In today's Gospel reading, Jesus visits the home of Mary, Martha and Lazarus. Mary anoints Jesus' feet with pure nard, a very costly ointment. It is an extravagant gesture of devotion, gratitude and love. Judas Iscariot regards this gesture as irresponsible, wasteful and reckless. He criticises Mary's action on the spurious ground that the money could have been better used, for the benefit of the poor - or so he said. But Jesus defends Mary's action and accepts it in the spirit in which it is offered. It is a free gesture of love and devotion; it is, in a way, a reflection of the extravagance of the love of God for each one of us; a love which is free and unbounded.
Whenever we love, truly love, we share - participate - in something of the love of God, whose love is the prototype of all loving. The marriage rite makes this clear, but there are other contexts, too, in which human beings love and become capable of the extravagant, almost reckless giving of the self which we see in today's Gospel. And because God's love is deeper, stronger and infinitely more extravagant than our own, it follows (because our love is a participation in the love of God) that our potentiality to love is without limit.
This week, we are brought into the closest possible contact with the love of God which reaches out to every person on earth. We see the full extent of his love shown forth in the death of Christ, and we are invited to respond in love. Like God's love for us, and like the nard in the Gospel reading, this love is always going to be costly. The way of love is never the easy way; it is always the harder and more-demanding way. But it is a purifying way, a way which leads through the cross to a new manner of existence in which all suffering, cruelty and death is overcome. This is what Holy Week is about, and it is what being a companion of Christ is about.
This week, we re-enact, sacramentally, the loving events of our Redemption. But we do more than simply re-enact them. We re-enact in order to participate in the movement out from ourselves and into the life of the God who is love.
Monday, 25 March 2013
Wednesday, 20 March 2013
Illiberal liberalism and political correctness - an unhappy combination.
Someone who was until recently a follower of mine on Twitter, and who was also among my Facebook friends, last week 'blocked' me on the former and 'unfriended' me on the latter. This person is a trustee of the British Humanist Association and Vice-President of the Media Society. He runs a PR company in London and is a former York city councillor and Labour parliamentary candidate. His name is Paul Blanchard, and I name him for three reasons: firstly, he is very loquacious on social networking sites; secondly, naming him somehow 'earths' what I want to say; and thirdly, he gave me no opportunity to respond to his emotive barrage of insults before cutting me off.
What brought all this to a head - we'd had heated disagreements before in which there were times when he went beyond what most people would regard as common courtesy - was a post I put on Facebook following the election of the new pope. Under the post, 'God bless Pope Francis', Blanchard wrote that the new pope had said that the adoption of children by homosexuals was 'a form of abuse' and said, sarcastically, that the Pope seemed like a 'nice guy'. I had not heard what the then Cardinal Bergoglio had said, and I responded by saying something to the effect that I would prefer to see for myself what he had actually said on the matter; I added that I thought that the ideal was for children to be raised by a mother and a father. This stimulated an interesting discussion, in which a couple of friends of mine disagreed with me, but in a perfectly reasonable and rational kind of way. A good discussion followed, in which I was able to clarify my position. I made no reference at any point to homosexual relationships or sexual activity within them - I restricted myself to the point with which I started; namely, that all other things being equal, a family unit with a mother and father, preferably married, provides the best and most stable environment for children to grow up. This claim is, as is well known, backed by by clear evidence.
Some time later, Paul Blanchard decided to enter the discussion again; he called me 'homophobic' and accused me of being bound by the 'stupid' Bible (to which, incidentally, I had made no reference). He had clearly assumed, without foundation, that I held the view that homosexual persons were not suitable people to bring up children, even though I was careful not to even imply such a thing; indeed, I acknowledged that there are excellent gay parents in precisely the same way that there are excellent single parents. But I did re-emphasise that I believe that the norm, or ideal, is that children be brought up and nurtured by a mother and a father. I believe that, since the relationship between a man and a woman is generative of life, gender and sexual complementarity cannot be assumed to be purely incidental to the nurture of children. I might add that, regarding gender complementarity, I regret that women are still outnumbered in parliament and that, of all students training to be primary school teachers, only around one in ten is male.
I am quite happy for people to disagree with me and, indeed, I often post comments on Twitter and Facebook on order to try to stimulate or provoke a discussion. But the exchange with Blanchard shows an alarming trend in contemporary society. It's fair to say, I think, that we live in what could be termed a liberal environment in which personal freedoms are valued highly. There has been a trend for decades now towards certain kinds of equality and non-discrimination towards people on the grounds of such as gender, ethnicity, sexuality, and disability. This trend is to be welcomed, though I can't help but note the irony that whilst this has been going on, a reverse trend has been taking place within the economic arena, but that's another story, and for another day.
For all the progress that appears to have been made towards creating a non-discriminatory environment, it would seem that certain groups have become fair game for the most appalling ridicule. The attitudes of people like Paul Blanchard bear this out very clearly. For all their professed liberalism and regard for freedom, they are clearly very happy to ridicule religion. They want to banish religion to the private sphere of individual lifestyle choices and, as a consequence, 'thin out' the fabric of public discourse. The one thing that is not permitted in the liberal paradise is to say anything which appears to cut across the new orthodoxy. So, when someone like myself tries to uphold traditional marriage and what many people still regard as an ideal for raising children, we are immediately denounced as homophobic, medieval, Bible-bound and so on - this is even when no mention at all has been made of gay sexuality, and when it has been conceded gladly that gay people can make good parents. It seems that, in the brave new liberal utopia, anything goes except the view that perhaps not anything goes, or even falls short of an ideal.
Some of this unthinking condemnation of anyone who seeks to uphold what are often denounced as 'traditional' views is due to an increasingly suffocating political correctness. This, along with a liberalism that, left unchecked, can easily mutate into a kind of tyranny, is a very unhappy coupling. In the end, Paul Blanchard decided that he could not even bring himself to have anything more to do with me. The free, open discussion which should be one of the principal characteristics of a truly liberal society is either banished altogether, or made to take place within a very narrow space which has been circumscribed in advance by those who trumpet their non-discriminatory credentials from the rooftops whilst at the same time bearing (most of) the hallmarks of a tyrant. Any supposedly liberal society in which this is the case is severely impoverished, for the taboos which held people captive in the past have simply been replaced with new ones.
Paul Blanchard himself, as I made clear earlier, is no off-the-wall loose cannon. He is prominent in organisations which make serious claims to respectability. Imagine the way he and others express themselves outside the public arena and among those who share their prejudices.
What brought all this to a head - we'd had heated disagreements before in which there were times when he went beyond what most people would regard as common courtesy - was a post I put on Facebook following the election of the new pope. Under the post, 'God bless Pope Francis', Blanchard wrote that the new pope had said that the adoption of children by homosexuals was 'a form of abuse' and said, sarcastically, that the Pope seemed like a 'nice guy'. I had not heard what the then Cardinal Bergoglio had said, and I responded by saying something to the effect that I would prefer to see for myself what he had actually said on the matter; I added that I thought that the ideal was for children to be raised by a mother and a father. This stimulated an interesting discussion, in which a couple of friends of mine disagreed with me, but in a perfectly reasonable and rational kind of way. A good discussion followed, in which I was able to clarify my position. I made no reference at any point to homosexual relationships or sexual activity within them - I restricted myself to the point with which I started; namely, that all other things being equal, a family unit with a mother and father, preferably married, provides the best and most stable environment for children to grow up. This claim is, as is well known, backed by by clear evidence.
Some time later, Paul Blanchard decided to enter the discussion again; he called me 'homophobic' and accused me of being bound by the 'stupid' Bible (to which, incidentally, I had made no reference). He had clearly assumed, without foundation, that I held the view that homosexual persons were not suitable people to bring up children, even though I was careful not to even imply such a thing; indeed, I acknowledged that there are excellent gay parents in precisely the same way that there are excellent single parents. But I did re-emphasise that I believe that the norm, or ideal, is that children be brought up and nurtured by a mother and a father. I believe that, since the relationship between a man and a woman is generative of life, gender and sexual complementarity cannot be assumed to be purely incidental to the nurture of children. I might add that, regarding gender complementarity, I regret that women are still outnumbered in parliament and that, of all students training to be primary school teachers, only around one in ten is male.
I am quite happy for people to disagree with me and, indeed, I often post comments on Twitter and Facebook on order to try to stimulate or provoke a discussion. But the exchange with Blanchard shows an alarming trend in contemporary society. It's fair to say, I think, that we live in what could be termed a liberal environment in which personal freedoms are valued highly. There has been a trend for decades now towards certain kinds of equality and non-discrimination towards people on the grounds of such as gender, ethnicity, sexuality, and disability. This trend is to be welcomed, though I can't help but note the irony that whilst this has been going on, a reverse trend has been taking place within the economic arena, but that's another story, and for another day.
For all the progress that appears to have been made towards creating a non-discriminatory environment, it would seem that certain groups have become fair game for the most appalling ridicule. The attitudes of people like Paul Blanchard bear this out very clearly. For all their professed liberalism and regard for freedom, they are clearly very happy to ridicule religion. They want to banish religion to the private sphere of individual lifestyle choices and, as a consequence, 'thin out' the fabric of public discourse. The one thing that is not permitted in the liberal paradise is to say anything which appears to cut across the new orthodoxy. So, when someone like myself tries to uphold traditional marriage and what many people still regard as an ideal for raising children, we are immediately denounced as homophobic, medieval, Bible-bound and so on - this is even when no mention at all has been made of gay sexuality, and when it has been conceded gladly that gay people can make good parents. It seems that, in the brave new liberal utopia, anything goes except the view that perhaps not anything goes, or even falls short of an ideal.
Some of this unthinking condemnation of anyone who seeks to uphold what are often denounced as 'traditional' views is due to an increasingly suffocating political correctness. This, along with a liberalism that, left unchecked, can easily mutate into a kind of tyranny, is a very unhappy coupling. In the end, Paul Blanchard decided that he could not even bring himself to have anything more to do with me. The free, open discussion which should be one of the principal characteristics of a truly liberal society is either banished altogether, or made to take place within a very narrow space which has been circumscribed in advance by those who trumpet their non-discriminatory credentials from the rooftops whilst at the same time bearing (most of) the hallmarks of a tyrant. Any supposedly liberal society in which this is the case is severely impoverished, for the taboos which held people captive in the past have simply been replaced with new ones.
Paul Blanchard himself, as I made clear earlier, is no off-the-wall loose cannon. He is prominent in organisations which make serious claims to respectability. Imagine the way he and others express themselves outside the public arena and among those who share their prejudices.
Monday, 11 June 2012
Institutions and The Widening Gulf between Indians and Chiefs
Democracy and representation in Britain are in crisis. There is a widespread apathy towards politics and politicians. There are various reasons for this. The crisis over the fraudulent expenses claims of some MPs certainly hasn't helped, but it would be a mistake to identify this as a major factor, since the process leading to the current indifference was underway long before this phenomenon became known. It is certainly true that the the main political parties are not as distinctive as they once were; it is much more difficult to describe what each of the parties stands for than it was, say, thirty years ago. The three main parties seem very close together in their overall philosophy. Even with regard to the current fiscal deficit, there is a general consensus among the parties that that cutting public expenditure is the solution; the parties differ only as to how quickly and deeply the cuts should be made and how much should be done by government to stimulate the national economy. People often say that 'they're all the same nowadays', using this as a justification for their not bothering to cast their vote.
These, and perhaps other, factors have undoubtedly contributed to a tendency for fewer people to go to the ballot box. There is a very real sense in people that their vote counts for little. On top of this, it cannot be doubted that voting in a Westminster election has less significance than it did in the past. This is because, increasingly, we are subject to legislation made beyond our shores, in Europe. This makes the sense of 'distance' even greater; people feel even more powerless as more and more of the laws which govern our lives are made further away from us, in geographical terms. Leaving aside the important matter of where in the European Union real power resides (European Parliament/Commission), voting figures in elections for the European parliament are pitiably low; and most people have no idea who their Euro MP is. So whilst it cannot be said that the European parliament is actually undemocratic, it can certainly be argued that the whole European project, as currently construed, is inimical to true democracy and proper representation; most people are simply indifferent towards it.
So domestically and on the European level, we have a political situation in which the people are largely and increasingly non-participatory. A gulf has opened up between those who govern and those who are governed. Our 'democracy' has, for a variety of reasons, mutated into what might almost be desribed as an oligarchy. The political 'establishment' has become a phenomenon in itself. It claims to 'know', it consorts with those who are eminent in their fields and with those who are described as 'celebrities', and has cosy and unhealthy relationships with the leading lights of the newspaper media. And on top of this, there has been a noticeable 'professionalisation' of our political representatives as the House of Commons in particular has become populated more and more by career politicians who are seen to have little or no experience of a 'proper job'.
The Church of England, supposedly counter-cultural (that's what the Gospel is) predictably, and depressingly, follows suit. Its General Synod, supposedly representative but actually anything but, operates as if its power and authority has no parameters. It has taken to itself the authority to pronounce on doctrinal matters, and on matters to do with the ordering of the Church's ministry. It does its business by way of majority voting, as if matters of truth can be so decided. It is as good an example of centralised power and the tyranny inherent therein as anything I can think of. It has fed itself on the vacuum in authority of the House of Bishops which, for decades, has lacked the will and the courage to rein it in. Synodical government has turned the Church of England into a debating society, within which there appears often to be a lack of the charity and mutual respect essential to healthy discussion. Much of what it tears itself (and the Church) apart over are beyond the immediate concerns of the people in the parishes (who pay its burgeoning costs). The synodical leadership of the Church of England has the characteristics of an oligarchy and appears remote from the grassroots of the Church.
Beyond the Synod itself, life in the Church of England for everyone has become more and more centralised, as diocesan bureaucracies become more extensive and intrusive. Not only are there fewer people in the churches each week, but there are more bishops than ever before. Most archdeacons do not look after parishes and even such as diocesan directors of ordinands are now full-time in those posts because the institutional church has, from the centre, sought to impose a prescriptive pattern of training for ordained ministry, which now extends even beyond ordination. I can't remember which theoretician it was who said that two of the characteristics of institutions in terminal decline are increasing centralisation and increasing bureaucracy - whoever it was might have been commenting upon the contemporary Church of England. It seems that those at the centre, when faced with difficulties, abandon any trust they ever had in those actually doing the ordinary, everyday work and try to control everything themselves; and so the institutional church continues to cut the number of stipendiary clergy in the parishes whilst leaving the bureaucracy intact and sometimes even increasing it.
In the political arena and in the Church of England, there appear to have developed huge lacunae between those 'at the top' and everyone else. Politically, this leads to progressive disengagement on the part of the mass of people. Within the Church of England, it leads to a progressive disengagement on the part of the laity and, therefore, to a reduced likelihood that the Church will be able to support itself financially in the future. It's time that all who find themselves in any kind of leadership position began to remember that they are set there for the common good of all rather than for the benefit of the institutions themselves.
Democracy and representation in Britain are in crisis. There is a widespread apathy towards politics and politicians. There are various reasons for this. The crisis over the fraudulent expenses claims of some MPs certainly hasn't helped, but it would be a mistake to identify this as a major factor, since the process leading to the current indifference was underway long before this phenomenon became known. It is certainly true that the the main political parties are not as distinctive as they once were; it is much more difficult to describe what each of the parties stands for than it was, say, thirty years ago. The three main parties seem very close together in their overall philosophy. Even with regard to the current fiscal deficit, there is a general consensus among the parties that that cutting public expenditure is the solution; the parties differ only as to how quickly and deeply the cuts should be made and how much should be done by government to stimulate the national economy. People often say that 'they're all the same nowadays', using this as a justification for their not bothering to cast their vote.
These, and perhaps other, factors have undoubtedly contributed to a tendency for fewer people to go to the ballot box. There is a very real sense in people that their vote counts for little. On top of this, it cannot be doubted that voting in a Westminster election has less significance than it did in the past. This is because, increasingly, we are subject to legislation made beyond our shores, in Europe. This makes the sense of 'distance' even greater; people feel even more powerless as more and more of the laws which govern our lives are made further away from us, in geographical terms. Leaving aside the important matter of where in the European Union real power resides (European Parliament/Commission), voting figures in elections for the European parliament are pitiably low; and most people have no idea who their Euro MP is. So whilst it cannot be said that the European parliament is actually undemocratic, it can certainly be argued that the whole European project, as currently construed, is inimical to true democracy and proper representation; most people are simply indifferent towards it.
So domestically and on the European level, we have a political situation in which the people are largely and increasingly non-participatory. A gulf has opened up between those who govern and those who are governed. Our 'democracy' has, for a variety of reasons, mutated into what might almost be desribed as an oligarchy. The political 'establishment' has become a phenomenon in itself. It claims to 'know', it consorts with those who are eminent in their fields and with those who are described as 'celebrities', and has cosy and unhealthy relationships with the leading lights of the newspaper media. And on top of this, there has been a noticeable 'professionalisation' of our political representatives as the House of Commons in particular has become populated more and more by career politicians who are seen to have little or no experience of a 'proper job'.
The Church of England, supposedly counter-cultural (that's what the Gospel is) predictably, and depressingly, follows suit. Its General Synod, supposedly representative but actually anything but, operates as if its power and authority has no parameters. It has taken to itself the authority to pronounce on doctrinal matters, and on matters to do with the ordering of the Church's ministry. It does its business by way of majority voting, as if matters of truth can be so decided. It is as good an example of centralised power and the tyranny inherent therein as anything I can think of. It has fed itself on the vacuum in authority of the House of Bishops which, for decades, has lacked the will and the courage to rein it in. Synodical government has turned the Church of England into a debating society, within which there appears often to be a lack of the charity and mutual respect essential to healthy discussion. Much of what it tears itself (and the Church) apart over are beyond the immediate concerns of the people in the parishes (who pay its burgeoning costs). The synodical leadership of the Church of England has the characteristics of an oligarchy and appears remote from the grassroots of the Church.
Beyond the Synod itself, life in the Church of England for everyone has become more and more centralised, as diocesan bureaucracies become more extensive and intrusive. Not only are there fewer people in the churches each week, but there are more bishops than ever before. Most archdeacons do not look after parishes and even such as diocesan directors of ordinands are now full-time in those posts because the institutional church has, from the centre, sought to impose a prescriptive pattern of training for ordained ministry, which now extends even beyond ordination. I can't remember which theoretician it was who said that two of the characteristics of institutions in terminal decline are increasing centralisation and increasing bureaucracy - whoever it was might have been commenting upon the contemporary Church of England. It seems that those at the centre, when faced with difficulties, abandon any trust they ever had in those actually doing the ordinary, everyday work and try to control everything themselves; and so the institutional church continues to cut the number of stipendiary clergy in the parishes whilst leaving the bureaucracy intact and sometimes even increasing it.
In the political arena and in the Church of England, there appear to have developed huge lacunae between those 'at the top' and everyone else. Politically, this leads to progressive disengagement on the part of the mass of people. Within the Church of England, it leads to a progressive disengagement on the part of the laity and, therefore, to a reduced likelihood that the Church will be able to support itself financially in the future. It's time that all who find themselves in any kind of leadership position began to remember that they are set there for the common good of all rather than for the benefit of the institutions themselves.
Sunday, 15 January 2012
The Problem for Labour - and for the majority of the British people
The Labour Party has a serious problem, which it must rectify if it is ever to deliver for the people the party was formed to represent. The problem is an ideological one. Since Tony Blair managed to get the party to ditch Clause IV of its consitution, it has been almost impossible to identify one single feature of the party which makes it distinctive. I acknowledge that the Labour Party has never been a socialist party (though it has aways contained socialists), as Tony Benn has reminded us often; but Clause IV did give the party some, perhaps idealistic, philosophical underpinning. Even those who never really accepted it nevertheless eschewed the kind of rampant economic liberalism that was encouraged to flourish under the Blair government; Clause IV acted as a kind of ideological check, a touchstone, for many in the party, which is precisely why Blair consigned it to history.
The reason why Blair got away with his ideological rebranding of the party is because, after long years of opposition, many people within the party were so desperate to get into power that they were prepared to say and do almost anything to secure it. Tha attainment of power became the first principle, and many of the leading lights in the party simply crucified their consciences to this end. Principle was replaced by pragmatism.
Blair, with his chancellor, 'Prudence' Brown, set out to show the electorate that they could be fiscally responsible; and this roughly translates as being able to run capitalism better than those who really believed in it. The eighteen years of opposition, which could have been used fruitfully to rebuild a party committed to its founding principles, were wasted. Instead, Labour people toured the country under Kinnnock engaging in the so-called 'Labour Listens' initiative; this amounted to the conveying of a message to the electorate along the lines of 'tell us what you want and we'll provide it'.
During the years of Labour administration, under Blair and then Brown, Labour was often accused by some in the trades unions, among others, of simply aping the Conservatives. It is certainly true that, whilst Labour did find more public money for schools and the like (easy at a time of economic prosperity), the gap between rich and poor widened significantly - a severe indictment for a party traditionally concerned with wealth redistribution. It is also true that Peter Mandelson declared the party to be 'relaxed' about extreme wealth.
Now, back in opposition, it would appear that Labour is determined to retain its new character. Yesterday, Ed Balls, hitherto more stubbornly Keynesian than some of his cuts-driven colleagues, actually committed Labour to the Tories' public sector pay freeze agenda. Today, Ed Miliband defended him in the party's latest plea to be seen as 'fiscally credible'. It is almost impossible to identify any real difference between Labour and the Conservatives, other than that the former would like to go more slowly and less aggressively. Philosophically, they are the same. Labour traditionally benefits from higher electoral turnouts, and yet the party is doing everything, it would appear, to discourage people from bothering to go out to vote.
Because of its philosophical deficit, Labour is now quite unable to offer voters an alternative to the Tories' approach to the current financial challenges. It's as if There Is No Alternative.
Yet there is. The total personal wealth in the UK is £9,000bn, a sum much larger than the national debt. The richest 10% owns £4,000bn; this sector of the population has an average per household income of £4m. The bottom half of the population owns 9%. As Greg Philo argued last year in The Guardian, a one-off tax of just 20% of the wealth of the richest 10% would pay the national debt and reduce the deficit significantly, precisely because of the fact (as the Tories keep reminding us) that interest payments on the debt represent a large proportion of government spending. There is no reason why this tax could not be graduated within this sector of the population.
The policies of the coaltion government, by contrast, are having the effect of increasing unemployment and reducing benefits; these policies are hitting the bottom 6 million people the hardest. We have already seen some serious social unrest; there is likely to be more. We are emphatically not 'all in this together' - a fact shown by the recent record profits for Rolls Royce and a huge increase in profits in 2011 for Fortnum and Mason. The rich are most certainly not 'in this' with the rest of us.
We are the sixth richest nation on earth, and yet we are cutting the school meals services and making even more unjust what are already regressive forms of taxation. The scandal is that the Labour Party is complicit, and that ordinary working people have no major political party to represent them. There may be a fiscal deficit - we hear about it all the time - but there is also a philosophical deficit within the Labour Party and a democratic deficit in our nation.
The reason why Blair got away with his ideological rebranding of the party is because, after long years of opposition, many people within the party were so desperate to get into power that they were prepared to say and do almost anything to secure it. Tha attainment of power became the first principle, and many of the leading lights in the party simply crucified their consciences to this end. Principle was replaced by pragmatism.
Blair, with his chancellor, 'Prudence' Brown, set out to show the electorate that they could be fiscally responsible; and this roughly translates as being able to run capitalism better than those who really believed in it. The eighteen years of opposition, which could have been used fruitfully to rebuild a party committed to its founding principles, were wasted. Instead, Labour people toured the country under Kinnnock engaging in the so-called 'Labour Listens' initiative; this amounted to the conveying of a message to the electorate along the lines of 'tell us what you want and we'll provide it'.
During the years of Labour administration, under Blair and then Brown, Labour was often accused by some in the trades unions, among others, of simply aping the Conservatives. It is certainly true that, whilst Labour did find more public money for schools and the like (easy at a time of economic prosperity), the gap between rich and poor widened significantly - a severe indictment for a party traditionally concerned with wealth redistribution. It is also true that Peter Mandelson declared the party to be 'relaxed' about extreme wealth.
Now, back in opposition, it would appear that Labour is determined to retain its new character. Yesterday, Ed Balls, hitherto more stubbornly Keynesian than some of his cuts-driven colleagues, actually committed Labour to the Tories' public sector pay freeze agenda. Today, Ed Miliband defended him in the party's latest plea to be seen as 'fiscally credible'. It is almost impossible to identify any real difference between Labour and the Conservatives, other than that the former would like to go more slowly and less aggressively. Philosophically, they are the same. Labour traditionally benefits from higher electoral turnouts, and yet the party is doing everything, it would appear, to discourage people from bothering to go out to vote.
Because of its philosophical deficit, Labour is now quite unable to offer voters an alternative to the Tories' approach to the current financial challenges. It's as if There Is No Alternative.
Yet there is. The total personal wealth in the UK is £9,000bn, a sum much larger than the national debt. The richest 10% owns £4,000bn; this sector of the population has an average per household income of £4m. The bottom half of the population owns 9%. As Greg Philo argued last year in The Guardian, a one-off tax of just 20% of the wealth of the richest 10% would pay the national debt and reduce the deficit significantly, precisely because of the fact (as the Tories keep reminding us) that interest payments on the debt represent a large proportion of government spending. There is no reason why this tax could not be graduated within this sector of the population.
The policies of the coaltion government, by contrast, are having the effect of increasing unemployment and reducing benefits; these policies are hitting the bottom 6 million people the hardest. We have already seen some serious social unrest; there is likely to be more. We are emphatically not 'all in this together' - a fact shown by the recent record profits for Rolls Royce and a huge increase in profits in 2011 for Fortnum and Mason. The rich are most certainly not 'in this' with the rest of us.
We are the sixth richest nation on earth, and yet we are cutting the school meals services and making even more unjust what are already regressive forms of taxation. The scandal is that the Labour Party is complicit, and that ordinary working people have no major political party to represent them. There may be a fiscal deficit - we hear about it all the time - but there is also a philosophical deficit within the Labour Party and a democratic deficit in our nation.
Sunday, 21 August 2011
Reflection on the Riots
Many people have been shocked by the recent riots in London and other cities. Various explanations have been offered, and continue to be offered, as to why they occurred, with politicians and others disagreeing with each other, sometimes vehemently. My own view is that the anatomy of the phenomenon is likely to be immensely complex, with no single explanatory factor and many and various different and disparate causes. It would be better, in the light of this, to avoid some of the knee-jerk reactions we have heard. The Prime Minister’s emphasis has been on being tough with the rioters, threatening to remove people from their ‘subsidised housing’ and taking away their benefits. I disagree with him about this, not least on the grounds that exacerbating the difficulties that some of these people face is hardly likely to help to ensure that there is no repetition.
Among the various explanations for the riots are those which emphasise the sense of hopelessness and disenfranchisement experienced by at least some of those involved; and in a society in which the gap between rich and poor has been widening for many years now, this argument has to be taken seriously. Some people emphasise what they see as a general moral breakdown in society, a problem which they argue has been getting gradually worse for decades; again, there is ample evidence to support the veracity of this claim. Still others point to inadequate parenting and the scarcity of good role models, especially for boys. There are, of course, other explanations offered. In my view, they are all contributory factors and, importantly, they are all related in some way.
Many commentators remark upon a crisis in modern western culture of which all the above factors are characteristics. I believe that the cultural crisis is directly related to the rise of secularity which is not, of course, to say that in the past everything was rosy, nor that people of faith are intrinsically any more 'moral' than others. At the root of the problem, as I see it, is the fact that a secular worldview cannot give a coherent account of the intrinsic value of the human person. As Christians, we would say that every human person is intrinsically valuable because every human person is created in the image of God. By intrinsically valuable, I mean valuable by virtue of being human; and not valuable for what a person may be able to produce, or consume (such a view would see the human person as merely instrumentally valuable).
The reason why secularity cannot provide this account is because, in the absence of an acknowledgement of God and his sovereignty, all we can say about the human race is that we are here purely by chance and that any values we establish in society are purely subjective (and relative) values which can change by common consent at any time; or, more dangerously, by the consent of those who hold the reins of power or influence, whatever these might be. In this framework, there are no abiding values which can claim universal consent. So a state of affairs can easily come about in which people are valued for their ability to produce goods and profits; or for their intellectual or sporting ability, or their looks, or whatever. When this occurs, others are then inevitably undervalued, being valued in merely relative terms. There may even be a situation in which some people feel they have nothing to contribute, and consequently no real stake in society. Some, including myself, would argue that this is precisely where we are today.
Universal, objective values can only ever be established and defended within and overarching framework which acknowledges the transcendent and sees a clear purpose in human life; a framework in which every human being is acknowledged to be unique and precious. In addition to this, but inseparable from it, the framework must include an account of the ultimate purpose and rightful destiny of the human person. Without such a teleological framework (telos = tending towards an end), there can be no adequate account of the intrinsic value of the human person, and there is always, therefore, the likelihood of violence, exploitation, feelings of alienation and the like.
Given the firmly secular nature of contemporary western society and culture, this sounds like a pessimistic outlook with regard to the future, but I would hope that Christians, and other mainstream religionists, might at least influence the debates which will now take place; and that a first step towards a better future might be for those in positions of power especially to try to ensure that every single member of our society can be affirmed and valued for their essential humanity and not for what they can ‘contribute’ to society in chiefly material terms.
Friday, 3 June 2011
The Deficit - belt-tightening for all?
Last Sunday, Karen and I went to the big Lakeland shop at Windermere. We do occasionally, and I always find myself people-watching whilst Karen browses around, picking up the odd item. For the uninitiated, the shop sells a large range of household goods, of good quality, along with what I would describe as middle-class fripperies. These fripperies include such items as banana-holders (yellow, to look like the actual banana, of course), overpriced Jamie Oliver mugs with monikers like 'Top Dad' and 'Green Fingers', and green mats to go in the bottom of one's freezer boxes to make the veg last (a bit) longer. There is a long list of bourgeois accoutrements which every respectable home must have.
On Sunday, the place was packed. At the one end of the shop, there is a large line of tills, and there was a decent-sized queue waiting to get to the tills. One would never have thought that the country was labouring under the burden of a large fiscal deficit, only just out of recession and facing predictions that worse might yet come. What was absolutely certain was that the people in the Lakeland shop weren't suffering too much. Maybe this is what Cameron meant when he said that 'we're all in this together'. Not so bad after all.
I've always noted that the affluent benefit most in an economic boom and suffer least in a slump. The concomitant is also evident: the least well-off suffer most in a slump and benefit the least in a boom. I also believe that the current government's approach to our fiscal challenges is primarily an ideological one. The ideology is essentially to do with reconfiguring the national economy in favour of the 'private' over the 'public'. Only yesterday, it was announced that public sector pay had fallen in real terms at the very same time that there had been an unprecedented rise in private sector pay. Lansley's proposed health reforms provide another example of this priority.
In an article on 29th March this year, Johann Hari called 'the deficit' 'the biggest lie in British politics'. He says that we have been fed a false account as to how we are in crisis and that the medicine prescribed is inappropriate. He adds, correctly, that what appears to be broad philosophical consensus between the main political parties is simply not challenged, except by a few Nobel Prize-winning economists. The lie centres upon the so-called debt crisis and the supposed need to eradicate the debt rapidly.
Hari goes on to say that, as a proportion of GDP, the British national debt has been higher than it is now for 200 of the last 250 years; that Japan's national debt is three times ours, and yet they are still borrowing at good rates. Cameron says that the bond markets demand that we pay off the deficit rapidly because, if we don't, our national credit rating will be downgraded and then we shall have to pay the debt at much higher rates of interest. Hari argues that the bond markets are making no such threat; indeed, he cites the Nobel-winning economist Paul Krugman, who says that the bond markets actually punish those who cut too quickly and deeply and thereby damage the prospects of economic growth. It's interesting that the last two countries to have their credit rating downgraded are Ireland and Spain, both of whom did precisely what Cameron is arguing for.
The economist who drew the salient lessons from the Great Depression, Hari says, was John Maynard Keynes. These lessons are as follows. In a recession, individuals sensibly cut back their spending and save more. This leads to a fall in private demand and a fall in economic activity. But if, at the same time, governments cut back, too, then overall demand falls, and recession can easily tip into a depression. This suggests that governments must act counter-intuitively: they must borrow, spend, and jump-start the economy, so as to prevent economic collapse and restore growth. Keynes calls this 'the paradox of thrift'.
It seems to have been forgotten by virtually everyone (or perhaps deliberately overlooked) that it was the government's decision to re-arm for the Second World War in the 1930s which was perhaps the biggest single factor in the emergence of Britain from the years of austerity. This re-armament was financed out of a public purse which ordinary people had been led to believe was empty. This programme of public expenditure not only enabled Britain to resist Hitler, but provided the stimulus which put the nation back to work.
It has to be said, sadly, that even the Labour Party (with the exception of a few individuals), has utterly failed to challenge Cameron's basic approach. Its message seems to echo that of the coalition government, arguing only that we should go slower and to a lesser degree.
I believe that Cameron's approach is doctrinaire. He has, after all, called himself the 'Child of Thatcher' in the past. He and Osborne discern, in the present economic climate, an opportunity to bring about a fundamental shift in our national economy towards a free-market, and much more laissez-faire environment. In her book, The Shock Doctrine (2007), Naomi Klein gives a long list of examples of politicians all over the world, in countries such as Argentina, Chile, Poland, South Africa and Russia, consciously and deliberately using adverse economic conditions, often actually confected by Friedmanite economists themselves, to bring about drastic shifts of a kind that enable the rich to exploit the poor. The International Monetary Fund and the World Trade Organisation have been willing accomplices in this exploitation of people's misery in these countries; indeed, in most cases, they have made financial aid to impoverished countries dependent upon the adoption of a political system designed to faciliate the looting of their countries by predatory capitalists.
These shifts have served to widen immeasurably the gulf between rich and poor. In our own country at the present time, it is the pooerst who are bearing the brunt; it is those most dependent on support of various kinds who are feeling the pinch and paying the price of a crisis caused by greedy individuals in the banking sector and elsewhere.
Those shopping in the Lakeland shop last weekend seemed immune to the supposedly straitened circumstances. When the economy emerges into better times, the tills will truly be groaning, whereas our public services and the pensions of ordinary working people will have seen an unparalleled curtailment.
On Sunday, the place was packed. At the one end of the shop, there is a large line of tills, and there was a decent-sized queue waiting to get to the tills. One would never have thought that the country was labouring under the burden of a large fiscal deficit, only just out of recession and facing predictions that worse might yet come. What was absolutely certain was that the people in the Lakeland shop weren't suffering too much. Maybe this is what Cameron meant when he said that 'we're all in this together'. Not so bad after all.
I've always noted that the affluent benefit most in an economic boom and suffer least in a slump. The concomitant is also evident: the least well-off suffer most in a slump and benefit the least in a boom. I also believe that the current government's approach to our fiscal challenges is primarily an ideological one. The ideology is essentially to do with reconfiguring the national economy in favour of the 'private' over the 'public'. Only yesterday, it was announced that public sector pay had fallen in real terms at the very same time that there had been an unprecedented rise in private sector pay. Lansley's proposed health reforms provide another example of this priority.
In an article on 29th March this year, Johann Hari called 'the deficit' 'the biggest lie in British politics'. He says that we have been fed a false account as to how we are in crisis and that the medicine prescribed is inappropriate. He adds, correctly, that what appears to be broad philosophical consensus between the main political parties is simply not challenged, except by a few Nobel Prize-winning economists. The lie centres upon the so-called debt crisis and the supposed need to eradicate the debt rapidly.
Hari goes on to say that, as a proportion of GDP, the British national debt has been higher than it is now for 200 of the last 250 years; that Japan's national debt is three times ours, and yet they are still borrowing at good rates. Cameron says that the bond markets demand that we pay off the deficit rapidly because, if we don't, our national credit rating will be downgraded and then we shall have to pay the debt at much higher rates of interest. Hari argues that the bond markets are making no such threat; indeed, he cites the Nobel-winning economist Paul Krugman, who says that the bond markets actually punish those who cut too quickly and deeply and thereby damage the prospects of economic growth. It's interesting that the last two countries to have their credit rating downgraded are Ireland and Spain, both of whom did precisely what Cameron is arguing for.
The economist who drew the salient lessons from the Great Depression, Hari says, was John Maynard Keynes. These lessons are as follows. In a recession, individuals sensibly cut back their spending and save more. This leads to a fall in private demand and a fall in economic activity. But if, at the same time, governments cut back, too, then overall demand falls, and recession can easily tip into a depression. This suggests that governments must act counter-intuitively: they must borrow, spend, and jump-start the economy, so as to prevent economic collapse and restore growth. Keynes calls this 'the paradox of thrift'.
It seems to have been forgotten by virtually everyone (or perhaps deliberately overlooked) that it was the government's decision to re-arm for the Second World War in the 1930s which was perhaps the biggest single factor in the emergence of Britain from the years of austerity. This re-armament was financed out of a public purse which ordinary people had been led to believe was empty. This programme of public expenditure not only enabled Britain to resist Hitler, but provided the stimulus which put the nation back to work.
It has to be said, sadly, that even the Labour Party (with the exception of a few individuals), has utterly failed to challenge Cameron's basic approach. Its message seems to echo that of the coalition government, arguing only that we should go slower and to a lesser degree.
I believe that Cameron's approach is doctrinaire. He has, after all, called himself the 'Child of Thatcher' in the past. He and Osborne discern, in the present economic climate, an opportunity to bring about a fundamental shift in our national economy towards a free-market, and much more laissez-faire environment. In her book, The Shock Doctrine (2007), Naomi Klein gives a long list of examples of politicians all over the world, in countries such as Argentina, Chile, Poland, South Africa and Russia, consciously and deliberately using adverse economic conditions, often actually confected by Friedmanite economists themselves, to bring about drastic shifts of a kind that enable the rich to exploit the poor. The International Monetary Fund and the World Trade Organisation have been willing accomplices in this exploitation of people's misery in these countries; indeed, in most cases, they have made financial aid to impoverished countries dependent upon the adoption of a political system designed to faciliate the looting of their countries by predatory capitalists.
These shifts have served to widen immeasurably the gulf between rich and poor. In our own country at the present time, it is the pooerst who are bearing the brunt; it is those most dependent on support of various kinds who are feeling the pinch and paying the price of a crisis caused by greedy individuals in the banking sector and elsewhere.
Those shopping in the Lakeland shop last weekend seemed immune to the supposedly straitened circumstances. When the economy emerges into better times, the tills will truly be groaning, whereas our public services and the pensions of ordinary working people will have seen an unparalleled curtailment.
Tuesday, 22 March 2011
Human Resources?
Led by commerce, personnel departments have generally been re-named as 'Human Resources'. This change has been far-reaching indeed; the term personnel has all but disappeared, and the new designation is ubiquitous indeed. Even in the Church of England (I say 'even' but it's hardly surprising), HR departments have sprung up everywhere.
It strikes me that this redesignation is a real retrograde step; or it is as far as 'persons' are concerned. I imagine the term HR is a form of accountant-speak in which everything is reduced to a matter of pounds and pence. The problem with the term is that it is, in a sense, de-humanising. It implicitly (explicitly?) reduces persons (with all that the term implies in terms of inalienable rights and the like), to mere 'resources'. Human-beings, in this new milieu, are effectively reduced to merely instrumental value, like the photocopier or the fax machine. As resources, they can be called upon, deployed, exploited (even in the best sense) in the furtherance of an end beyond themselves and in which they may have no share. A resource is something essentially inert, and of no value until it is utilised.
The word 'personnel', by contrast, explicitly reminds those in positions of authority, that they are dealing with persons and not mere resources. Persons have views, opinions and values. Their very presence and status as persons serves as a reminder that the true value of any work or human enterprise derives from the value of those for whom that work is undertaken, an insight articulated memorably by Pope Paul VI in a homily on the feast of the Holy Family way back in 1964.
Persons, then, have an intrinsic value. Indeed, they are the end to which all human endeavour is oriented. Resources have an instrumental, or relative, value. Those who would wish to suggest that, over the past thirty years, most people's working lives have worsened in so many ways, might well argue that the change from 'personnel' to 'human resources' has the character of an uncorrected Freudian slip.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)