Austria requires hairdressers to undergo four years of technical college training and apprenticeship before being allowed to style hair commercially. In the UK, a school leaver fresh out of uniform can set up as a hairdresser. Result? Austrian women have the most unattractive and unflattering hair in all Europe, including Bulgaria, whilst for fifty years British hairstyling has thrilled and inspired women across the world. It's a neat and visible lesson in the effects of over-regulation in stifling creativity and innovation - qualities essential for economic success in a global economy. And just as mediaeval builders who moved for work from Saint Denis to Kent brought England's first ever gothic arches, English Ironmasters taught northern Germany the art of Industry. Free movement of skill, innovation and knowledge throughout Europe has for centuries been the secret of European competitive advantage - and this means allowing free movement of skilled workers.
Even economic migrants or refugees from pogroms and persecution have enriched England; Hugueneots with glassworking and mechanical craft skills, the anonymous German potter who brought the secret of salt-glazed stoneware to London, and not least the poor Russian Jews whose offspring would later found the IEA. And many more, many enriching, enabling and inspiring our own development.
So free movement of people in Europe is always a good thing? To a point, Lord Copper. Try telling that to a Fenlands town where a third of the population are eastern European field labour, strong-backed peasants who can stand all day in the Winter mud and pluck mangel-worzels from the sticky clay. Making food cheap for Tesco, but killing local cultural heritage and cultural identity.
And this is the dichotomy we face; open interchange of skills, ideas and innovation helps us all, but free movement without any restriction whatsoever can destroy a traditional way of life, swamp historic communities and dilute national congruence. And you can't really tell which is which; Ralph Harris' father was a poor Jewish shoemaker, a penniless refugee, who wouldn't have made it past a points system.