The Naked Week: Ep 3. Benefits, Borders, and a game of Truss or Towers.

That's like calling Vladimir Putin and expecting him not to stifle a giggle every time he agrees to a ceasefire. Well, because we like to help, the Naked Week did get in touch with the Electoral Commission and asked if we could split, for example, the Isle of Wight into one million smaller constituencies of 38 square centimetres. Did we really do that? They didn't reply. OK. Come on, guys, do you want the young people back into work or not? We're trying to think outside the ballot box here. Give the young people a ticket to ride.

Well. Wait for that to dissipate, I think.

Well, there is one other option. Who did we spot was advertising for a new parliamentary assistant this very week? The architect of the benefit cuts herself. Work and Pension Secretary, Ms Liz Kendall MP.

So, to be completely fair to Liz, she's rightly identified that one million young people need jobs and now she's immediately gone out and created one. Yes. But if she keeps up this pace of one new job a day, it will only take another 2739 years and we will have solved youth unemployment.

So, Rubina, what can we do to help these one million economically inactive young people get this particular job as Liz Kendall's parliamentary assistant?

Well, Andy, we're going to put together the best CV ever and then we're going to apply for the job live on stage. And to help us do that, professional career coach Alice Stapleton, everybody. Thank you so much for joining us.

You're very welcome.

So just to get the straight audience, Alice is a professional career coach with years of experience helping people change career or find work. And she is going to help us put together the most impressive CV possible, inspired by the current crop of Labour MPs.

So, Alice, I'm sure I could pass for under 25 and that is hardly the worst age-related lie a BBC presenter has told, OK?

Right, I am going to play the role of applicant and let's start off with my work history.

So it'd be good to have some real world experience on there. Should I, for example, say on my CV that I've worked at the Bank of England for, to pluck a random figure, six years?

Well, Andy, if you want to be a Labour MP, there's no need to be truthful on your CV. You can just lie about how long you've worked at the Bank of England and still take one of the top four offices of state.

Great news. OK, in that case, can we please put down that I worked at the Bank of England for 73 years?

Yeah, adding that now.

OK, what about my hobbies and interests?

Go on.

Well, let's say for the sake of argument that one of my hobbies is punching my constituents in the street. Let's put that under sports.

Got the CV up on the screen here. Any others?

I quite like lying about the fact that my mobile phone has been stolen, prompting a conviction for fraud. I'll put that under key skills.

Perfect. Now, an important part of any resume is listing your personal attributes. You want to be an MP. Do you have any?

Not really.

Perfect. Next question. Do you like jokes?

Have you heard this show?

Well, I'll see what you mean.

Well, it can be good to show potential future employers that you've got a sense of humour.

OK, well, in that case, yes, I love making jokes, especially in WhatsApp groups. I love making jokes in parliamentary WhatsApp groups about killing members of the public.

Excellent. Let's put that under people skills.

It's also essential to include any other roles that you previously held or you're currently holding.

OK, great. Well, let's say I'm a landlord, but I'm not a good landlord. I'm a slum landlord.

How would being a slum landlord help me get a job as a Labour MP?

Well, we can spin this. I think you can say you have a passion for rewilding.

Yes. That's it. I was deliberately breeding black mould and making my tenants live among ant infestations to help the environment. Suck on that, Attenborough.

Nearly there. So, final question. Interests. What sort of music do you like?

I'm a big fan of Sabrina Carpenter.

And just your full name? It's Rachel, Michael, Louise, Jazz, Andrew, Reeves, Amesbury, Haig, Atwell, Gwynn.

And I should say to listeners at home, if you go to the Radio 4 Instagram feed, no idea why it's got one, it's mostly just Justin Webb thirst traps. You can see us genuinely sending this to Liz Kendall.

And what's more, we have written the entire thing in Comic Sans. Shall we send it? Yes, go for it. Lovely. Off it goes. Quicker than Nicola Sturgeon getting Scott Free tattooed on her knuckles.

Now, I want everyone in the room to picture Briony Jackson, aged 15. She was my then girlfriend at school, and she broke my heart by selfishly having parents who moved to Dorset halfway through term.

The question is, though, pertaining to this week's news, what if I use that story now, 20 years later, to cynically sell a book?

And we're asking that question because former Tory MP Mark Field this week sold the serialisation of his kiss and tell vis-a-vis Liz Truss, I know, to the Mail on Sunday. A little cry of despair from the audience. We're doing it, I'm afraid. There's no stopping it happening.

Now, the memoir does include a lot of, let's say, unnecessarily intimate details about Liz. Although, most disconcertingly of all, it suggests she once actually did do something quite sensible. She dumped Mark Field.

Now, coincidentally, this week also saw the opening of a new theme park attraction at Alton Towers, and that got us thinking it was time for a little game.

So, studio audience, the rules are very simple. You have to guess whether what I'm reading is a review for The Toxicator, the new ride at Alton Towers, or is it The Toxic Hater, Mark Field, describing our esteemed former Prime Minister?

Are you ready? Alright, you can play along at home too. Let's play Truss or Towers. Here we go.

First one, exhilarating experience. Is that Truss or Towers? No, according to Mark Field, it's Liz Truss.

Next one, overhyped expectations. That is Alton Towers, I'm afraid.

Must be accompanied by an adult. That is Alton Towers.

Intoxicating and disconcerting. That is Liz Truss, well done.

Exhausting. That's Liz Truss, according to Mark Field.

You'll experience heart-pounding centrifugal forces and extreme spin patterns. That is Liz Truss. It's Alton Towers.

Ride duration was too short. Of course that was Alton Towers.

I felt sick halfway through and my hat blew off. Alton Towers, of course it was.

Right, ten points for everyone, none for Mark Field. Although, maybe a bonus one for Quite Remarkably and for the first time ever, making us feel a bit sorry for Liz Truss.

So, in a turbulent week in which ceasefires seemingly cease to be, now seems like a good moment to step away from the noise and into the Naked Week's very own garden of current affairs contemplation.

It's the news in haikus.

Thames water gets three billion loan to stay afloat, like turds in a lake.

The news in haikus.

You're listening to the Naked Week, in the week when the Covid inquiry was accused of being naive and hostile by former health secretary Matt Hancock.

And speaking of grubby little bodies, it's now time for us to don the rubber glove of journalism and have another probe up the corridors of Westminster regulators to see if anything feels tender.

I'm joined once again by the Naked Week's chief investigative proctologist and tortoise media political editor, Kat Nealon, everybody.

Kat, last week we looked at the impressively obscure Office of the Registrar of Consultant Lobbyists.

Who is gripping the table of scrutiny this time?

That'll be the PRCA.

That's the Public Relations and Communications Association.

These guys sound even wilder than last week's lot. Do they also regulate lobbying?

Kind of. They're actually the lobbying industry's own trade body, with a code of conduct that its members must abide by.

Okay, I can appreciate a code of conduct.

I actually have to sign one before each episode of this show, promising not to call Richard Maidley a laminated barrel of despair. Well, I've not signed one, so I say that's exactly what he is. And that's how the law works.

Anyway, among other things, their code states... It is inappropriate for a person to be both a legislator and a public affairs practitioner. Members must not employ any Member of Parliament or Member of the House of Lords to conduct public affairs in any capacity. That sounds pretty clear-cut. Lobbyists can't employ parliamentarians for public affairs. Correct.

Okay, so really I have just one question. Which is?

No, it's nothing to do with witches, Kat. I was going to ask, seeing as the industry's own membership organisation expressly forbids it, presumably these lobbying companies can't and don't employ any MPs.

That's right.

Great, so credit where credit's due. They do employ members of the House of Lords.

Oh, but aren't Lords also... Parliamentarians? Yes. Legislators? Also, yes.

Okay, so can we just play that bit of the code of conduct again, please?

Members must not employ any Member of the House of Lords to conduct public affairs in any capacity.

And a House of Lords spokesperson told The Naked Week that, quote, members are banned from providing paid parliamentary advice or services.

Okay, I'm sensing a but despite this.

But despite this? The Naked Week has uncovered six PR and lobbying firms who are signed up to that code of conduct, currently employing members of the House of Lords. So just flat out ignoring their own cond of coduct?

Are you trying to tell me they're ignoring their cond of conduct? That's very serious. That'll make sense. Edit round that, John.

So just ignoring their own code of conduct then?

You say ignoring, some might say interpreting.

And not only that, some of these peers are quite high profile.

Remember Tom Watson? Of course, he was Deputy Labour Leader under Jeremy Corbyn.

And in 2022, Keir Starmer gave him a life peerage for services to not being Jeremy Corbyn.

Of course he did.

And now Lord Watson is on the advisory council of a, quote, strategy and communications agency called Lodestone. Not to be confused with Treadstone, the sinister CIA black ops assassin programme in the Jason Bourne films.

Okay, so Treadstone, sorry, Lodestone is employing Lord Watson, a Labour peer, in direct breach of their own industry's code of conduct. Judge for yourself, Andy.

His role at Lodestone includes providing, quote, strategic counsel rather than public affairs. And strategic counsel sounds spectacularly vague. Basically, he's a paid advisor. But I should stress, there is no suggestion that any rules have been broken.

Incidentally, Lodestone's client companies include Naked Week favourites, Palantir, where Lord Watson is also a paid advisor. Ooh, busy boy.

Yes, in fact, he's so busy that neither he nor Lodestone responded to the Naked Week's requests for comment. But the PRCA told us. We acknowledge concerns regarding the employment of peers, and this is an area currently under review as part of our ongoing consultation on the public affairs code. The second phase of this consultation is set to be launched on the 24th of March.

So that is progress. The lobbying industry's trade body recognises the flaws in its system. And clearly, the code will soon be tightened so that all companies will be held to the same rigorous standards.

Well, no. There will still be one extremely easy way to get around it.

Companies could just not sign up.

Beg your pardon?

It's completely voluntary. Public relations and communications firms can operate without signing up to the Public Relations and Communications Association. It makes absolutely no difference.

Incredible.

So if these lobbying companies are operating without even the pretense of a code of conduct, what happens when there really is no handbrake?

Well, let's take a quick look at one particular company, Northpointe Strategy.

Its chairman is a man called James Wharton, who, despite having a staggeringly low-profile career as an MP, still got a peerage from Boris Johnson. So this guy Wharton is now able to shape legislation. While also running a firm whose job is to influence policies and laws. To be clear, Northpointe describes Lord Wharton's role as... Overseeing the running of Northpointe Strategy and providing strategic counsel to clients. More strategic counsel stuff. Exactly.

And that same company, Northpointe, also employs Tory peer and current shadow minister Martin Callinan and, perhaps more surprisingly, Carwyn Jones. So that's Carwyn Jones as in the former Labour First Minister of Wales. That Carwyn Jones. The very same. And just to add, Carwyn Jones told The Naked Week... I always follow the House of Lords code of conduct and it's part of my contract with Northpointe.

So, essentially, what all of this boils down to is, you can be a Lord, or a shadow minister and a Lord, or even a former First Minister of an entire nation and a Lord, and still stroll around the parliamentary estate working for anyone who might want to have laws changed, while the industry's trade body sits there and does nothing of any use.

And just like that, we're back to Richard Madeley. Carmelan, everybody! You're listening to The Naked Week. Coming up, it sounds like Michael Gove has finally settled on a title for his memoirs... Politically Motivated Bilge. And it seems the government aren't the only ones having trouble with pips this week. See also Amol Rajan. Our editors today were Dan McAdam and Joshua Tindall, studio director... Oh, f***.

This week saw the release of Disney's new live-action adaptation of Snow White. The film has been heavily criticised for, well, pretty much everything. But there has been extra-large rage reserved for the CGI hybrid nightmare that is the seven, uh, not-dwarfs. Critics can't agree on what they are, and frankly it's hard to say. Part human, part computer, with blank, dead eyes. Imagine seven Rachel Reeveses without any of the charm or charisma.

But there are plenty more reboots coming down the line. I'm joined by The Naked Week's terrible idea for a remake correspondent, Rubina Pabani. Rubina, what's on Disney's slate? July 2025, I'm really looking forward to this one. Alice's adventures through the changes to disability benefits. After falling down a hole and shattering her pelvis, Alice is told that there's nothing wrong with her and she should get a job and stop leeching off society.

Here's one coming up in October. The tale of Winnie the Pooh and Andrew Tate. Lovely. Here we go. Pooh and Tate are under house arrest in the Hundred Acre Wood. As the animals hatch a plot to help them escape to Florida, Pooh says that honey is for beater cucks and from now on he only eats piglets.

This one should be fun. Another modern reimagining of a beloved classic, Lady and the Trump. Are they speaking to the original plot? Kind of. Here is how Disney describes it. A flabby old terrier gets his head stuck in a posh tanning bed. Then one day the terrier's owner takes him for a ride in a Tesla, which instantly catches fire. The end.

Now, I don't know if you've noticed, but most of our so-called planet is not getting on too well at the moment. Putin's still throwing troops at Ukraine like a leathery toddler refusing his diplomatic num-nums. Israel and Hamas are... Oh, hang on, sorry, I should tell you. The BBC now gives all its presenters an envelope to open in the event of discussing Gaza. One second, I'll just open this up. There's a piece of paper in here, let's just see what it says. It says, shut up, for the love of God, shut up. OK, but which God are we talking about? Moving on.

Anyway, boundary disputes are clearly this season's must-have accessory, like crop tops and Nazi salutes. And for the last few weeks, one border barney in particular has been not-so-quietly bubbling over. Canada and the United States, that would really be something.

You get rid of that artificially drawn line, and it would also be much better for national security. Don't forget, we basically protect Canada. That's right. It seems at present the world looks like one big episode of Neighbours from Hell. America versus Canada, it is on, it is on like Saskatchewan.

Someone just said Jesus in the audience. Someone just said Jesus in the audience. It's your own time you're wasting.

Even before retaking the Oval Office, the curious orange had his bafflingly healthy heart set on grabbing his northern neighbours by the beaver and moving on them... ...like a man who respects boundaries the same way that President Zelensky respects moss bros. And apparently, Trump has decided that if he can't have Greenland for his 51st state, Canada will have to do.

Now, so far, Canada has told Trump politely, but firmly, but let's be honest, mostly politely, to vamoose. And this week, the new Canadian Prime Minister, Mark Carney, was asked for his view. Look, let me state the obvious, which is... No, Mark, it's got nothing to do with witches. Carry on. Canada's strong. We can stand up for ourselves. We're Canada. We don't need other people to come to our aid.

Mark, you are literally called Can-Aid-ians. But all this talk of expansionism has got the naked weak thinking. If you can just wake up one morning, decide you fancy taking over your neighbour's turf and announce that borders are now totally irrelevant... If you can just wake up one morning, decide you fancy taking over your neighbour's turf and announce that borders are now totally irrelevant... If it really is that easy, then we want in. Because the naked weak has its own borders. Borders we never agreed to, with neighbours we don't much care for.

And on a Friday evening, when the naked weak is first broadcast, our nearest neighbour is... The Archers. Sure, to you, it might be an everyday story of hard-working farming folk just trying to get by. But to us, it's a priceless quarter-hour of dairy storylines that we think would be much better off as part of the naked weak. They will be our 31st minute. After all, what even is 7pm? It's just a line on a clock. Another artificially drawn border.

Let me be clear, the naked weak does not recognise the so-called sovereign authority of the Radio Times. And as for our Saturday lunchtime repeat, what's on after us? Any questions? Hey, weaklings, I've got a question for you. What are you going to do about it?

So, how to go about annexing the Archers? We've been left with no other choice but a full military invasion. Ahead of our forces going in, let's talk to the naked weak's rural warfare correspondent, Rubina Pabani, who's somewhere near the disputed border with Borsetshire.

Rubina, where are you exactly? At about three minutes past seven.

Rubina, as the invading programme force, do we have intelligence on how the Archers might defend itself from attack? We do. We had a mole inside the Archers. Although, because it was digging up his field at Bridge Farm, Tony Archer has killed it with a spade. Barbaric. The sooner we get wellies on the ground, the better.

What other defences do they have? There's also reports of a solid wall of farmer, udders fashioned into rudimentary blowpipes, and a Trojan pig stuffed with storylines left over from the last fit-of-mouth outbreak. Frankly, I'm already wearing my MAGA hat. It stands for Make Ambridge Graze Again, because they've had issues with flooding at Brookfield Farm. That's where I am, Andy. I can see five cows over there, I can see five cows over there, then seven cows, then five more cows. Sorry, five cows, then seven cows. And five more cows.

Ah. It's the moose in haikus. From the Occupied Territory of Ambridge, Rubina, thank you.

Now, let's turn our attention to the incursion itself. This week has been a turbulent time in the bull, what with Helen Archer being accused by Brian Aldridge of getting into bed with Big Farmer, the Big Farmer in question being Eddie Grundy.

But let me say this. If we want to secure our rightful territory, there will be no compromising. The archers must feel the full weight of the naked-weak military-industrial complex. Linda Snell must not be allowed to join NATO. And so, in a pincer movement from the Ambridge Farm in the south to Grey Gables in the north, we're going in. Cry havoc, and let slip the cows of war.

How was your meeting?

Ah, all right. No dissent among the locals. We're fortifying Willow Farm and laying landmines in adjacent fields. Any pockets of resistance will be dealt with.

Meaning what?

You know what it means, Tony. The naked-weak doesn't negotiate with terrorists.

What can we do about that?

We can protest, Helen. At least we can make our voices heard.

Fruitless. Like Ambridge flour and produce show after the tanks have rolled through.

Oh, I'm going to miss it.

Now, it's Comic Relief Weekend, so I'm off to sit in a tepid bath of mediocrity for Keir Starmer. That's all for this week's Naked Week. Goodbye!

The Naked Week was hosted by Andrew Hunter-Murray, with correspondent Ludwina Pabani and guest Alice Stapleton. It was written by John Holmes, Gareth Keredic, Katie Sayer, Sarah Dempter and Jason Haisley, with investigations team Cat Neelan, Louis Mian, Matt Brown and Freya Shaw. Additional material by Carl Menz, Ali Panting, Cooper Mowini-Swert, Kevin Smith and Olivia Williams. The Naked Week is produced and directed by John Holmes. It's an unusual production for...

Hello, Greg Jenner here. I am the host of You're Dead to Me from BBC Radio 4. We are the comedy show that takes history seriously, and then laughs at it. And we're back for a brand new series, Series 9, where we're covering all sorts of things, from Aristotle, to the legends of King Arthur, to the history of coffee, to the reign of Catherine of Adichie of France. We are looking at the arts and crafts movement, and the life of Sojourner Truth, and how cuneiform writing systems worked in the Bronze Age. Loads of different stuff. It's a fantastic series, it's funny, we get great historians, we get great comedians. So if you want to listen to You're Dead to Me, listen first on BBC Sounds.