They promised that HS2 would be extended all the way up through the east midlands and God’s Own County, and all the way to Geordie land. They also promised that a new Northern Power House cross-Pennine railway would link Manchester and Leeds (which is the largest city in Europe without a mass transit system) passing through Bradford (which is the largest city in Europe without a main line railway station). None of this will now happen. It has now been decided that doing none of the above will be far better value for money (a factor they know that Yorkshire folk appreciate more than any other) and will result in far better outcomes far more quickly. This begs the question of why we were promised something in the first place that would have given us far worse outcomes far more slowly.
Needless to say, this wasn’t how it was presented back in 2019 just prior to the election. Then it was described as a shiny new rail system for the north of England that would be as good or better than any other anywhere in the world. Or at least as good as what they’ve got down south. Now they’re hoping that the new northern Tory voters, whose heads were turned by the government’s original announcement, will be so determined to convince themselves that they haven’t been done over that they will slavishly back these watered down new ‘plans’ for rail links in the north. Or just pretend that none of this is actually happening.
These hopes are probably justified; most of the people who are most affected by all this tend to be younger, and dwell in the larger towns and cities of the north and midlands, and they tend to vote Labour anyway. The Tory ‘red wall’ voters are older and are spread around the ‘left behind’ smaller towns. They never bother to stray outside the limits of their Royston Vasey-esque post-industrial hell-holes in any case.
I suspect that this vitally important demographic grouping will continue to vote Tory due to their pig-headed determination never to admit that they’ve been lied to. About new rail links. Or ‘levelling-up’. Or Brexit. Or anything else.
The Man on the Fence 