mil

I'm a Labour Party member, love the Internet, have worked as a volunteer on OpenOffice.org, am a trained editor, speak Spanish fluently and wish I could speak Croatian. I also find myself thinking, reading, writing, publishing and teaching for a living - and this blog serves to tie together these activities as I try and make sense of the world. I do hope you like some of what you read here - and may even consider leaving a comment or two!

Apr 262013
 

Three posts to contextualise the title of this post.  First, from the Drum, reporting the background to some hot-off-the-press alleged censorship cases, where it seems either Facebook itself or the procedures it has created are leading to the abuse of free speech.

Second, we have the Scriptonite Daily saying these kinds of things:

Yesterday I wrote and published the article The Man Who Pushed a Toy Pig to Downing Street to Save our NHS.  It was intended to raise awareness and support for The Artist Taxi Driver’s art based protest of the privatisation of the NHS.

On publishing the article on my Facebook page I was asked (unusually) to fill in a captcha (the little box that asks you to type the letters you see so they know you aren’t a computer).  Shortly after, people were reporting that they were being asked to complete captchas to share it.  People who tried to open the article were warned by Facebook it was spam and the content unsafe, to dissuade people from reading and sharing the piece.  Despite all this, the article spread and had totalled over a thousand shares direct from the blog.  Then something weird happened.  It disappeared.

The article was removed from Facebook, from everywhere it had been shared. It was removed from every personal wall, group and page where it had appeared.  It disappeared from the wall of any user that had posted it.  The comments and conversations underway on people’s pages were erased.  It was like it had never happened.

Then we have Tom saying this:

Yesterday Facebook suddenly decided to flag this blog as spam – effectively censoring it by scaring away anyone who might want to link to it or share it on Facebook.

That was obviously a surprise but I was even more surprised when a member of staff from JobCentre Plus openly boasted to me that it was she who had reported the blog to Facebook as spam after she got annoyed by this particular satirical blogpost critical of ATOS and the DWP:

Fraudster ATOS fined for supplying fake crip detectors for use in fitness for work tests

It’s obvious even from the headline that the article is pure satire – not spam – but it seems Facebook automatically took the word of a member of staff from JobCentre Plus and dutifully flagged it – and indeed this whole site – as one that should be avoided.

Now, understandably in the circumstances, most people are concluding this is a case of Facebook censoring politics.  I’ve noticed myself, when I use particularly charged titles to my posts, that the layout Facebook allows tends not to have a massive headline or clarity around where the link will go to.  I’ve also noticed that in the afternoon and evenings, very few of my tweets ever get through.  I, even, often don’t see my own posts on Facebook on my own blessed timeline.

All of which goes to show, I think, that Facebook operates in truly mysterious ways: it’s become God for a society so secular and scientific in its belief systems that – maybe, just maybe – we need it to introduce such randomising influences into our lives.  As it says at the end of the Drum article linked to above, Facebook’s attitude to transparency doesn’t half smack of the black boxes that are traditional religion (the bold is mine):

A Facebook blog post from Caroline Ghiossi in 2010, an associate on Facebook’s user operations team, about Facebook’s spam prevention systems said that users sometimes “misunderstand” the systems and incorrectly believe Facebook is restricting speech. It said Facebook was trying to be more transparent but could not divulge details on how its systems work.

I do, therefore, understand the challenges of setting up and administering a Web 2.0 site of this nature, but I also suspect with its billions of active users that it could quite easily follow the ways of the late 20th century Catholic Church.  Attempting to run an empire which expands so hurriedly and hierarchically can only lead in one direction: that of obfuscation (whether accidental or deliberate), confusion (whether pointed or diffuse) and a final collapsing from within as its believers and followers really begin to get the savage drift.

If the integrity of this beast – and others like Twitter – becomes absolutely so randomising as to make it impossible to know whether your speech will communicate or not, many of us I fear will disconnect from the tenets of faith that made a broader Web 2.0 so jolly exciting in its first generous phase.

What’s the point of spending so much of your precious time on these systems if whenever you do it becomes clear you can never change anything at all?  I mean that definitely is an example of pissing in the wind.

Talk about Facebook turning into God as a result of its obscure algorithms.  More pointedly, it’s turning the rest of us into irrelevantly medieval jesters of its court.

It will rot from inside out.  Mark my words.

The writing’s on the wall, dearly beloved Facebook.

Except, of course, when you proceed to stupidly remove it.

Apr 252013
 

Rolling Stone, in its latest edition, has this story to regale you with:

Conspiracy theorists of the world, believers in the hidden hands of the Rothschilds and the Masons and the Illuminati, we skeptics owe you an apology. You were right. The players may be a little different, but your basic premise is correct: The world is a rigged game. We found this out in recent months, when a series of related corruption stories spilled out of the financial sector, suggesting the world’s largest banks may be fixing the prices of, well, just about everything.

I suggest you all read it all before we continue.  So see you in a few minutes, OK?

*

Fixing the prices of, well, just about everything, eh?  That would, I suppose, include not only sovereign debt, community loans and the cost of things that make the world of manufacturing go round but also, indubitably, the price of foodstuffs too.

Can it get any clearer than this?

Time, perhaps, we resurrected my recent idea to “arrest without bail” and “imprison” banks?  This is why we need these two figures – and how they would work:

[...] At the moment, corporations are legal figures with many of the rights and obligations of ordinary people.  This is well known and well documented and I shan’t repeat myself here.  However, what I would like to suggest is that a serious imbalance does exist as far as depriving the liberty of such corporations to act when under investigation – or, indeed, after being found guilty of certain acts.

Ordinary people, for example, quite often when arrested find themselves summarily deprived of their liberty – and no one questions the process.  Apart from the odd legal phonecall or interview or occasional family visit, their radius of action and ability to influence the result is radically reduced.  This allows for the police to carry out necessary investigations, untrammelled by the interference of too many interested – and perhaps self-promoting – parties.

This does not happen in the case of corporate entities: mostly, in cases of even quite severe misdemeanour (witness recent high-profile banking scandals around the long-term money-laundering of drug revenues by banks you’d hardly expect to exhibit such behaviours), we generally find such corporate figures – flesh-and-blood people in everything but flesh-and-blood – do not get arrested; do not need to request bail; and never get imprisoned.  Their liberty is never deprived; they continue to operate in the meantime; they proceed to make their money as before.

Sadly, of course, we often discover after the event that the potential for being fined for some act or another will have been factored into an annual budget before the crimes in question were committed.  A fine, even a large fine, even just the threat of a fine, becomes simply one more operating cost to be contemplated as the logistics of the year are calculated.

And although, on occasions, executives do find themselves accused of specific acts, the processes are so drawn out as to make any sensible adjustment to the direction of our socioeconomic fabrics impossible to engineer.  They frequently manage to stay at the top of their hierarchical games, despite the complaints of shareholders; despite the unhappiness of a wider consuming public; and despite the reputational damage this leads to.  With their battalions of legal support, these alpha men and women feel secure in their protective silos and bunkers of belief.  No wonder they behave as imperiously as they do.

In such cases, not only are the operations of the companies in question left untouched, the ability of their apparently criminal leaders to continue leading remains intact.

My suggestion, then, which came to me as I journeyed – quite appropriately – to the TUC’s founding place, is to engineer two new figures in company law:

  1. the figure of arrest without bail
  2. the figure of imprisonment

How would these work?  Well, in the case of the former, arrest without bail would mean the corporation would have to shut down all its operations immediately.  Just as a person who finds themselves under the same deprivation of liberty, whilst investigations into probable misconduct take place, so we should be able to do the same to a company.  And the mere threat of being able to do this would surely lead to a radical change in how fines and punishments for corporate maleficence were treated and assessed in the future by those who currently quite happily contemplate them.

In the case of the latter figure, the figure of imprisonment, we could suggest that a company might totally cease operations in a similar way once sentence had been passed a posteriori.  Under such circumstances, and for a certain period of time only, the company in question could not continue to occupy the marketplace, in much the same way as a person in prison must effectively cut off all connections to the outside world.

The result would be two powerful instruments to make the corporate figure far more like the human equivalent which – in so many cases – it loves to emulate.

Applied in particular to the banking corporations, it would send a hugely important message around the significance of competence, honesty and openness for our shared societies.

As well as, surely, end the terrible cycle of reward for utter failure – a cycle which appears to be the current tonic and reality of latterday capitalism.

I think the evidence of a seriously consistent, deliberate and intentioned sequence of misdemeanours is piling up enough for a real and concerted series of contrary actions to be designed, shaped and implemented.

Don’t you?

A 21st century banking fix in search of a 21st century legal fix.  A way of changing radically how banking corporations behave.  A way of recovering these astonishing tools to organise the masses, in order that – in potential harmony – different ways of seeing and doing might serve to re-establish some sense of overall sensibility.

If you like – and finally get – my drift, that is.

If you appreciate the measure of what apparently needs to be done.

Apr 252013
 

This story from the Mirror today does really make manifest the idiocy which abounds at the moment:

A young sidekick of David Cameron has claimed hard-up families are turning to food banks because they’ve wasted their money on booze.

The Twitter outburst by Liam Walker caused outrage in the Prime Minister’s constituency.

We’ve had this kind of rank insensitivity – where not inaccuracy – before and we’ll clearly have it again.  Now we could argue, as I did recently, that this was essentially a result of a kind of psychotic relationship with reality at the very top of government.  But I’m beginning seriously to consider whether the real explanation lies elsewhere.  As I tweeted a day or so ago:

Our social-democratic society, in its kindly appreciation of all human beings, has allowed ambitious idiots to climb to the top of the pile.

In a sense, then, we might wish to conclude that the Liam Walkers of this world are the product of social media’s zero hierarchies, which in themselves are the products of our dearly-, and perhaps lately-, beloved social democracy, in its long-pronounced labour and aim to value everyone equally.

If I am at all right in what I suggest, we’re not seeing the result of us all being a product of a hierarchical neoliberalism, where cruel announcements, decisions and outcomes tumble out of the mouths of the vicious; no, not at all.  Instead, what we’re seeing is the results of those “everyone is a human being” socially-democratic mindsets, where everything anyone thinks or says is to be contemplated, understood and considered with a judicious and egalitarian care.

What the Liam Walkers of this world are visiting upon us now is precisely the consequence of what the Liam Walkers least appreciate in their upbringing: they have grown up with the feeling that they have every right to “blurt out” this stuff, because the society, schools, environment and political legacy they respect so little has taught them that hierarchy, meritoriously achieved, has zero importance in the 21st century.

Am I reverting to type then?  A “weirdy-hippy” thinker, perhaps, who spends a decade proclaiming the virtue of flat hierarchies – only to suddenly discover the downsides of their prevalence in the words of a government hanger-on?

Maybe so.  Though I think it more complex than that.  The key is in the phrase “meritoriously achieved”.  This “merit” process, as previously defined by social democracy, and then by New Labour’s more complicated – perhaps more confusing – re-engineering of its implications, was never really achieved.  The society of aspiration and opportunity as thus described ended up simply as more smoke and mirrors to hide the graft.

I suppose what I’m really looking to promote in all of this is that via mice (social media), social democracy (a meritorious society) and idiots (like social you and me), we might fashion a different way of communicating amongst ourselves: a way where each of us, through a little-by-little learning process, acquired the skills that Walker clearly doesn’t have when using the power that flat hierarchies clearly offer.

The Walkers of this world deserve our scorn, it is true.  But we’ve all done similar stuff, driven by the prejudices none of us can ever shake off.  Before social media, we did this stuff behind the scenes and in private.  Now the private has become public, maybe we need a different approach to life.  Maybe what we really need to start doing is filtering out the idiocies in all our pronouncements, as we focus on controlling the terms and natures of the debates which most affect our lives.

Yes.  We will continue, as human beings, to be publicly idiotic.

But maybe knowing we are all so will lead us to a kinder and more respectful place.

We can only hope.

And, also, try.

Even as trying is clearly never quite enough.

Apr 232013
 

Amazon Cloud services used by 38 Degrees

I saw a BBC Panorama documentary recently on the subject of North Korea.  Towards the end, after showing those of us who know nothing the veritable horrors of the place, it compared the advertising-free misery of the North Korean underground with the magnificent and joyful hoarding-invaded South Korea.  If I remember rightly, on more than one occasion our attention was drawn to this defining advantage of living in the free world – as if the quantity of advertising which serves to puncture our eyes is somehow a litmus test of how free we really are.

Well, I’m sorry but I don’t agree.  And today I read a story from the Spanish El País newspaper which simply confirms me in my resistance.  In it, we discover (robot English translation here) that the Madrid Metro Línea 2 - along with its iconic stop Sol – will become the sponsorship property of the Vodafone phone company, to such an extent that the aforementioned station will be renamed vodafone Sol.  In exchange for a three-year deal, it appears that a paltry €3 million will exchange hands.  But, of course, the story won’t end with the “awarding” of these “naming rights”.  As the article goes on to report:

[...] El acuerdo previsto con la empresa tiene una duración de tres años, lo que supone unos tres millones de euros. Para González es una “posibilidad enorme de ingresos” para Metro. “Tenemos 11 líneas más y muchas estaciones” que ofertar, ha recordado el presidente.

Loosely translating as:

[...] The agreement in question with the company will last three years, which means some three million euros.  For González, this presupposes an “enormous opportunity of income” for Metro.  “We have 11 lines and many stations” to offer, the president has reminded everyone.

So let’s just analyse exactly what’s going on here.  A public entity which has been offering state-funded services to a taxpaying city (I assume the Metro service is still all of these things, though – after so much economic despair – I may of course be wrong by now) has decided, in its wisdom, that it has the right to sell off to a foreign corporation the rights to name public spaces as if they were private spaces of public use.  Given the experience we’ve supposedly had with the Vodafones of the world here in Britain, as perfectly legal tax avoidance has begun to drill holes in the future financial planning of the state and our public services, this really does seem to be adding considerable insult to hurtful injury.  Especially when the people responsible for the deal appear to be saying that the cost of using the service will continue to rise for end-users, despite the corporate dosh changing hands.

That is to say, in an ongoing and awful political and socioeconomic crisis, where Spanish youth unemployment has hit over fifty percent and politicians of parties various have both enriched themselves and their business mates in a long-drawn-out process of terrible fecklessness (clearly at the expense of all the nations that make up the country), the Madrid Metro finds itself obliged to go with its begging bowl to precisely those guarantors of the free world which have brought us all to our knees in the first place.

To such an extent we finally discover that these people don’t only destroy our economies and welfare states so as to own us materially but also, now, look to own our public spaces – so as to own us emotionally too.

Can you imagine it?

The Starbucks Northern Line.

The Google Circle Line.

The Amazon Jubilee Line.

Hurts, doesn’t it?  Hurts so much it burns.  Burns like brands originally did.  And I bet it’ll come sooner than you think to England’s green and evermore unpleasant land.

Happy St Google’s Day!

Wonder what Shakespeare would’ve had to say about it all.

To brand or not to brand, perhaps?  Would that be the question?

St Google's Day

Apr 232013
 

Chris Dillow describes himself as “An extremist, not a fanatic”.  In the definition of “radicalisation” given by Wikipedia, and by extension others out there too, I’m not sure this fine distinction between two highly relevant concepts is properly allowed for:

Radicalization (or radicalisation) is a process by which an individual or group comes to adopt increasingly extreme political, social, or religious ideals and aspirations that (1) reject or undermine the status quo[1] or (2) reject and/or undermine contemporary ideas and expressions of freedom of choice. For example, radicalism can originate from a broad social consensus against progressive changes in society. Radicalization can be both violent and nonviolent, although most academic literature focuses on radicalization into violent extremism (RVE).[2] There are multiple pathways that constitute the process of radicalization, which can be independent but are usually mutually reinforcing.[3][4]

To be radical is often seen as a positive thing in modern politics.  Perhaps we are still in the thrall of the times of Reaganomics and Thatcherism where language was inverted in order to evidence that what was plainly regressive and hyper-conservative could actually be interpreted as truly progressive.

That radicalisation can have its violent side is, of course, without a doubt a truth of heavy sadness.  The Guardian reports in exactly these terms in relation to the recent bombings at the Boston marathon, although I found the instinct to use Amazon wish lists in defining the nature of individual beliefs problematic in many senses to say the least.  But, as always, radicalisation is a question of point of view too.  If you don’t believe me, let’s take a look at these lines:

The Russians are bent on world dominance, and they are rapidly acquiring the means to become the most powerful imperial nation the world has seen. The men in the Soviet Politburo do not have to worry about the ebb and flow of public opinion. They put guns before butter, while we put just about everything before guns.[61]

Spoken by Margaret Thatcher in 1976, a woman who a few years before had put tiny financial savings before free milk for seven- to eleven-year-olds, I would suggest that these words clearly showed the characteristic vocabulary and tone of a radicalisation as equally bent on its own very particular agenda and as equally inflexible as any other.

That we tended to agree with the fanaticism of Margaret Thatcher as expressed thus, in the face of a horrible regime, doesn’t make any less radicalising her statements or positions.  On a spectrum, then, of political extremists and fanatics, at least in relation to the Soviet Union, I think Margaret Thatcher fairly figures up there with any other.

Now all I am trying to say with this is that the broader event of radicalisation in an individual – both violent and non-violent - can happen as a result of severe monolithic-like behaviours outside the person.  If society’s discourse is not mainly couched in collaborative terms, people little by little feel left out.  Latterday Western civilisation doesn’t seem to want to acknowledge this either: instead, it looks to increase its ability to keep the lid on things by spying on, investigating and condemning a priori and essentially criminalising as many people as it potentially can, in order that it might keep each of us on our terrified and complicit toes.

And yet imaginative thought, the kind of creative acts that bring about substantive and important change in the way we learn how to do things, is a radical act if there ever was one.  If we refuse to distinguish between what we might call radicals in opposition to the status quo from radicals who think freely about the status quo, we will lose exactly that element of being a human which distinguishes us from what it is to be an animal.

In a sense, putting all the above in the box of “radicalisation” and then creating a sequence of vigorous and unappealing laws which allow leaders to impose their will without honest or useful question – precisely in the name of protecting that now unradical, possibly even unfree, status quo - is to lose so much of what it is to be a thinking person, out of the simple fear that people will care to answer back.

Not only answer back either – also, answer back more accurately.

There must, surely, be a way for modern politics and business to finally accept that the educated populaces which now people the planet are radicalising themselves precisely because they are being given no opportunity to do meaningful stuff at their levels of competence.  This isn’t my hoary old proclamation that hierarchy is dead: this is, rather, an appeal to sense and sensibility.  Kings and queens and prime ministers and presidents existed in times of relative illiteracy.  This is manifestly no longer the case.  We need, therefore, a different way of keeping the lid on things.  And that way can only be this: by preventing the pressure building up in the first place.  Don’t simply aim to terrify or diffuse: instead, make those people you’re terrifying or distracting a true and continuing part of the solution.

Forget your hierarchies of kings and queens.  Accept that illiteracy is a thing of the past.  Understand the difference between being radical and being free radical.  And come to the realisation, where not the radicalisation, that people are a finite and perishable resource you ignore at all our perils.

Apr 212013
 

My previous post dealt with two new legal figures I suggested we created: the “arrest without bail” of corporations and the “imprisonment” of the same.  I considered them necessary in order to avoid continued abuse by corporate entities happy to have access to the rights of human beings where these benefited them but resistant to acquiring the corresponding obligations.

I’m beginning to wonder if something of an equally psychological bent isn’t affecting our government and its leaders.  I’ve commented previously on the “info-bubble” that is afflicting those of us who interface with social media and its networks.  Knowledge doesn’t automatically confer power any more.  And it would appear that the powerful no longer have to avoid being found out – they simply have to avoid being punished.

A series of examples can be found here at Steve’s blogsite.  The latest in many weeks’ sorry tales – involved as it is this time – is pretty horrifying.  The casual nature of the apparent psychological abuse thus documented seems to confirm many people’s prejudices about corrupting behaviours in multifarious foreign organisations – the alleged source of such tests – as well as the influence they may have further afield.

So it is that in the “info-bubble” I’ve already referred to previously, we know so much and they know we know.  And yet they continue brazenly, their reputations intact, their ability to continue performing unaffected by the truth entering the public domain.  Is this an example, then, of how the digital age actually works in favour of the powerful?  For there would appear, in the end, to be absolutely no way of making enough people care too much about all the important stories out there.

In fact, we could argue we’re all suffering from a kind of “digitisis” – an infirmity where perpetual stimulation leaves us unable to focus too long on anything.  Never mind a week being a long time in politics – how about fifteen minutes?

But I wonder if the above-mentioned traumas only operate on those at the business end of the procedure.  Do those who implement this stuff emerge entirely unscathed?  What, after all, is the psychology of being found out and not punished?  How do those who suddenly discover that doing bad stuff can happen, without anything happening to them, react to such a realisation?

Can any human being, however powerful or worthy of our attention they may be, resist the temptation, attraction and recognition of their suddenly conferred omnipotence?

For in reality, social media and its networks have created a cauldron of data where unacceptable scandal, wrongness and incompetence get mixed up with photos of kittens, mega-breakfasts and famously-branded cups of oversized coffee.  And it’s a psychosis of sorts, you know: a detachment from reality; a levelling of information hierarchy; a sudden equality of importance.

The Coalition’s punishment-free delinquency is but one more symptom which registers on our timeline of Western civilisation’s unhappy progress.

I’m sure it exists in other places too.

I just wish there was something we could humanely do.

Apr 212013
 

This story was brought to my attention by Paul Bernal on Twitter this morning.  It involves what he described as a Labour-funded think tank, IPPR, coming up with the brilliant (#irony) idea to turn unemployment benefit into a loan which would be repayable on returning to work.  You can find the story on the Observer at the moment here.

IPPR, meanwhile, is fairly transparent as think tanks go.  As per the Who Funds You? website, it gets an “A” rating – and on its own website lists current funders thus.  Quite a mixed bag, in fact: from charities and David Miliband himself to the European Commission, Serco (#hmm), Aviva, the consumer magazine Which?, a brace of Joseph Rowntree organisations and the City of London Corporation.  Hardly straightforwardly Labour-funded, then.

The news did, however, cause me to tweet in the following way:

Taxpayer bailouts; student loans; now the poor in their grasp. The real something-for-nothing scroungers are the bloody banks themselves!

And it’s true.  It seems to me that in a crisis entirely due to mismanagement in and around the financial sector – both technical and technocratic it has to be said – those who continue to pay the price for such disintegration are those hardest hit by its consequences.  So it is we reward instead of punish the banking corporations for having got it so wrong.  As money gets tighter for the poor, opportunities for the banks to make easy cash off our backs are expanded not only by the Wonga-style market forces of the desultory high street but also by the bright and bushy-tailed think-tank boffins themselves.  I can’t think of another sector in the world – or, indeed, in history – where failure was such a profitable act.

Nor, in fact, where it continues to get even more profitable.

But, on the train yesterday on the way to a Manchester policy forum, I stumbled across a solution to all our ills.  At the moment, corporations are legal figures with many of the rights and obligations of ordinary people.  This is well known and well documented and I shan’t repeat myself here.  However, what I would like to suggest is that a serious imbalance does exist as far as depriving the liberty of such corporations to act when under investigation – or, indeed, after being found guilty of certain acts.

Ordinary people, for example, quite often when arrested find themselves summarily deprived of their liberty – and no one questions the process.  Apart from the odd legal phonecall or interview or occasional family visit, their radius of action and ability to influence the result is radically reduced.  This allows for the police to carry out necessary investigations, untrammelled by the interference of too many interested – and perhaps self-promoting – parties.

This does not happen in the case of corporate entities: mostly, in cases of even quite severe misdemeanour (witness recent high-profile banking scandals around the long-term money-laundering of drug revenues by banks you’d hardly expect to exhibit such behaviours), we generally find such corporate figures – flesh-and-blood people in everything but flesh-and-blood – do not get arrested; do not need to request bail; and never get imprisoned.  Their liberty is never deprived; they continue to operate in the meantime; they proceed to make their money as before.

Sadly, of course, we often discover after the event that the potential for being fined for some act or another will have been factored into an annual budget before the crimes in question were committed.  A fine, even a large fine, even just the threat of a fine, becomes simply one more operating cost to be contemplated as the logistics of the year are calculated.

And although, on occasions, executives do find themselves accused of specific acts, the processes are so drawn out as to make any sensible adjustment to the direction of our socioeconomic fabrics impossible to engineer.  They frequently manage to stay at the top of their hierarchical games, despite the complaints of shareholders; despite the unhappiness of a wider consuming public; and despite the reputational damage this leads to.  With their battalions of legal support, these alpha men and women feel secure in their protective silos and bunkers of belief.  No wonder they behave as imperiously as they do.

In such cases, not only are the operations of the companies in question left untouched, the ability of their apparently criminal leaders to continue leading remains intact.

My suggestion, then, which came to me as I journeyed – quite appropriately – to the TUC’s founding place, is to engineer two new figures in company law:

  1. the figure of arrest without bail
  2. the figure of imprisonment

How would these work?  Well, in the case of the former, arrest without bail would mean the corporation would have to shut down all its operations immediately.  Just as a person who finds themselves under the same deprivation of liberty, whilst investigations into probable misconduct take place, so we should be able to do the same to a company.  And the mere threat of being able to do this would surely lead to a radical change in how fines and punishments for corporate maleficence were treated and assessed in the future by those who currently quite happily contemplate them.

In the case of the latter figure, the figure of imprisonment, we could suggest that a company might totally cease operations in a similar way once sentence had been passed a posteriori.  Under such circumstances, and for a certain period of time only, the company in question could not continue to occupy the marketplace, in much the same way as a person in prison must effectively cut off all connections to the outside world.

The result would be two powerful instruments to make the corporate figure far more like the human equivalent which – in so many cases – it loves to emulate.

Applied in particular to the banking corporations, it would send a hugely important message around the significance of competence, honesty and openness for our shared societies.

As well as, surely, end the terrible cycle of reward for utter failure – a cycle which appears to be the current tonic and reality of latterday capitalism.

Apr 202013
 

I was in Manchester this morning, attending an NHS Policy Forum with Andy Burnham.  He gave us a fascinating lesson in political matchmaking, which clearly serves to cement his position as a tactician of considerable importance in Labour’s chances at the 2015 general election.  My objective in this post is to explain why I believe this to be the case.

Most of what he said today, and it took nigh on fifty minutes to do so, can be found here at the moment over at the Labour Party website, in a speech he gave previously to the King’s Fund in January of this year.  I suggest you read this before we continue.

Essentially, he proposes pulling together physical, mental and social care into one £120 billion integrated and unified budget.  He referred early on to the World Health Organisation definition of health, and it bears quoting again:

Health is a state of complete physical, mental and social well-being and not merely the absence of disease or infirmity.

The correct bibliographic citation for the definition is:

Preamble to the Constitution of the World Health Organization as adopted by the International Health Conference, New York, 19-22 June, 1946; signed on 22 July 1946 by the representatives of 61 States (Official Records of the World Health Organization, no. 2, p. 100) and entered into force on 7 April 1948.

The Definition has not been amended since 1948.

In order to make this “whole person” approach work in a free-at-point-of-use dynamic, he suggests bringing together not only what we might term as the “medical” professionals and services in the three areas mentioned but also other areas of specialist support such as housing, early years’ delivery and infrastructures etc, under the umbrella of single point-of-contact access.  And in a sense, this does makes sense: anyone who’s had to live in mould-ridden poor quality housing for example, whether social or private, will have experienced having their confidence undermined; their health attacked; and their sense of autonomy diminished – all of which lead to physical, mental and broader social care challenges likely to generate costs and fracture in these latter areas.

What better way, then, to deal with an ageing population and its very special social care needs (Alzheimer’s, physical infirmity, reduced mobility, mental unhappiness and so forth) than to take the bull by the horns, make a virtue of a necessity and suggest we extend, not reduce, the reach of the National Health Service?  In essence, re-engineer its original values for a 21st century of quite different circumstances, where a care crisis of unhappy proportions is advancing on us all.

Now there was little detail, it must be said, in the proposals themselves: but that wasn’t the purpose of the process in question at this stage.  As he clearly flagged up, he was looking to provide a framework and see how Party input could then flesh out such details.  One thing he did suggest was a, say, ten percent levy (I’m sure this was a bit back-of-the-envelope, but no less interesting for that) on people’s estates to pay for that free-at-point-of-use social care late in life – and it’s not as if this isn’t already happening via the private sector, as our grandparents struggle to fund rising healthcare, accommodation and general living costs, especially as pensions and savings are hit from all sorts of economic broadsides.

In a round-table discussion, held afterwards in groups across this extremely well-attended policy forum, someone suggested Burnham was doing little more than give priority to a highly fragmented social care provision as it currently stands: given that it’s the responsibility of councils, this view of Burnham’s real drivers would argue he had identified a highly powerful constituency – the greying group of citizens we are all becoming – and was looking to prioritise the needs of such a constituency for general electoral reasons.  If this were true, of course, we’d have a politician of Mandelson-like proportions: the Machiavellian nature of this approach could hardly contrast more fiercely with the straightforward and straight-talking image Burnham has I think quite rightly acquired.

And I don’t think Burnham is only playing politics here.  Of course, he’s looking for big and bold policy to lever Labour’s return to power – and who wouldn’t?  Especially with the complex brief – at the centre of the Labour Party’s very soul, as I think he alluded to – which he is having to sustain and drive forward in a political environment clearly infused by a savage, cunning and long-planned privatisation already well in hand.

I think he truly believes in a more humanistic medicine – a more holistic national support system for all our needs, in fact.  And I think the ambition is well worth pursuing too.  I do have some initial reservations, of course:

  • a single-point-of-contact for all our “whole person” services would require the sharing of vast amounts of parallel data with the implications this might have for our data security and privacy
  • such a system of access would require a whole new level of professionals upskilled in coordinating vastly different specialisations – and in truth, throwing even more managerialism and support services at the NHS would hardly be the first thing to make you popular in the eyes of the public
  • for patients, service-users, children, parents, tenants and “customers” various to perceive the services thus delivered in a seamless way would require those delivering the services behind the scenes to acquire similar cultures – not an easy thing in times of crisis or massive change as anyone who has been through, for example, a corporate merger will bear witness to
  • homing in – as I think was also suggested – on the home as the unit of primary focus, instead of on the hospital as the significant and principle local infrastructure, could lead to the withdrawal of such community-based delivery some way down the line, where any change of political colours in local or national government took place, or when any rising political star needed to make a name for themselves: in much the same way as it’s easier to remove a bus service than it is to remove a tram, so a hospital would almost certainly remain where a fleet-of-foot “whole person” approach could simply end up dismantled by the next cohort of bushy-tailed Tories
  • finally, the NHS is hardly known for democratic accountability: putting the “whole person” budget into one massive pot would, therefore, require very careful analysis – a priori, surely – of how to ensure useful democratic oversight in a meaningful way without incurring, once again, those top-down New Labour managerialist tendencies of overarching targets and tick-box exercises at the expense of the more humane approach I think Burnham wishes to pursue

There is, in fact, a sense that the cradle-to-grave aspect of the proposal could simply reignite fears about Blair’s nanny state: inspecting the health of your children from the day they are born; inspecting the food you give your children; inspecting the schools that deliver the education judged appropriate; inspecting the degree to which you as an adult follow the rules of good personal healthcare; inspecting the degree to which you are properly housed; inspecting the moment at which you are considered worthy of preventative medicalisation; inspecting and acquiring the resource to give everyone the right to social care.

But what are the alternatives to such a proposal?  Burnham, after all, proposes nothing less than the socialisation of health: the opportunity not to be fearful of old age but to live it for as long as possible with points of familial reference in one’s own home and surroundings.  The opportunity, if you like, to die in one’s home wherever humanly possible – without being abandoned to the vagaries of lonely decay.

For it is surely clear that social care, right now, in its fragmented state, is too much a case of “malnourished users” and “minimum-waged workforces”.  And this will be the future of the NHS too, if we don’t do something now to correct the errors of the ways of too many governments past.

And if we choose not to run with this socialisation of health I perceive in Burnham’s proposals?  Then we will run the risk of the reverse happening anyway: via the corporate forces that wish to medicalise us everywhere: in everything we do, in the costly services they sell us, in the residential homes they build empires on the backs of, in the outsourcing agreements they wrench from their commissioning groups, in the tendency modern medical mindsets and infrastructures have when they make so grand and big and imposingly different the first, second, third, fourth and last ages of all our lives.

If for no other reasons than these, then, Burnham’s “whole person” approach – even with the caveats I mention above – does sincerely deserve both our attention and our time.  To make the support of our wider humanity the flagship of Labour thought over the cruel and deliberate monetisation of suffering – its turning of human beings into little more than units of profit-generating resource – is surely both a vote-winner as well as a re-establishment of key beliefs too many of us have carelessly unattended to in sad recent times.

One final thought.  Whatever you do, however you structure it, let this be the clearest clarion call Labour makes: free-at-point-of-access support for every key definer of equal opportunity in our often kindly, occasionally cruel and generally variegated lives.

We cannot completely eliminate risk from our lives – but we should do everything we can to eliminate fear.

And so that is where we’re at: a 21st century reworking of socialism itself – driven by a strikingly self-effacing top-flight politician such as Andy Burnham – which just might end up dropping into the lap of a furiously modernising Labour Party.

A Labour Party – barely five years since it showed signs of an awful creeping political amnesia – just looking for a way to prove itself healthy and fighting fit all over again.

And able to do so with a long-term strategy which just might do the same for the rest of us too.

Apr 192013
 

I’ve had an up-and-down relationship with Amazon over the recent past.  I won’t be so tedious as to link to any specific posts of mine, but if you’re interested in finding out more from my side of a fence I sometimes straddle rather painfully, I suggest you click here and read the page thus generated.

Whether I’m currently in favour of or against the behemoth, I’ve always always been aware that entrusting one’s reading habits to an online agency is tantamount to giving up gold dust to professional profilers.  How much can they know about you in order to one day thus condemn you for the content you silently, maybe unknowingly, perused and absorbed – whilst flitting, promiscuously one might even say, from one digitalised byte to another.

Which brings me to this sad story from the Independent just now, on the subject of the Boston bombings.  It would seem that one of the suspects, now dead, had left a digital trail behind him.  A YouTube account being one; and get this, an Amazon wish list being the other.  As the paper reports, with the caveat of “unconfirmed”:

An Amazon “wish list” activated in 2006 under the name Tamerlan (also unconfirmed) show the suspect had looked at books including How To Make Driver’s Licenses and Other ID on Your Home Computer, Voice Power: Using Your Voice to Captivate, Persuade and Command Attention, Document Fraud and Other Crimes of Deception and How To Win Friends And Influence People.

Pretty convincing, eh?  Pretty damning evidence for anyone capable of carrying out such evil.

Now I’m not questioning anything relating to the investigation itself, which under highly trying circumstances must be a nightmare to live through, both from the point of view of citizens suffering the lockdown of Boston as well as from the point of view of all the security forces doing their level best to sort out the tragedy.  What I am questioning, however, is the casual way that online information of this sort is becoming part and parcel of serious media reporting.  Can anyone reasonably justify the tendentious use of such information in the middle of a mass-murder hunt, for example?  Isn’t this just about the online equivalent of putting salacious phrases in anonymous quotation marks?  By simply placing such “unconfirmed” data in front of the public gaze, we can lead anyone down any garden path we care to.  Never mind all those users out there who thought their wish lists were part of a private relationship with a corporate provider of goods and services.  Never mind all those users out there who’d simply prefer to maintain their sense of privacy, even as privacy seems the very last thing on our rapaciously data-hungry minds.

So just to give you an idea of what I mean, here’s my pretty dormant Amazon wish list (ranging from 2006 at the top to 2003 at the bottom, and – not that it matters now – currently with a privacy setting I assume won’t ever be changed unless I choose to do so myself).  This, then, as it stands today:

1.
The Shape of a Pocket by John Berger (Author)
£6.89
1
0
2.
About Looking​ (Vintag​e Interna​tional)​ by Berger (Author)
1
0
3.
Weekend​ [1967] [DVD] DVD ~ Mireille Darc
£11.00
1
0
4.
Breathl​ess [DVD] [1961] DVD ~ Jean-Paul Belmondo
1
0
5.
Battles​hip Potemki​n [1925] [DVD] Offered by bestmediagroup DVD ~ Aleksandr Antonov
£6.99
1
0
6.
Culture​s and Organiz​ations:​ Softwar​e of the Mind (Succes​sful Strateg​ist) by Geert Hofstede (Author)
1
0
7.
Lend Me Your Ears: Great Speeche​s in History​ by William Safire (Author)
1
0
8.
Culture​ Jam: How to Reverse​ America​’s Suicida​l Consume​r Binge – and Why We Must by Kalle Lasn (Author)
£11.70
1
0
9.
No Logo: No Space. No Choice.​ No Jobs by Naomi Klein (Author)
1
0
10.
The New Rulers of the World by John Pilger (Author)
1
0
11.
Captive​ State: The Corpora​te Takeove​r of Britain​ by George Monbiot (Author)
£8.99
1
0
12.
The World We’re in by Will Hutton (Author)
£12.74
1
0
13.
Media Control​: The Spectac​ular Achieve​ments of Propaga​nda by Noam Chomsky (Author)
£5.24
1
0
14.
Hidden Agendas​ by John Pilger (Author)
£8.27
1
0
15.
Rogue States:​ The Rule of Force in World Affairs​ by Noam Chomsky (Author)
£14.24
1
0
16.
Beyond Culture​ by Edward T. Hall (Author)
£10.99
1
0
17.
Downsiz​e This (Pan paperba​ck) by Michael Moore (Author)
1
0
18.
When Culture​s Collide​: Managin​g Success​fully Across Culture​s by Richard D. Lewis (Author)
1
0
19.
Cross Cultura​l Communi​cation:​ A Visual Approac​h by Richard D. Lewis (Author)
1
0
20.
Explori​ng Culture​: Exercis​es, Stories​ and Synthet​ic Culture​s by Geert Hofstede (Author)
£22.00
1
0
21.
Regardi​ng the Pain of Others by Susan Sontag (Author)
1
0
22.
The End of the America​n Era: U.S. Foreign​ Policy and the Geopoli​tics of the Twenty-​First Century​ by Charles Kupchan (Author)
1
0
23.
Paris 1919: Six Months That Changed​ the World by Richard Holbrooke (Foreword), Margaret MacMillan (Author)
1
0
24.
The Tragedy​ of Great Power Politic​s by John J. Mearsheimer (Author)
1
0
25.
Paradis​e and Power: America​ and Europe in the New World Order by Robert Kagan (Author)
1
0
26.
Adolf Hitler:​ My Part in his Downfal​l by Spike Milligan (Author)
1
0
27.
Third Culture​ Kids: The Experie​nce of Growing​ Up Among Worlds by David C. Pollock (Author), Ruth E. Van Reken (Author)
1
0
28.
The Art of Coming Home by Craig Storti (Author)
1
0
29.
Breakin​g Through​ Culture​ Shock: What You Need to Succeed​ in Interna​tional Busines​s by Elisabeth Marx (Author)
£14.24
1
0
30.
The Lexus and the Olive Tree by Thomas Friedman (Author)
£6.89
1
0
31.
From Beirut to Jerusal​em: One Man’s Middle Eastern​ Odyssey​ by Thomas Friedman (Author)
£8.96
1
0
32.
Longitu​des and Attitud​es: Explori​ng the World After Septemb​er 11 by Thomas L. Friedman (Author)
1
0
33.
The Future of Ideas: The Fate of the Commons​ in a Connect​ed World by Lawrence Lessig (Author)
1
0

 

What about that, eh?  All that stuff about world politics and 9/11 I mean?  What does that say about me now?

Draw your own conclusions … only do have the decency to wait until I’ve committed some stupid crime or another.  Or not, as the case may be.  For remember, a wish list tends to be a list of stuff we haven’t read!  Can we really be fairly criticised for simply listing what might be of interest?

This is serious stuff, isn’t it?  Really serious stuff.  We are getting to the point where we cannot follow our intellectual whims without fear of judgement: where what we read – or simply want to read – defines what we are in the eyes of the state; where content – whether desired or experienced – becomes the linchpin and conduit of our obsessions; and where assumptions are sickeningly drawn about we think, believe and would like to do from what we are inclined to favourite, click and examine.

And it’s a small step from analysing it idly and mediatically after the event, as in the case I describe today of the alleged Boston bomber, to forensically studying and coming to conclusions before the event – before, that is, a crime is actually committed.

Is this all that different from the miasma of control and suspicion that a 20th century Soviet Union exemplified?

Aren’t we returning to awfully Cold War roots?

And mustn’t we really begin to question now the true nature of the liberties that a 21st century of corporate largesse has managed to bestow on us to date?

A society of the free?  When a simple literary checklist is held up in a newspaperly light as an unarguable sign of unacceptable thought patterns?

Whatever next, dear friends?  Whatever next?

Well, how about this thought to be going away with?  On a separate matter, and quite outside the frame of awful bombings, an example of a clear barometer – if there ever was one – of how the freedoms of a society might generally be defined: if art and culture, however shocking they behave, escape the clutches of state disapprobation, we live in a free society.  On the other hand, where even the mildest artistic shockwave brings the establishment to a halt, we must accept that we find ourselves in blindly oppressive regimes.

On such a scale, then, on such a barometer of liberty, and in the light of the blessed wish list in question, how actually free may we see our society at the minute?

Or how blindly oppressive must we recognise its future to be?

Apr 192013
 

Last night, I posted rather dispiritedly on the future of representative democracy:

This would appear not to be only morally wrong but also economically and socially disastrous.  So are we saying that an equilibrium of forces in democracy is bad for society?  The legislative log-jams you get in the US would seem to indicate, at an anecdotal level, that this might be the case.  But if the paper I quote from above correctly supports Kath’s assessment of the dynamics behind 1970s’ British politics – that is to say, an example of appeasement pure and simple – it’s a pretty poor road and destination ahead for the idea of trying to represent anyone.  In a more fractured and niche-like age, if we aim for a responsive environment, then we will only get pulled in separate directions – with the results Kath’s 1970s brought us; with the results that latterday American governance generates.  Meanwhile, if we aim for a more prescriptive environment, little more than an encroaching fascism of private largesse will emerge – a private largesse where powerful centres of control and understanding impose their will aggressively on the multitudes.  In much the same way as is happening right now.

I thought about this post for about twenty-four hours, but only wrote it after a local branch AGM and nomination meeting to vote for our preferred candidates to go forward in the Chester Labour Constituency Party prospective parliamentary candidate (PPC) election process.  I suppose I felt obliged not to describe the details of the meeting itself, and instead spoke about my wider thoughts on the apparent futility of current representative democracy.

Not that the latter reflects my feelings of the evening with any degree of accuracy.  I am thinking more widely now, and found myself with a desire to write something yesterday.

Positively, however, one of the candidates who did get nominated brought my attention to the video below.  It’s about the forgotten wealth creators of Britain, and is obviously – why not? – a Labour Party broadcast.  Watch it first, and then we’ll discuss my reactions below.


http://youtu.be/i6j27pG4M-8

My reactions then?  It has a tonality and photography, a mise en scène, which so reminds me of so many series about World War II.  You can almost breathe the cream-coloured walls, the greens and browns of khaki-uniformed soldiers, the smell of working sweat – and the oppression of a Colditz-informed injustice, as powerful forces impose their will on ordinary working-people caught up in a wider conflict they barely – even now – comprehend.

If this is One Nation Labour, it’s a concept of nationhood which is beginning to be understood through the dynamics of war – perhaps, in particular, those dynamics of Fifth Column activists: the enemy at home clearly being the Tory Party and its hangers-on.  Or more accurately still, the Tory Party’s paymasters on whom the venerable organisation so clearly depends: for its funding, for its policies and – ultimately – for its soul.

And although I still find culturally two-dimensional, where not entirely inaccurate, the idea of a One Nation Labour which aims to contain all the nations of our islands, I can also see the potential power of the message: this video is just one element of the process, as the idea of the societal value of ordinary people working together gathers an undeniable weight through the presentation of undeniable evidence.

This is Ed Miliband’s Labour doing an updated Ronald Reagan: speaking to the people directly over the heads of the unrepresentative opinion-formers, in a language which does not simplify or reduce but – simply – uses the sophisticated visual markers which in a televisual age we are all used to and understand.

Good stuff.

Like it very much.

More please, along these lines.

Apr 182013
 

Kath has a really interesting concept in a piece I’ve already quoted from which can be found over at Speaker’s Chair at the moment (the bold is mine):

When Thatcher came to power, the country had already descended into a pit of economic and industrial chaos. Trade unions leaders were guilty of militant savagery. Successive governments, Conservative and Labour, were guilty of appeasement.

At the same time – that is to say, during the 1970s – this report claims to provide statistical evidence which shows that most political parties represented the median voter.  A reality which has changed radically from 2009 onwards:

Present social movements, as “Occupy Wall Street” or the Spanish “Indignados”, claim that politicians work for an economic elite, the 1%, that drives the world economic policies. In this paper we show through econometric analysis that these movements are accurate: politicians in OECD countries maximize the happiness of the economic elite. In 2009 center-right parties maximized the happiness of the 100th-98th richest percentile and center-left parties the 100th-95th richest percentile. The situation has evolved from the seventies when politicians represented, approximately, the median voter.

I find these two judgements fascinating in their overlap.  If you think about it, they do suggest that a representative democracy which truly represents the ordinary voter inevitably leads to a process whereby ever-increasing and competing constituencies are progressively bought off, presumably via a pork-barrel politics of one kind or another.

This would appear not to be only morally wrong but also economically and socially disastrous.  So are we saying that an equilibrium of forces in democracy is bad for society?  The legislative log-jams you get in the US would seem to indicate, at an anecdotal level, that this might be the case.  But if the paper I quote from above correctly supports Kath’s assessment of the dynamics behind 1970s’ British politics – that is to say, an example of appeasement pure and simple – it’s a pretty poor road and destination ahead for the idea of trying to represent anyone.  In a more fractured and niche-like age, if we aim for a responsive environment, then we will only get pulled in separate directions – with the results Kath’s 1970s brought us; with the results that latterday American governance generates.  Meanwhile, if we aim for a more prescriptive environment, little more than an encroaching fascism of private largesse will emerge – a private largesse where powerful centres of control and understanding impose their will aggressively on the multitudes.  In much the same way as is happening right now.

Of course, if you’ve got this far in today’s post, you will I am sure be inclined to vigorously argue: “Balance, above all!”  A little bit of appeasement, a tad of real leadership – and most voters will be expected to feel relatively, even sufficiently, represented.

How to recover the idea of fairly representative democracy in two easy steps.

But with our report on the political dynamics of OECD countries to hand, the changes that have taken place since those appeasing 1970s would seem to indicate that there are other dynamics at play which make such balance a chimera.

So what if it is no longer possible to contemplate a democracy of either appeasement or leadership?  What – even – if the appeasement of the 1970s has actually led directly to fascist tendencies in modern Western democracy?

A society where money can’t buy you love – and doesn’t even attempt to.

Appeasement, leadership and representing voters: in the end, if you try and do it right, you’ll end up with a fudge-stamping Thatcher who’ll turn things upside down in favour of the richly wronged.

And in the end, you’ll have appeased, led and represented practically everyone but the voters.

Orphaned souls as they are in the hardly grand scheme of things.

Apr 172013
 

Barack Obama has already been here.  As long ago as 2006 too.  This link comes from a Guardian article on the fascinating subject of empathy which you can find here, with RSA video to boot.  The Obama excerpt first, from the former:

Cultivate empathy

…There’s a lot of talk in this country about the federal deficit. But I think we should talk more about our empathy deficit — the ability to put ourselves in someone else’s shoes; to see the world through those who are different from us — the child who’s hungry, the laid-off steelworker, the immigrant woman cleaning your dorm room.

As you go on in life, cultivating this quality of empathy will become harder, not easier. There’s no community service requirement in the real world; no one forcing you to care. You’ll be free to live in neighborhoods with people who are exactly like yourself, and send your kids to the same schools, and narrow your concerns to what’s going on in your own little circle.

Not only that — we live in a culture that discourages empathy. A culture that too often tells us our principal goal in life is to be rich, thin, young, famous, safe, and entertained. A culture where those in power too often encourage these selfish impulses.

They will tell you that the Americans who sleep in the streets and beg for food got there because they’re all lazy or weak of spirit. That the inner-city children who are trapped in dilapidated schools can’t learn and won’t learn and so we should just give up on them entirely.  That the innocent people being slaughtered and expelled from their homes half a world away are somebody else’s problem to take care of.

I hope you don’t listen to this. I hope you choose to broaden, and not contract, your ambit of concern. Not because you have an obligation to those who are less fortunate, although you do have that obligation. Not because you have a debt to all of those who helped you get to where you are, although you do have that debt.

It’s because you have an obligation to yourself. Because our individual salvation depends on collective salvation. And because it’s only when you hitch your wagon to something larger than yourself that you will realize your true potential — and become full-grown.

Meanwhile, Kath – over at Speaker’s Chair – kind of (though not exactly) puts in a good word for Margaret Thatcher: her thesis (I think) being that the fight Thatcher’s way of seeing engendered in the rest of us has, very after the event, left a better Liverpool – indeed a better Britain – behind it:

[...] But, grudgingly and gradually, I have allowed myself to consider another point of view.

At first, this thought was a deep secret, a sacrilege never to be uttered. But I believe it to be true: Margaret Thatcher helped make Britain a better place.

When Thatcher came to power, the country had already descended into a pit of economic and industrial chaos. Trade unions leaders were guilty of militant savagery. Successive governments, Conservative and Labour, were guilty of appeasement.

It didn’t take much to set things alight , and Thatcher created one almighty blaze.

Forest fires are pitiless things. They sweep away the bad and the good. But they foster new life, new beginnings.

I find it hard to forgive Margaret Thatcher’s indifference during the 1980s; the callous way she abandoned Liverpool and its people.

But the city is a different place now. It is a better, more optimistic place than the one I grew up in; better than had Labour clung to power in 1979.

Maybe Margaret Thatcher was our mighty fire.

Mind you, as a commenter to Kath’s article also points out, we can agree the country needed change without agreeing the change it needed was Thatcher.

If, in times of crisis, I was to ask for a transformative leader, a leader capable of catalysing huge movements, the kind of leader who might crystallise a moment in history and make it clear for the rest of us so we could understand it, and then productively work alongside it, then I would far rather the Obama approach of attempting to make good an empathy deficit one has with one’s fellow men, women and children than the declamatory gymnastics of Margaret Thatcher’s politics from that terribly cruel 1980s.  To argue that the 1970s had become a time of appeasement, and that as a result we needed a fire to rise from phoenix-like, is to gloss over just a little the terrible consequences of some people getting burned.  Especially when such a conflagration might not have been necessary in the first place, if only we’d had a bit of that empathy Senator Obama refers to.

Talking of which, we then have the comparisons drawn between the Iron Lady and our much-beloved Winston Churchill to deal with in this legacy.  I’m sure there are many.  I prefer, however, to focus on a  substantive difference.  Churchill fought a war to win a peace in desperate circumstances.  And in the event, once this goal was achieved, the country wished to move on and elect quite a different Prime Minister.

In Margaret Thatcher’s case, the relationship she had with the war fought under her premiership was far more complex.  And, even where not intentioned, it helped redeem her figure in the light of a country who would vote for her again as a result.

Thatcher inspired the people perhaps in much the same way as Churchill.  But the circumstances and consequences were very different. I’m not sure that Churchill could have possibly lacked empathy to the degree that Thatcher clearly did.  Those wartime speeches of his resonate of a vast understanding of the suffering of quite ordinary people.  I cannot remember a single thing that Thatcher said of the civil war she imposed on her own people which indicates even slightly her comprehension of the suffering whole communities were exposed to – or, even, what that suffering actually meant in human terms.

Thus it is that whilst both the above-mentioned were products of their time, even as Obama is a complicated product of his, the empathy deficit the latter has rightly highlighted was very much more part and parcel of Thatcher’s reign than anyone else’s.

She resolutely didn’t need to be liked.  She revelled in not being cared for.

That’s the difference between people who are able to put themselves in the shoes of others and those who find it impossible – in fact, quite unnecessary.

I prefer for those who are to lead my country to be the former and not the latter.

The latter, let it be said, may serve to win wars – but the peace they leave behind them is destruction squared.

Entropy is what we need now: that is to say, a calculable transformation.  The possibility of winning a peace without the weapons of war.

The possibility of finally moving on from everything that has come before.

Apr 162013
 

And so it’s quite right that they should be forcing us, obliging us, compelling us to show respect tomorrow.  That was how leadership worked in the 1980s.  By force, obligation and compulsion.

In death, in fact, as in life – that is how it must always be.

Fitting indeed.  Fitting and correct.


http://youtu.be/4LBLesi5IjM

And so this is how we are today.  Still living in the shadows of such leadership.  Still living in the shadows of governors who – even now – refuse to gain our respect; who manage, instead, to possess it by virtue of their positions.


http://youtu.be/mmJyyW2Zfug

But on Thursday, after all that, we will be firmly back in the 21st century – a century where leadership must return to being inspirational, never impositional.

Thus it is that they say property is theft.

And in this case, when the right to govern becomes the property of any woman or man, a theft of a kind is clearly consummated: that theft which involves removing our freedoms – in the name, allegedly, of giving us them back.

Not as we should wish or freely choose to have them but, instead, as they do believe is best.

Take heed, leaders from another age: respect in the 21st century is earned, no longer owned by anyone.


http://youtu.be/zHyb7ELmHbA

____________________

Update to this post, on 17th April 2013: Shuggy posted a carefully considered piece last night.  Worth a read, as is always the case over at his always thoughtful blog.

Apr 162013
 

Sue has posted an appeal to common sense today.  After much detailed argument in favour of her position on welfare reform, detail I urge you to read before we continue, she argues the following:

This week, William Hague assures us we can afford £10 million for a ceremonial funeral for Margaret Thatcher. Opinion polls show the public don’t want it, commentators from left and right are mystified, yet 2,200 people have been invited to a decadent funeral for a divisive PM who lies at the heart of many of the problems facing our society today. When I scanned the invitees yesterday, it felt surreal. A mish-mash of variety club has-beens, world leaders she shunned and elite aristocrats who shunned her when alive.

And concluding of the cuts that affect the people she most knows about, those with support needs at the cruellest end of our current government’s stick, she says this (the bold is mine):

[...] it’s that 11 million pounds. £11 million. In Westminster terms it would barely pay for the DWP’s paperclips. It is a drop in the ocean of a welfare budget spanning 10s of billions. It only applied to a few thousand of the most disabled children in society (children just like Ivan Cameron, had he lived into adulthood.) But Lord Freud, failed investment banker and Minister for Welfare Reform, insisted that we could “no longer afford it” We could no longer afford to allow such profoundly disabled children lives of dignity and independence. No more security. No relief for worried families that they would be safe once they were gone. A cross-party consensus of decades, stripped away by ministers who didn’t even know what they were doing.

As she also rightly points out (again, the bold is mine):

Many like me, were fighting the welfare reform bill way back in 2011. We know every last detail, every twist and turn, every sweeping change and every technical detail. [...]

In those three telling paragraphs we have the whole story of this government since May 2010.  A government we should be attacking not just on its policy record, but on its massive inability to involve the people who best know.  Any modern corporation would say, at least from an HR and comms point-of-view, that those best placed to engineer real change in our processes are those most involved with the implications of each and every one of them: that is to say, the personnel who carry out the tasks and the end-users who are our reason for being.  Properly-implemented continuous-improvement philosophies everywhere start with those most affected – not end up with them when everything’s been decided.  And if we need to begin to attack this government of the inept on anything new, then it must be on their manifest incompetence to follow the mechanisms, values and beliefs their better corporate sponsors already follow in their own businesses.

What we have in this government isn’t successful corporates writ large.  What we have in this government is traditional old English graft, grafted slyly – as it were – onto a sleek and supposedly business-focussed series of ever-increasing lies.

Sue and her people, all of us without exception, me in my invisible disabilities, others with their all-too-overpowering, are surely resources to be used for a wider good: people, finite and perishable, short-term in the grand scheme of things – but terribly terribly clever and knowledgeable about the details which, when ignored, are what really metamorphose bright ideas into grief-stricken – even devilish – realities.

If only the government could see its people as this resource I speak of: a resource for a broader understanding of how to improve our society.

Instead, all it sees is an enemy to be vanquished – in an awful and pitiless cloud of no alternatives.

And I wonder where I’ve heard that mantra before.

A religious concept indeed.  For where there is no alternative contemplated or effectively permitted, we are dictatorship enshrined.

Apr 152013
 

The advice they always give is play the ball, not the man.  Or, in this case, the woman.  But, in this case, she herself almost gleefully became the ball itself.  She cared little for avoiding the rough and tumble of brutally facing down opponents.  This video, for example, lays it out all too clearly for those who would care to emulate her style.  Be warned if you don’t like her: her ability to perform in the House of Commons was up there with the best – perhaps the very best.


http://youtu.be/okHGCz6xxiw

This, meanwhile, shows what the other side thought of her.


http://youtu.be/txBZ8cH1eVc

Or, perhaps, nihilism was what we all finally came down to.


http://youtu.be/3TFx9u1t1LY

To be honest, I started out writing this post with the express intention of proving to you that we lived in a country where soft power – that very English sense of fair play – ruled our hearts.  But in the light of the three evermore savage videos above, I do wonder if that’s really the case.

Thatcherism in three acts perhaps, laid bare for all to see?  For in reality, Thatcherism’s abiding quality was not in its falsely-drummed-up expectations of a free market Nirvana it not only never delivered but, perhaps, never intended to deliver.  No.  With the evidence contained in these three short videos, we can see that what she provided us all with was a naked reflection of the cruelty that lies beneath our very English inability to give proper vent to our opinions.

We do not essentially believe in fair play.  We believe in dominating and ruling others.  Our history says this; our Union Flag demonstrates this; our instincts to kowtow to authority prove this.  Thatcherism as hard power in a country where soft power generally rules our hearts, we find ourselves suggesting?  In reality, soft power never ruled our hearts.

White hunter, black heart.  That’s what being an Englander actually means.  Even down to the racist subtext such a metaphor employs.

Thatcherism’s achievement wasn’t economic; wasn’t political; wasn’t even social.  It was personal – as personal as you could possibly get.  It made saying what you thought, simply because it was what you thought, right, clever, witty and – above all – possible.  As long as, of course, you knew how to top the opposition.

Thatcherism made point-scoring the point of political debate.  She didn’t invent it, but she did exemplify, enshrine and make sacred its value.  And ever since she’s died, we’ve allowed ourselves to be sucked up in her dynamics.  Her very personal “-ism” reaches massively beyond the grave, precisely because she herself played the man instead of the ball.

Which is what we’ve spent the last week doing.  Not because we’re all bad envious lefties but – rather – because, at a human level, we’re all far more like her than we’d ever care to admit.

No escape, folks.  Even as the atheist defines themselves in terms of what they are not, so we are condemned to understand ourselves in our rejection of what we despise.

Our own prejudices.

Our own desires.

Our own wish to overthrow.

It doesn’t ennoble us, this hatred; this inability to disentangle.  But it does make it easier for us to understand what the future mustn’t be.

I am Thatcher and because of this, I am the least well-placed generation to enable a recovery of our better selves.

This week I will be voting to nominate up to three candidates to go forward in the selection process my local Constituency Labour Party is holding to choose a future parliamentary candidate for Chester.  All the candidates I have spoken to or read about are all substantially younger than I am.  In times of severe crisis, in times of institutional fracture, this is as it must be.  The only solution to the vagaries, infighting, battles and despair of the aged – the kind of internecine conflict the above three videos make all too manifest – is a transcendental renovation from the direction of the young of all our ways of seeing and doing politics.

I am Thatcher but I do not fear the future because I know the young will one day be in charge.  And in that despair which comes of failure, that despair I mention above, there is always a sense of hope and excitement that things may one day change.

As someone wisely said, life would be unbearable if it weren’t so unpredictable.

And that, my dear friends, is the crossroads at which we stand right now.

Apr 142013
 

The BBC's Missing Link

The BBC still hasn’t learned, has it?  So creepily, sadly, ridiculously tame.  So childishly, foolishly, censoriously weak.  At the time I am writing this post, the Official Radio 1 Top 40 Chart shows “Ding Dong! The Witch Is Dead”, in the Judy Garland version, at number 2 in the list.  All well and good.  Some might be inclined to question whether the song didn’t deserve the top spot, but in an industry where veracity of stats is clearly a priority, we’re hardly going to go out there with flailingly wild accusations that this is all a fix.

Even if it were, how would you go ahead and prove it?

However, if you care to dawdle along and check it out for yourself (this link, this week, takes you to the chart as it stands today), you’ll be able to check out a definite piece of intentional censorship by the aforementioned Beeb: a piece of censorship which understands all too well the online environment with which the target market of the chart is all too familiar.  As you can see, the top 3 songs all have their titles highlighted in blue.  This is a common colour to show a clickable link.  The “Ding Dong” song is slightly different in style, however, missing as you can see the bold on its name.  And the truth is, at least when I took the screenshot, the supposedly clickable link most evidently is not; there is no way of listening to an excerpt of the song whereas the others you will see have a “play” button next to them on the left; and no more information is available on the right of the screen.

This is online censorship of the highest order.  This really did have to be authorised and sanctioned.  There must exist, right now, behind the scenes, emails between those who did the coding and those who required that certain links should not be added.

I feel a Freedom of Information request coming over me.  Anyone care to do the due diligence?