Wimbledon thrills, UK spectaculars and the whiff of underperformance: a British paradox

All the way down The Mall, in the heart of London, you can see Union Jacks. The trees are in full leaf. The grand, white buildings look pristine, as do the swept roads and pavements. At one end stands Admiralty Arch, proud and triumphant, a tribute to Queen Victoria and a glorious reign and empire. At the other is its architectural match in Buckingham Palace , its lone flag flying as guards in red uniforms and black bearskins march up and down, and draw crowds of tourists. Does any other nation do pageantry as well as Britain? Royal Ascot has just been and gone, complete with royal carriage processions and top hats and tails. The Chelsea Flower Show and The Derby , too. Then, it’s the turn of Wimbledon . For a fortnight, the All England Lawn Tennis and Croquet Club will display its ability to put on a tennis tournament like no other. The attention to detail, the precision afforded to the mowing of the grass, painting of the white lines, pressing of the officials’ uniforms. And that’s before we get to the carefully arranged flowers and bowls of strawberries and cream. Every single surface will be polished, nothing will be left to chance. Such is the lavishing of care that, amid all the curtsying and protocol, the grunts and groans and sheer sweat of the players can sometimes seem lost. Not for the first time, I will be left wondering why is it that we can carry this off with such panache and earn the admiration of the rest of the world, when travelling even a short distance around the country is often a nightmare, we can’t build enough affordable houses, our state schools are not properly equipped and our hospitals cannot get enough staff. I could go on, but you get the picture. We know how to put on a party, to entertain – witness Sir Elton John ’s performance at the just-closed Glastonbury Festival . We’re brilliant at being a living museum, a heritage centre, at making ourselves accessible to the world’s visitors. We excel at educating the rich folks’ children, in schools that require their pupils to pursue archaic dress codes and customs, housing them in medieval buildings set around quadrangles of neatly mown grass (again). In the City, our institutions carry weight and significance far beyond our shores. Yet, look deeper and you will find a stock market that bears little semblance to the British economy , a FTSE 100 that could once lay claim to represent Britain’s biggest quoted companies but now can’t at all – the bulk of the names are foreign, with the majority of their operations abroad. For the entry list at Wimbledon, see the London Stock Exchange. Until Andy Murray won, we went 77 years without a homegrown male winner. Then he did it again. But since then, we're back to where we were. Next Monday’s draw will contain some British names, but many of them will be there because the organisers have supplied them with a free pass, a ‘wild card’. Otherwise, there would be very few. As it is, barely any will get beyond the early rounds. But look at the surroundings and you could be forgiven for thinking Britain is the powerhouse of world tennis, the land that keeps on producing more champions than any other. Each year, Wimbledon generates vast revenues for the Lawn Tennis Association to be ploughed back into the development of the sport in Britain, and each year, excepting those flashes from Murray and, before him, Tim Henman, we struggle. Same in women’s tennis. Our best hope, Emma Raducanu, shone briefly but is now absent. The perception is that players from elsewhere seem hungrier; they appear to want it more. Are Brits lulled into a false sense of security by their role as hosts? Possibly. It’s as if the grandeur of the environment acts as some sort of comfort blanket, so they do not try as hard. It’s true in business. We have great schools and universities that spawn first-class minds. But when it comes to making money, to competing globally, to taking their smart ideas and turning them into world-beating corporate titans, we fail. Almost without exception, our brightest and best innovators head for the US. What’s shaming about this is that it’s been this way for the past few decades. Our politicians, their officials, appear at a loss to know what to do about it. They said they would make the ground better, that red tape would vanish. It’s still with us. We have one of the most punitive tax regimes in the world; one that is also hideously and unnecessarily complex (our tax rules take more space than those of India). We don’t encourage innovation and risk-taking enough. Just as bad is that we do not ensure our commercial players, let alone the tennis variety, are able to move to the next level and turn into true global competitors. There is another way of looking at it, which is to say that we should sit back and enjoy our status as one giant Disneyland; that other nations crave what we have. The last part is certainly true. So, for two weeks, forget about inflation, labour shortages, energy supply and all the other woes currently besetting us, and bask in something that is uniquely and delightfully British.