Transform the Lords to save us from Faragism

(This article was originally published on Reaction.life.)

Michael Gove famously said during the EU referendum campaign: “People have had enough of experts”. His words, though much-derided, reflect a popular sense that our politics has moved away from democratically-accountable government, driven largely by supranational institutions and treaties, and populated by appointed ‘experts’ to whom we must defer without any means of influencing their decisions.

To this transnational class of epistocrats has been added, at the domestic level, a parallel species of quangocrat touted as ‘independent’ and similarly unresponsive to electoral pressure. Resentment toward this ecosystem of insiders has been growing for years, if not decades. In our country, Farage and his Brexit Party have now made it their mission to burn this whole edifice down.

This may be politically resonant, but is it wise? One persuasive argument for remaining in the EU is that the complexity and interdependence of modern nation states cannot be mastered at speed by elected non-specialists. That the effective management of the modern world needs a grasp of often highly technical matters that takes years to acquire, and some policy areas need serious expertise as well as a degree of insulation from MPs who believe, Boris-like, that any issue can be adequately grasped with a few hours of cramming and a bon mot or two.

Some areas of government are too abstruse to make it into the general political discourse – the scandal of hygiene standards in manufacturing, say, or rules governing the import of consumer goods – while remaining immensely important overall. The failure of UK MPs to get to grips with the detail of pretty much all such areas since the EU referendum has been painfully obvious.

This is the core of the pro-EU view that it is better to agree this stuff together with the rest of the club, then leave the system in the hands of experienced professional civil servants while we get on with our daily lives. It’s an argument that has some merit, especially when compared to the blundering attempts of our MPs to cram technical subjects in a few hours in order to make decisions that will affect the lives of millions.

In this view, public resentment of experts is self-evidently foolish and destructive and should simply be ignored. But this view is only half right. The public as a whole welcomes expertise, serious statesmanship and long-term thinking in public life and is unhappy not with experts but with their lack of accountability. No-one really disputes that if we do ever leave the EU we will need our institutional memory, and our experts, more than ever. A Faragist destruction of our governing institutions would cause a loss of this institutional memory that we can ill afford, given its already etiolated state after decades of outsourcing policy to Brussels. So, given that we need them, how can we make our experts more accountable, and prevent populism from throwing experience, expertise, long-term thinking and other important babies out with the ‘metropolitan elite’ bathwater? My proposal is that this should be the role of the House of Lords.

Whatever its faults, the hereditary House of Lords did supply some long-term thinking in our public life. But since Blair’s reforms it has become both an extension of party politics and a form of reward for good behaviour in the ecology of ‘experts’ that populates public life. Both these developments are to the detriment both of democratic accountability and long-term thinking.

We should abolish the system of appointed hereditary peers that so typifies the ‘insiders’ club’ feeling of modern politics and instead invite experts to run for election to the Lords. This would be on a long electoral cycle (let’s say ten years) with a recall mechanism in extremis and specific responsibility for taking the long view on key policy areas where expertise is needed and party politics a source of harm.

Areas of policy that might benefit from being managed in this way include (in no particular order) healthcare, education, consumer standards and international trade. Education and healthcare in particular suffer from being treated by all sides as a political football. They are subjected to interminable ‘reforms’ by MPs thinking in electoral cycles rather than the long term, and desperate for impact with no regard for the millions whose daily jobs are turned upside down by the latest eye-catching initiative. And international trade and product standards are (as the Brexit negotiations have amply demonstrated) too technical for the brief to be grasped on a short timescale by elected non-experts.

Under this system, rather than having (for example) an education secretary in situ for a year or two, fiddling with policy for the sake of looking busy, we could have subject experts with hands-on experience, such as Katherine Birbalsingh or Amanda Spielman, standing for the Lords on a ten-year education ticket, long enough to see the results of any decisions taken and be held accountable for them. We could see a Lords education candidate for child-centred ‘skills’ education debate a Lords candidate keen on knowledge-and-discipline-first, with the electorate able to make the decision. Alongside this critical function of managing areas of policy for the long term, our elected expert Lords could then continue their role scrutinising legislation, as at present.

This transformation would at a stroke rid us of our increasingly unpopular ‘crony’ Lords, create more space for long-term thinking in key policy areas, and make the experts we need more democratically accountable. It would move some areas of policymaking away from short-term party politics and more toward a blend of long-termism and direct democracy. In doing so it could balance the need for experts in modern government with the equally pressing need to respond to a general public sense of democratic deficit, and thus maybe yet save us all from Faragism.

Social justice? Or class warfare?

An aristocracy is pulling itself away from the masses in America’s supposedly egalitarian society, writes Matthew Stewart in this masterful article for The Atlantic. By carefully hoarding (among other things) property wealth, social capital, educational opportunities and tax breaks, all of which is combining to consolidate a top 10 percent which believes itself to be meritocratic but whose meritocracy is increasingly hereditary. I won’t rehash the article; read it; whether you’re American or not, if you live in an advanced first world economy you will likely hear resonances of the situation in your own nation – not least because the people in that top 10 per cent could in fact be found in your own country as much as in the USA, as they map fairly straightforwardly onto the Anywheres described by David Goodhart in his book The Road To Somewhere.

I want to use the new aristocracy of Stewart’s piece – Goodhart’s Anywheres – as a starting point for considering the practical impact of the social justice catechism. My thesis is that while this catechism purports to promote egalitarianism, in its practical impact it acts as a form of class warfare that serves both to justify and also to retrench the class interests and cultural homogeneity of this aristocracy. It is, after all, the elite colleges of the USA from which the social justice gospel most pungently emanates, and the gilded young people of America’s new aristocracy would not be glomming so enthusiastically to an ideology that served profoundly to undermine their own class interests. Not even upper-class Communists do that, except in theory.

It’s not an original insight to consider New Left politics as a replacement of class politics with affirmative-action programmes for and by the elite. If anyone else has dissected this in more detail please point me in their direction; I spend most of my time wiping a toddler’s arse and cooking meals for the family so don’t have time to research this in the depth it deserves. I’m just going to list a few of the commonly heard tenets of the social justice gospel and then look at the (usually heavily deprecated and often ferociously silenced) critiques of those positions.

  • Open borders are a good thing
  • White privilege and racism are endemic and inescapable
  • Sexual harassment is the gravest issue facing women today
  • Feminism must include and make space for men who say they are women
  • All social justice issues are inextricable from all other social justice issues

I’ll probably look back on this piece in due course and wince, because I can see that some of the thinking needs sharpening yet. But I have limited time to write so I’m just going to plough on and hope for the best. Please consider this a kind of brain dump, feel free to ask difficult questions or point me in the direction of anyone thinking more clearly about it. Anyway, here are some thoughts about the ways in which social justice ideology works particularly well as a form of class-inflected self-interest for the new aristocracy, while presenting itself as the exact opposite.

Open borders are a good thing: Diversity is good. White cultures are crusty, ageing and colonial and benefit from being enriched. We deserve to share our wealth with people from the rest of the world especially as we stole it all from them to begin with. Multiracial societies are intrinsically fairer and better. There’s no such thing as an illegal human. We should dissolve selfish, insular, racist nation states into a global melting pot of free movement and watch justice blossom.

Okay, but what about the working class critique of free movement? Routinely smeared  by our top 10% via the cultural mechanisms over which they have near-total control as simple xenophobia, the working class critique of free movement has little to do with racism and everything to do with bargaining power. Put simply, the more people competing for a low-skill job, the lower the wage the worker can command. This is simple economics. So when the top 10% (which runs the country as well as the media through which that country talks to itself) changes the rules so that country sees a rapid growth in the number of low-skilled workers via immigration, are they doing it in order to enrich the culture, or to depress the cost of hiring plumbers, electricians and nannies while pushing up the scarcity value of the home they bought before the migration boom? Beneath the high-minded talk of diversity sits a hard backbone of supply and demand economics that looks suspiciously, on closer inspection, like a consolidation of class interests.

White privilege and racism are endemic and inescapable

My understanding of the position taken by Candace Owens and others is that by entrenching a victimhood narrative within black communities this worldview serves not to free black people  but to perpetuate their immiseration, by treating it as immanent and inescapable.

If one considers black people, like women, less as an identity and more as an economic (class) group it’s clear that they are vastly more likely to belong to the 90% than to the 10%. (This also goes for single mothers, by the way). So why not come up with a way of feeling aggrieved on behalf of black people, while also encouraging those black people who don’t belong to the aristocracy to believe themselves incapable of changing their circumstances? Those affirmative action programmes created by well-meaning social entrepreneurs to bridge the gap created by this pervasive state of racism and white supremacy can then also be usefully applied to other members of the 10% – that is, to black people who are already wealthy – thus ensuring moral credentials are burnished without compromising the impermeability of the aristocracy.

In other words, by refocusing the anger of the masses away from issues of class to issues of race, you can ensure ‘representation’ by ethnic minorities within the upper caste and call this ‘social justice’, all the while foreclosing the space for discussing whether the increasingly drastic cleavage between the upper caste and the rest of us is truly the way things should be.

Sexual harassment at work is the gravest issue facing women today

Unless you live in a pretty rarefied world this is just self-evidently untrue. Elsewhere in the world women are raped when they sneak away from work in the fields to take a shit, or have their organs of sexual pleasure cut off as precondition of anyone being able to sell them off to an older husband. How is this not a more important issue facing women today? But instead we amplify the noise about how a movie producer once said something a bit iffy over lunch, or a magazine editor may or may not have touched someone’s bottom during a late-evening meeting, while looking sideways and wringing our hands while mumbling about ‘culture’ while girls and young women are taken overseas to have their genitals sliced with an un-sterile razor or to be forced into sexual servitude, destined forever to obey the every command of a cousin whose language they don’t share.

I can only conclude that this is taking place because the people who lead the narratives on what feminism is aren’t generally the same ones at the sharp end of what life looks like when feminism isn’t in the picture. Nimco Ali is an honourable exception, and there are many others, but there’s still an overwhelming sense of nervous recoil by much of mainstream – that is, socially acceptable – feminism from any willingness to tackle any issue that might be complicated by the ever more baroque dance of identity politics.

Perhaps the most egregious of these turnings-aside exists in the determination of Polite Feminism to ignore the absurd demand of males who wish to wear dresses and behave in a feminine manner to be treated as in every way indistinguishable from biological women. I’ve given that a separate heading though, so let me return to sexual harassment at work. In practice, this serves to create a kind of wilful blindness to the innumerable issues that might be tackled by a feminism that emerged from poor women with jobs, rather than wealthy ones with careers. What might those issues be? We don’t know, because no-one ever gets to hear. I suspect it would focus more on how the buggering hell anyone is supposed to care for vulnerable and dependent loved ones while keeping body and soul together – not on whether or not someone once called you ‘darling’ by the watercooler.

Trans women are women: On the surface, this one seems like a social justice no-brainer. People should be radically free to be whatever they wish to be, right? So if a male bodied person identifies as a woman, he should be recognised as such. It’s a simple issue of social justice, the next frontier in the civil rights movement, a fundamental step to ensure a vulnerable group is protected from abuse at the hands of violent and bigoted men.

But in practice, encoding the nostrum ‘Trans women are women’ in law means the effective legal abolition of biological sex. Now, that doesn’t impact all that much on people at the top but makes things disproportionately worse for women further down the food chain: imprisoned women, abused women in shelters. Women on hospital wards. Suddenly the statutory requirement to keep such spaces penis-free vanishes. Along with the abolition of sex goes any meaningful way of describing sex discrimination; if men can also breastfeed, how is discrimination against breastfeeding mothers in the workplace about sexism? And above all it renders invisible once again the labour that is fundamentally women’s – childbirth and childrearing – because it can no longer be named as a property of women. We can continue to shrug our shoulders at the dilemmas of people who want to work part-time and care for children; that’s not a women’s issue. Nor is miscarriage care. Nor is domestic violence.

And don’t be fooled into thinking that just because something is now a ‘people issue’ rather than a ‘women’s issue’ it will rise in status, because ‘after all men get pregnant too’. You only have to look at the way biological-males-who-say-they-are-women get lauded for career achievements, while biological-females-who-say-they-are-male get lauded for having babies, to realise that this brave new world of supposed gender neutrality retains the same physiological, sexually dimorphic fundamentals as the previous one where we knew what ‘men’ and ‘women’ meant, and all the same rules of sexism still apply. Only now we don’t have words for them any more.

This works as an Anywhere power move because as everyone secretly knows, and no-one really wants to acknowledge, if all the little women – you know, the fat ugly ones who work in the care industry and live in shitty little houses somewhere you’d want to drive through as fast as possible – stopped doing what women everywhere have always done the entire social fabric would collapse. Too much consciousness-raising is a bad thing. So instead, keep it contained. Divert attention from anything that might entail looking too seriously and critically at the way the mass of ordinary women are asked to live. Focus on something that sounds inclusive, kind and sort of ‘feministy’, imposes precisely no costs on your social class and in the process conveniently renders un-nameable a number of the lines of enquiry that might otherwise be pursued by feminists concerned with the mass rather than the elite.

All social justice issues are inextricable from all other social justice issues

The credo of ‘intersectionality’ has in effect consumed all the separate identity politics movements, through the simple medium of asserting that the more identities you have, the more oppressed you are – and (in the popular understanding at least) this functions as a simple points scheme.

(It’s worth noting at this point that socioeconomic class is not usually listed as an Oppressed Identity, despite the transparent persistence of class snobbery even in our supposedly enlightened times. I’m not talking about people like Jacob Rees-Mogg either, I’m talking about – for example – those who sneer at poor people for making political choices that militate against Anywhere class interests).

The identities that do count in the points schemes are all ones that are as available to the wealthy as they are to the poor. Race; transgender identification; religious faith (unless it’s Jewish or Christian); all these are popularly considered axes of oppression. Oppression, we are to infer, happens just as much to the very rich as to the very poor, as long as they are black, Muslim, transgender or whatever. (Indeed, one might be forgiven for thinking that the most vocal Oppressed Identities are in fact the ones dealing with issues that no-one but the relatively privileged has time to consider, such as ‘Am I non-binary, demiboy or transmasculine?’.) Further, because all social justice issues are inextricable from each other, and ‘intersectionality’ is a totalising doctrine, to demur on any given point either regarding the points system or any of the maxims it promotes renders one excommunicate from the congregation.

This works both to muffle dissent and also to provide an unassailable vantage point and moral high ground from which to attack anyone who objects, for any reason, to any part of the belief system – which, coincidentally, is likely to include many of the people whose class interests are less well-represented by the belief system than your own. And not only can you mobilise people advocating for the social justice issue against which dissent has been voiced, but because of the doctrine of inextricability the rest of the faithful must join in excommunicating the heretic as well.

So taken in its entirety, the social justice form of identity politics (as distinct from that variety, founded on a presumption of Christian/humanist universals, expressed in – for example – the work of Martin Luther King) operates both to articulate the class interests of the new elite, and also in important ways to create a bulwark against competing articulations of class interest, be they black, working-class or female. ‘

Diversity’ functions as an overarching political system and means of distributing resources and power (as set out with blistering clarity in Ben Cobley’s book The Tribe) and also as a means of exerting downward pressure on the wages of the servant class. At the same time, the elite drive to introduce transience into working-class communities serves to degrade the interpersonal systems of solidarity and mutual assistance, grounded in place and relatively stable social values and population, which have traditionally served the poor in place of the financial resources needed to buy in services such as childcare or help for the elderly.

Meanwhile, feminism focuses on the fine points of sexual behaviour in mixed-sex workplaces with desk jobs, at the expense of thornier issues thrown up by – for example – the introduction to our society, via the promotion of that other social justice credo ‘diversity’, of cultures with traditions radically at odds with feminism. The focus on sexual mores serves as a kind of displacement activity, expelling difficult (and in other countries indisputably feminist) issues not immediately pertinent to the elite from feminism into the realm of the ‘far right’. (Because let’s face it, it’s not elite Muslim migrants who are sending their teenage daughters overseas for a forced marriage, it’s the working class ones). It also helps to obscure or banish matters that might otherwise fall into the domain of feminism but are principally working-class issues, such as the many less well-off women who wish they could spend less time at their job and more time with their children, but cannot afford to do so; or the difficulty of creating those local support networks so essential to surviving life with dependent family members, when the culture as a whole considers the labour force as a mass of entirely mobile individuals with no need or desire for local connections, and actively encourages working-class neighbourhoods to become more, not less transient. And just in case the lot of women who can’t buy in the services displaced by the decline in stable communities is not challenging enough, social justice will assert further that not only are sexual mores more important than any other issue to feminism, but that being a woman has no biological component, and therefore women’s refuges, prisons and swimming pool changing rooms should henceforth be effectively sorted by each individual’s inner sense of gender rather than by biological sex. Further again, the entire domain of difficulties encountered by women as a function of being the sex that gestates, bears and nurses children is no longer a women’s issue, because men also have babies, so stop talking about it. And, finally, any critique of any of these matters from the perspective of non-Anywhere class interests will result in your excommunication. If that isn’t starting to smell a lot like class warfare, I’m not sure what is.

 

Why transactivists will fail, like Remain (but may yet succeed like Remain, too)

Why votes at 16 would be terrible for democracy

I am pleased to see the Conservative Party has used an arcane bit of filibustering to scotch Labour’s latest attempt to extend the franchise to 16-year-olds.

It is not immediately clear why the Labour Party is making so much of extending the franchise below 18, though a cynic might point to the idealism of youth and the overwhelmingly left-wing politics of the educational establishment which young people are now legally obliged to continue encountering until the age of 18. But it should not be permitted to happen.

If you look at the people who advocate for votes at 16, they are invariably well-insulated from the consequences of bad politics. Teenagers typically live with their parents and do not pay tax (or certainly the kind of teenager who gets het up about the franchise is unlikely to be already in work and living independently) and as such have relatively little stake in the hard consequences that result from a general election, except at one remove via their parents.

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The kind of teenager who gets passionately het up about politics and wants to vote

Along with the kind of teenager who gets passionately het up about politics as a kind of abstract and vehicle for high-minded ideals (see illustrative example above), and who has little skin in the game as he or she does not yet pay tax or incur adult responsibilities, the other kind of voice calling to extend the franchise is a certain kind of career politician. Such people are insulated from the consequences of bad politics by an influential network, a good salary and plenty of job opportunities should he or she be voted out. For career politicians advocating the policy, extending the franchise is either a kind of grandstanding (you could call it attempting to cling to the coattails of the Pankhursts perhaps) or (whisper it) perhaps a cynical attempt to recruit an extra 1.5 million voters with little life experience and, it is presumed, in the main quite left-wing ideals.

The problem is that these two groups busy trying to tamper with the franchise, at little personal cost to themselves, are trivialising it in the process. Voting seems trivial to them, because the outcome of general elections don’t change much for them. But regular adult voters, who pay tax or receive benefits, drive on the roads, have to navigate the healthcare etc etc, voting is one of the few real and substantive levers available to make a meaningful impact on the direction of the country. Extending the franchise to children too young to drive, to end their education legally or to live independently without their parents’ permission would confirm the already pervasive suspicion that no serious decision is ever put to the electorate in case they make the wrong choice. (The EU referendum is the single, wonderful, accidental exception to that rule, for which the political class will never forgive David Cameron.)

In the aftermath of the Brexit vote we have a chance to return politics to the people and away from the stifling consensus that has deadened political engagement since the end of the Cold War. As Sam Hooper puts it

for too long Britain has been run by cautious, unambitious identikit drones who nominally belong to Team Red or Team Blue but ultimately hold the same basic worldview and seek to inch us incrementally toward their shared vision of the future, without even thinking to meaningfully consult with the people or explain their actions.

The electorate rejected that consensus, decisively. In Robert Peston’s words, the electorate threw all the cards up in the air because it was our only chance to do so. We have a chance now to return democracy to something in which voters have an impact – an end to consensus politics, a chance to put all the options back on the table, to return to politics red in tooth and claw. But for that to happen, politics has to be the preserve of grownups. I don’t buy this idea that minors should have a say too, because they will live with the consequences longer. If that were the case, my 14-month-old toddler should also have a vote, and hers should count more than the teenager’s since after all she is going to live with the consequences longer. Right?

No. You have to draw a line, and anyone who has spent any time talking to 16-year-olds (the normal sort, not the sort that makes speeches at Labour Party conferences) knows that even 18 is pushing it and 16 is just silly. Unless, that is, you intend for voting to be a kind of decorative ritual on top of a technocratic politics that continues along the path its mandarins consider best regardless of which team is notionally in power. In that case, it makes very little difference whether teenagers vote or not, because it makes very little difference if any of us do. But if we want to preserve voting as something that can obtain a meaningful result, on topics that matter, it should not be the preserve of children.

Why have both left and right abandoned the working class? Simple – they don’t need them any more

In a Quillette article about universal basic income and the risk of tyranny, Shai Shapira makes a highly plausible case that political participation develops in direct proportion to the need a state has for its citizens:

We don’t have to go back to ancient history to see this trend – these days we have many countries in the world whose incomes are based on extracting resources from the ground, requiring little to no participation from the common people. Which countries are functioning democracies, and which are autocracies? The World Bank gives us a list of countries ordered by what percentage of their merchandise exports comes from fuels. At 50% or more we find, in this order: Iraq, Angola, Algeria, Brunei, Kuwait, Azerbaijan, Qatar, Saudi Arabia, Kazakhstan, Russia, Oman, Norway, Colombia, Bolivia and Bahrain. Can we notice a trend? How many of these countries provide a good set of political rights for their citizens?

This should not be surprising. This pattern is not often discussed, as it conflicts the image we like to have of political rights as being the result of enlightenment and struggle, of the heroes of our past who overthrew despotic regimes and created a better world for everyone. But reality, unfortunately, seems more cynical than that. We do not get our rights because we deserve them, or even because we fight for them – we get our rights because the government needs us. It is a common hope that countries that escape poverty will move on to adopt democracy, and this indeed happened in some notable cases, like South Korea or Taiwan. But South Korea and Taiwan became rich from industry, which means their wealth came from the work of their citizens; meanwhile, Qatar or Angola became rich from natural resources, and their political situation became no better. A country that generates its wealth from its citizens has no choice but to keep those citizens happy, at least to some degree; a country that generates its wealth from oil wells, only needs to keep a handful of mercenaries happy as they guard the access to those wells.

The article is well worth a read. But for me it sparked off a connection with the strange phenomenon we live with nowadays, that of a Labour Party that gives voice to pretty much anyone except the labouring classes. Put simply, the working classes no longer have a major party giving them political representation because the state no longer needs them, and arguably has been working for some decades to ensure that continues to be the case.

Applying Shapira’s insights to the development of mass political participation in the UK, the hypothesis remains plausible. Despite some decades of suffragette agitation, it was not until 1918, when women began to be needed as participants in civic life to replace the men being shipped off to die en masse in the trenches of Europe, that the first women were enfranchised. What is less often remembered is that the same Act also enfranchised some 5 million non-property-owning men. The state needed these men and women – hey presto, improved political participation was the sweetener demanded by the masses in exchange.

Throughout the 19th and first part of the 20th centuries, the United Kingdom derived much of its wealth from manufacturing; the workers who staffed the factories were needed. The same period traces a trajectory of ever-growing mass political participation, and is often narrated as a moral development, a steady march towards enlightenment in the form of the universal franchise. But was it as much about the need to acknowledge reciprocity between the working masses and the political class? The extent to which workers were increasingly able to use the leverage their labour in industry collectively gave them, to demand political concessions from a previously patrician governing class, forms the history of the trade union movement and, from 1900 onwards, the Labour Party.

What followed from the end of World War II until the Winter of Discontent and subsequent election of Margaret Thatcher is, arguably, a tale of this leverage developing first into its strength, then beyond strength to complacency, hubris and stagnation. We all know the denouement, as rolling blackouts left swathes of the country reading by candlelight, rubbish lay uncollected in the streets and the Iron Lady declared ‘There is no alternative’ and deployed all the resources at her disposal to smash the unions. In her grim determination to rein in the unfettered power of trade unionism to bring the country to a standstill, she shuttered entire industries and impoverished vast swathes of the United Kingdom, changes still palpable (and, in parts of the country, unforgiven) today.

Thatcher moved deliberately to tilt the UK’s economy away from manufacturing and towards knowledge and services – notably financial services, the behemoth that now sits astride London, sucking in all cultural capital from the surrounding 300 miles as well as much of the world. That is, she restructured the entire British economy so that the state no longer needed the working classes as it had in the 19th and 20th centuries. Who knows whether she did this intentionally to reduce the workers’ leverage over the state, but that was the effect of the changes she wrought.

The consequence, nearly 40 years on from her first election victory, is that as the political classes’ dependence on a mass industrial workforce has waned, political parties on both left and right are increasingly indifferent to their needs.

Indeed, Tony Blair’s decision in 2004 to open the UK borders to Eastern European EU accession countries meant that the working classes were needed even less than before. Where, a century previously, the supply of labour was relatively static and if the state wanted to ask something significant of the working masses then political sweeteners were needed in exchange, now in the days of free movement it didn’t even matter if the indigenous working classes withheld their labour, as employers would just import replacements from the EU!

Thus was the bond of reciprocity broken between the state and the working classes. Commentators on both right and left now agree – as do the statistics and Labour’s own data – that Labour is now firmly a party of the middle class. Indeed, there is a distinct whiff around much of the left these days of disgust at the working class, as Brendan O’Neill never tires of pointing out.

It is no wonder that Labour ceased to see its role as representing the interests of those workers: they had nowhere else to go and would probably continue to vote Labour, so could be taken for granted. The result has been a hollowed-out Labour Party, reduced from a grand coalition of middle-class socialists and working-class firebrands to a kind of well-off clerisy, shy of talking about class but ever so keen to tell you what to think. Ultimately, it has led us to Jeremy Corbyn, a man who speaks entirely to and for the middle classes (free university tuition fees is the sort of outrageous middle-class bung that the Tories would be pilloried for) but does so in a strange, stylised parody of the 1970s, the last days of the trade union Raj.

The only difference between left and right on this front, today, is the consensus on how large the welfare-state bung should be to buy off now politically-irrelevant class. Stereotypically, the Conservatives believe the working masses should be handed free money, buck up, get jobs, pay taxes and become needed by the state so they can participate politically; this view is indifferent to any barriers to doing so. In contrast, Labour believes this class should be treated with patrician generosity, and handed as much free money as necessary to keep them quiescent. In practice, both sides operate the same welfare system, with minor tweaks at the edges blown up by the Westminster bubble into giant ideological differences.

So what is to become of the working masses now? What chance of reclaiming representation? Movements come and go that seek to represent working-class interests: Britain First, the EDL, the Football Lads’ Alliance. Such movements are generally demonised as ‘far-right’ by the chattering classes; and (with the exception of the mass working-class vote to leave the European Union) these movements are largely cultural rather than political, pushing back less against contemporary politics than incursions by foreigners, or political correctness, or other manifestations of the elite’s vision of the good life. If Shapira’s formulation holds good, the masses will have little success in reclaiming political representation until they are actually needed again by the state that governs them. And in a world of increasing robotisation which, instead, proposes to make an ever-greater proportion of the population unnecessary to a state’s prosperity, that seems a prospect both distant and, in its profound implications for the health of our democracy, deeply worrying.

May’s retail offer disappoints on all levels

Theresa May’s big conference announcement for the day was…wait for it…extra dosh for Help to Buy.

Great. Fantastic. Muted applause.

The announcement disappoints, on so many levels.

Level one: it’s a stupid policy that will make the situation it proposes to ameliorate worse. Why is there a crisis in the first place? Housing prices are too high. What happens when you increase demand (give more young people the means to buy) without increasing supply accordingly? Prices go up. It’s barely even a sticking plaster on an endemic problem that will take a degree of political boldness undetectable in this government.

Level two: it’s weak and calculating, and trying not to look that way. The Tories are in a bind, because no-one young votes Tory. To entice more young voters their way, they need to do something to help more young people become the property-owning middle classes that traditionally vote Tory. That means building enough houses to keep prices stable or encourage them to fall. But on the other hand, housebuilding on that scale will annoy the older people who like the countryside as it is, and who see the rising value of their home as a nest egg. These are people who already reliably vote Tory. So, May must choose whether to protect the interests of the Tories’ core vote or risk alienating this core vote in order to appeal to another demographic that may or may not be swayed by her efforts. She has tried to square this circle, with a policy that will enable more young people to get a toe on the housing ladder, while ignoring the need to increase supply; her policy will thus avoid too much desecration of the sacred Green Belt and continue to drive up house prices, hopefully keeping the core Tory vote on board. Everyone wins, right? Except it’s a stupid policy that just defers the fundamental problem, which is either too few houses or too many people. She must know well that this is the case but lacks the clout, the boldness or perhaps the vision to do more than paper over the cracks and try to keep these competing interests onside.

Level three, and fundamentally, this policy disappoints because it’s such a sad capitulation to the bland, vision-less, tinkering-with-the-dials modern politics of ‘me, me, me’. What will the government do for me? What about my interests? Sod the country, I’m voting for whoever has the best deal for me. Forget having a vision and trying to govern in the national interest. Forget trying to carry the people with you when you do so. Ignore the big questions, fiddle with this tax or that incentive, try and triangulate for as many selfish subsets of the demos as you can isolate.

Whatever what your views on Brexit, it is clear that many people voted Leave knowing full well it was likely to result in an economically bumpy ride but believing that leaving was in the national interest regardless. By and large it was a vote that rejected the selfish nest-feathering insularity of retail politics in favour of a bigger vision. In uncertain times, faced with many competing narratives to explain ever more unpredictable outcomes, the Brexit vote spoke of a people – 52% of them, anyway – looking for a politics that is more about vision than retail offers. Arguably the popularity of Corbyn’s unaffordable promises speaks to the same impulse. But has May sensed the national hunger for vision and boldness in politics? Has she fuck. After her disastrous attempt at grasping nettles in the national interest – the so-called ‘dementia tax’, a genuinely bold and progressive effort to stop kicking the pretty troubling can of elderly care down the road – she has retreated from the big picture into the horse-trading politics of buying off this or that demographic.

What the Conservatives need is a leader with the courage and vision to make a clear case for tackling the country’s vested interests and getting the political consent for this by inspiring political solidarity. In the case of housing that means getting the NIMBYs to accept that they have to choose between keeping their pretty view at the expense of a thriving community, or letting development happen so their children can afford to buy in the area. We need someone who can speak to the whole country and draw out a sense of solidarity, of being willing to compromise so that the country overall can thrive.

The Conservatives were once able to find the kind of language to capture that kind of purpose and collective endeavour. Sadly, though, Mrs May has shrunk from the task in hand and I don’t see any likely successor who strike me as more plausible. So instead we get a shit policy that aims to buy off one group while keeping another pacified. A policy, and a party, that utterly fails to meet the mood of the times but instead harks back to the selfish, narcissistic politics of the ‘End of History’ post-Cold War era. A policy and party that resolutely refuses to acknowledge the fact that history has come roaring back, and that our current elected representatives are painfully, woefully not up to the job of dealing with it.