May 012012
 

As the Commons Culture, Media and Sport Select Committee publishes a damning report today, Tom Watson provides a measured, contained and – as far as I can see – objective assessment of what’s really gone on over the past couple of years, whilst Parliament has tried to get to the bottom of the Murdoch phone-hacking case.  I agree with what, as an interested observer, I have read, heard and been able to cross-reference with respect to the case; with respect to the rest, I am happy to take his word for it.

Even so, I also find myself agreeing with Louise Mensch, one of the Tory Party members of the Committee, who found herself unable to vote for part of the report’s conclusions; in particular with respect to the following assertion: that Mr Rupert Murdoch was unfit to run a major international company.  As the BBC inform us:

A Conservative member of the Commons Culture, Media and Sport Select Committee said its phone-hacking report would lose credibility for its line over Rupert Murdoch being unfit to run an international company.

Louise Mensch said no MPs from her party could support the report – looking into allegations around the former News of the World newspaper – which would now be seen as “partisan”.

She’s absolutely right about the partisan nature of the vote, of course: the fact that – after all the sewage which has flowed under the tumbling media bridge – four Tory MPs can still band together along party lines and, by withholding their condemnation, let it be understood that the owners of News International have demonstrated all the tenets of good capitalism, is just about as revealing as any such vote ever could become.

When David Cameron saw nothing improper in Mr Hunt’s behaviours, he was implicitly – and simply – recognising that under similar circumstances he would have been happy to do exactly the same.

Louise Mensch and her Conservative colleagues now find themselves in precisely the same place.

I do hope they know what they’re doing and why.

In the very near future, I think they’re jolly well going to need to.

Feb 282012
 

I’d be inclined to think we should look a gift horse in the mouth – at least today.

It started off this morning with a story which appeared absolutely incredible.  Apparently, the Metropolitan Police is in the habit of lending its older horses to those who might be able to keep them.  In this case, Rebekah Brooks of News International fame.  As Tom Watson tweeted:

At least the horse’s head didn’t end up in my bed! http://t.co/UfwsVlmY Unbelievable. Quite unbelievable.

But later on, the suspicion arises that the timing of this juicy but relatively trivial piece of news has just been one massive exercise in smoke and mirrors.  The really big news has come from a quite different quarter – the Leveson inquiry and the declarations of a certain WPC.  The declarations first:

Do read para 40 of police officer Jacqui Hames’s #Leveson statement on surveillance:

“The News of the World has never supplied a coherent explanation for why we were placed under surveillance. Ill 2003, David, together with Dick Fedorcio and Colnmander Andre Baker, met Rebekah Brooks to discuss the matter.

“She repeated the unconvincing explanation that the News of the World believed we were having an affair. She agreed to iook into Alex Marunchak’s associations with Rees and Fillery but to my knowledge nothing further was ever said about the subject, indeed Mr Marunchak was subsequently promoted.

“I believe that the real reason for the News of the World placing us under surveillance was that suspects in the Daniel Morgan murder inquiry were using their association with a powerful and well-resourced newspaper to try to intimidate us and so attempt to subvert the investigation.”

As Jon Snow commented on his Twitter feed this afternoon:

Devatstating testimony from former WPC Jackie Haymes to Leveson: NOW subversion of a murder investigation? http://t.co/UjTxhaeM

Which brings me to my final piece of comment picked up from the ether:

#Leveson: Police collusion with NOTW to subvert murder inquiry. Met: HORSE! HORSE HORSE HORSE, LOOK AT THE HORSE! Murdoch: *silence*

If the above sequence of events is really how it has happened, and underlying it all is really a case of smoke and mirrors as already described, then it’s not just an old story about the alleged subversion of a murder inquiry but an absolutely hot potato of current news management.

By the police.

By certain parts of the media.

By the Lord only knows who else.

Feb 012012
 

This story – whilst an old one from May 2008 – came my way via my favourite tweeting gasman, Gary Robinson, on Twitter this morning:

Two pest controllers were called to coax a 4ft (1.2m) orange snake into a bag after it was found by a tenant in her house boiler.

When Lee Marshall, 40, spoke to an “almost hysterical” young woman from Southsea, Portsmouth, claiming she had seen a snake he thought she was joking.

But he and a colleague discovered the creature slithering inside a boiler.

Coincidentally – and also via Twitter, but this time via my favourite MP, Tom Watson – we get a report from the Independent, as well as a related .pdf file held on Parliament’s web servers, about the subject of Rupert Murdoch’s News International phone-hacking scandal.  In the incident under question, the Independent seems to imply a key email might have been held back from shareholders last year in order to ensure control would not be lost of BSkyB.  This, then, is what the Independent has to say of the very same year as our snake in the gas story – but this time a month later in June 2008:

A key email which cast significant doubt on James Murdoch’s repeated assertions that he was never told about the true extent of phone hacking at the News of the World was kept from public disclosure last year while the media heir faced a shareholder revolt over his leadership of BSkyB.

And this:

Had the email sent by Mr Myler in June 2008, which talked of a “nightmare scenario” of further phone hacking claimants, been made public around the time of its discovery by a “reviewer” in a crate of material recovered from the offices of the closed NOTW it is likely to have significantly heightened the pressure on Mr Murdoch.

Chris Bryant, the Labour MP and phone hacking victim who attended the AGM, said: “Had this information been available at the time of the AGM, I am sure more shareholders would have said ‘sorry James Murdoch but thank you very much and goodbye’.”

Meanwhile, what we presume is the full sad and sorry behind-the-scenes story – what apparently caused this key email to be “lost in review” – is contained in this recent letter (.pdf file) to the Parliamentary Committee investigating the hacking scandal.  Well worth your time.

Just a couple of final observations to wrap up. 

People get paid to not do their job like this, you know.  Or, on the other hand, to do it all too well.

Though I’m sure neither of the above has happened in this particular case.

When one can choose between rank conspiracy and rank incompetence, 99 percent of what happens in this world is due to rank incompetence.

Isn’t it?

Jan 262012
 

Two examples of redemption tonight.  There’s not enough of it about.  We need more. 

Firstly, the Twitter storm-in-a-teacup that today has been the hashtag #savetheintern.  The full story can be found here at Tom Watson’s blog.  This is the bit I most like about the whole matter:

8. The intern has not been sacked nor was she ever going to be. She’s young. We all make mistakes.

This is true.  And needs to be said, far more often.  Without, that is, the desire to redeem being worn too brightly on one’s sleeve.  A normal humane instinct to treat people as people.  Instead of cattle to be disposed of all too hurriedly.

Meanwhile, another case where redemption seems to be an unspoken driver is the philanthropic Bill Gates of today.  Firstly, from the BBC, this quote yesterday:

“If I hadn’t given my money away, I would now have more money than anyone else on the planet,” he said casually.

And it’s the giving away that makes him so interesting.

But it’s not quite true.  What really makes Gates interesting is that he can publish letters like this – thoughtful, considered, accurate, needed – at the same time as maintaining the monopolistic empire that is Microsoft’s Office and Windows operating system software

That is to say, it is true that we must doff our virtual caps in admiration when the BBC points out that:

His philanthropy is on an epic scale. He is seriously planning to eradicate diseases in his lifetime that have plagued humanity for thousands of years.

The Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation has already given $26bn (£17bn) to fund health, development and education projects.

Even the biggest cynic would have to be impressed by this massive engine of generosity, with Bill Gates working full time on donating the income from an endowment worth $33.5bn (£21.5bn).

But we must also remember that the money he so laudably donates was often arrived at in a less than seemly way; and perhaps, in some parts of the globe, continues to be questionably obtained to this day.

So it is that redemption is never simple – even as, in its messy and incomplete manner, it must be a better way than no kindness at all.

Nov 102011
 

Codes of conduct in large organisations help ensure people act in similar ways.  Whether this is good, long-term, for both the creative and mental health of our societies is a different matter.  But there we are: codes of conduct do – and probably must – exist.

Here’s an interesting excerpt from the piece I’ve linked to above on the subject:

In 1991, the U.S. Sentencing Commission issued the Federal Sentencing Guidelines for Organizations (FS GO), outlining the elements of an effective ethics and compliance program. As one component of this, the FS GO recognized that simply having a code was not enough. In this view, the “3P” approach – in which you “Print a code of conduct, Post it on the wall and Pray people actually read it”3 – simply did not form the basis for an effective program. As a result, the FS GO required code education for employees and other mechanisms for communicating and reinforcing organizational values.

In 2002, the Sarbanes-Oxley Act further bolstered the importance of codes of conduct by requiring public companies to have a code of conduct for top executives (and, if they didn’t have one, to explain why). Then in 2003, both the New York Stock Exchange and the Nasdaq required listed companies to adopt and disclose a “code of business conduct and ethics” that applies to all employees and directors. Together with these regulatory developments, having a code became practically a mandate for public companies.

The most recent step in the evolution of codes of conduct occurred in 2004 with the Revised Federal Sentencing Guidelines, which stipulated that companies must promote an organizational culture that encourages ethical conduct and commitment to compliance with the law. The impact of this change in the FS GO is that it effectively elevates a company’s code of conduct into becoming an integral part of its culture, not just a side note to employee education and communication.

The real question, of course, is what people do about these codes of conduct – and, indeed, which ones in reality are the ones which come out on top.  For whilst the job description generally indicates what we must do, the glue which holds it together often tells us far more about what is really expected.  There are many different kinds of codes of conduct out there: just because it’s written down and even drilled into you doesn’t mean that face-to-face contact on the day-to-day job won’t win you over to other ways of seeing and doing.

This, for example, from today’s second grilling of James Murdoch by Tom Watson on the subject of News International’s behaviours over the past decade or so.


http://youtu.be/RizWCBMfETk

Watson uses the Italian word “omertà” to describe the activities and environment he alleges circumscribe the behaviours in question.  Wikipedia tells us the following in relation to this term:

Omertà[1] (Italian pronunciation: [ɔmɛrˈta]) is a popular attitude and code of honor and a common definition is the “code of silence”. It is common in areas of southern Italy, such as Sicily, Apulia, Calabria, and Campania, where criminal organizations defined as Mafia such as the Cosa Nostra, ‘Ndrangheta, Sacra Corona Unita, and Camorra are strong. It also exists to a lesser extent in certain Italian-American neighbourhoods where the Italian-American Mafia has influence and other Italian ethnic enclaves in countries where there is the presence of Italian organized crime (i.e. Germany, Canada, Australia).[citation needed]

Omertà implies “the categorical prohibition of cooperation with state authorities or reliance on its services, even when one has been victim of a crime.”[2] Even if somebody is convicted of a crime he has not committed, he is supposed to serve the sentence without giving the police any information about the real criminal, even if that criminal has nothing to do with the Mafia himself. Within Mafia culture, breaking omertà is punishable by death.[2]

The code was adopted by Sicilians long before the emergence of Cosa Nostra (some observers date it to the 16th century as a way of opposing Spanish rule).[3] It is also deeply rooted in rural Crete, Greece.[4]

This, then, is clearly nothing more nor less than a code of conduct amongst members of a powerful organisation – a code which, in fact, makes such an organisation even more powerful than it might be.

So where does the essential difference lie between the above and – for example – a contractual relationship (of which there are many these days, in both the public and private sectors) which forbids a worker or employee from talking to, say, the press about anything company- or – indeed – societally-related?

Of course, in such circumstances, keeping quiet does not extend to us being asked to break the law – or, at least, I would hope not.  On the other hand, the way big companies are built these days – designed as they are to make it impossible for almost anyone to have a full overview of their processes and procedures in order to future-proof them against damaging staff turnover in times of extreme competition – means it is only out of the small gobbets of knowledge hundreds of thousands may separately possess that full stories may ever be known.

Perhaps in such structures, then, we have a case of a systemically fashioned “omertà”: not a code of silence which requires workforces to more or less voluntarily shut up but, rather, an infrastructure of Chinese walls generated by the evermore piecemeal approach to procedures and processes which makes it literally impossible for any ordinary worker these days to tell the truth as reality might honestly recognise it.

So this isn’t a code of silence as such – but its impact on the ability of anyone to tell the whole truth is just as effective as anything the Mafia could’ve come up with.

My conclusion?

Tom, you were sort of right when you described this as a mafia-like organisation.  But, actually, you didn’t go far enough.  This is far worse.

Oct 142011
 

I was rather critical, the other day, when Tom Watson sent his first internal Labour Party email.  The same triple-linked mantra asking for money; the unashamed taking-advantage-of his integrity and political standing; the standardised and templated pursuit of pressing those number-crunched buttons; it all seemed so unadventurous for a man who clearly understands much more about the virtual world than the vast majority of MPs these days.

Shortly afterwards, guilt crept in and I published a post about denial and repentance.  The question I asked was why I didn’t feel sufficiently motivated to contribute a measly £5 to the cash-strapped coffers of the Labour Party – especially in the light of the other spending I engage in, and which I detailed in this latter piece.

I did, in fact, go so far as to suggest that maybe, just maybe, I was plain wrong in my response.

Well.  “Rectificar es de sabios” – as the Spanish quite sensibly proclaim.  In other words, the wise will correct themselves.  And so Tom rapidly did.  Here’s the email he sent out yesterday.

Dear Miljenko,

Thanks for making the first week as your campaign co-ordinator so memorable. We’ve raised over £8,500. As promised, the money has been used to design and print our “jobs and growth” campaign leaflets.

Labour HQ is buzzing with excitement. Our deputy leader Harriet Harman is thrilled. So, thanks.


We are so strapped for cash I can honestly say to you that these leaflets would not have been printed without your support. In fact, I’m so worried about campaign funding that I’m leaving the big red “donate” button at the bottom of this email just in case you feel you can give a little more.

I took the night off to see The Specials play in Wolverhampton yesterday. It was an awesome gig. I can’t quite believe it’s 30 years since they released “Ghost Town” – the track that defined an era. Thatcher’s 1981 Budget was savage. Unemployment rocketed, growth stalled and huge chunks of our manufacturing base were destroyed.

And as the band opened up their gig with a big picture of Margaret Thatcher as a backdrop I thought, these Tories haven’t learnt a thing. David Cameron and George Osborne? They’re out of touch.

Families are struggling with higher food, gas and petrol prices. They’re worried about jobs and the kind of future their kids are going to have. It’s almost as if Cameron and Osborne haven’t noticed.

That’s why we’re setting out a clear five-point plan for jobs and growth – to help families and support small businesses

And that’s why this campaign – our fightback – is so vital. We haven’t got time to waste. We have to convince the British people that it doesn’t have to be like this. There is a better way. So once again, thanks for being part of it. I’m really looking forward to working with you.

Best wishes,

Tom

PS Our new General Secretary, Iain, and Harriet have asked me to take a look at the kind of emails we send out. Over the coming weeks we’re going to be testing a few new ideas and possibly asking you to fill out a survey. This will help us improve the way we work with members and supporters. I don’t want to wait though. If you have any concerns or ideas about frequency, tone and content of party emails, please get in touch with me at tom@labour.org.uk or at @tom_watson on Twitter.

Donate
To unsubscribe, please click here. Privacy: we won’t pass on your email address to anyone else. See http://www.labour.org.uk/privacy Reproduced from an email sent by the Labour Party, promoted by and on behalf of the Labour Party at 39 Victoria Street, London SW1H 0HA.

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Much better – and much more personal – than the previous one received.  Still a little bit breathlessly hierarchical in its religious enumeration of how everyone at the top felt – still rather the wrong side of the cusp between 20th century and 21st century.  But far better than the previous hundreds of emails I have received to date.

Tom asks for ideas on how to improve the Party’s communications, their tone and content.  Here’s one, that you might wish to consider.  How about we learn from the charities and – instead of asking for money to print knocking-copy leaflets (some of us may consider this a case of money down the drain – and not be inclined to ever donate) – send out the message that £5 will, for example, buy the infrastructure to enable some kind of volunteer support services in a Labour-held region for unemployed or disabled people?

That is to say, why don’t we change our strategy of protest – from reactively responding to every stupidity of this Coalition (of which there have been many – and of which there will be very many more) to proactively initiating grassroots projects all over the country?  If the Big Society is indeed finally being put to bed – as news reports this week suggest might be going to happen – and the charities will receive even less resource from the government than was going to be the case, then we need to show that – on the ground and with the money we as a political party receive from our members and supporters – we are able to maximise outputs and outcomes in favour of the people of this country.

Not by playing tit-for-tat politics – but, rather, by doing something useful with our limited income.

Let us have that big “Donate” button which Tom mentions, by all means.  But let us tie it to meaningful democratic process – the kind of thing that will attract the sensitively aggrieved as well as the politically motivated.

What say you?  Any thoughts?

Oct 102011
 

This story reminded me of this story.  I suppose my previous post was churlish too.

But I am a member of the Labour Party and the Fabians, I do pay my monthly dues – and I suppose I might feel I have a right to wonder why my money isn’t being spent more imaginatively.

However …

Just been cogitating a breakdown of my annual outgoings on all sorts of stuff.  And year on year, it looks like:

  1. energy comes to about £1100; 
  2. the landline (which includes Internet) and water come to around £400 each; 
  3. food (quite appropriately) takes the biscuit (I daren’t even go there – I just never realised how much we spend on this); 
  4. my mobile phone costs me more than £250;
  5. my Kindle spend is probably reaching £170 (wow!  Now that one shot up without me noticing too much); 

Whilst my Labour Party subs probably don’t top £36.

And earlier in the day, I denied Tom Watson a measly £5 …

So then.  There is clearly an important issue to hand.  Why am I prepared (I resist the word “happy”) to pay hundreds of pounds for, say, mobile phone and Internet-related products – when a £5 donation to a good cause seems beyond me?  What is it about all the other spending above which adds sufficient value to encourage me to open my wallet – where the Labour Party doesn’t convince?  What, essentially, is the Party doing wrong in its drive to generate a wider base of donors?

Was it the fact that I felt someone at HQ had chosen to generate a cheap message – trading shamelessly on Tom Watson’s integrity and political kudos – with the intention of earning a few easy quid for the short-term coffers?  Was it the fact that when you aim to broaden your base of donors you need to do much more than repeat the three-link mantra of a hundred previous emails?  Or was it the fact that Amazon, Carphone Warehouse, Tesco and the utility companies all have me, in their different ways, by los cojones (that is to say, exactly where they want me) – where the Labour Party is at a disadvantage in such a dynamic?

Or maybe it is, in fact, for a completely different reason. 

Maybe it’s actually because I’m wrong.

Oct 102011
 

Well.  It did start out by saying “Dear Miljenko” and it was titled “I’m new.  I need your help.”

Oh.  I see.  Big flap over.  It was actually one of those templated emails to thousands of Party faithful, where – a little like St Peter renouncing Jesus three times before cock crow – we are given three opportunities to click on a not very subtle link in order that we might donate a small amount of money to the ever-decreasing Party coffers.

And I guess I must have felt just like St Peter felt after his unhappy deeds, as I resisted thrice the temptation to click whilst reading the blessed message from our blessed new Campaign Coordinator.

For the disappointment at the 20th century nature of the appeal left me miserable for at least an hour or two.

I slept it off.

So there I was, thinking he was going to do something really grassroots-ish and 21st century-like

Oh well.

Here’s the link, just in case you’re feeling generous.  Mind you, it’s almost certainly got my personal identity codified somewhere amongst that awfully long line of information.  If you all contribute a fiver, and it is indeed on my behalf, that’ll at least get me some brownie points on some database or another.

Surely we can do much better than this.

Can’t we?

Oct 082011
 

Whilst the universe is chaos unbound – and the primary job of scientists is to provide us with the sensation that this is not true – our daily lives are generally untouched by the high-flown imaginings of such clever people.  So who do we turn to instead for that comfort and succour we so yearn after?  Why, journalists – of course!

Journalists are to our modern society what the oral narrators were to the ancients.  Their main responsibility does not lie in telling the truth (though this they may do) but, rather, in making the world a place we feel we can survive.  They explain events by tying together personages into what are essentially random actions – and thus, by so doing, they give us the impression there is an underlying pattern.  I have long realised, ever since at uni I was taught to compare the structure behind the layout of the Sun newspaper to the leitmotifs of the Bible, how – since time immemorial – newspapers, as well as the media more generally, have served to provide us with a sense of security about our sadly accurate perceptions of the world out there.

We know it’s totally random – but we need someone to sustainably say it isn’t.  Which is why content industries of all shapes and sizes always flourish – whatever the wider economic circumstances.  They, like the oral narrators of old, provide shape to our shapeless voids.  And that is truly no mean feat in a world where chance can afflict us at any moment.

Meanwhile, in politics, in a similarly unconvincing way, the reshuffle of overarching responsibilities allows someone at the top – generally a prime minister or party leader of some sort – to give the impression they’re flexing real muscles; even as the reality may be something quite different.  I really can’t get too worked up about reshuffles of any kind, in fact – whether governmental or party political, whether of my own side’s or the opposition’s.  And that others find them significant shows how important soap-opera dynamics are to our daily existences.

It’s interesting, in fact, how some will often criticise those at the poorer end of the social spectrum for following quite religiously the ins and outs of poorly-made and endlessly long-running TV series – even as the wealthier sorts in society open their morning broadsheets and unquestioningly absorb the structuring comforts of the political players and actors which they, quite differently, deem important to follow.

For who is to judge whether the stupidities of political action and reaction are any more weighty – in that absolute grand scheme of things – than the writings of fill-the-schedules-cheaply TV series?

And yet … and yet …

One piece of news which brightened my day, after Labour’s recent reshuffle of Shadow Cabinet responsibilities, is this nugget of gold: Tom Watson will be Campaign Coordinator.  As the Birmingham Post puts it:

His role now will be to shake up Labour’s campaigns across the country, and to improve the way it uses the Internet to communicate with voters.

All of us, you see, at some time or another, find ourselves at the mercy of that need I described earlier for structure.

This, then, is my need, as a frequent writer of political and technological events – manifesting and showing itself up for the world to plainly see.  My need is for a narrator of reality who decides never to give up on their version – however hard this may prove.  Which is where we were some months ago in the case I am about to remind us of – and where we will be over the next two or three years in the battle of political wits between the Tories and Labour.

Watson has shown himself able to follow – over a long and painful decade – the worst kind of story-telling antics via which the News International phone-hacking saga has been allowed to unfold.  So it does occur to me that any man capable of stopping such a narrative juggernaut in its tracks might just have a real chance of retelling Labour’s story to the voters.

And if someone with his synthetic ability ultimately finds himself unable to pull together the strands in a way that convinces – that is to say, provide us with that sense of narrative security we all need to survive this churlish universe – then, perhaps, in fact, no one out there will be able to either.

In which case, we might as well all go back to Corrie, Jeremy Kyle and E=mc2.

No pressure, then, Tom.

Just all our shared futures on your shoulders.

Aug 162011
 

I studied a brilliant film at university called “Letter from an Unknown Woman”.  And its director, Max Ophuls, will forever remain one of my all-time favourites.

Meanwhile, the briefest of synopses at the IMDb website indicates the following:

A pianist about to flee from a duel receives a letter from a woman he cannot remember whom may hold the key to his downfall.

I am reminded of this film, for some peculiar reason, in relation to a slightly different matter.  To my unreasonable delight, in amongst the awful fireworks of the recent riots in England (for I still haven’t read anywhere a satisfactory explanation as to why they’ve only happened in England), it would appear today that the News International phone-hacking scandal has been reignited by the release into the public domain of this letter.  Not exactly a letter from an unknown woman then – as it was in fact written by Clive Goodman.  But, in the light of recent events at News International, including the resignation of its former CEO, Rebekah Brooks, its publication today couldn’t half be construed as an indirect missive to a not entirely unknown lady.  As well as a number of prominent gentlemen out there.

And if the implications of Goodman’s letter are as the Guardian describes them, I do wonder how these clever and powerful people could have believed with such impunity that telling incomplete truths was a secure and politically intelligent way forward when dealing with parliamentary committees of the kind we have here.  Unless, of course, their whole and daily ecosystem was made out of the kind of slippery relationship with reality that not only eloquence but also wealth and massive yes-people deference bring to one’s ability to maintain a sense of proportion.

On Twitter, this affair is rightly tagged #hackgate – precisely because the people involved should have remembered what happened to Nixon.  It wasn’t in the evil deeds that his people committed where his ultimate downfall lay.  Rather, it was in the arrogance of believing that he was beyond the reach of any jurisdiction because of the power he had acquired prior to and after the events in question.

When you commit indiscretions, do not get immediately caught and then learn to live with their permanent reality is – exactly – when you acquire a curious patina of Teflon-like impermeability to that sense of proportion I mention above.  If the corporation can be described as a kind of sociopathic entity – not because of its people as such (many of whom are well-minded to act honestly) but, instead, because of its ultimate and exclusive mission to increase shareholder value to the exclusion of everything else – is it at all surprising that some of its top-flight leaders may also acquire disagreeably disconcerting qualities which separate them so dramatically from ordinary people far down below?

And given that only very occasionally do they need to step outside their bubbles of yes-people deference, is it also at all surprising that when they do they get it so dramatically wrong?

What we saw in July, when Rupert and James Murdoch apparently told incomplete truths to a parliamentary committee, was two powerful gentlemen who expected the same treatment from the representatives of the people as they get in those daily ecosystems I referred to earlier.  It’s not that they expected to get away with telling porkies.  It’s, rather, that they didn’t expect for their authority to be questioned once laid down.

The psychology of power laid bare – that is what we are witnessing now.  And it’s really not a pretty sight.

Jul 112011
 

The latest revelations on the News International nightmare simply indicate that at the top of this media pyramid is a dictator in grave need of being toppled.  Either he actively institutionalised criminality – or, through neglect and under his watch, he allowed it to become institutionalised.

During Blair’s reign, it was Saddam who fell.  In Cameron’s, it could well be Murdoch.  But not because of the authorities, not because of the police, not because of the checks and balances of the state.

Rather, because of MPs like Tom Watson and Chris Bryant, of newspapers like the Guardian with the financial resources and morality to pursue the story – and the Fifth Estaters amongst us who use Twitter, Facebook and blogging tools, all of which have allowed us to provide the good traditional journalism that can still be found out there with the people’s wings it required to flourish.

As Anthony Painter recently tweeted:

The fatal misjudgment that News Corp has made is that it’s always had a parliamentary majority behind it. This time it hasn’t. #phonehacking

The corollary is complete.  News International was a de facto dictatorship, operating within the British body politic.  And no politician of real import in recent times has cared to even attempt to defeat this dictatorship.

Each generation needs its villains.  Blair had his opportunity to choose – and chose Iraq instead of Murdoch.  Cameron had his opportunity to choose – and chose the British people instead of Murdoch.  As I pointed out in August last year: 

In a democracy, there are two ways to proceed before your true aims are rumbled.  The first is to attempt to continually butter the population up – this was Blair and New Labour’s approach for many years.  The second is to demoralise and divide all probable opposition prior to the event with acts such as Cameron’s Coalition are carrying out.  Better than demoralise and divide, however, is the strategy of cutting supply lines and taking apart little by little regions of common association.

This is also something that the Coalition will find it hard not to do.

The cuts that are being effected may have an ideological bent designed to socially engineer us back into the Darwinian dark ages of 19th century capitalism, and they may also perpetuate and deepen a recession we were on the point of emerging from, but, principally, their main purpose – if we are to accept my tentative thesis – is to lay the ground for a far more profound set of changes further down the line: changes which will end up being imposed on a thoroughly frightened and unhappy set of atomised and splintered individuals, looking to the support that democratic socialism promised them even as the tactics I have described serve to slowly but permanently disintegrate them from their fellow men and women – as well as lead them, once more, as so many sad times in the past, to believe that dog-eat-dog philosophies are humankind’s inevitable fate.

And yet now the British people have chosen Murdoch – above all – as their target of choice.  Now the British people have settled on the dictatorship they truly wish to desert.

So where does that leave Cameron and his blessedly fashioned neo-conservative project – made, as it is, to the measure of Murdoch’s ideologies; and as foreign to our shores as anything of such evil intent could ever be?  Who will be left untarnished enough to be able to provide the moral and political support to such a futile and suddenly hollow device?

For this is the question that surely occurs to us all: if Rupert Murdoch’s empire is no longer fit and proper to run the British press and media, what does that say of David Cameron himself?

Nov 202010
 

Whilst Tom Watson feels that reaction to Ed Vaizey’s recent speech on net neutrality has encouraged the minister to recalibrate, I am personally unwilling to rely on government intentions thus expressed to assure the future of an open Internet.  Vaizey describes the current situation in the following way:

While many interpreted those remarks as opening a new door that ISPs had been pushing at for years, in fact Mr Vaizey says he is striving to preserve the open, unregulated internet that has produced so much innovation. “I don’t accept the premise that I am not protecting the internet from enormous commercial concerns,” he said. “I’m all in favour of innovation providing it’s not detrimental to consumers. People are already entitled to choose the speed of their connection, but we’re not saying one ISP should be able to prioritise one provider’s content over another and I don’t support the commercial decision to downgrade a rivals site.” 

He also promises us that:

[...] “My first and overriding priority is an open internet where consumers have access to all legal content,” he said. “Should the internet develop in a way that was detrimental to consumer interests we would seek to intervene.” He said that the powers of communications regulator Ofcom and those that will come into force thanks to a 2011 EU directive would be sufficient to prevent anti-competitive behaviour. “I never used the words fast-lane,” he said.

The truth of the matter is, however, that it would surely be unwise for us to deposit our freedoms in the hands of individual ministers – or, indeed, for that matter, in a decapitated House of Commons.  And rather than lukewarm recalibration, as per Tom’s original tweet, under the circumstances I think I’d be looking more for abject capitulation.

No minister, however well-meaning and conciliatory, has the right to be well-meaning and conciliatory about such freedoms.  They do, instead, have the obligation to be spot-on.  For these are our freedoms we’re talking about to innovate and communicate. 

Essentially what defines a human being in all his or her glory.

Not the stuff of recalibration.

Sep 092010
 

I am enormously proud of Tom Watson for showing us he cares enough about freedom and knows enough about oppression to make a speech as heartfelt and intelligent as this one.

Oppression takes many forms but two minutes of bravery are all we need  to change a world.  And in this case, what Watson has dared to voice on all our behalf may mean it can now change more than we ever imagined.

Daft as it may seem, I think I know what he’s talking about.  My blog is a modest enterprise – its readership seems faithful but more often than not prefers reading to speaking out, or engaging actively with its author.  So I am a threat to no one.  Yet, whilst I was writing recently of Rupert Murdoch and Andy Coulson in posts I thought I had a duty to compose, I couldn’t help feeling that even in such a humble venture as mine the potential threat of legal action was breathing down my neck.  This is not a judgement on any sense of my own importance but rather, I feel, symptomatic of a wider and far more deep-seated malaise.

It would appear that the Fourth Estate has been awfully corrupted by the behaviours of people like Coulson – either by incompetence or through a long process of deliberation.  And I am sad to say this because – as the trained editor that I am – I can easily find it within me to truly admire Rupert Murdoch’s skill at editing reality the way he does.

It is a skill – a deep-seated skill; a skill we should all find it in ourselves to admire.  Yet, so often the history of newspaper publishing seems to teach us that it will inevitably associate itself with a corrosive megalomania – a fascination with life which slides glassily from interpreting reality to literally fashioning it with a terrible omniscience.

What is happening on Rupert Murdoch’s watch is a real life worldwide web of absolute power corrupting absolutely.  And we should not allow those who have no predators, the untouchables that Watson defines for us so powerfully, to continue to act as they have done thus far.

Not for our own peace of mind but, rather, for the peace of mind of an entire democracy.

The Fourth Estate recently reined in – quite rightly and not before time – our MPs and their mad timeline of expenses claims.  This abuse of power and dynamic of self interest, this lack of accountability and even simple decency, now has its reciprocity in the lax and easy attitudes that Rupert Murdoch’s pyramids of power have engendered in their personnel.

The credit crunch showed us how personal irresponsibility and systemic failure could come together to create the perfect storm of economic dismay.

MPs’ expenses showed us that privilege is a breeding ground for an ingrowing sense of civic despair.

Now News Corporation’s fierce grip on all our realities shows how being good at editing reality can lead you down the most destructive of paths and into a hell on earth of almost unimaginable consequences.

At least for those who work under and around you.
____________________

Further reading: Roy Greenslade on the need to focus on the issues to hand:

Forget the PCC. Forget any idea of a royal commission. It’s a matter or proportion and focus. It is time for a proper inquiry into the News of the World’s misbehaviour and the police’s shortcomings.

Jun 042010
 

Tom Watson gets this one pretty much absolutely right:

I’d love to see Ed Miliband contend with his own Walter Wolfgang moment, as Harold Wilson is seen to do. “I would ask you all to extend to our friend the courtesy that he is not extending to the meeting,” says Harold as a young dissenter is hurled through swing doors at the back of the room.

We don’t see that kind of behaviour today because modern politicians do all that they can to avoid their own Mrs Duffy moment. They’re terrified of unscripted interventions. And the nation is losing out as a result.

Furthermore, when he also says:

All the frontrunners for Labour’s leadership are insipid-looking, clean-shaven boys from the suburbs. I can only get away with saying this because the nation knows we also have a prime minister and deputy prime minister who don’t yet shave. David Cameron and Nick Clegg are mollycoddled middle-class white men whose idea of an early shift is the Today programme radio car interrupting their morning cappuccino.

More here in a similar vein.

But it’s not so much real people we’re looking to get involved here.  Everyone, after all, is real.  Rather, it’s more a question of releasing and freeing up that representative streak people have.

Perhaps better than “representative” is the word “authenticity”.

Paul seems to be touching on a similar subject today when he concludes:

As I’ve said, I like the idea of Labour being representative of the general population in all of these ways. I think that it may make for a better electoral performance and a better quality of policymaking.

But I keep going back to the notion that MPs should represent the nation as a whole and the idea that particular interests have to be at the table cuts against this preference.

There are many large companies these days which believe in the concept of mirroring the diversity of their client populations in the constitution of their personnel.  Not so curiously, this is not out of some sudden and altruistic early 21st century revelation and conversion to multiculturalism but rather the result of a hard-headed analysis of how to ensure value is added in customer-supplier relationships.  Put crudely, if you speak the language that your customer speaks, you will understand more accurately – and therefore more profitably – their needs. 

I use the term “language” in its widest interpretation here.

If many large companies can be usefully compared to some small countries, in both the best and worst of senses, then it would be fair to see the potential for applying these hard-headed business analyses – which, these days, impact more and more on recruitment policy – in the context of the demographic and cultural make-up of political parties and, by extension, the governments that proceed from such organisations.  If shareholder- and market-driven companies choose unashamedly to use quotas and positive discrimination to break down the glass ceilings that are assailing deserving candidates, why cannot politics at its very highest levels employ the same tools?

Apr 112010
 

Corporations create their own religions.  They have leaders who are generally untouchable, and inevitably upbeat.  They have departments dedicated exclusively to brainwashing individuals who start out as simple workers but who, if all goes well, soon become fanatical followers of this or that (whatever’s the flavour of the month, in fact – generally depends on who’s building which empire at the time): in the vast majority of companies such evangelising departments go by the nondescript abbreviation of HR, or, occasionally, by the oxymoron of Communication.

(Now wouldn’t you just love to work for a company honest enough to call its Communication department its Monologue department – or, alternatively, forward-looking enough to have the right to call it the Dialogue division?)

Then, of course, behind these corporate religions, there is the most important group of individuals of all: that is to say, the shareholders.  In this aspect, most Western corporations are much more like the multi-deity belief systems of cultures we might pooh-pooh as primitive than our own incredibly irrational cobbling together of superstition that is that hyper-hypocritical Christianity, which manages, astonishingly, inventively and incoherently, to integrate seamlessly with a latterday world of manic consumerism – and, through its many charities and fund-raising activities, at the same time live off its outer reaches.

Shareholders are to corporations what gods are to true religions.  (I suppose this must be said with at least one caveat to hand: some shareholders are clearly more godlike than others; that is to say, more equal than others.)  They act out of self-interest, they are all-seeing and omniscient – and they know, quite awfully, that to be kind you must be cruel.  It is thus quite clear that, in so many things, a corporate entity is frighteningly similar to religious organisations we would believe ourselves quite easily capable of resisting the temptation to ever go near.  Is it really so very surprising, then, that religious organisations can also appear frighteningly similar to corporations?

In the latest scandals to affect the Catholic church, and the hierarchy’s inability to see beyond its own rotting reputation, I am reminded of how Toyota’s ways of working and seeing the world led to it internally glorifying the savings of hundreds of millions of dollars whilst recalls were resisted in the lead-up to the recent braking and acceleration issues.  Corporations defend their own lack of integrity quite beyond what any objective assessment of reality would suggest was the case – because, essentially, I suppose, they are gigantic sales operations, and sales operations rapidly become used to the idea that if you say and believe enough, reality soon obediently acquiesces.

After my nervous breakdown, I was very vulnerable and returned to the Church in quite a big way.  I went to Mass every Sunday – even found myself returning to the difficult and trying rite of Confession on a couple of not unnotable occasions (occasions which, I have to observe, nevertheless failed to lift my fallen spirits as I had expected – perhaps I should’ve taken note sooner of this not inconsequential piece of data).  I stopped going a couple of years ago, though people very dear to me continue to avail themselves of this outlet for their religious instincts – and I am unwilling to criticise or indeed attempt in any big or small way to argue them out of this most personal choice.

Anyhow, as my corporate world collapsed around me during the financial services sector crises of the past two years, so my resistance to play a public and fulsome part in any other large organisation began to increase.  No.  I’m not saying I lost my faith in the Catholic Church because the hedge funds roundly messed us all around.  Not exactly.

But you can see where I’m coming from, can’t you?  Big is not better, not if our criteria involve sincerity, honesty, frankness, objectivity and humility.  Where layers of vested interests accumulate, so dinosaur-like behaviours impose themselves.

Above all, save your reputation before your soul.

Now how many large organisations can have claimed to do the latter before the former?  Tell me that.

I think, uneasily, I am inclined to believe in God.  Perhaps it is something that my age leads me to need to cling to.  Perhaps I cannot shake off my schizoid upbringing entirely; my damned ability to see both sides of a question even as I find myself arguing more one than the other just takes me over.  But, as I continue to give God the benefit of the doubt, His corporate manifestations on this godless earth are becoming evermore resistible.

And this means in all spheres.

Perhaps politics too.

I stumbled across the concept of “hyperlocal” on Twitter just this afternoon.  This is definitely something I need to investigate further.

Meanwhile, not a god but a hero all the same: Tom Watson’s digital pledges here.  Tom needs our support – partly because he is brave but mainly because he is right.

And essentially because he is not in the pocket of corporate religions – as some others in this debate currently find themselves.