Showing posts with label Current Affairs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Current Affairs. Show all posts

10 Sept 2016

Yes, Prime Minister

Hello readers!

My previous posts were concerned with the state of my upcoming novel, the Ark, as well as my experiences here in Amsterdam. This post is not about that; there is little to add so far. It is instead about a matter that I will still occasionally address here on the Magical Realm—that of British politics.

I have devised a hypothesis: the more I analyse British politics, the stranger it all seems. I liken it to an addiction; it fascinates me to no end. Anyway, the topics I will be addressing here are threefold. Firstly—the Brexit. (This is obviously the overarching factor behind a lot of this, and it will likely remain an issue for many years to come.) Secondly—the Labour leadership. And finally, May’s plans to bring back the grammars.

The Brexit

These past few weeks have seen three important, if unsurprising, announcements. We firstly know that May’s Cabinet is divided and does not know exactly what it wants from the negotiations (let alone how to achieve it).

Secondly, we have learnt that the US is prioritising trade discussions with the EU before the UK. (Suck it up, Brexiteers.) And thirdly, the Japanese government has published an open letter from its business leaders warning that Japanese companies in the UK—like Nissan—will ‘reconsider their investments’ (i.e. leave) if the UK does not maintain single market access.

So what’s the outlook on all this? It looks rather dim from where I’m standing. The naive amongst us may think this will provoke May (if not the Brexiteers, whose delusion is without bounds) to make keeping the UK’s single-market access a priority. But I do not believe this is the case; May has been adamant that ‘Brexit means Brexit’.

What precisely this means if not entirely clear, but it’s safe to assume it will involve some sort of migration controls—and by implication curtailed access to the single market.

From what I’ve seen, a lot of commentators—and it seems some Tories—believe that May is a secret Remainer: that her appointments of BoJo, Foxy and Davey (collectively, the three Brexiteers—like from Musketeers, you know?) are really just a clever ruse to abrogate political responsibility when the negotiations inevitably fail to deliver on the Brexiteers’ insouciant fantasy. Giving them rope to hang themselves with, so to speak.

This may sound plausible, but I don’t find it particularly credible. For me, the skepticism stems from what I know of Theresa May’s personality. She’s not the quiet, sensible and competent woman she likes to pretend she is. Her support for Remain, if we recall, was lukewarm at best.

Rather, what I see in Theresa is Cruella. As Home Secretary, she was involved in many questionable deportations—and was held in contempt of court for one of those deportations (Wikipedia, ‘Deportation decisions’). She planned to introduce a £37,000 a year salary requirement for non-EU immigrants, putting many NHS nurses at threat of deportation. She refused to grant asylum to a Nigerian lesbian who faced serious danger back home. (Telegraph) And—she was a proponent for scrapping the Human Rights Act, something which she can now do outside the EU.

Her support for Remain may have been entirely politically expedient (Cameron was pro-EU after all, and she was a senior figure in the Cabinet). Or, barring that, we can at least say that it was a reluctant position born of political realism.

So in light of this, I see the following scenario as being most probable. Firstly, after a delayed and protracted period, May invokes Article 50; in the negotiations, she and her Brexiteers argue for a cap on migration, but the EU refuses. ‘Free movement or WTO’ is the EU’s position.

So, May pulls the UK out of the EU, and loses access to the Common Market. Not long after, the UK will see recession, followed by stalled growth. The SNP call a referendum, and Scotland leaves the UK in order to keep its place in Europe.

As for the rest... I can only speculate at this point. But I doubt it will be pretty.

Labour Leadership

The other big thing going on is of course the leadership contest. In about two weeks, voting will have closed and we will discover who is leader of the Labour party.

I have already made clear my support for Smith in previous posts, and indeed—I’ve already voted for him. I will therefore address two things here. Firstly, what is the nature of the support for Corbyn—and can Smith win? Secondly, if Corbyn does win, what will happen next?

With regards to Corbyn’s support, I think it is fair to say Corbynism is one of the most misunderstood political phenomena in British history. The commentariat are dreaming about a revived British Trotskyism. Even his own MPs don’t understand the nature of his support—cue Tom Watson’s conspiracy theory about ‘old hands twisting young arms’.

Let’s make this clear: there’s a lot I don’t like about Corbyn’s movement (and for good reason) but Corbynism is not some conspiracy by entryist Trots and Tories. The number of Tories that voted in the leadership contest was vanishingly small. And I don’t believe there are enough Trots in this country to influence an electorate of 600,000.

Rather, Corbyn’s base is made up of what I see as two similar, though distinct, support groups. The first is an influx of generally young, idealistic and politically naive people. Some of them are ‘champagne socialists,’ but from my experience the majority are people who have been continually let down by successive governments: I’m talking about students with £27K of debt, young adults struggling to get on the housing market, and of course the numpties who are still banging on about Iraq.

The second group is made up of long-time Labour party members. I know some of them who voted for David Milliband in the leadership election. I know a lot of them who voted Tony Blair when he was standing for leadership.

The former group should not surprise you, but why, do you wonder, does Corbyn have support from the latter group? Surely, you would think, no one can vote for Blair and then for Corbyn!

Well, the reality in British politics is that electorates aren’t ideological: they judge political candidates not on whether they are socialist, Third Way liberal, or anything else. They judge them on the way the candidate can improve the country and their lives (as they judge it).

Tony Blair was seen as a charismatic and likable politician who beat the Tories. Ed Milliband was seen by many as a bit boring; there was little to recommend in him.

One thing that is true, however, is that the old guard of Corbyn supporters almost universally despise the Tony Blair of today. The Iraq war is a big reason for that, obviously; but just as importantly, I’ve found, were his failures to undo neoliberalism (it’s not stated like that, usually, but the angry words about unions and banks are getting at it) along with his craven support for dictators and big money.

The reason Corbyn appeals to them is twofold. To the young, he speaks a narrative that they have never heard: he speaks of undoing tuition fees, fighting against big business tax dodging, and bringing a brighter future to their cloudy prognosis. To the old, they see the antithesis of Blair: a man with integrity.

So, the million dollar question. Can Smith win them over?

On one level, it should be possible. Smith is compassionate as well as realistic; he understands why people are angry (just check out his plans to scrap tuition fees and help young people with housing) but he also knows that Corbyn is politically naive—his plans to scrap Trident being just one foolhardy example.

Smith is obviously more charismatic than Corbyn. In more normal circumstances, he should easily convince the young to vote for him.

So why aren’t the polls showing this? It’s to do with the circumstances of the leadership contest. Corbyn faced a vote of no-confidence and lost, with 80% (!) of his parliamentary colleagues saying they have no faith in him. Rational people would see this as enough reason to seriously question his role as leader; the fact that many in his Shadow Cabinet resigned, leaving him unable to fill all of the portfolios, should make Corbyn a laughing stock.

Don’t believe me? Just read the articles by Thangam Debonaire and Heidi Alexander. The picture they paint is sobering: Corbyn is incompetent, appointing and then sacking Debonaire without telling her (and while she was getting treatment for cancer!), and repeatedly undermining S. Cabinet positions on air.

But Corbyn’s backers drew the opposite conclusion from these facts. To them, Debonaire and Alexander were dangerous Blairites—not ordinary Labour MPs—determined to backstab the Great Leader and undermine his Holy Mission. (I am exaggerating here, but only a little.)

Owen Smith they saw as a false socialist, a conjuring by the Blairite devils to sway the people from the true path. His policies and ideas could not be genuine, they reasoned. His dealings with Pfizer were proof of that. (By that account, Clement Attlee could not have been a socialist, because he was an aristocrat. In real life, of course, things are more complicated than that.)

I’m not saying Smith is perfect; he has flaws just like anyone else. But I believe the anger and hope that drove people to Corbyn has morphed into something more sinister: a kind of paranoia, so typical of the far left, coupled with a misty eyed appreciation of Corbyn.

Corbyn, it seems, is immune from rational criticism. In my logic classes, we would call it the fallacy of ‘Ad hominem: poisoning the well’. In other words, anyone who criticises Corbyn must be some sort of Blairite/Red Tory/backstabber.

So, personally, I don’t think Smith will win.

But if so, what do we do? Do we united behind Corbyn—and pretend all of this sort of never happened? Do we try and get rid of him through underhand means, with the threat of forming a new party?

Like Smith, I think the latter is a bad idea. Corbyn and McDonnell—along with the Progress rump—are both crazy enough to not stand down, and to actually split. That would be disastrous.

So, we get behind Corbyn. We go along with his policies; we stop penning nasty articles in the rightwing press. (That includes you, Simon Danczuk.) We try and do our best in his incompetent Shadow Cabinet. If Corbyn fails to win the general election, it would be on his account—not ours.

Grammar Grammar

Let us move away from Labour’s internecine conflict, and onto a recent policy unveiled by the dear Theresa.

I am of course talking about the (re) introduction of the grammar school. It is currently a topic of great debate among the commentariat; her political motives are being extensively scrutinised.

I’m not going to pay much attention to that. My intention here is only to consider the grammar school on the basis of its merit, as someone who has been to both a grammar school and a comprehensive.

You know what I think? The grammar school is not such a great idea. I am unconvinced by the claim that grammar schools improve the outcomes of the children who are selected into it (compared to a comprehensive); this is partly due to a lack of convincing statistical evidence, but also because of personal experience.

I was successful academically in my comprehensive. I got very high grades in maths and sciences; I had a strong interest in writing and reading, which the school library was able to suffice (for the most part).

Smart children in comprehensives are not forced to learn with the idiots; in my school, we separated the more academically able children into sets 0 and 1, and the less able going up the sets, until you hit set 6. (The children there were mentally disabled, or had alcoholic parents.)

You might argue that this just selection under a different system. Well yes; that’s the point. Selection in a grammar school is the very worst kind of selection. It happens at age 11; it leaves late developers behind. It places a lot of stress on primary-school age children. And, since the children are not adults and have no motivation of their own, it is basically a measure of how much money the parents put into tutoring their kid.

But that’s not the worst of it. The test is far from infallible; it is not only vulnerable to the efforts of tutors, but it actually requires tutoring. I—who got 12 GCSEs, mainly As and As, am attending a top 100 world university, got poetry published *and wrote a book at 15—failed the 11+! My parents, who are mathematicians, struggled with the so-called ‘non verbal reasoning’.

To top it all off, once the tutoring got you through the 11+, you were thrown into a bubble. Nearly everyone is middle class. You don’t interact with people from different social backgrounds; people who are poor, whose parents are very unlike yours, and who seem to be very different from you.

So you see, getting selected into a grammar school is not necessarily that good for you.

Nor is it any good for the people who don’t get selected: they go to a comprehensive where much of the talent has been creamed off. While enough bright kids usually remain in order to form a class, I do believe that since the majority of the kids are lower down the academic and social pecking order, they—the poor kids—also live in a sort of bubble. They don’t see that much of the bright kids (which are a minority), and think that getting a couple of Cs and Ds at GCSE is somehow acceptable. Their friends did the same, right?

Closing Thoughts

I have written quite enough on British politics for now. I will address it in future, but for now I have work to do on the Ark. Wish me luck. And if you haven’t already, consider signing up to the mailing list.

20 Jan 2016

Musings on Corbyn, and Other Dubious Matters

Hail readers!

Previously, I wrote an essay excoriating Conservatism; you can read it here, but in short: I argued that Conservatism made a number of questionable economic assumptions that ultimately rendered Conservatism both incapable of meeting its stated objectives, and self-contradictory.

Today I shall share with you a few musings, some on that contentious political figure. These shall be rather more lighthearted than my essay—if you thought it too dense, consider reading this.

Anyway: without further ado, let’s delve into a few more blunders, successes, and nonsense.

Scurrilous Media Nonsense

Our first order of the day concerns certain dubious things that have been said about our dear JC. This sneering, fatuous diatribe from Rafael Behr, over at the Guardian, is perhaps one of the more egregious pieces early in the week.

Take this little gem:

That is not a description recognised by MPs who are trying, and mostly failing, to resist the new regime’s sharp leftward turn.

Or this:

If the moderates are over-thinking the actions of their tormentors, it is compensation for the complacent decade of not taking the left seriously. Under New Labour, the perpetually rebellious fringe was more indulged than persecuted. Tony Blair and Gordon Brown were confident enough of their victory over the old dogmas that the remaining believers were treated with a kind of tolerant disdain; like ageing specimens of a ferocious but endangered species, harmless in the care of professional handlers and unlikely to breed in the wild.

Behr firstly begins by naming Corbyn’s opponents as ‘moderates’—presumably one must therefore deduce that Corbyn and his supporters are some sort of extremists.

Which, of course, is total nonsense. Not only are the moderates not moderate at all—unless you count leaving disabled people to fend for themselves later rather than sooner a form of moderate social democracy—but nor can it be said that Corbyn is some sort of ‘ferocious endagendered species’.

On the contrary: it seems the species is very much thriving. As I’ve written previously, Corbyn’s policies are so extreme as to be popular not only with his party, but also with the wider electorate. That’s right: unlike Rafael Behr’s spurious assertions, professional polling companies, when interviewing real life people (as opposed to those in the Westminister bubble) find that people want to nationalise railways, want to increase the minimum wage to £10, and support rent controls.

I’m also amused at how Behr thinks Corbyn’s election—one of the most democratic ever undertaken in a British political party—constitutes a ‘regime’. Perhaps he does not have so strong a grasp of history as he seems to believe.

Leaving aside the dubious polemics of journalists, let us turn our attention to another order of the day: the Cabinet reshuffle.

Cabinet Appointments, and Other Difficult Matters

Corbyn has also been criticised for his actions regarding the Cabinet make-up. Although Hilary Benn remains shadow foreign secretary—not even having been moved to a less contentious role; a remarkable display of tolerance from JC considering their opposing positions in the Syria debate—the media has nevertheless attacked Labour for being ‘in chaos over nuclear weapons’.

The trouble is, you see, parties disagree all the time. This is especially true of broad church British political parties. It is perfectly reasonable for a leader who has considerable support from party members to change the composition of the Shadow Cabinet if he so deems fit—particularly if certain members are proving recalcitrant and difficult.

In fact, from what I can see, Corbyn’s reshuffle is very sensible. He has sacked Pat McFadden—fairly, in my view, considering his actions—and replaced his anti-Trident defence minister, Maria Eagle, with someone more amenable. Maria Eagle, however, has become shadow culture secretary.

The media has nevertheless been furious with the whole thing. It does make me wonder: how many British political leaders are there who would keep an MP in the Shadow Cabinet, despite major disagreement on said leader’s life-long political goal? Tony Blair, for those who still cite him as a paragon of unity and electability, would have sacked an MP from the Cabinet over such a disagreement. By any reasonable appreciation, Corbyn is nothing if not tolerant.

Finishing Thoughts

I have indulged my musings for long enough. Clearly the media despises Corbyn, and does everything it can to discredit him.

So, to finish, let me address a different matter entirely: the Ark. Although my progress has been marred by impromptu car crashes, I have resumed work. I am now on chapter Seventeen; over 235 pages have been written.

I am also, as of today, eighteen.

So: wish me happy birthday. And now, allow me to resume my efforts in the Ark. It is good, methinks, to start one’s eighteenth year with work on a grand and ambitious project. Don’t you agree?

12 Jan 2016

2016 in the Magical Realm

Hail readers!

With the advent of the new year, I have decided to update you both on my personal situation, and on the plans determined for the Magical Realm in 2016.

Firstly, I am back in England once more. My foray to the Schwarzwald over (it having been otherwise pleasant if not for my unfortunate car accident) I am now back in school—and back to work. Although my A-levels do of course take up my time and efforts, I have nevertheless plans for 2016.

But before I go into that, why not take a look at my photos? I have taken photograhs of my skiing adventures; of an impressive cathedral I was fortunate enough to visit; and of the landscape of the Black Forest.

Now! Without further ado, here is a list of my goals for 2016 here on the Magical Realm:

  1. I am preparing an essay with Oli (on problems with Conservatism) and this I shall publish soon. It shan’t be my only political essay, of course, for the year; and hopefully Oli can join in others.
  2. I shall write more on current affairs.
  3. I shall continue writing the Ark. In fact: I may even decide to feature more chapters, particular scenes, and even feedback from early readers.
  4. The Magical Realm will, at some point, be getting an artistic make-over. The current ice-blue colour scheme (appropriate for the phantasmagoria of the Necromancer) shall be replaced by something more true to the Ark. Perhaps a Sci-Fi landscape will feature, or even—more boldy—something related to the protagonists’ romance. The Ark is a very blue novel in terms of landscape and phantasmagoria, however, and so it is possible the current ice-blue theme will be replaced only by an alternate sky-blue.
  5. Finally, I am considering extending the technical aspects of the Magical Realm to include a more dynamic interactive model as opposed to the current static one. Early plans include a home-page with a slideshow depicting various major posts (and comments) along with ‘news’ banner—to include e.g. where I am—as well as: a section of the blog where all book-related posts and published material are kept; a more interactive way to read and purchase my books; and even integration with social media.

Well, that’s it for now folks. Keep with me for my upcoming essay on Conservatism. And Happy New Year!

16 Dec 2015

Musings

Hail readers!

A number of changes have occurred in the blog since I last wrote on matters of philosophy. For one, there’s a new gadget on the side—it’s called ‘Featured Posts’ and it contains my most popular and/or well-regarded pieces written recently. The second addition is one of a new page: it’s called ‘Services’ and indeed, it concerns the paid services I have begun to offer.

I shan’t speak too much on this, except to say that—for a reasonable price—I will format and typeset any Word or LibreOffice document to either an eBook (available formats include EPUB, AZW3 and MOBI), a print-ready PDF, or both. If you’re interested, take a look.

You may be wondering why I’m doing this. Won’t it take up my time, you wonder? Well, fear not: I shan’t be taking too many projects on at once. And, to be frank, I do wish to make my own money.

Anyway: let’s leave such matters aside. Instead, we’ll focus on a few of my musings.

The Ark

Alas, I have not written a great deal more on the Ark since I last updated you. Currently, I am on Chapter Fourteen; I have a number of important plot elements coming up, and I feel a little… gridlocked. Such is the nature of writing.

Fortunately, I have just entered the winter holidays! This will, as you can imagine, give me a significant amount of time with which to play with—and first on the agenda is more work on the Ark. I shall be writing more of my experiences in creating it; and—there may be a sneak peek of some of the chapters.

On top of this, I am looking for some more beta-readers. Although one beta-reader—the mysterious Peter—has been quite helpful, there is nevertheless strength in numbers. There’s also good sense in having multiple opinions. So: if you do want to beta-read, email me at alexstargazerwriterextraordinaire AT outlook DOT com.

On a more tangential note, here’s a link to one of the songs I’ve found evocative of the Ark: Sunrise.

Ubuntu

Recently, I have upgraded my hardware through the installation of an SSD. On top of this, I have installed Ubuntu—the OS I recommend for all things writer-related. This has not been without difficulty, however. I struggled with a third-party driver for my USB wifi dongle; eventually, I figured to connect an ethernet cable from my wireless extender to my PC.

This solved most of my problems. The nVidia driver for my graphics card is the proprietary blob, and works well. I’ve even taken a liking to a particular game: SuperTuxKart. It is essentially a Linux-flavoured Mariokart. It’s rather good fun; but it’s also surprisingly taxing on my graphics card. Perhaps another upgrade is in order.

Besides that, I am trying to figure out which desktop environment works best for me. Unity, the default, is actually quite alright; it is aesthetically pleasing, reasonably customisable, and has some nice features like the Heads-Up Display. Nonetheless, I am not content. I don’t like its implementation of virtual workspaces, which are meant to aid multitasking when one has a large number of applications running.

I find Unity’s version problematic because it does not actually remove applications from the launcher (left), which therefore defeats the primary function of virtual workspaces.

I have tried Cinnamon, a more traditional interface, but it experiences a strange graphical bug that results in blurriness outside the mouse. Thus, I am now going to try Gnome.

Anyway: enough about this.

Politics

Since my usual politics piece was ditched in favour of a philosophy piece (on the basis of reader feedback), I’ve decided to write a little bit more on—you guessed it—Jeremy Corbyn. This will likely be my next post. I will address a few issues, chief among them: his ‘electability’ and analysis on various miss-steps and successes; his relationship with the media; and his chances of winning 2020.

Well, that about sums things up. I’ll be back soon—I do have a holiday...

8 Nov 2015

A Day of Musings

Hail readers!

As mentioned previously, my work concerning the Ark (my upcoming scifi novel extraordinaire) is progressing; today I have completed Chapter Nine, and will begin Chapter Ten. With the latter, part One—entitled Love—will have been completed. Read this if you are curious to know more, or check out the Upcoming page for more information in general.

Anyway: today I concern myself with a number of musings concerning political economy. Do read on...

A Question of Semantics

Certain people have complained that mine and Oli’s essay on Socialism takes a non-standard definition of ‘socialism’. Apparently, what we define as:

An economic system in which great need is provided for—such as to disabled people, or those left unemployed—and in which sectors of the economy are run by the state if it is in the public interest; but on in which, nevertheless, it is permissible to own private property and businesses provided that you act according to the law and the interests of the nation

Is supposedly what is called ‘welfare capitalism’. According to certain figures, ‘socialism’ is defined as an economic system in which all the means of production are owned by the state, but one in which private property exists.

Now: semantic debates often prove pointless. My green is your blue, as they say. Nevertheless, I must take issue with this; for, it seems to me, this is a covert attempt at discrediting our theories.

My objection with such a definition stems from two facts. Firstly, today’s self-described socialists don’t believe in that; and that’s as good a reason as anything. But secondly, the above definition appears to be completely untenable—inconceivable, even.

How can private property exist in a system in which all the means of production are state-run and state-controlled? Land is a means of production; without it, you can’t grow crops or build factories. So, supposedly, all land must be owned by the state.

Capital is essentially the product of stored resources. But capital is also the most important means of production there is; without it, you cannot build factories, start a business, employ people, or do anything else of economic value. And if people can own things, then they can amass capital; and so hold a stake in the means of producion.

So, you see, the above definition is complete nonsense.

There are in fact only three types of economic systems: market systems, in which everything is run by markets (excluding perhaps defence and the workings of government; capitalism); as well as command systems, which are essentially communism; and finally, there are mixed systems. Socialism.

Now, by this I should say: I don’t mean to say that socialism is just a mixed-market system. Nearly every country on Earth would be socialist by that measure.

No. I am instead referring to a very specific type of mixed market system: one in which need is accounted for; in which equal opportunity is granted, insofar as possible; in which excessive inequality is curtailed and reduced; and where the state has no fear to intervene on behalf of the common interest of its citizens, even if it contradicts the market dictat.

This definition, you shall notice, excludes a number of countries; whereas certain others fit it more or less. Saudi Arabia is not socialist. The US has elements of socialism (e.g. public schools, health and safety regulation) but is largely a laissez-faire capitalist system. France has a publicly run health system, schools, provides unemployment and disability benefits, and its railways are run by SNCF. It is a pretty good example of socialism.

A Globalisation Skeptic’s Take on the EU

Globalisation is a complicated problem; and it is problematic, that much can be said.

In a globalised world, a banking crash in the US can have worldwide ripples; a Chinese stock-market crash likewise; wealthy corporations and individuals can escape to tax havens, while still keeping their business operations running. Globalisation means sweatshops in China and African or South American farmers being paid pittance for their crops.

This is not to say that globalisation is not without advantages. You can’t grow bananas in the UK, for example. It provides efficiency benefits for certain companies, too: a maker of suncream can sell cream both summer and winter—to the Northern hemisphere in the former, and to the southern in the latter. So too can globalisation allow nations with particular advantages to specialise in doing what they do best.

You can buy cars from Germany, olives from Spain, and computers from the US. And so on.

Which all sounds great. But the worst effects of globalisation are, in fact, to do with the claim above. In theory—in that naïve universe—every nation sells what it does best, and buys everything else. Everyone trades equally. Everyone has a balanced current account.

Only, the real world doesn’t work like that. The UK has a trade deficit of around £20B right now, and has had as high as £30B (Trading Economics). China has a big surplus; so does Germany.

Nor is the trade deficit some abstract concept invented by economists. A trade deficit is the result of very real economic woes—as the workers of Redcar are discovering to their horror.

So what’s wrong with the theory? Many things, really, but the most important is this: it’s not a level playing field. Chinese workers are exploited with long hours, poor air quality, and very little safety; the Chinese government subsidies exporters, too, with the most galling example being its steel industry.

Germany has strong trade unions, safety laws, and unemployment benefits. It also has an excellent education system, with vocational qualifications being respected; along with well-developed, efficient road and rail links; and bosses that don’t look down their noses on the workers, since—like the new CEO of Volkswagen, Mathias Müller—they themselves were once workers.

So: the UK’s problems are self-inflicted to some degree, that’s true. Our financial speculation industry takes away talent from industry, and diverts capital away from businesses and into property bubbles and credit booms. Our unions are weak, and industrial co-operation is a pipe dream for many companies. And our contempt for vocational learning is world-famous.

But even so, there exist problems beyond our control. We have no control over working conditions in China, and the Chinese government is only too keen to devalue its currency and subsidise its exporters.

If we try to raise taxes on corporations, they move to Dublin. If we try to tax millionaires, they move to Switzerland. Globalisation is a powerful force, and one that, sadly, rarely acts in our best interests.

But why would I, a skeptic, support the EU?

The answer is simple. Europe is the counterpoise to unfettered globalised madness. The majority of our exports go to Europe (OEC) and likewise they are our major importers (ibid.)

The difference between trading with Europe, when compared to the rest of the world, is that we actually have say in what goes on in Europe—thanks to the EU. As part of the EU, we elect members to the European parliament; we are given veto rights, and can discuss matters with closely-aligned European heads of state. If somebody pulls a Chinese on us, we can do something about it.

Europe is also rather helpful when dealing with other nations. Europe is the world’s largest economy; it has a lot of clout in trade negotiations, and can haggle for favourable terms. On our own, we make up a fraction of that.

You see such examples when Europe haggles with the US, or negotiates favourable terms with Korea—both of which would have been harder nuts to crack without European unity.

Finishing Off

Apologies if my musings have been somewhat disorganised. I do, after all, have a book to write. Nevertheless, I hope my musings have enlightened you; and please do keep following. I shall be releasing more on the Ark...

4 Nov 2015

The Ark and Other Difficult Matters

As of late, dear reader, I have ceased to blog. This is unfortunate, but to some degree unavoidable: I was concerned both with my UCAS application—I am applying to a number of UK universities as a contingency plan—and also because A levels are a substantial endeavour. In particular, I have been quite busy with physics coursework.

I shan’t talk too much of such matters, for they are not the goal of the Magical Realm. What I shall say: I have decided to study PPE (politics, philosophy and economics) at university, due primarily to the fact that I enjoy all three subjects and cannot decide between them. Also, my interests in the Labour party would be well matched.

But onto the topic of this post. The Ark, my romantic scifi novel extraordinaire, has been steadily growing; I have finished writing chapter eight, and will soon have chapter nine written. With chapter ten, the first part of the book—entitled Love—will have been completed. There are two parts that will follow.

The first, entitled Life (perhaps ironically), shall concern itself with Conall and Casey’s struggle to survive. It will likely be of similar length to part one, or perhaps slightly longer. The final part, however, shall be entitled Fate; it shall be shorter, but will culminate with the end of the Ark.

If you are wondering ‘Will there be a sequel’ then I shall say this much: it is a real possibility.

With such detail aside, let us address some questions regarding part one. Or, indeed, the book in general.

Conall and Casey; Not Conall and Clara

This is almost without doubt the question that will trouble readers most of all. To put it crudely: why is it a gay novel?

The answer lies with three aspects. Firstly, the Ark was conceived with Conall and Casey—and in my conception, as you may know, I have no conscious hold. My ideas originate from some strange creative ether; from the part of my mind that sees beauty and wonder, and creates tales to behold.

It is true that the process of writing is also a conscious one, not merely a conduit for the unconscious. But it would be sheer folly to attempt to consciously alter such a key aspect of the novel: it could, in fact, destroy it.

Secondly, why would I even wish to change it? Their relationship is a beautiful one. And as they say: why fix what ain’t broke?

Finally: let’s talk politics. It is no secret that being gay was frowned upon in the Anglophone world, and indeed much of the rest of Europe, for some centuries. Not since forever, mind you—in Russia, Orthodox and patriarchal as it was, homosexuality was common and open since Ivan IV up to about the 19th century[1]; likewise it was spoken of in pre-mediaeval England, and in Ancient Greece Theba had an army division of male lovers [2]—but, by and large, it was taboo throughout the post-mediaeval world.

It was only since the 1967 that being gay was decriminalised in the UK. Gay marriage—which may perhaps be termed the ultimate acceptance—wasn’t made law since later into Cameron’s first term. That’s just two few years ago!

The gay equality movement has long since struggled with repudiating certain pernicious ideas about homosexuality. One such is the belief that gay people—men in particular—are promiscuous and not interested in monogamous, loving relationships. Another is the belief that gay people are somehow abnormal—pathologised, even.

But what better way to put these myths to rest, than by the very antithesis of all these pernicious stereotypes?

That said, don’t get the wrong idea. The Ark is not a polemic and is not created out of political desire; it is a story. A story with a very powerful tale to tell—and one that ultimately transcends mere politics.

Let’s Talk Scifi

The matter of creating a scifi world is a difficult one. Indeed, any kind of universe creation is a difficult proposition; but unlike, say, fantasy worlds—a scifi world is yet bound by the laws of physics as we currently understand them.

This provides both challenges and opportunity. I do, for example, explain the operation of super-light travel:

‘Now, Conall, do you recall asking about the Ark’s means of propulsion—specifically that pertaining to superlight speeds, better known as warp?’

Conall nods. Admittedly, I had been curious also, though I had
never taken to asking.

‘Are you two familiar with General Relativity?’ he begins. We nod.

‘I don’t really believe you, so I’ll explain a bit. Einstein’s theory was many things, but one of its key discoveries was linking space with time; and it is this space-time fabric, which the Ark affects.

‘We see General Relativity in action all the time: satellites, as you
may already know, operate to a different timescale. Time, in space,
actually “flows” faster than on Earth. We have to correct for this; if not, GPS would never work.’

‘We know all this—right, Conall?’ I interrupt. Conall nods.

‘What you are probably unaware of, however,’ Alistair continues, ‘is
that space-time is affected not only by gravity, but by a variety of other factors. Broadly known as the stress-energy tensor, this includes radiation and electromagnetic fields.

‘It is the latter by which the Ark operates. Its ‘engines’—more correctly known as field generators—produce a powerful electromagnetic field that alters space-time. The effect is such that the Ark can distort space itself, and thus achieve faster-than-light travel.

‘It should be noted, however, that the Ark does not travel through
space, but rather: that space itself is being “distorted” so to speak. You must be weary of applying classical paradigms to quantum events; time, for example, is not so much a continuum by which we traverse, but an abstraction generated by varying rates of change of physical events.’

Much of what I say is actually correct. There is indeed a space-time fabric, and a stress-energy tensor; whether these principles can be applied in practice is another matter, but the principles are sound.

In other areas, I take a uniquely… philosophical view of technology. Rather than inventing improbable technological creations, I instead think it more compelling to take extant technology to new heights. Electric cars, for example, are common place; and yet the descriptions of the electric powertrain, for example, is actually true to cars that exist today—like the Mercedes SLS electric drive.

I believe this makes the Ark a world in which one is remarkably familiar with, and yet utterly amazed by. That, I believe, is true to how change actually works.

Finishing Off

I have talked at length on the matter of the Ark. Now I must continue with writing it; please do humour my efforts. And as for the Magical Realm, I shall see whether I can persuade my friend Oli to once more write an essay on political matters.

Until then: may the stars be with you.

15 Oct 2015

On Democracy

As of late, my efforts in the blogosphere have been somewhat lackadaisical. I do apologise, dear readers; but the work of a writer is varied, and my upcoming novel—the Ark—is no small endeavour. Not only am I continuing with writing it (Chapter Six, as of present time) but I am also receiving feedback from a secret beta-reader.

Furthermore, I have also applied for the annual Jefferson Prize, hosted by the Missouri Review. This has involved a careful consideration of my current poetry, and certain improvements: the Necromancer, for example, has received changes in language and expression to certain strange or overly archaic sentences; other poems, such as Essence and Objet D’Art, have also been edited.

But no matter. Today I shall be writing a relatively brief (but hopefully informative) essay on democracy.

The matter is naturally very complex, and the following assumes basic familiarity both with current political events (such as Osbourne’s ‘Charter of Cuts’) and the principles of political philosophy as elucidated on by the likes of John Stuart Mill, Hobbes, etc. There will also be some matters of economics being debated; but I shall explain those with (I hope) sufficient clarity to avoid prior knowledge requirements.

Anyway: down to business.

Against Democracy—Part One: Tyranny

In any debate concerning systems of government, one must firstly consider what one wishes to achieve and the priorities thereof. Let’s take some basics—good government should be the following:

  1. Just. It must act in a manner that is fair to all members of society: tyranny is something best avoided.
  2. Effective. Not only is effective government desirable generally (no one likes a government perpetually frozen in gridlock, like the American one, or tending to compromise to the point that it pleases neither side) but it is also imperative in meeting the condition above. Bad government results in corruption, incompetence and economic meltdown. A government that wastes its citizens’ money, or reneges on its citizens’ trust, is fundamentally unjust.
  3. Pleasing. It is desirable for government to please all those who differ in opinion; for dictatorships and (to lesser extent) monarchies are often found lacking in engagement with the all opinions present. It is also to some degree necessary for condition 1, since a government run by the few tends to be… for the few, and is once more unjust.

For condition 1, democracy initially seems a good idea. After all: tyrannies usually develop in non-democratic nations—like Syria or Saudi Arabia—due to, in theory, the fact that government is run by a small and very specific minority (typically old, wealthy, religious and powerful men) and not by the people. Hence, the answer is democracy: demos (the people) and kratia (power). Right?

Well, no. Firstly, it is quite plausible for the majority to act tyrannically towards the minority. Uganda is a democratic country, but it behaves tyrannically towards its gay citizens; the US, also a democracy, behaved tyrannically towards black people. Democracy is no guarantee of justice—and the sooner we dispel this myth, the better.

But democracy doesn’t just suffer from the problem coined ‘The Tyranny of the Majority’; it also suffers from the tyranny of the minority. Yes, you heard that right. Governments are highly able to deceive their citizens using outright lies or, more commonly, sophisticated misinformation and obfuscation.

The Commons recently voted against the Assisted Dying Bill by a 2/3 majority. But 80% of the populace supported the Bill, according to the polls (which have predicted general election results quite reliably, for example). Why is there such a disparity? Well, it seems that the House is composed disproportionately of a minority, that is both more religious and has very little experience of what it means to be in hardship.

But suppose the UK was a direct democracy, and not a Republic. What then?

There are several practical problems with direct democracy: the majority of people are busy with work and family, and don’t have time to consider and debate complex issues of government.

But even if the UK was more like Switzerland, there will be other instances when the majority still manage to vote against their own interests. One such example is to do with taxation. Watch the following:

Notice, after around 2:30, the lady who believed the rich should not pay more tax; and yet was on £16K herself? The people earning enough to pay the top rate of tax in this country are on £150K: this is nearly 6 times the median wage, and only 1% of the populace earn it. If the lady were actually making decisions based on her self-interest, she would want the rich to pay more taxes. If they pay more, she pays less. Likewise would the other 99% of people earning less than £150K.

So why doesn’t this occur? The cause lies with ignorance and misinformation. Firstly, the lady may well have been ignorant enough to simply not know this simple fact. But the Tory government and its proponents are also very good at misinformation generally: they claim ‘trickle-down economics’ as a basis for their policies. The trouble is, if the rich get richer everyone else stays where they are. ‘A rising tide lifts all boats,’ may be good rhetoric, but it isn’t good economics.

The theory has already been debunked even by such conservative bastions as the IMF; but let’s briefly examine the claim a priori. How can the rich getting richer make life better for the poor? Why, by buying things from them! If there are more rich people going to the restaurant, the waiters get more tips. Right?

Wrong. The theory fundamentally misunderstands the workings of a trade economy. When the rich buy something from a poor person, they exchange money (a proxy for wealth) with a resource, e.g. being served food. But so too does the poor person exchange money with the rich when they, for example, buy a computer with Microsoft Windows. Is this to say that the poor make the rich richer, and the rich make the poor less poor?

That’s one way to think about it. More correctly, a trade economy is one in which one good is exchanged for another; the goods are equal in value (theoretically, at least) and so all that happens is that one agent exchanges a good they consider less useful with another agent in the same situation. To take an example: consider a baker. He has baked 100 pieces of bread that day; but since he cannot eat 100 pieces of bread, he exchanges 95 of them for a new coat. The taylor, for his part, gets bread for the coat he doesn’t need.

The point is: neither is materially worse off, or better off, following the transaction. All that occurs is that one good, of equal value, is exchanged for another that the persons involved find more useful to them personally.

The Tories use many more such myths to lie to the population. Jeremy Hunt would have you believe that taxing the rich makes them work less; but the empirical evidence doesn’t support him. Not only is there no connection between marginal rates of taxation and earnings in the data, but even countries like Denmark are still highly wealthy despite (it would seem) having marginal rates of taxation in excess of 50%. Indeed, the UK had higher rates under Thatcher, and higher rates still under Churchill. This and other claims I address in further detail here.

Which leads me onto…

Against Democracy—Part Two: Ignorance

The above has shown us that democracy often is tyrannical, either because it is majoritarian or because its citizens are ignorant.

But ignorance is problematic not only for the cause of justice, but also for the cause of effective governance. One prime example is Osbourne’s ‘Fiscal Charter’—or as Labour call it, the Charter of Cuts.

Osbourne’s piece of legislation effectively requires governments to run surpluses under ‘normal times’. The rationale? ‘Saving for a rainy day,’ or, perhaps more fittingly, ‘fixing the roof while the sun is shining.’

All of which is very relatable for the general public. But the general public doesn’t have a degree in macroeconomics; and this is poor economics.

Why? Because it belies an irrational aversion to debt. Debt is not all bad; a business, like for example Apple, borrows money to hire software engineers, to buy processors for their first machines, to build factories, and so on. Should they give all of that up because they have to go into debt to do it? Of course not! We’d never have economic growth otherwise.

And why is it a good idea for Apple to borrow? Because the profits they make from selling their machines far outweighs the cost of their loan.

The situation is precisely analogous in the case of the government. Should the government not borrow to build roads, and allow our manufacturing to grow, our transport to be faster, and the goods from Tescos to be shipped more cheaply? Should the government not borrow to build schools, and teach the engineers and writers and accountants of tomorrow?

But Osbourne’s charter effectively outlaws this. And that, frankly, is stupid.

Furthermore, there is also a great deal to criticise about Osbourne’s little piece of Keynesianism. The idea that governments can save money to pay their way out of future recessions is tempting for the household economists—but national economies are not households. If a government runs a surplus, it is effectively taking resources out of the economy. It is taking schools away, it is taking roads away, and it is taxing everyone to breaking point. Government savings won’t bring us out of recession; it will take us there.

The real way to prepare for recession lies neither with Osbornomics nor with Gordon Brown’s fictitious ‘light-touch’ regulation. The solution lies with preventing the causes of recessions: insane and stupid risks taken by banks.

But I digress. The problem with democracy is that voters simply have no idea of the complexity behind issues of governance. They vote in ill-qualified and dangerous politicians that run bad governments. And the irony? The voters can’t even see it. Until it’s too late.

For Democracy

I make no secret that I have a somewhat dim view of democracy. But there are important reasons to consider for why democracy may be the least inadequate of the many inadequate forms of government (to quote Winston Churchill).

For one, it is true that other forms of government are not without problems. Hereditary monarchies tend to give ill-qualified and unsuitable individuals high office; while hereditary dynasties can lead to oligopolistic and dangerous groups of people controlling the fate of the nation.

Dictatorships have a nasty tendency to lead to tyranny—few men can hold absolute power without temptation. Furthermore, dictators are still human; and individuals are more likely to make errors of judgement than groups of individuals, particularly diverse groups that can disagree.

It seems that the perfect form of government would allow the people to make their own choices, except where they are stupid; after which a benevolent, omniscient governor will intervene. Or perhaps the people may be wise enough to avoid making stupid decisions to begin with.

Since the former is implausible, and other forms of governance are yet even more inadequate, there is only one conclusion to be drawn here. We must continue with democracy. But it must be a better democracy. For the key behind good democracy—or indeed good governance in general—is in defeating ignorance.

Ignorance: The Root of Bad Democracy

Democracy is a misunderstood idea. The purpose of democracy, as we have seen, lies not in populism and majoritarianism; indeed, these are the very vices of democracy. The idea behind democracy is really quite simple: it’s not as bad as the alternatives. And to make it any good, we must free ourselves of believing that decisions made by the majority are in any way sacrosanct.

No: good democracy lies with reason, debate, and evidence. It is therefore crucial that the general populus is well educated; that our information is accurate, and if not unbiased then at least from multiple points of view; and that we consider carefully the matter of who can vote, and how.

The UK suffers from poor governance for many reasons. First among these is education—or our lack thereof. The UK does not have any formal politics or economics taught in school; and this, quite simply, is a problem. A lack of familiarity with the basic principles of economics allows dangerous ideas to foment and spread. A lack of political awareness, and of historical awareness, can lead to citizens accepting political soundbites naïvely and unquestioningly.

Indeed, many of our citizens seem to lack even basic education. They lack critical thinking; the ability to look at statistics and counter-check claims; and some of them are just plain ignorant.

The Tory government likes to implicitly feed the myth that there is a large number of illegal and spurious benefit claimants—the ‘scroungers’ to use their terminology—happy to leech off the hardworking taxpayer to buy flat-screen TVs. If our citizenry could actually read the statistics published by the government’s own agencies—the ONS estimates that only 0.9% of claims are fraudulent—or even apply basic critical thinking (are they still talking about how they’re going to make the benefits system fairer, after being in government for 5 years?), the situation would be very different.

The UK suffers from other problems too. The FPTP voting system is not only disproportionate—read this for more—but also has a nasty tendency to ensure that political parties always retain a share of power no matter what they do. If you happen to like much of what Labour says, but don’t like Jeremy Corbyn’s foreign policy; or if you happen to think that Cameron might be right on some things, but perhaps the railways should be in public ownership; hard luck for you then! New political parties in Britain cannot rise easily. Why? Because if you vote this new and exciting party—say, the Green Party—you’ll split the left vote. Then the Tories will get the seat.

The final cause for concern is called the ‘media’. Much of it is owned by a right-wing billionaire called Rupert Mudorch. He and his kind are responsible for why much of the public believes in ‘scroungers and skivers’. Why? Because they repeatedly publish the most egregious and infuriating stories of benefit theft their grubby little paws will catch—like this delicious gem:

Daily Mail Benefit Scare

The Mail publishes many more tales such as this. And they may be true. But they’re not the majority—not by a longshot. (I will repeat: 0.9%.) And if our citizens read this regularly—which they do: the Mail is the second most widely read paper in the UK (Wikipedia)—will their perception of benefit theft not be distorted? Will the family on £40k benefits not be on the forefront of their mind when they put the tick next to the Tory box?

Conclusion

My essay has indeed been substantial; nevertheless, I hope I have made my point. Accepting democracy as the least inadequate form of government does not mean accepting that the majority are sacrosanct; it does not mean accepting any ignorant and illogical argument or policy on the basis that it has been voted.

What it does mean? Education, evidence, and critical thinking must become the purlieu of all.

Very well; the Ark beckons. Until then—may the stars be with you…

PS: if you thought this essay worth your time, perhaps you may consider recommending it on Google or sharing it on Social Media. The buttons below are good for this.

19 Sept 2015

On FPTP

Hail readers! My previous post on the Refugee Crisis may have been overly political for my literary-inclined followers; but rest assured that literary content is indeed on the table. Though I am kept occupied by school—with its homework, exams, and hard decisions—I have completed more of the Ark. Thus, I will soon release a post outlining the progress of the Ark; along with, naturally, a selection of quotes and introspection with regards to what direction the Ark will take.

Currently, it is yet in the early stages of inchoate love. But of course, the Ark is more than just a love story. It is a tale of a fight against all odds; of finding purpose and the will to live in a strange, fantastical new world.

But until then, I am releasing my article on the First Past the Post voting system. Initially, I hoped that OpenDemocracy—a small online magazine specialising in politics, human rights and foreign affairs—would be kind enough to publish it. Alas, they have not replied to my submission. So: why not take a look, and judge for yourself?


FPTP is unrepresentative and obsolete. But few have proposed convincing alternatives; and fewer still are willing to challenge the status quo.

Parliamentary Representation Gained

Votes Won

Attribution: Wikimedia foundation.

The General Election should have been a wake up call. British politics has finally become pluralistic; as, indeed, many European nations already are.

But somehow, it wasn’t. The Tories are happy to continue with the dreaded First Past the Post, having been gifted with a majority—tenuous as it is—now and for much of their history; while Labour is too concerned with its leadership election, and deciding what it really stands for, to campaign. (This is assuming the Labour Party even wants to change the system, which many in the PLP don’t.)

It is the sad irony that underlies FPTP: the victor, even if possessed of good intentions, is given every incentive not to change the system. And it is the victors—and in the case of FPTP, only the victor—who can change the status quo.

The Lib Dems have been campaigning against FPTP for years; and for years, their efforts have been in vain. The Greens have no meaningful power with which to amerlioate their situation. Ditto UKIP, which won 13% of the votes but only achieved 0.2% representation in Parliament.

Such a system can no longer be considered just. In the days of old, when there was only Labour or the Tories (or the Liberals, back when they were a political force) FPTP might have been considered fair—or at least, necessary. Even then, there were always internal conflicts between different ideological factions: Atlee had the Bevanites, Major his Bastards.

But with divisions now increasingly clear—as shown by Cameron over Europe, and most strikingly in the Labour leadership contest, with Kendall and Corbyn being quite different animals—it is increasingly clear that FPTP is a dinosaur.

The question, then, is what to replace it with?

The Hybrids and the Bastards

Aside from a simple proportional representation system—where MPs are elected to Parliament on the basis of party votes, and their position on “party lists”—there are two proposed alternatives. One such is the Single Transferable Vote.

STV, in short, is a system whereby voters indicate their preferred choice of candidates in a constituency—e.g. I can nominate my local Labour candidate 1st, the Green candidate 2nd, and so on—and the second preferences of losers are distributed once they are deselected. For example: if Liz Kendall comes last in the contest, her voter’s second preferences will go mainly to Yvette Cooper, with a few ending up for Andy Burnham.

This system generally works for internal party elections, corporate board votes, and the like: the most favoured candidate is usually selected, and the system is well equipped for dealing with voters divided between broadly similar options.

STV can also help ameliorate instances where voters live in marginal seats between, say, Labour and the Tories: they may choose to vote Green, or Lib Dem, but can gift second preferences to Labour, for example.

But STV was rejected in a referendum, and for good reason: it still produces unrepresentative and often unexpected results, with tactical voting and gerrymandering playing a significant role

The other alternative is the Additional Member System—as used to elect members to the Scottish Parliament, and (in modified form) to the German Bundestag.

In this, voters get two votes: one for their constituency, the other for a proportionally represented region. Essentially, AMS is a hybrid. It works to allow voting for both party and individual candidate; but it is only semi-proportional—the Greens and UKIP, for example, would still end up with only half the MPs their votes would have given them under PR.

AMS is as much a damning indictment of FPTP as anything: the results produced under FPTP are so disproportionate, so out of touch with the voter’s intent, that even a hybrid system still produces highly irregular outcomes.

In the case of the German Bundestag, “hanging seats” are used to ensure proportionality: if the Greens, for example, won 8% of the popular vote but only 1% of the seats, the system permits them to elect additional MPs from their regional party lists. Thus, proportionality is ensured.

There’s just one problem. Two, in fact. Firstly, the House of Commons already has well over 600 MPs—is it practical to add 100 hanging seats on top of that, resulting in a house that has close to 800 MPs?

Secondly—and more importantly—the system effectively leads to toxic power struggles within parties: in smaller parties, it is advantageous for members to gain a place on the regional lists. This can lead to all manner of backstabbing and gerrymandering; and it also means that candidates with good track records have little chance of getting into Parliament if the party elite doesn’t like them.

In the case of larger parties, the opposite holds true: members will want nominations to seats—especially safe seats—and few will desire being on the regional lists.

There are proposed workarounds. In some systems, members can stand for both regional lists and constituencies; but while this can be helpful, it poses various complexities and difficulties.

But let me be clear: party politics is an issue that affects any kind of voting system. Whether it be party lists, or preferred candidates being “parachuted in” to safe seats (as occurred with Shawn Woodward, the Tory defector, under Blair’s primeministership)—either way, it is an issue that needs to be resolved by parties, not by voters.

A Question of Proportionality

The final alternative is pure proportional representation: if you have votes, you are given seats. Who gets to go to Parliament is decided by the party list.

This system has been denounced by the Tories for being subject to “party favouritism”—including by my very own Tory MP, Nadhim Zahawi, who was himself chosen by the Party to represent a safe seat! But more legitimate criticisms have been posed, and the most pressing of these concerns stable governments.

Critics argue that PR leads to unstable minority governments, or to fragile coalitions; but this argument doesn’t wash, for two reasons. Firstly, countries in which PR is implemented—examples include Austria, Denmark and many more—do in fact have relatively stable governments. Rarely was Helen Thornen Schmidt, the former Social Democratic PM for Denmark, bound by her hands when discussing on behalf of the nation (to quote John Major). This is despite having been in a coalition in which her party made up half the MPs; the reminder belonging to an eclectic alliance of People’s Socialists, Red-Greens, and Liberals.

Secondly, is not it true that FPTP produces these so-called “stable governments”. British parties are coalitions—one need only look at Corbyn and Kendall, or at Cameron and IDS, to realise this. But not only does FPTP give the illusion of stable government; it is in fact less stable than the governments produced by PR.

In a PR system, a coalition is subject to formal coalition pacts; to non-binding confidence and supply agreements; and to clearly defined positions on issues, held visibly by different parties. This arrangement is much more stable than that found in a “broad church” party, whereby each wing serves to denounce the other (as Labour is experiencing now) or to reach compromises that neither please the party nor convince the electorate (case in point: Miliband).

Fearing the Little Guy

The final complaint levelled against PR is, ironically, is that it doesn’t block small parties from gaining representation. This is only partially true: countries like Germany, for example, have 5% limits on gaining any seats in the Bundestag (parties with votes below the threshold are excluded and the composition of the Bundestag reflects that).

This is helpful in keeping out, say, the BNP; but what about the elephant in the room: UKIP?

Tony Blair raised this very concern, and even went as far as to suggest that smaller parties generally hold excessive power by virtue of deciding the majority.

But there are problems with this. Firstly, small parties will never be in government on their own; and if you’re not in government, there is little you can do. Labour knows this the hard way. It is therefore imperative that small parties attempt to gain favourable standing with larger parties; but doing so requires making compromises. In short: a small party cannot hold a large party to ransom, because to do so means being irrelevant.

Smaller parties are also often ideologically left-leaning or right-leaning; the Danish Red-Greens will never go into coalition with the Danish far right, for example.

But Blair is right to ask questions over what a Tory–UKIP coalition would look like. A match made in Hell, some would say; and a very fragile one at that, seeing as to their considerable differences over Europe, gay marriage, and more besides.

It is however worth mentioning that the vote share under FPTP is likely going to be different to that gained under PR. Many Tory voters will vote UKIP; and many Labour voters will vote Green. But let’s not exaggerate: the Tories and Labour will still be the two biggest parties in Parliament.

The challenge may be a more unexpected one. UKIP, at the end of the day, is a minority party. But the differences between Corbyn and Kendall are real, while the difference between Kendall and Cameron is not that great. It may be the case that the entire party landscape will be fundamentally altered: the Blairites will join the Cameroonians (and the Cleggites), to form the Market Party; UKIP will remain UKIP, but IDS will find himself at home; while many Greens and what remains of the Lib Dems will defect to Labour, perhaps to form the Liberal Green Socialists, or something of the sort.

Such speculation aside, one thing is clear: it is in the interests of democracy, and that of the country, for FPTP to be scrapped. At this stage, anything would be better.

And to assuage the nervous socialists among you: if you want to keep out the far right, look to Austria. Despite two far right parties collectively gaining over 20% of the vote, moderates among Social Democrats and Conservatives set aside their differences and formed a coalition.

Conclusion

Whatever system will replace FPTP, there will be challenges. The establishment—among the Tories, but even within Labour—will not take kindly to having their hegemony disappear behind a flurry of compromises and coalitions. There will be doubters, among left and right. But Britain must challenge this political inertia. The future of meaningful, working democracy rests on it to do so.

13 Sept 2015

Special: On Refugees

Hail readers! As a departure from my usual musings on poetry and other literary endeavours, I have today a special post on the refugee crisis. Being, indeed, special, this post—and all future works like it—will be prefaced ‘Special’ (funnily enough). Such technicalities aside, let’s get down to the difficult questions: what is the refugee crisis, why is there a refugee crisis, and what can and should we do about it?

The What

The refugee crisis is a term coined for the current situation in Syria (primarily) and the resultant impact on Europe.

To elaborate: Syria, at present, is suffering from a severe civil war. The incumbent Head of State, Bashar al Assad, is a hereditary dictator masquerading lackadaisically as an elected president; his regime is an authoritarian one, having pursued military action on largely peaceful ‘Arab Spring’ protesters. On top of this, he has instigated the murder—and tortue—of 11,000 people in detention centres reminiscent of Auschwitz.

The UN has even implicated Assad personally in war-crimes 1, and he is currently due for prosecution by the International Criminal Court 2.

In essence, the first cause of the Syrian civil war—and the resultant refugee influx—lies with Assad.

It is worth noting that the Assads have been ruling Syria since 1971, following a coup d’état. Though this history is not directly relevant to the situation at present, it is worth knowing. Syria was actually established as a French colony—bearing no national identity to its citizens—in the 1920s, with the consent of Britain. 3 Initially a feudal state, it was later replaced by a class-ridden rentier society, whereby two percent of the population received 50% of the income.

In 1946, Syria became an independent state. However, things had not changed; indeed, they worsened in 1948 following a war with Israel. Thereafter, military dictatorship became the norm.

Eventually this was forcibly replaced by a military committee of discontented peasants, nationalists (Syria was created arbitrarily without national identity) and a movement comprising radical socalists and pan-Islamists called Ba’athism.

As you can see, Syria’s history is long, complex, and—to put it bluntly—disastrous. We can point the finger at Britain and France, of course, but that was decades ago. The fault of the conflict now lies clearly with Assad.

‘Alex! But what about the refugees?’ you ask. And this is where the situation worsens once more. Aside from a bloody civil war between (understandably) angry rebels and a ruthless dictator—a conflict which has already involved several uses of chemical weapons, with death tolls in the thousands 4—there is one more fire in the pan: Isis.

This particular entity needs little introduction. Composed of murderous, raping, Islamic fundamentalists, it has made quite a name (or is it names?) for itself, what with beheading journalists and enslaving Yazidi girls into sex slavery. This particular unsavoury group has activities in both Iraq and Syria.

The situation is complicated by the fact that Isis is being opposed not only by the Iraqi army, and by Kurds, but also by Assad himself. Of course, Assad isn’t doing it for humanitarian reasons (ha!)—no: Isis is a major threat to his power (being determined to create its own caliphate) and is therefore being resisted.

Anyway: let’s leave such deliberations aside and get back to the problem of the refugees.

Refugees, Refugees...

The Syrians are fleeing their country for obvious reasons. On the one hand, Assad is busily torturing and killing dissidents; on the other, there’s a dangerous civil war going on. And to top it all off, Isis is also in the fray, busily pillaging and killing away.

It should be mentioned that the Syrians aren’t the only ones fleeing. In addition to their 9 million 5—a million of which are in the tiny country of Lebanon, with many more in Turkey and other neighbouring countries—there are also Libyans fleeing a failed state, various victims of Egypt’s wonderful rulers, and several disaster zones in the Congo, in Somalia, and in much of Africa.

Whatever to Do?

Several solutions and workarounds have been proposed. Firstly among these is accepting more refugees; a noble quest, but there are questions to be addressed.

Britain—nor any other country—cannot and should not support a large group of dependent, non-working people. It would be a substantial drain on our already damaged and inequality-ridden economy. And besides: none of us were in power when colonialism was about; we share no culpability for this.

However, this is not to say that we shouldn’t let the refugees in. No. My suggestion is a simple one: let the refugees work. Abandon arbitrary and tedious conditions on asylum; and let them be productive members of society. Because, whichever way you look at it, the situation in Syria is not going to get better anytime soon. Might as well enjoy the popcorn.

There are other concerns with these refugees. Some have expressed worries that they will be like some of our Muslim citizens—i.e. dangerous, fundamentalist, and batshit crazy. We can already see those ‘British’ Muslims getting plane tickets to join Isis.

But there’s a problem with this argument: the vast majority of these people were persecuted by Isis, and have every reason not to engage in that type of behaviour. And if they did fancy joining Isis, chances are they would have done so already. Also, to be blunt, if they are that way inclined—deport them! Let them sow the fruits of their harvest.

But let’s not get carried away by these fears. The vast majority of these refugees are impoverished, traumatised, and desperate. They are people just like you and me—people with dreams, with hopes, with ambitions. People who lost their children in a gas attack; people who faced being shot, bombed and beheaded as part of their daily lives. Do we really want to abandon them to the mercy of Assad?

But What About Assad and Cronies?

There is an important argument to be had here. We can take on 20,000 refugees, or a hundred thousand, or—like Germany—we can take on 1% of our population: 600,000.

And with a convincing pan-European plan, we might get a few million refugees safe.

But there are millions more living in a destitute Lebanon; millions more still waiting to escape Syria. This cannot be a permanent solution. Europe cannot be the lifeboat for the Middle East; we have neither the capabilities nor the culpability to merit such action.

So: what do we do about Syria?

Taking on Isis would be a start. Being a non-state entity, it isn’t subject to the pesky technicalities of international law in quite the same way as a state is. But defeating it is easier said than done: like all guerilla forces, it is tenacious, capable of hiding itself, and thus not defeatable by a bombing campaign or a simple Blitzkrieg operation. It is like a virus.

Isis itself isn’t that powerful—its oil revenues are modest, it has no aircraft or tanks, and its soldiers don’t possess the level of training or armament that a developed nation can bring to bear—but it exists in a region filled with weak governments, civil war, and nations barely capable of providing for their citizenry (let alone creating the Wermacht).

But this leads to a possible solution. Can we not help the Iraqi government, the Kurds, and the Turks to take them down? Can we not arm them, train them, and equip them?

The danger is that we may create a situation similar to the Mujahideen. Formerly armed in a similar fashion by the CIA, these Jihadists were initially employed to beat back the Soviets from Afghanistan many years ago. Unfortunately, they went on to create the Taliban, Al-Qaida, and now Isis. Reluctance to engage in anything similar is understandable.

But the Kurds are not the Mujahideen. They have been ruthless at times, as anyone in their position may well need to be; but they fight ultimately to defend themselves, their husbands and wives, and their children from Isis barbarity. They are not ideologues and warlords.

Although I do not profess to be an expert, it seems to me that the situation is not analogous to that of Afghanistan. It is a proposition worth considering.

Aside from that, there are other possibilities. Britain may continue to employ airstrikes and drone attacks—which have some limited effect—but as Tom Watson, the deputy Labour leader, has said: no airborne campaign will succeed in beating Isis without ground support.

Which leads us to another possibility. Can we, and should we, bring in the army? I am not opposed to this on a moral and practical basis. There is no danger of creating another Mujahideen; and it would be substantially more effective than dropping bombs.

Still, it is fraught with problems. A force like Isis will not be defeated in an a year; for it can hide, and it can recruit. As long as there are angry, bloodthirsty fundamentalists and murderers about—well, you may need to keep those troops in there for a while. Maybe for a decade, or so. It will cost money, and lives.

Morally, I am not opposed to a couple thousand soldiers giving up their lives—and a few billion to be spent—if it can save millions from suffering. But I know that my view will be unpopular among many; and there are other, less expensive possibilities to consider.

Jeremy Corbyn, newly elected leader of the Labour party, has proposed cutting off Isis by controlling the Turkish border. While the intent is effective—cutting off Isis supply lines and oil revenues will certainly weaken them—controlling the Turkish border is easier said than done: Turkey’s border spans more than a thousand kilometres between Syria and Iraq, along with Iran. Even if the Turks somehow manage to patrol and control such a border (an improbable feat indeed) it is well known that Iran tacitly supports anything that will weaken its neighbours.

The final problem alluded to previously is one of ideology. There is little doubt that Isis promises of heaven, and virgins, and killing the infidels (and all the rest) finds itself home among a region dominated by fundamentalist Islam. Devotees certainly do find solace in the various scriptures of Islam—that support Jihad and violent action—as well as the precedents set out by Muhammad and centuries of warlords thereafter.

Saying this will no doubt solicit some ire, but is is ultimately true. Richard Dawkins is right to point out that religion is a major part of what is going wrong in the Middle East—as indeed has gone wrong for the last millennia. The statistics are frightening to bear. The entire Islamic world has translated fewer English texts in a thousand years than Spain has in one. 6 Illiterary is rife, particularly among women; and it has been so for thousands of years. Imams and scripture regularly call for and defend the subjugation of women.

There is little point in continuing. All of the Abrahamic religions have long and bloody histories, with long and bloody Bibles. The fact that Isis devotees genuinely believe that killing thousands of innocent people in a suicide attack will send them to heaven is, really, a testament to how violent religion really is.

What Are We to Get from This, Alex?

Dealing with Isis is a complicated matter. Sending in the army would be a good step, but the cost may be too high to bear—and without a broader plan, it is ultimately futile. Isis must be fought along several frontiers: the Kurds must be aided in their fight against them, but cautiously; airstrikes should be continued, but faith must not be placed on them; and borders need to be controlled as best as feasible.

But more than anything, in the long term, the Middle East needs education. Its citizenry must learn of science, of the Enlightenment, of liberal democracy and tolerance. We should support attempts to replace violent dictators—because ultimately, there will never be progress so long as they remain in power.

That’s right: realpolitik has failed. It has failed time and time again. By all means, be careful to avoid creating power vacuums and anarchy; and if you’re not willing to invade and control a country in order to depose a dictator, don’t do it. But don’t be afraid to support forces that desire prosperity and freedom from doing so either.

Wrapping Up

I have discussed at length on this matter. The situation is undoubtedly complicated, and poses many difficulties for Britain and the EU. But there are solutions, both short-term and long term.

In the short term, we need to work with the European Union to adopt a Europe-wide asylum policy. We need to accept our fair share of refugees; and I do mean our fair share—the same as Germany and France. We need to do this not because Europe wants us to, but because it is within the scope of our shared humanity.

It sounds corny, I know, but it’s true. If you’ve a heart, for the love of all that is good—give these people safety. If you lived with the daily threat of gas attack, bombing and beheading; would you be any different?

On a more practical level, the refugees need to work. And the root causes need to be addressed.

Europe cannot be the lifeboat for the Middle East. Instead, the Middle East needs to become a prosperous place: it must became safe, so that millions need not flee for their lives; it must grow economically, for destitution has no place in the 21st century. If you don’t support their wellbeing for their sakes, at least support it for ours; for millions will enter Europe, no matter how many barbed wire fences your erect—nor indeed for how many will drown in the Mediterranean.

Doing so will require destroying the forces of evil, be it Isis or Assad. It will require education, and emancipation for women; for minorities; and from the toxic clutch of religion.

Some may call me fanciful. They will continue with their realpolitik, with their dodgy deals and dictators. And on one level, deals will need to be made—not with the evil, but often with the unsavoury. Politics is a dirty business.

But politics can also bring hope, and vision, into life. And that’s something we’re going to need.

25 Jul 2015

On Socialism

Hail readers! As promised, here is mine and Oli’s essay on Socialism. Read on for a detailed look into Socialism’s philosophical, moral and economic underpinnings; an argument concerning its validity and place in 21st century Britain; and, to finish off, a debate on the Labour leadership contest.

Socialism, Defined

The question that many a political novice fails to ask is one of ‘What, exactly, is Socialism?’ This is in fact a question with no definitive answer—thinkers have used the word to mean many different things, across various time periods and nations. But we can, at least, define what we mean when we say Socialism.

To me, Socialism is a political and economic theory based on the core idea of, simply, ‘we are not alone’. A Socialist views the world not necessarily through the lenses of ‘proletariat’ and ‘bourgeoisie’ (though these ideas have their merits) but rather, we tend to take a more pragmatic view: we believe that a democratically elected state can—if its citizens are willing and its administrators competent—improve the lives of the citizens it cares for, to great effect. We believe that capitalist markets are flawed, but that they can be made more successful with judicial state intervention; that all citizens have the right to equal opportunity; and that through our collective endeavour, we may make the world a better place.

Really, the clue is in the name. Capitalism has an administrative focus on capital—profit, usually monetary—whilst Socialism lends more attention to society itself: to welfare, primarily, which becomes inclusive of education, infrastructure, and so forth, further down a line of successful administration. What Socialism is not is also an important part of its definition. It is not Communism by any default (although Ideal Communism, with its focal point being community, is indeed a form of Socialism, whilst Actual Communism perhaps is not). Such distinctions allow me to state with clarity that Socialism is not oligarchic, so let’s lie that to rest immediately.

Oli’s point is an important one: many Conservatives attack Socialists for being ‘statists,’ but in fact Socialism doesn’t view the state as being an end in an of itself. Rather, Socialism takes the view that the state is a tool of the grassroots community; that it is there to serve their interests, not dictate to them like some drunken bureaucrat. Socialists are also accused of being ‘technocrats’; and this is true, insofar as both wish to advance mankind in some form. In the case of Socialists, this is usually—though not, as you can see, necessarily—through the state; for technocrats, it is through technology. Since the two are far from mutually exclusive, technocrats often agree with Socialists.

Socialism is about cooperation—between citizens and the state, one state with another, and citizens amongst themselves. Communication and cooperation is perhaps technology’s most impressive feat. This very article is being written simultaneously by the two of us sat miles apart.

It is also no secret that Socialism acts on a moral impetus, not merely a broad technocratic one. Many Socialists—like Capitalists, in fact—are Utilitiarian; we view the state as a creation capable of increasing society’s utility, of improving life. It is also true, however, that Socialists are concerned with poverty and social justice—sometimes, to the possible detriment of Utilitarianism. It could be said that Socialists have a vision: that of creating a society where relative prosperity is available to all. Interestingly, however, the principle of decreasing marginal utility may actually imply that a more egalitarian society—as Socialism desires—is actually also a more prosperous society overall, despite mean wealth being lower than a comparable ‘Capitalist’ state. (Though, as I shall argue below, Socialist nations may actually be wealthier than Capitalist ones.)

But is it Convincing?

Interestingly, Conservatives usually don’t argue that Socialism is undesirable; that they would, in an ideal world, be Capitalists rather than Socialists. No—the usual dismissal is that Socialism is ‘too unrealistic’ or, rather ironically when coming from Conservatives, ‘too idealistic’.

With regards to the latter, the argument is usually that Socialism simply cannot achieve the social justice which it sets aims for. In part, this is resultant of varying aspects (or entirely different definitions) of what social justice is. The already-mentioned egalitarian approach of creating equal opportunity to counteract socio-economic circumstances which may hold individuals back seems a perfect ideal, but in practice is such a complex process of individual assessment that it can drain public resources to no large effect. The benefits system we have today can be viewed as an example of a bureaucratic nightmare wasting money at every turn. The problem here is that such governmental wastefulness is in itself a social injustice. Of course, without such a system, poverty, starvation, illiteracy, death and disaffection would be all the more common— it is therefore also an example of Socialism coming before Capitalism in a society which contains both.

A noteworthy issue with strict egalitarianism (which Socialism is often and wrongly labeled as) is that such a system may deny meritocratic funding of talented individuals, whilst spending ‘too much’ to bring the less able up to the same level of ability. In Aristotle’s words, “To the best flautist goes the best flute”. In another analogy, if society provides a training carpenter with tools, will not the most talented apprentice make best use of the tools—or better use of better tools? In turn, this service from society is an investment in society, as the carpenter will improve in his carpentry. Without meritocracy in some capacity, mediocrity becomes prevalent throughout society as a whole. Strict egalitarianism (though not that of opportunity) may well deny society the chance to advance.

In summary, the Conservative spiel is that meritocracy and egalitarianism are both ideals of justice, but are in contradiction. Which do we adhere to, and if we synthesise, where lies the balance? Inequality of opportunity is arguably an unjust natural occurrence, but amendment of this using public resources can be viewed as equally unjust, if not in principle then in practice. In essence, social justice is paradoxical, and attempts either creates a social divide through meritocracy (therefore missing its goal) or makes mediocrity prevalent (unjust and non-progressive). Therefore, we are told, Socialism will revert to Capitalism, to pragmatism, after failing to balance the books of the impossible ideals, which perpetually contradict and require spending to do so.

The lie is of course that Socialism is always portrayed as an ultimatum, always as entirely this or entirely that. As Alex will point out, we already live in a somewhat Socialist society. The purpose of this essay is perhaps to convince readers of why we ought to be more Socialist—and why they ought not shrink from the word. The truth is that there is a middle ground; we can support the impoverished whilst supporting the talented. Just by deciding to do both, we’ve bridged the gap that has been invented. The whole point of Socialism is to address social issues, rather than to gamble on a market of utility to sort them out for us. Of course we can, and we should. For those doubting if we ‘can afford it’, I hand you over to Alex:

Economically, Conservatives propose a number of arguments for why they believe Socialism cannot work (or work well); and chiefly among these is the idea that, since a state must rely on taxation to fund many of its enterprises, a Socialist society would lead to individuals having less ‘incentive’ to be successful—due to, of course, being unable to keep more of their money. Thus, a Socialist society becomes impoverished when compared to its Capitalist counterpart.

Conservatives, you see, believe that high rates of taxation result in individuals (always the individuals) obtaining less benefit from extra work, and so not wishing to work more, or become more successful.

The problem with this argument is that it ignores the other side of the coin—that, by lowering individuals’ net income, it is actually the case that individuals wish to work more in order to achieve the level of wealth they find desirable, as opposed to remaining content with what they already have. Conservatives also fail to consider the varied reasons for why individuals strive to become wealthier; in the case of entrepreneurs, it is to pursue a dream, a vision. Entrepreneurs are a rare class of the damned; they’ll never be content with the nice life.

And if you’re inclined to disconsider all these theoretics as mere speculation, consider instead the conclusions offered by empirical data: why is it that Japan—a government with relatively low taxation levels—has very similar GDP per-capita to Germany, a country with relatively high taxation levels? Both were severely damaged after WW2, and yet their wealth is entirely comparable. Surely, if taxes have such significant disincentivising effects, wouldn’t there be much larger differences?

Another popular right-wing myth is that without reaching a Communist state (which many wrongly consider to be the logical conclusion of any leftist movement), Socialism is too reliant upon inherently unstable conditions (human cooperation without capital incentive) to not revert back into Capitalism. Indeed, this is exactly the argument made by Karl Marx in the Communist Manifesto, this the foundation of his call to arms of the proletariat. From the Conservative perspective, then, Socialism is futile, a pointless endeavour, whilst from the Communist perspective, it is a stepping stone that sinks if you don’t cross it quickly enough. Talk about pessimism!

As Alex illustrates, the basis of such arguments are simply false, and Socialism therefore can stand on its own, in its own right. In fact, compared with other quasi-capitalist nations that pertain to the far-right ideals, such as China, we are already Socialists. We are already illustrating my next point: Socialism, for us and many others, is not anarchistic, but stabilised by a familiarly democratic electorate. By redirecting the wealth that capitalism has gained us, we can become more Socialist and less Capitalist—invest in society rather than in more capital.

Oli has also illustrated another fundamental misconception that troubles thinkers of both political stripes: believing that the state only redistributes wealth, as opposed to creating it. This is patently false. Such thinkers confound money—a proxy used as a denominator for the exchange value of goods—with what wealth actually is: the utility gained by the production of goods. For example: when a carpenter makes a table, his life becomes better. Why? Well; because he has a table. He may place his tools, his books, his plethora of miscellany on top. He has created what we know as ‘wealth,’ or what the classical economists call utility. Utility, you see, is fundamentally metaphysical in its nature; it cannot be represented by money. Money is only a quantitative abstraction representing what other agents are willing to exchange for the table, e.g. two shirts of linen.

And the state does precisely this sort of ‘wealth creation’ when it, for example, builds bridges; treats broken bones; and teaches children. This is wealth creation. The reason why the state taxes is because otherwise there would be inflation; and there would be inflation because of what is known as opportunity cost—since labour is finite, employing workers to, for example, treat an eye condition implies that there are no workers left to build a Mercedes as well. Thus, when the state taxes a wealthy individual, all it does is match the money supply to resources by keeping the money supply constant; a drain to the money supply (taxes) is matched by an increase to the money supply (paying NHS nurses).

Another economic argument presented against Socialism by critics is that of ‘competitiveness’; in an almost apologetic tone, the Conservatives tell us, if we become Socialist (by which they really mean to say ‘if we increase welfare’) then we will be unable to compete with China.

After the argument is made, the debate often becomes one of globalisation; ought we really engage in free trade if we are forced to make such sacrifices? The argument concerning globalisation is a complex one; and indeed not the one I shall be making. Rather, I argue that if we wish to be competitive, we should be Socialists—precisely because it allows us to be more competitive.

‘But Alex!’ you cry; ‘how can this be so? Surely, as the Conservatives tell us, Socialism would make us less competitive?’ The trouble is, Conservatives rely on a number of argument for why they think Socialism is uncompetitive—or, rather more accurately, why they think Socialism is inherently inferior to Capitalism insofar as the economy is concerned. I have already debunked one such claim concerning taxation, and another with regards to the role of the state. Against global competitiveness, I shall abandon theoretics, and instead content myself with empirical evidence.

China is a big country. A big, big country; it has 1.3 billion people, in fact. Curiously, however, Germany—a country with ‘just’ 80 million people; less than a tenth the population of China—is able to export approximately two-thirds as many goods (by international exchange value) as China. Why is it that a country with high levels of unionisation, safety laws, and yes, welfare, is able to produced ten times as many goods (in terms of value) per capita compared to a country with little welfare, laughable safety laws, and low unionisation? Why is the Socialist country beating the Capitalist country?

For that matter, why is it that the European Union—which has 500 million people—has greater total wealth, and far greater prosperity, than a nation with 1300 million people? Despite, it seems, taxing more, and spending more?

What determines competitiveness is nothing to do with the nebulous insinuations of the Conservatives—of welfare leading to fecklessness and laziness. No: competitiveness is determined by such factors as an educated workforce; a stable and well-run financial system; capital availability; infrastructure, competent leadership, and, believe it or not, a society where every member contributes to its success.

Many of those feckless poor are actually poor because of such factors as unemployment—and not because they don’t want to work, but because there is no work—because of disability or sickness, and because of social problems. None of those will be solved by cutting benefits; on the contrary, doing so will aggravate the problem. Nor is this to say, however, that benefits are the solution. The poor need education and training, but businesses must also be willing to hire them; and social problems are a complex issue that require solutions far beyond what the market can offer. Indeed, all of these problems are beyond the market’s ability to solve. And so, you see, it is precisely why we should be Socialist; if not for the goodness of our hearts, then for the money in our pockets.

As for the goodness of our hearts, once it becomes apparent that Socialism is possible, it seems to me inarguably the right thing to do. The message of Socialism is of compassion and justice—that we can do more towards both for every member of the state. For me, the mere fact that we can leads to say that we should.

And now we hear the Libertarians cry out in the face of Socialism (read: Actual Communism). “We can’t let the state command resources, make social and economic decisions on behalf of us all!” Rebuttal: we’ve already explained this is not what we are talking about. The purpose of the Socialist state—arguably the ideal purpose of any state—would be to provide what all members of society already desire: a minimum standard of living and a shot at success. Capitalism claims to provide both, gives moderate attention to the latter, and miserably negates the foremost. The Socialist state is not authoritarian, and does not control personal decisions.

Let us now leave the matter of Socialism as a theory—for which, suffice to say, if we have not convinced you already then we never will—and instead deal with another matter: how to bring more Socialism to Britain.

Labour, Leaders, and FPTP

It is no secret that first past the post is a voting system that allows the voter but two choices: Left, or Right? And, inevitably, any pretence of nuanced thought gets left by the wayside. Though this essay is concerned with Socialism, we believe the matter of FPTP is important enough to merit a sidenote. Indeed, it could be argued that successful Socialism cannot function without successful democracy.

FPTP

There are two alternatives to first past the post: the foremost is a form of proportional representation practised in Germany, and involves a complex system of vote-transfers between constituencies; the second, as practised by Denmark and numerous other nations, is a simple raw vote count—independent of regionality—from which parties are permitted to elect members to the Parliament.

Our own local MP, Nadhim Zahawi, has criticised PR of the Danish variety, on the basis that it endangers “links with constituency”. Whilst a valid point, this is a non-issue if we maintain constituency voting.

The Devil’s Advocate that I am, I must take issue with this. Yes, we may keep constituency elections for a second house of Parliament; but the first house—that of the national government—remains subject to a different issue: MPs being elected on the basis of ‘party favourites’ rather than their ability to sway the electorate.

Coincidentally, PR is working quite well for Germany; their government consists of one third PR by default, theoretically giving everybody a proportional representation. Meanwhile they maintain regional representation to form the other two thirds. It’s not perfect but it’s an example of a working PR system: a more honest spread of opinion, and undeniably more democratic than FPTP.

Alternately, I would suggest a completely different solution—fix the party, not the system. British political parties are too authoritarian; too much weight is given to the leader and the Cabinet, and not enough to ordinary MPs and grassroots members. This not only leads to ‘party favourites,’ but also to internal tension and strife. (This can become so poisonous as to lead to open rebellion; Major’s bastards and Blair’s Brownites serve as prime examples.)

Party democracy is possible—The Green Party have no whip, leaving members to openly discuss policies and even to disagree with them. Some consider this a leftist practice, but why shouldn’t other parties behave, well, democratically? To Zahawi, we say improve the system at every opportunity, right down to the parties themselves.

FPTP also has the obvious benefit of producing ‘stable governments’—strong majorities in parliament. Indeed, it was created for this very purpose. Coalitions are viewed as inherently ‘unstable’ in the UK. I consider this an outdated opinion for a number of reasons; 2010 resulted in a coalition (which I consider preferable to the current government); 2015 polls were incredibly tight until the end; so-called ‘minor’ parties such as UKIP have soared up the raw vote figures but remain near-unrepresented; and nearly an entire nation of the UK is now represented by a ‘minor party’. With all this divide, the Conservative party may have a majority in parliament, but achieved a mere 36.9% vote share of a 61% turnout. That is 22.5% of the populace. Where is the stable majority in these raw numbers? We have riots and protests because huge numbers of citizens are not represented at all thanks to the FPTP system.

Furthermore, what critics of PR fail to understand is that British political parties are coalitions. One need only look at the Conservative party (where Cameroonians battle Eurosceptics) and the Labour party (where Corbynites war with Blairites) to understand the phenomenon. Indeed, PR would therefore result in more stable governments; factions of a party, instead of fighting WW3 with one another, would instead agree to co-operate under the set terms of a coalition.

And we have already seen that coalition works, not only in the UK’s 2010 government, but around Europe. All bar one of the post-WWII German governments have been coalitions, and their economic (and social) success has already been referenced in this essay.

So: let’s ditch FPTP. Let’s embrace a modern, representative, and effective democracy.

So: You Want us to Vote Labour?

As long as we suffer under FPTP, Labour is the logical choice. That’s not to say you can’t vote for another left-wing party if they better represent your views—it is simply a system failure that only Labour have a realistic chance of enacting your views in Parliament. But this still leaves a decision to be made and a vote to be cast: Labour are leaderless after Ed’s resignation. So, who to elect to leadership?

As far as I’m concerned, Labour needs to win, in order to enact change. But that doesn’t mean it must abandon its principles; on the contrary, it is principle that will make the party strong—both at election time, and when governing.

To win, Labour must confront the reasons for why it lost. Here are five ways it can do so:

  1. ‘Labour didn’t fix the roof while the sun was shining.’ Throughout the election campaign, this remained unchallenged. Milliband made apologies; he did not repudiate, he did not offer a counter-narrative, and he was weak. This must change. Though Labour may accept a small degree of culpability only in that it could have run a more fiscally sound administration (though Thatcher actually borrowed more, for example), it must make one thing very clear: the banks caused the crisis. It must spin its own narrative—and it must be a relatable, accessible one; abstracts won’t do it. ‘The banksters gambled the nation’s bank accounts,’ would be a start. In politics, offence is the best defence.

  2. Their policies need to appear sensible. This isn’t to say that they are not sensible—our entire essay is hopefully illustrating just how much sense there is in Socialist thinking. The problem is that abstract talk of “grotesque inequality” and “class war” (let alone “bourgeoisie”) is simply not as effective as concrete talk of “the squeezed middle” and “the 1%”. It’s one thing to speak of class war, another to say ‘Why must the single mum at Asda struggle to pay the rent, while banksters can’t decide on whether to buy a Mercedes or a Bentley?’ The fact is that Labour did not sell themselves anywhere near well enough in the last election. There is too much of the abstract about them, it seems too fluffy—they need to clearly state the problems in society, and what they will do about them.

  3. Scotland. Labour needs to deal with the SNP Problem. And no: denigrating the SNP, or making what ultimately amounts to minor administrative quibbles (about NHS waiting lists and so on) won’t do it. Labour needs to make a strong case for why Scotland should stay in the Union; it needs to be rational, yes, but also emotive. Look to Gordon Brown.

  4. Immigration. Labour needs to sort out the immigration problem. How? Not by peddling to UKIP; but by making a convincing, impassioned case for why the UK should allow immigration.

  5. And finally, the European Union. Labour’s stance is clear but they still need to make the case for staying, as passionately and as sensibly as for all the above issues. Labour needs to seize upon the Conservative and national division on the issue so that by the time the referendum comes about, the right decision is made. Ed Milliband should have promised the same as the Green Party—a referendum, but with strong campaigning to show people the benefits of staying and the damages of leaving. The decision to not have the conversation with the nation probably lost thousands of votes. The decision to have it now will help win thousands back.And of course, Labour musn’t just speak sense; it must speak passion. ‘If we leave, we’ll be not just Little England, but lonely Little England,’ might be a start.

The success of the right wing in recent times has spun off of public perception of words such “socialism” rather than their genuine meaning. It has been focused on a narrative that is understandable, relatable, and accessible. The left, meanwhile, has clung to its principles and used them as a shield, seemingly without realising that these principles are misunderstood, and without offering good explanation. Such issues as these can only be addressed in education and in the disarming of biased media, but both are a long way from their ideal states. Their lack of clarity has lost them 2015, not their lack of conviction, nor the principles themselves.

As for who should be leader? Let’s start with a rundown of the current candidates:

Andy Burnham: A centre-left candidate; he voted against IVF for lesbian couples and he has the support of the unions. In some ways, he’s a continuity candidate; but he also talks about popping ‘the Westminster bubble’ and he has a Mancunian accent (or is it Scouser?) He is willing to appoint Corbyn to the Shadow Cabinet, or serve under him if he gets elected. Note that his aides backstage wrote this off as a joke.

Yvette Cooper: a ‘centre candidate,’ Yvette has spoken on the possibility of re-introducing the 50% tax rate, and plans to build 250,000 homes. She is Shadow Home Secretary, and has a good record on civil rights. She has said that she would consider appointing Corbyn to the Cabinet, though she wouldn’t want to serve under him.

Liz Kendall: Coined as a ‘Blairite’ by the media, Kendall wouldn’t raise the minimum wage, but would work to ‘persuade’ employers to offer a ‘Living Wage,’ and would introduce requirements on minimum wages for companies that have government contracts. She has also said she would free up more land for housing. She says that if Corbyn got elected, the Labour party would be ‘at least a decade out of power’ and that she would not cooperate.

Jeremy Corbyn: A left-candidate, Corbyn has proposed to introduce a £10 minimum wage; to not renew Trident; to bring in the 50% rate; and to nationalise the railways, among other policies. For the Green supporters among you, these were all in their 2015 manifesto. He says he would ‘find common ground’ with all the candidates, including Kendall.

Jeremy Corbyn has been called ‘unelectable’ by the Guardian, and a ‘Trotskyite’ by the Telegraph. It feels almost redundant to say that such accusations are absurd (Trotsky despised democracy; Corbyn is a firm democrat) but there is one point that must be addressed here. A party doesn’t get elected by selling policies in the manner befitting of a corporation; it gets elected by convincing a large portion of electorate that their way, is the right way.

It is true that it is very difficult to convince the electorate of one’s policies if one’s policies are directly against most of the popular opinion. And yet—despite whatever the media tell you—Corbyn’s policies aren’t against the popular opinion. Quite to the contrary, in fact.

Nationalisation of Railways graph

Apparently, the public also supports a 75% tax on incomes above £1M (YouGov ) a mandatory living wage, and nuclear disarmament. (Independent)

But let us discuss some of these policies…

Nuclear Disarmament: After much debate, we have decided that we disagree with Corbyn’s policy insofar as we wish to keep a nuclear deterrent—though not necessarily in the form of Trident.

The spending on nuclear weaponry—let’s not tread softly with words, here—in this country ought not exceed the values necessary for the upkeep of a deterrent. We make this statement on the careful analysis of what we consider the weaponry to be for; we certainly hope that, as a nation, we harbour no intention to actually use a nuclear weapon on another nation. So why create an offensive force, rather than invest only enough to maintain a deterrent?

In an ideal world, Corbyn would be right, and we would lead the way to nuclear disarmament by scrapping our spending and research into the area entirely. This would rest upon faith in other nations to be equally peaceful and responsible. (It would be ridiculous to assume that all other nuclear nations would follow suit immediately.) The question we must ask, then, is can we trust them? Russia, under the ultra-nationalist control of Vladimir Putin (and cronies), is a very real threat. China is often less than friendly and rather erratic. Let’s not forget the various extremist factions around the world, nor the bizarre but terrifying antics of North Korea’s dictatorship. If there ever will be a time to completely lower our defences and lead the way to peace, perhaps this is not it.

Of course, there may well never be an ideal time for the first step to be taken—for the first nuclear nation to resign from nuclear activity—simply because the world may never be safe enough for any one nation to step out into the abyss. We then considered whether or not we could place a transnational platform over the threat of destruction for the first nations to stand upon.

For this, I would suggest setting up an ‘EU Defence Fund’ in which all EU member states pay for the upkeep and construction of a small, but sufficiently credible, nuclear defence system. The specifics would be for military experts and other EU politicians to discuss—likely this will involve trans-continental missiles, submarines stationed in Sweden or Denmark, and upkeep paid according to GDP—but this solution would be cheaper for us, and fairer for the EU.

Corbyn’s policy is ultimately unrealistic, but I will point out that in today’s world, there is nobody whom you will agree with completely; and, practically, the Labour party would never vote to scrap Trident, even if Corbyn does become leader. We are glad that the matter is being discussed, or progress would never be made.

Corporation Tax Increase: Another issue that presented itself was that of Corbyn’s plan to increase corporation tax. Though we are not opposed to increasing taxes, I for one consider this particular tax rise counterproductive and misguided. Allow me to elaborate…

Corbyn has presented a vision for the economy; one that involves high economic growth, supported by investment—not cuts. But for high levels of investment to occur, businesses must be able to keep their profits; if they cannot, they will have none with which to invest.

It is true that the additional government revenue could be used to invest—in roads, rail, education, and all manner of valuable causes. But we are not communists; we live in a world where private firms, as well as government enterprise, contribute to the economy. We need private investment, as well as government investment, in order to succeed.

What Corbyn should really be tackling is high rates of executive pay in relation to the pay of other company employees; and while increased income taxes, for example, can be beneficial in generating increased revenue for the government (Corbyn indeed plans to reintroduce the 50% rate) this fails to address the root cause of much of inequality—a neoliberal, ‘winner-take-all’ corporate culture that disempowers the many in order to remunerate the few. We need to change the very way today’s corporations think; we need increased rates of unionisation (as Sweden has, for example) and ways to address CEO bonuses. ‘Tax, tax, tax,’ may be a popular Socialist mantra, but it shouldn’t be the only one.

Corbyn’s issue is the issue shared by the public image of Socialism itself. There is a more detailed, delicate and effective way to manage our economy, to achieve the justice which is being aimed for, than simply increasing taxes. In fact, this is the likely root of the unfortunate “we can’t afford it” criticism. That said, taxes play a roll, and all in all, Corbyn seems to be looking in the right direction —the left one.

National Insurance Tax Increase: In brief, I consider this a good move, if only because Corbyn’s plan is to spend the money on making education free. University tuition is accessible to pretty much everyone at the moment, with a generous loans system that can cover everyone’s costs. There are problems, however, which make these loans a temporary fix in my eyes.

Firstly, whilst the tuition fee loans de facto make the tuition available upon request, the maintenance loans fall short of the mark on numerous occasions. The household income assessment is an unfair basis because it assumes a household is willing to—or can even afford to—support a child living at university. This is only worsened in families with multiple children, where the income of the household is stable but the expenses go up and up for each successive child attending university, without any extra help relating to the fact that they have more children. Clearly, more money needs to be spent to help people attend university—or at the very least better calculated.

Secondly, education simply should be free. Education is a right, but it is not equally accessible. The recent scrapping of student grants and the continuation of the student loans enforces a principle: those with less initial wealth will spend longer with less wealth. Those who can afford University initially will benefit from it faster. This is is unfair. It is punishing the poor simply for being poor, in the name of education. It’s disgusting.An old metaphor may best be adduced here: ‘A wise man places the heaviest burden upon the strongest of shoulders.’ Education is a public investment in the future of a nation, and with the push since Blair to get more students in Universities, it is ludicrous to charge them all for it as well.

And let’s not forget, Oli, that even tuition fees for ordinary students have been introduced with an agenda at play. The Coalition government wouldn’t raise the marginal tax rate; but it did triple tuition fees—precisely in order to make the less well off (namely, recently graduated students just entering the job market) pay more of the burden, instead of older graduates and better paid graduates.

The Right may respond ‘but shouldn’t students pay for their education’ to which I respond: not necessarily. For, after all, it is the rich that benefit most from an educated workforce. Apple wouldn’t exist if universities didn’t train computer science graduates; retailers would struggle without the roads designed by state-schooled engineers; and it is therefore only sensible to make the rich pay for universities, not because of envy, but because they are the ones most able to pay for the system that so enriches them.

So is Jeremy Corbyn Right?

My answer is: yes and no. Jeremy has a vision—a real alternative to neoliberal austerity programmes; and, more than that: he’s right on so much. He’s right on tuition fees, he’s right on nationalisation, and he’s right that Labour shouldn’t become Tory-lite; if not for principle, then for electoral success.

He has his flaws. He’s too keen to tax, tax, tax; he speaks too much in the abstract, with ‘grotesque inequality’ rather than Polly at Asda and bankers buying Bentleys; and on some of his policies—nuclear disarmament, foreign policy—he’s too idealistic.

Ultimately, he has the right ideas. He speaks of an alternative that the other candidates are too shy, too self-doubting, to speak of. So: the ideas are right. But is he the right man to sell them? He stutters (albeit occasionally), he speaks in the abstract, and he doesn’t always have the necessary pragmatism. So, no, he isn’t. Is he more likely to win the election than, say, Cooper or Burnham? I’m not sure. Will I vote for him? Yes. If none of the candidates will succeed in bringing Labour to power, then at least we will have a strong opposition.

As for me… Yes. He’s the right leader for the party. What lost Labour the election wasn’t it’s Socialist leftism, which Corbyn represents very well. As Alex talks about, there are flaws in his ideas, but for all the reasons Alex illustrates I would support him over the others. But perhaps Corbyn is the right man at the wrong time. In 2015, the Conservative party were well situated after a reasonably successful coalition which they took more than their fare share of credit for, and the preceding disappointing term of Gordon Brown. All of this was spun into a cohesive narrative of deficit cutting, rising employment, et cetera, as a part of an admirably well orchestrated (and incredibly expensive) campaign, which reacted to the political climate influenced by Labour’s divide, the SNP phenomenon, and the pressure-oven that is UKIP. Labour can recover from this anti-leftist climate if they campaign well—we’ve already discussed this. But perhaps Corbyn would be too far a leap right now.

Personally, I’d vote for him anyway. That’s me, I’m an idealist, I think politics is about moving towards our ideals. It is for his vision that I would feel compelled to vote in favour of Corbyn. I wouldn’t change my vote because Cooper may be more likely to succeed, because I believe in the message that Corbyn is offering. The success of the party ought to come second to what the party stands for. As Tony Benn once said, in politics, there are weathercocks and signposts—true and tall and principled. Socialism and leftism are, in their simplest forms, about principles of justice, welfare, and compassion—all combined with a little common sense.

Whatever the outcome of the leadership contest, I will give the winner one word of advice: politics isn’t about aping your opponent. It isn’t about ‘matching the electorate’ or selling goods to consumers. It’s about conviction. A strong leader must speak with charisma, in a language voters understand, and they must always hold true to what they believe in. To compromise is to be pragmatic; to capitulate is to accept defeat before the battle has even begun.

Contact Oli Woolley: email woolleyoli AT gmail.com, or contact him on Twitter and Facebook.