weakened or health and safety protections reduced.
The huge significance of the UK’s financial and related businesses is almost wholly neglected, despite their importance. The agreement that we will adopt tonight is 1,246 pages long. Its inadequate pages that sort of relate to financial arrangements number 31— 2.4% of the total—so 97.6% of the agreement is silent on 80% of our economy. Banks were consequently, as noble Lords can imagine, hammered in the markets in recent days. Equivalence assessments, passporting, data transfer and the practical alignment required for frictionless trade in financial services were all promised—promises now broken or with a limited shelf life.
My other example, given by many other noble Lords, is the treatment of higher education. I have asked Ministers, including the noble Lord, Lord True, about this for months and I have heard evasions for months. The decision not to include Erasmus, the failure to protect mutual recognition of professional qualifications and the consequences of failure to deal with data transfer are dreadful outcomes for the universities. They harm scholars, institutions and the international research community.
This country will never again make its living by beating metal or digging things out of the ground. Our only future lies in brainpower—innovation, science and cultural production—and brainpower does not recognise border posts. It depends on great international co-operation, yet we have cut ourselves off from its main structures to build a pallid, underfunded alternative that I suspect Alan Turing would have thought derisory. That may be a rationale for a Government whose leadership disparages expertise but, for the rest of the world, it is proof of madness. In the middle of a pandemic, when international research is our greatest hope, we have decided to dismantle its scaffolding.
I will vote for this, but it is Hobson’s choice. We are 25 hours from the onset of a calamity. We will try to make it work, but we will do so without the Prime Minister’s bombast and jingoism, and without the sycophantic praise of his colleagues.