Monday evening saw an interesting coincidence.
In the UK, Channel Four was broadcasting the last installment of Charlie Brooker's "Black Mirror" second season, called "The Waldo Moment". It was a sharp political satire about a foul-mouthed blue bear cartoon character called "Waldo", who stands in as an independent candidate in a by-election, as a protest against the political status quo.
In Italy, the national election was being counted, which resulted in an inconclusive result. The two main parties were more-or-less tied (the centre-left PD narrowly ahead), with the third "party" being a non-partisan, anti-establishment movement led by Guiseppe (Beppe) Grillo, a comedian and satirist. Grillo's most famous epithet was, uncannily like the UK's fictional "Waldo", simply "Fuck Off" to the establishment.
Call it Italy's "Grillo Moment". Let's be clear: what has happened in Italy is unprecedented in modern European political history, certainly in a major European country. In Greece last year, the left-wing SYRIZA coalition came close to victory on an anti-austerity ticket. In the end, their moment passed, and the self-destructive foreign-imposed austerity has continued as before.
But nine months on from that election in Greece, attention has turned to Italy, in a much more financially-dire situation that even Greece. What Beppe Grillo has achieved has been to turn the system against the establishment. He bypassed the normal means of electioneering, turning to the internet and a massive grassroots movement that has mushroomed in exponential terms in a matter of months. Grillo has been able to tap into the massive undercurrent of apathy, turning the disillusion into a focused rage against the broken corrupt political system. The "Indignados" movement in Spain has close parallels, but seems to lack one central figure for people to direct their attention on. With luck, that may change.
Southern Europe is now in the throes of different popular, grassroots uprisings: SYRIZA in Greece, the "Indignados" in Spain, and now Beppe Grillos' "Five Star" movement in Italy. SYRIZA, as a loose political alliance, is the more conventional of the three, and has an identifiable and articulate leader in Alex Tzipras. But while SYRIZA represents the "traditional" left and an easily-identifiable enemy for the political and financial establishment to target, Grillo's "Five Star" movement represents something far more difficult to identify - and therefore far more dangerous to the establishment.
What makes Grillo's movement so effective is the way it cuts through the traditional pigeon-holes of politics. As Grillo himself has said, his movement is against the established left and right parties and political system. What Grillo wants is to disengage, to resist against the system as it currently stands. In this sense, Grillo's methodology implies an anarchic approach to resolving political and national problems. Grillo's success in the Italian elections is perhaps the first political success of an anarchist movement in a major European country. The "MPs" that will represent his movement in parliament are not politicians, but ordinary people, from the unemployed, to students, to housewives. Grillo has found a way of bypassing the system.
One possible outcome of this is an eventual informal deal between the biggest party, the centre-left PD, being supported on a case-by-case basis in parliament by the "Five Star" movement: called "confidence-and-supply" in the UK. Some of the PD's MPs have already dismissed working in a "Grand Coalition" with Berlusconi's party; the other alternative to an informal PD-5SM deal is paralysis in parliament, with Mario Monti staying on in a caretaker government. This would find it virtually impossible to get anything done through parliament, so would also be a non-option for effective government.
Judging from the masterly way Grillo has turned the electoral system against the establishment, it is unlikely that Grillo's movement will fade away. It is just possible that this "Grillo Moment" may not be just a "moment", but a turning-point, and an inspiration for other similar movements across Europe.
This brings me back to the fictional version, "The Waldo Moment". Charlie Brooker sharply shown how to tap into the deep well of apathy and disgust at the political system in the UK. Grillo's movement became so popular because many people saw their political system as corrupt and closed, and saw a way of getting their own back. But in some ways the UK's system is even more closed.
Italian politics may well be more openly corrupt than in Britain. But at least Italy's political system is representative. The entire reason why Grillo's movement has become the key broker in Italian politics is because its PR electoral system is a fair representation of the votes cast. A grassroots movement like Grillo's would have no chance of gaining anything like the same proportion of seats in Westminster, due to the FPTP system.
The last election was a case in point, where the LibDems gained nearly a quarter of the vote (almost as much as Grillo), but less than ten per cent of the actual seats in parliament. UKIP, whatever your views on its politics, is being prevented at every turn from even having a single MP in the national parliament. Although it regularly gains around ten per cent of the vote in national polls, the only way it can get even a single MP is by convincing the voters in a single constituency to vote for it above all other parties. This makes the UK political system the most closed in the EU, if not Europe (barring Belarus). In other words a party could get thirty per cent of the vote in every constituency in the country, and still have no MPs in parliament. This is the system we have in Westminster, the so-called "mother of all parliaments". It is worse than a joke; it is a national disgrace. It is this reason that there is so much apathy towards the political system in the UK, and why British people feel so disconnected from their political masters. If you know that your vote will be wasted because you happen to live in a party's "safe" seat, or a "marginal" between two parties you don't like, then what other feeling can you have?
So how could a "Waldo Moment", or even a real-life "Grillo Moment" happen in the UK?
The first time it happened in modern British politics was in 1997, in the Tatton constituency, when local people voted tactically for the Independent MP Martin Bell, in order to remove the incumbent Conservative. Since then, there have been a few other independent MPs, as well as a Green MP for Brighton, and the left-wing demagogue George Galloway. But these are people working with the system, not against it. In the UK, it is the voting system itself that keeps the political establishment closed to new movements.
So unless you can somehow manage to persuade a vast apathetic cross-section of society to vote tactically in key constituencies, the chances of a "Grillo movement" gaining a good slice of parliament using the current system are next to nothing.
The last time the UK political establishment was terrified of its people (as all good democratic governments should be) was during the infamous "Winter Of Discontent". I described these events in more detail here, but the way that ordinary workers gained the attention of government then was by mass, spur-of-the-moment strikes. The country was effectively paralysed for a number of weeks, but the workers got what they wanted: better wages and conditions. Mass civil action would be the most obvious method to use to, and is most likely to get politicians attention. Unfortunately, with current UK laws, it is also likely to get many people at the wrong end of the police. So you would need to gain the trust and implicit support of the police. Police are unable to strike; however, they are allowed to interpret the law as they see fit.
So some kind of agreement between the police and a mass civil movement (which offered the police better working conditions and fewer unworkable laws to enforce) would be the most effective way to terrify the political establishment. Remove the link of subservience to government: give the police genuine independence from government, and reducing its workload by allowing it to give more discretionary cautions against unworkable or politically-motivated laws. That would be the first step, and would make police less over-worked and our criminal justice system more efficient. This would also terrify and emasculate the government in equal measure.
The second step, like Grillo, would have to be disengagement from the orthodox political system. UKIP, and Nigel Farage, in particular, have found a way around this, by discrediting the political system. The problem that UKIP has is that it hasn't managed to find a way to get tactical voting, or a political stalemate, to work in its favour. The 2010 election was the nearest thing we've had so far to a "Grillo Moment": that turned out to be a "Clegg Moment". And we all know the result of that.
The problem with the UK political system is that to change it, you have to do it from within. So how do you disengage from the political system while also bringing about change from within?
Political change only comes about after a social crisis. Political reform in the UK happened this way, and is the most likely way it will happen in the future. In order for this to happen, the people themselves have to realise that there is a crisis to begin with. And for that to happen, there has to be a turning-point; a moment of revelation.
After the government's "bedroom tax" kicks in, and changes to DLA, perhaps that "moment" will not be long in coming...
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
Saturday, February 23, 2013
BBC Management structure and The Jimmy Savile Scandal
I wrote previously about the Jimmy Savile scandal, and how a lax and complacent establishment allowed him to be effectively the nation's perverted "court jester" for forty years.
All those at the top of the system played their part in turning a blind eye to the well-known rumours of his perverted behaviour, but none more so than the BBC who originally hired him, and he used them as a conduit for his twisted and amoral narcissism, as well as a highly-effective shield against personal attacks to his well-honed saintly image.
It is therefore the BBC that has the most blame to fuelling his criminal behaviour. The long-running investigation into the BBC's complacency and incompetence has also brought into sharp focus the byzantine structure of the BBC itself, as well-remarked upon by Peter Oborne. His point is partly political, and that's not what I really want to go into here. I want to focus on the anachronistic and byzantine manner that the BBC is structured.
There is perhaps no other media organisation in the world structured like the BBC. It is held up as the "gold standard" for journalism and reportage around the world, as well as being the oldest such structure. The problem is that the BBC also knows about its gold standard image around the world, giving it a predisposition to arrogance, and therefore less likely to take easily to criticism. At the very least, its indecipherable management structure makes it hard to know where the line of accountability runs. And accountability is the key problem that has been displayed from the report into the Jimmy Savile scandal, with reams of evidence being effectively redacted as though the BBC were the media version of the KGB, as well as managers themselves not knowing their proper responsibilities. Which is precisely the point.
The BBC has been around since 1922. To put it into perspective, the Fascist takeover by Mussolini, the end of the Soviet Civil War, the rise of Ataturk in the Turkish Republic were all contemporary events to the BBC's founding.The BBC's raison d'etre was designed to reflect the psychology of the day. Created with noble intent as a media provider for the British Empire that was separate from government, it was effectively the "voice of the Empire", albeit one that spoke not from a government mouthpiece.
In this sense, although staffed by managers who were from the same "establishment" background as politicians, lawyers and the civil service (and effectively still is), it was given a large degree of independence, thus putting its managers in a privileged position unknown to any other country at the time (and still is today).
After designed to be ran by similarly-minded "establishment" figures given a large degree of independence, the structure of the BBC itself seemed to have been inspired by civil service thinking as well. First of all, was its revenue structure. The "licence fee" was the way that kept the BBC financed, and this never changed after other television stations (notably its original competitor ITV) were established. In many respects, the BBC's mentality and structure are more like that of a government than a corporation. The "licence fee" is effectively a tax on people who want to use the BBC services, albeit one that the real government has no effective control over.
The BBC refuses to use advertising, its most common reason being that it would damage quality of its production. The more likely reason is that it would then no longer be able to use the public as a cash cow, and would have to lobby for revenue from the private sector. The "quality" excuse is not longer valid: Channel Four has produced quality independent programming, reportage and news since its foundation thirty years ago, and it uses advertising like any other of the BBC's competitors. The BBC's stance on needing the licence free smacks of fear and arrogance.
The way the BBC is funded is therefore more reminiscent of a government than a private corporation. The way the BBC is structured internally is similarly reminiscent of a government rather than a private corporation. The structure of the BBC was originally conceived before the Second World War, when it was the "voice of the Empire". That structure has never fundamentally changed; conversely, since the end of empire and the rise of the postmodern era, it has mushroomed beyond all comprehension. As Peter Oborne pointed out is his article above, there are now nearly thirty senior managers in the BBC, some of them with titles that are more reminiscent of bloated central government department. With titles like "strategy", "planning", "operations", and so on, it makes the BBC look less like an identifiable government department and more like a Kafkaesque nightmare of bewildering proportions, where no-one really knows what each persons job is, who is truly responsible for what, and what questions to ask to who.
The structure at the BBC is rigidly hierarchical and bewilderingly impenetrable in equal measure, like a Soviet Central Committee in the Kremlin. This "Soviet style" of leadership and organisation may have been a subconscious design of the original founders (considering how many of the early establishment figures were closet Communist sympathisers, this wouldn't be surprising). Since that time, the organisation has therefore grown in accordance with its design, like an ever-expanding impenetrable web. The result of this, like any inefficient and corrupt government that is not publicly accountable, is an environment perfect for covering up scandals and not dealing with problems when they occur; rather pressuring "whistle-blowers" to either be quiet or be dismissed.
It is precisely this sort of environment that allowed Jimmy Savile to thrive. The fact that those responsible for tolerating the cover-ups and mishandling scandals, like former head George Entwistle, are rewarded with fat pay-offs, is symptomatic of a broken system. Likewise is the redacting of potentially-incriminating evidence under "legal advice".
Until the BBC is forced to change the way it is financed, by getting rid of the licence fee, it will never be able to bring itself to look with open eyes at its broken system. Until the BBC is ran like a private media company like any other (or, inconceivably, funded directly by the government as a state-ran operator), it will never be able to run itself with real accountability.
The BBC is effectively ran like a "media government". Not in the sense that it has an unaccountable influence on government media policy, but in the sense that it is ran like a separate media "government", funded by us, but unaccountable to anyone but itself.
Clearly, this situation has become untenable.
All those at the top of the system played their part in turning a blind eye to the well-known rumours of his perverted behaviour, but none more so than the BBC who originally hired him, and he used them as a conduit for his twisted and amoral narcissism, as well as a highly-effective shield against personal attacks to his well-honed saintly image.
It is therefore the BBC that has the most blame to fuelling his criminal behaviour. The long-running investigation into the BBC's complacency and incompetence has also brought into sharp focus the byzantine structure of the BBC itself, as well-remarked upon by Peter Oborne. His point is partly political, and that's not what I really want to go into here. I want to focus on the anachronistic and byzantine manner that the BBC is structured.
There is perhaps no other media organisation in the world structured like the BBC. It is held up as the "gold standard" for journalism and reportage around the world, as well as being the oldest such structure. The problem is that the BBC also knows about its gold standard image around the world, giving it a predisposition to arrogance, and therefore less likely to take easily to criticism. At the very least, its indecipherable management structure makes it hard to know where the line of accountability runs. And accountability is the key problem that has been displayed from the report into the Jimmy Savile scandal, with reams of evidence being effectively redacted as though the BBC were the media version of the KGB, as well as managers themselves not knowing their proper responsibilities. Which is precisely the point.
The BBC has been around since 1922. To put it into perspective, the Fascist takeover by Mussolini, the end of the Soviet Civil War, the rise of Ataturk in the Turkish Republic were all contemporary events to the BBC's founding.The BBC's raison d'etre was designed to reflect the psychology of the day. Created with noble intent as a media provider for the British Empire that was separate from government, it was effectively the "voice of the Empire", albeit one that spoke not from a government mouthpiece.
In this sense, although staffed by managers who were from the same "establishment" background as politicians, lawyers and the civil service (and effectively still is), it was given a large degree of independence, thus putting its managers in a privileged position unknown to any other country at the time (and still is today).
After designed to be ran by similarly-minded "establishment" figures given a large degree of independence, the structure of the BBC itself seemed to have been inspired by civil service thinking as well. First of all, was its revenue structure. The "licence fee" was the way that kept the BBC financed, and this never changed after other television stations (notably its original competitor ITV) were established. In many respects, the BBC's mentality and structure are more like that of a government than a corporation. The "licence fee" is effectively a tax on people who want to use the BBC services, albeit one that the real government has no effective control over.
The BBC refuses to use advertising, its most common reason being that it would damage quality of its production. The more likely reason is that it would then no longer be able to use the public as a cash cow, and would have to lobby for revenue from the private sector. The "quality" excuse is not longer valid: Channel Four has produced quality independent programming, reportage and news since its foundation thirty years ago, and it uses advertising like any other of the BBC's competitors. The BBC's stance on needing the licence free smacks of fear and arrogance.
The way the BBC is funded is therefore more reminiscent of a government than a private corporation. The way the BBC is structured internally is similarly reminiscent of a government rather than a private corporation. The structure of the BBC was originally conceived before the Second World War, when it was the "voice of the Empire". That structure has never fundamentally changed; conversely, since the end of empire and the rise of the postmodern era, it has mushroomed beyond all comprehension. As Peter Oborne pointed out is his article above, there are now nearly thirty senior managers in the BBC, some of them with titles that are more reminiscent of bloated central government department. With titles like "strategy", "planning", "operations", and so on, it makes the BBC look less like an identifiable government department and more like a Kafkaesque nightmare of bewildering proportions, where no-one really knows what each persons job is, who is truly responsible for what, and what questions to ask to who.
The structure at the BBC is rigidly hierarchical and bewilderingly impenetrable in equal measure, like a Soviet Central Committee in the Kremlin. This "Soviet style" of leadership and organisation may have been a subconscious design of the original founders (considering how many of the early establishment figures were closet Communist sympathisers, this wouldn't be surprising). Since that time, the organisation has therefore grown in accordance with its design, like an ever-expanding impenetrable web. The result of this, like any inefficient and corrupt government that is not publicly accountable, is an environment perfect for covering up scandals and not dealing with problems when they occur; rather pressuring "whistle-blowers" to either be quiet or be dismissed.
It is precisely this sort of environment that allowed Jimmy Savile to thrive. The fact that those responsible for tolerating the cover-ups and mishandling scandals, like former head George Entwistle, are rewarded with fat pay-offs, is symptomatic of a broken system. Likewise is the redacting of potentially-incriminating evidence under "legal advice".
Until the BBC is forced to change the way it is financed, by getting rid of the licence fee, it will never be able to bring itself to look with open eyes at its broken system. Until the BBC is ran like a private media company like any other (or, inconceivably, funded directly by the government as a state-ran operator), it will never be able to run itself with real accountability.
The BBC is effectively ran like a "media government". Not in the sense that it has an unaccountable influence on government media policy, but in the sense that it is ran like a separate media "government", funded by us, but unaccountable to anyone but itself.
Clearly, this situation has become untenable.
Friday, February 22, 2013
Margaret And The Monetarists: The 1970s, and How To Destroy A Decade
The 1970s as a decade has become forever associated with economic stagnation ("stagflation") and unruly unions. It is this association, continually repeated, that helped the Conservatives stay in power for eighteen years; and it is the almost faith-like acceptance of this perception by the likes of Tony Blair that has helped to maintain the same economic system that led to the financial crisis in 2008.
Is this perception accurate? When we look at the evidence, the picture tells us a very different, and much more complex picture. What is most important to remember is in whose interests is it that the commonly-accepted perception of "The Seventies" not be questioned.
The 1970s was not a decade of continual decline and paralysis by the unions. There were two real bouts of crisis, true, but there were various factors for these, which I'll go into later.
It is true that in general the UK had been in overall decline since the end of the Second World War, and that by the start of the 1970s the industries that had supported the economy during the British Empire - trade through manufactured exports, coal production and shipbuilding - were declining by worrying levels due to cheaper and more productive competitors abroad. Put simply, Britain was no longer as useful to the rest of the world now that it no longer had an Empire that depended on it.
But the position was not totally hopeless, and the leading politicians of the day still believed that the "post-war consensus" (i.e. following a basically Keynesian-style of economics) was the best formula. Both leaders of the two main parties, Wilson and Heath, believed in some form of government-led action to maintain the economic health of the country.
Things only really started getting ugly after the Yom Kippur War in late 1973. Before that, the British economy was generally doing fine. There had been the scare of the Miners' strike in early 1972, where Arthur Scargill became a household name through his action at the Saltley picket and had forced the government to make concessions, but this was more of a blip in Heath's first few years as PM. The first few years of The Seventies were not too bad economically. House prices were going up, but that was due to the trend to buy property that was fast catching on (and a clear indicator of perceived wealth). The Heath government had brought the UK into the (then) EEC.
In other ways, the Heath government had some very progressive ideas from both the left and right. There was the (very Keynesian) idea to build a new airport on the Essex coast (Maplin Sands), which was to be the impetus for an adjecent new city like Milton Keynes; therefore promoting growth through massive investment projects. On the other hand, there were some progressive right-wing ideas around reforming (i.e. privatising) how public services were ran, though the ideas were cautiously-envisaged compared to Thatcher's later reforms.
It was the Oil Shock after the Yom Kippur War, that was felt all across the West, that sent the economy into a death-dive. And this is the important thing to remember: every country in the West was affected badly by the Oil Shock. Then the miners' union, the NUM, had an idea: if the government can pay through the roof for oil, then why can they not do the same for Britain's coal? As a result of the government's stubbornness towards the NUM's demands, coal supplies quickly began to fall. So after the New Year of 1974, the government introduced the "three-day week", where power would only be supplied three days out of seven in order to conserve coal supplies. Shortly after, Edward Heath called a general election. The result was a hung parliament, when he tried to make some kind of agreement with the Liberals. He failed, and Harold Wilson returned as PM.
The experience of Edward Heath as Prime Minister had a schizophrenic effect on the Conservative party. Margaret Thatcher had been his Education Minister, but generally she was thought of as something of an aberration.
Unlike her contemporaries as Prime Minister, Heath, Wilson and Callaghan, Thatcher's politics as a young person had not been deeply affected by the Depression. These three one-time Prime Ministers were more-or-less Keynesians of one type or another because they had seen the desperate poverty the Depression had caused at first hand. Margaret Thatcher had not. She had grown up in Grantham, a provincial town in Lincolnshire, her father a family grocer who had made a comfortable success out of his life, and was a longstanding member of the council and mayor later on. She was able to take advantage of this stable background to get herself an education at Oxford, and met her rich future husband, Denis. From then on, her life in politics went from success to success. In short, Margaret Thatcher was a woman not familiar with failure.
Heath stood down after losing the election, and Thatcher put her name forward, though she was not expecting to win it herself. She was the kind recipient of the nebulous dealings of the Conservative party, however, and when she became the surprise choice for leader, her peers didn't give her much of a chance in the long-term.
One of these reasons was her personality, which did not seem very natural or humane. She appeared to struggle to relate to the public, and she had gained the notorious epithet "Milk-snatcher" while as Education Minister. Then there were the types of people she had become associated with.
The "Monetarists" was a term for economists and political thinkers who were attracted to the idea of freeing-up the economy from Keynesian "consensus", allowing "market forces" to run the economy and the government do much less in general . They had created a number of think-tanks where like-minded Conservatives and right-wing economists could discuss and plan a strategy for expanding their philosophy to a wider audience. But in 1974, these ideas seemed too outlandish for many Conservatives, let alone the wider public. Besides, they were theories, that had never been really put into practice.
The second Wilson government had to face the continued worsening of the economy from the after-effects of the Oil Shock. What was worse, neither Wilson, his peers, or even the civil service, had much of an idea about how to deal with it. Because something like the Oil Shock had never happened before in living memory (at least, not since the Depression), a collective torpor seemed to gather over government in general. Inflation and unemployment soared. This forced the then-chancellor Denis Healey began to take a more pragmatic line with the Keynesian "consensus" by cutting public spending from spring 1975 onwards, so that the economy began to pick up. However, a cut in interest rates in spring 1976 (by the Bank Of England or the Treasury, no-one seems quite sure) started a domino effect on the stock markets, causing a calamitous drop in the value of the pound. It was this crisis that prompted Wilson's resignation and Callaghan to take over.
The drop in the pound continued for months. A loan in the summer of 1976 from other rich countries helped to reverse the damage, but the loan needed to be paid back quickly, and this is where the infamous IMF loan came from. By the end of that horrible year, Britain had been made to look a laughing stock on the money markets, and great damage had been done to the economy. What was worse, this was all entirely avoidable if the Bank Of England and the Treasury had got its act together; worse, when explaining the scale of the problem to the IMF, they had exaggerated the damage. In the end, barely half of the IMF loan money was needed by the government, so a crisis had been created almost out of nothing, and Britain's reputation destroyed needlessly.
This, and the "three-day week" were the low points for Britain in The Seventies. Callaghan as PM turned out to much more like Heath than many in the Labour party would have liked to admit at the time. His approach to dealing with the state of the economy was very pragmatic. After the IMF loan debacle, Britain's economy began to improve once more, and union action had reduced significantly compared to the first half of the decade, and at a time when union membership was growing ever more.
It was Callaghan's approach to the unions that was his signature piece, and also, counter-intuitively, his downfall. Callaghan had wanted to make the British economy and working life much more like Germany, as he believed it was Britain's best approach to a more progressive society and sustainable economy. And in many ways, posterity has proven him right. His approach with the unions involved a compromise called the "social contract", whereby unions accepted pay rises lower than than inflation.
By the summer of 1978, with the economy still on the right track, there was gossip of an autumn election. The polls were close, indicating another hung parliament like in early 1974 (another election later on in '74 gave Labour a small majority, but this has been eroded to a minority by losing successive by-elections, so that Callaghan was in government by an informal pact in parliament with the Liberals). Like Gordon Brown in 2007, Callaghan weighed up the options and thought, with the economy on track to improve further, he should wait till the spring of 1979. This decision proved to be fatal.
The longstanding union leader, Jack Jones, was a virtual power-broker with the government. As a fellow supporter of Callaghan's compromise and "social contract", his retirement in 1978 coincided with Callaghan's bold (or arrogant) decision to restrict union pay increases even further than what had been previously agreed, which was also around the same time as the gossip surrounding an autumn election. The result was that Jones' successor took a much stronger line with the government. Once Callaghan had made the decision to opt for a spring '79 election, the dice had been rolled and it didn't take long for the opportunistic element of the unions to strike. The result was the "Winter Of Discontent", which saw the widest organised strike action seen since the 1920s.
The "Winter Of Discontent" was not really as fully organised as the General Strike in the 1920s; it was much more about mass opportunism by workers tired of a decade of wages kept below inflation, and those workers in unions around the country simply began following suit with everyone else. The "Winter Of Discontent" was less a strike than a spontaneous social uprising, unprecedented in modern British history. Since the crisis of the "three day week" of early 1974, unions had been relatively disciplined. But Callaghan's step to restrain wage increases further was the straw that broke the camel's back. In one sense it was as though the spirit of '74 had returned, but the crucial difference was the spontaneous and almost hysterical nature of the events of the winter of '78-'79. Although there were many who did not strike, the sheer random nature of how previously quiet unions (such as those representing grave-diggers, refuse collectors, traffic wardens and lorry drivers) suddenly became militant, was a shock to the establishment, the Labour government included. There was a period during that winter when Hull had become effectively a union-ran city, where employers had to queue like supplicants at the local union office to ask for permission to transport goods. For a number of weeks, it was like the "Paris Commune" had taken over Hull; Leningrad-on-the-Humber.
Such a "social revolution" was bound to terrify some parts of the establishment, and in such an emotive atmosphere, the reckoning was not long in coming. When the election finally came after the government lost a vote of confidence, Callaghan was punished and lost the election.
Thanks to a series of fortuitous events, Thatcher and "The Monetarists" had finally won their place in government.
It is one of politics' "what ifs". If Callaghan had gone for an autumn 1978 election, a hung parliament or small Labour majority was the most likely result. Thatcher would likely have been forced out by her party, and the more moderate "Heathite" side of the party would have likely been able to select a new leader. So "Thatcherism" and "Monetarism" may well have never had the chance to see the light of day at all. And a second term Callaghan, with the backing of the growing revenues from North Sea Oil, may have been able to make Britain's economy more sustainable like Germany's.
Instead, Thatcher was given the chance to implement her theories on the giant laboratory of Britain. But it did not happen right away; in fact Thatcher's first term in many ways resembled a sort of "Heath II": it was unsure of what to do, and her government gave in to a miners strike in early 1981 just like Heath in 1972. Often forgotten now, Thatcher's first term presided over a far worse economy and unemployment levels far worse than even in the 1970s; the economy stagnated for three years, not showing real signs of improvement until after the 1983 election. The Conservatives in the 1983 election didn't even do very well; what saved them was the civil war on the left that split the opposition vote three ways. That, and the "Falklands effect".
It was only after the '83 election that Thatcher felt confident enough to implement her "Monetarist" agenda.
The opening-up of the banking sector led to the free-for-all in the stock market and the practices that led to the financial crisis in the UK. What remained of British manufacturing and heavy industry (i.e. the key industries outside of the South Of England) was allowed to stagnate. Union power was crushed, at the expense of employees' rights. The "right to buy" council houses led to a massive shortfall in the number of affordable houses in the UK in the long term, and was a key factor that led to the dysfunctional housing market we now face. Public sector industries were sold off to the private sector; now we know the result of that in the ever-rising cost of our bills.
And all this because Margaret Thatcher and "The Monetarists" thought that The Seventies was a horrible time for Britain. In reality, the peak of British egalitarianism, where the gap between the rich and the poor was at its smallest, was in the later seventies, during Callaghan's government. The poor generally did well in the 1970s, in spite of inflation. So clearly there is something wrong with the "consensus" formed since that it was a time of economic hardship and poverty. It was not, for the vast majority. The people who "suffered" (in the technical sense) the most in the 1970s were the rich; in particular, the mega-rich, as they were forced to contribute more to the state in taxes, and saw the loss in value of their savings in real terms.
But do we want a more egalitarian and meritocratic society, or one that is designed to benefit those who are already rich?
Is this perception accurate? When we look at the evidence, the picture tells us a very different, and much more complex picture. What is most important to remember is in whose interests is it that the commonly-accepted perception of "The Seventies" not be questioned.
The 1970s was not a decade of continual decline and paralysis by the unions. There were two real bouts of crisis, true, but there were various factors for these, which I'll go into later.
It is true that in general the UK had been in overall decline since the end of the Second World War, and that by the start of the 1970s the industries that had supported the economy during the British Empire - trade through manufactured exports, coal production and shipbuilding - were declining by worrying levels due to cheaper and more productive competitors abroad. Put simply, Britain was no longer as useful to the rest of the world now that it no longer had an Empire that depended on it.
But the position was not totally hopeless, and the leading politicians of the day still believed that the "post-war consensus" (i.e. following a basically Keynesian-style of economics) was the best formula. Both leaders of the two main parties, Wilson and Heath, believed in some form of government-led action to maintain the economic health of the country.
Things only really started getting ugly after the Yom Kippur War in late 1973. Before that, the British economy was generally doing fine. There had been the scare of the Miners' strike in early 1972, where Arthur Scargill became a household name through his action at the Saltley picket and had forced the government to make concessions, but this was more of a blip in Heath's first few years as PM. The first few years of The Seventies were not too bad economically. House prices were going up, but that was due to the trend to buy property that was fast catching on (and a clear indicator of perceived wealth). The Heath government had brought the UK into the (then) EEC.
In other ways, the Heath government had some very progressive ideas from both the left and right. There was the (very Keynesian) idea to build a new airport on the Essex coast (Maplin Sands), which was to be the impetus for an adjecent new city like Milton Keynes; therefore promoting growth through massive investment projects. On the other hand, there were some progressive right-wing ideas around reforming (i.e. privatising) how public services were ran, though the ideas were cautiously-envisaged compared to Thatcher's later reforms.
It was the Oil Shock after the Yom Kippur War, that was felt all across the West, that sent the economy into a death-dive. And this is the important thing to remember: every country in the West was affected badly by the Oil Shock. Then the miners' union, the NUM, had an idea: if the government can pay through the roof for oil, then why can they not do the same for Britain's coal? As a result of the government's stubbornness towards the NUM's demands, coal supplies quickly began to fall. So after the New Year of 1974, the government introduced the "three-day week", where power would only be supplied three days out of seven in order to conserve coal supplies. Shortly after, Edward Heath called a general election. The result was a hung parliament, when he tried to make some kind of agreement with the Liberals. He failed, and Harold Wilson returned as PM.
The experience of Edward Heath as Prime Minister had a schizophrenic effect on the Conservative party. Margaret Thatcher had been his Education Minister, but generally she was thought of as something of an aberration.
Unlike her contemporaries as Prime Minister, Heath, Wilson and Callaghan, Thatcher's politics as a young person had not been deeply affected by the Depression. These three one-time Prime Ministers were more-or-less Keynesians of one type or another because they had seen the desperate poverty the Depression had caused at first hand. Margaret Thatcher had not. She had grown up in Grantham, a provincial town in Lincolnshire, her father a family grocer who had made a comfortable success out of his life, and was a longstanding member of the council and mayor later on. She was able to take advantage of this stable background to get herself an education at Oxford, and met her rich future husband, Denis. From then on, her life in politics went from success to success. In short, Margaret Thatcher was a woman not familiar with failure.
Heath stood down after losing the election, and Thatcher put her name forward, though she was not expecting to win it herself. She was the kind recipient of the nebulous dealings of the Conservative party, however, and when she became the surprise choice for leader, her peers didn't give her much of a chance in the long-term.
One of these reasons was her personality, which did not seem very natural or humane. She appeared to struggle to relate to the public, and she had gained the notorious epithet "Milk-snatcher" while as Education Minister. Then there were the types of people she had become associated with.
The "Monetarists" was a term for economists and political thinkers who were attracted to the idea of freeing-up the economy from Keynesian "consensus", allowing "market forces" to run the economy and the government do much less in general . They had created a number of think-tanks where like-minded Conservatives and right-wing economists could discuss and plan a strategy for expanding their philosophy to a wider audience. But in 1974, these ideas seemed too outlandish for many Conservatives, let alone the wider public. Besides, they were theories, that had never been really put into practice.
The second Wilson government had to face the continued worsening of the economy from the after-effects of the Oil Shock. What was worse, neither Wilson, his peers, or even the civil service, had much of an idea about how to deal with it. Because something like the Oil Shock had never happened before in living memory (at least, not since the Depression), a collective torpor seemed to gather over government in general. Inflation and unemployment soared. This forced the then-chancellor Denis Healey began to take a more pragmatic line with the Keynesian "consensus" by cutting public spending from spring 1975 onwards, so that the economy began to pick up. However, a cut in interest rates in spring 1976 (by the Bank Of England or the Treasury, no-one seems quite sure) started a domino effect on the stock markets, causing a calamitous drop in the value of the pound. It was this crisis that prompted Wilson's resignation and Callaghan to take over.
The drop in the pound continued for months. A loan in the summer of 1976 from other rich countries helped to reverse the damage, but the loan needed to be paid back quickly, and this is where the infamous IMF loan came from. By the end of that horrible year, Britain had been made to look a laughing stock on the money markets, and great damage had been done to the economy. What was worse, this was all entirely avoidable if the Bank Of England and the Treasury had got its act together; worse, when explaining the scale of the problem to the IMF, they had exaggerated the damage. In the end, barely half of the IMF loan money was needed by the government, so a crisis had been created almost out of nothing, and Britain's reputation destroyed needlessly.
This, and the "three-day week" were the low points for Britain in The Seventies. Callaghan as PM turned out to much more like Heath than many in the Labour party would have liked to admit at the time. His approach to dealing with the state of the economy was very pragmatic. After the IMF loan debacle, Britain's economy began to improve once more, and union action had reduced significantly compared to the first half of the decade, and at a time when union membership was growing ever more.
It was Callaghan's approach to the unions that was his signature piece, and also, counter-intuitively, his downfall. Callaghan had wanted to make the British economy and working life much more like Germany, as he believed it was Britain's best approach to a more progressive society and sustainable economy. And in many ways, posterity has proven him right. His approach with the unions involved a compromise called the "social contract", whereby unions accepted pay rises lower than than inflation.
By the summer of 1978, with the economy still on the right track, there was gossip of an autumn election. The polls were close, indicating another hung parliament like in early 1974 (another election later on in '74 gave Labour a small majority, but this has been eroded to a minority by losing successive by-elections, so that Callaghan was in government by an informal pact in parliament with the Liberals). Like Gordon Brown in 2007, Callaghan weighed up the options and thought, with the economy on track to improve further, he should wait till the spring of 1979. This decision proved to be fatal.
The longstanding union leader, Jack Jones, was a virtual power-broker with the government. As a fellow supporter of Callaghan's compromise and "social contract", his retirement in 1978 coincided with Callaghan's bold (or arrogant) decision to restrict union pay increases even further than what had been previously agreed, which was also around the same time as the gossip surrounding an autumn election. The result was that Jones' successor took a much stronger line with the government. Once Callaghan had made the decision to opt for a spring '79 election, the dice had been rolled and it didn't take long for the opportunistic element of the unions to strike. The result was the "Winter Of Discontent", which saw the widest organised strike action seen since the 1920s.
The "Winter Of Discontent" was not really as fully organised as the General Strike in the 1920s; it was much more about mass opportunism by workers tired of a decade of wages kept below inflation, and those workers in unions around the country simply began following suit with everyone else. The "Winter Of Discontent" was less a strike than a spontaneous social uprising, unprecedented in modern British history. Since the crisis of the "three day week" of early 1974, unions had been relatively disciplined. But Callaghan's step to restrain wage increases further was the straw that broke the camel's back. In one sense it was as though the spirit of '74 had returned, but the crucial difference was the spontaneous and almost hysterical nature of the events of the winter of '78-'79. Although there were many who did not strike, the sheer random nature of how previously quiet unions (such as those representing grave-diggers, refuse collectors, traffic wardens and lorry drivers) suddenly became militant, was a shock to the establishment, the Labour government included. There was a period during that winter when Hull had become effectively a union-ran city, where employers had to queue like supplicants at the local union office to ask for permission to transport goods. For a number of weeks, it was like the "Paris Commune" had taken over Hull; Leningrad-on-the-Humber.
Such a "social revolution" was bound to terrify some parts of the establishment, and in such an emotive atmosphere, the reckoning was not long in coming. When the election finally came after the government lost a vote of confidence, Callaghan was punished and lost the election.
Thanks to a series of fortuitous events, Thatcher and "The Monetarists" had finally won their place in government.
It is one of politics' "what ifs". If Callaghan had gone for an autumn 1978 election, a hung parliament or small Labour majority was the most likely result. Thatcher would likely have been forced out by her party, and the more moderate "Heathite" side of the party would have likely been able to select a new leader. So "Thatcherism" and "Monetarism" may well have never had the chance to see the light of day at all. And a second term Callaghan, with the backing of the growing revenues from North Sea Oil, may have been able to make Britain's economy more sustainable like Germany's.
Instead, Thatcher was given the chance to implement her theories on the giant laboratory of Britain. But it did not happen right away; in fact Thatcher's first term in many ways resembled a sort of "Heath II": it was unsure of what to do, and her government gave in to a miners strike in early 1981 just like Heath in 1972. Often forgotten now, Thatcher's first term presided over a far worse economy and unemployment levels far worse than even in the 1970s; the economy stagnated for three years, not showing real signs of improvement until after the 1983 election. The Conservatives in the 1983 election didn't even do very well; what saved them was the civil war on the left that split the opposition vote three ways. That, and the "Falklands effect".
It was only after the '83 election that Thatcher felt confident enough to implement her "Monetarist" agenda.
The opening-up of the banking sector led to the free-for-all in the stock market and the practices that led to the financial crisis in the UK. What remained of British manufacturing and heavy industry (i.e. the key industries outside of the South Of England) was allowed to stagnate. Union power was crushed, at the expense of employees' rights. The "right to buy" council houses led to a massive shortfall in the number of affordable houses in the UK in the long term, and was a key factor that led to the dysfunctional housing market we now face. Public sector industries were sold off to the private sector; now we know the result of that in the ever-rising cost of our bills.
And all this because Margaret Thatcher and "The Monetarists" thought that The Seventies was a horrible time for Britain. In reality, the peak of British egalitarianism, where the gap between the rich and the poor was at its smallest, was in the later seventies, during Callaghan's government. The poor generally did well in the 1970s, in spite of inflation. So clearly there is something wrong with the "consensus" formed since that it was a time of economic hardship and poverty. It was not, for the vast majority. The people who "suffered" (in the technical sense) the most in the 1970s were the rich; in particular, the mega-rich, as they were forced to contribute more to the state in taxes, and saw the loss in value of their savings in real terms.
But do we want a more egalitarian and meritocratic society, or one that is designed to benefit those who are already rich?
Monday, February 18, 2013
Cait Reilly versus IDS: why "Workfare" doesn't work
"Workfare" is a system encouraged by Ian Duncan Smith to help the unemployed gain work experience, in order to gain skills that will give them a better chance of getting a job, and at no extra cost to the government or the employer. That's the official explanation, in any case.
IDS believes that it is justifiable that unemployed people work for their benefits as it will help them maintain a more pro-active mindset, as well as keeping them familiar with the working environment.
Internships are a popular form of casual employment in various industries in London, particularly in media, law, fashion and the arts, where employers offer work as an opportunity to a longer-term career prospect of paid employment. The employer typically pays for travel costs.
Indentured Slavery was a system popular in the Southern states of the USA in the 19th century that helped Africans gain long-term work experience in the cotton industry. The initial travel expenses were paid up-front by the employer, and the employer paid the daily expenses for the duration of the African's work experience.
Spot the difference? It's just a matter of presentation and perspective.
The case of Cait Reilly has provoked reactions from opposite ends, as she has succeeded in highlighting the moral bankruptcy at the heart of IDS's approach to generating employment.
Regardless of your opinion of the "Workfare" scheme in general, the first question should be if it is actually effective at helping the unemployed find work. The statistics published so far have shown that people who have taken part in the scheme have been less likely to get a job afterwards than those who didn't. Somehow, the scheme is not just ineffective at it's supposed primary purpose - it is actually detrimental to it.
How this is possible, or is this just some kind of statistical anomaly? Right now, that seems unclear, and it is just possible that the statistics are just a freakish one-off. So on that point right now, it seems fair to reserve judgement. The kindest thing to say about the effectiveness of "Workfare", is that it is not yet proven its worth.
However, what does seem fair to judge is the economic sense, as well as the social destruction, being done to the country by the concept of the "Workfare" scheme. Some commentators, even supposedly from the left, have defended the scheme as supporting work experience, and criticised out-of-work graduates for feeling they are too good to work in a place like "Poundland", as IDS himself implied.
This misses the point, though the point they raise does deserve an answer, which I'll get to later. The real problem with this scheme is not that the work itself is considered lowly. The real problem is that the government are giving the private sector free temporary workers that they would otherwise have to give real jobs to.
I wrote an article some months back explaining how the economics of fascism created an economy where the public sector is there to support the inefficiencies of favoured interests in the private sector, at the expense of employees' (especially unions') rights. In other words, government ministers think it is their job to economically support large private companies from failure, but not individual taxpayers. In an economically-fascist state, the government are a cash-cow for the moneyed private sector industries.
The "Workfare" scheme perpetuates this kind of logic. Tendering-out government services to private companies is another economically-fascist policy, when this policy costs the government far more money than it would if they did it themselves. The government's financially eye-watering use of G4S in the Olympics (rather than just using the police or army to begin with) is a prime example. But the whole point here is that the Conservatives are either so blind in their certainty (or so reckless) that they fail to see the economic lunacy of such practices. Labour's use of PFI was another example of government being a "private sector cash-cow", paying for the costs in the event of failure, but letting the private sector take the profits. The economics of fascism are completely counter-productive to the government's financial health, because they always result in the government being taken for a ride by private sector interests; there the private sector has the best of both worlds (all the profits and no costs), and the government the worst of all worlds, paying for the private sector's failings and having no control over its own expenditure.
As a result, the economics of fascism always lead in inefficiency and incompetence in the private sector as well as the government, and to unsustainable government debt. It seems that fascists generally despise government because they think it doesn't work, so have devised an economic system that makes government fail by leeching the government's money to the private sector elite. In this way, fascism is literally a vampire towards the health of good government. Which is the situation we have now in the UK.
"Workfare" is in effect another form of government tendering to the private sector, where employers have the best of both worlds (employees at no cost to themselves, and can be easily replaced), and the government has the worst (it still pays out state benefits to the "Workfare" participant, but receives no taxes as the person is not on a taxable salary). This is why such a scheme makes no economic sense at all: it costs the government everything, and costs the private sector nothing.
This then has a detrimental knock-on effect to the job market overall. Every job for free that is taken up by the "Workfare" scheme is a potential opening for a real paid job, one that gives someone a salary and boosts government tax receipts (and whose salary feeds back into the economy generally). So the the government are also shooting themselves in the foot a second time. The scheme is therefore creating poverty and dependency in the long-term by potentially creating an entire sub-class of government-subsidized workers on the beck and call of whichever employer feels like getting something for nothing. There are already an increasing number of part-time and temporary staff at the lower end of the job market: this scheme is likely to make that situation even worse.
The final criticism is creating the precedent of unemployed people having to work to earn their government benefit, which in any case sounds like an ironic joke. This seems even slightly sadistic. If an unemployed person wishes to gain work experience, there are plenty of charities or volunteering jobs around, especially since government recently withdrew funding from many charitable organisations, and are crying out for help. This was the point that Cait Reilly made: she already had a voluntary job in the sector she was educated in.
Even so, why do the unemployed need to be forced to work for the benefits that they are entitled to through the taxes they have paid into the system? Since when has it become fashionable to assume that unemployed people don't have jobs because it's their fault, and therefore should be forced to work for practically nothing? This just feeds into the easy (lazy) thinking that being unemployed means you are bone-idle. Not only that, it implies that the government and IDS in particular somehow equate £60 a week with an employee's salary. It is not: JSA is a basic sum of money to pay for the bare essentials, nothing more. It may be true that there are some who are in work and who do not earn a great deal more than JSA per week, but that is the fault of the employer and the wider economy, not the fault of the unemployed. If wages are low compared to the cost of living, do something to raise the wages or lower the cost of living; do not punish those who don't even have a job in the first place.
Lastly, there is the point IDS mentioned about unemployed graduates feeling they are "too good" for menial jobs like in "Poundland". Whatever his views, the fact that there are not the relevant jobs in the sector they trained in, or that they gained a degree in a non-vocational subject, is due to a combination of government and private sector shortsightedness and poor strategic planning. Wanting half of young people to have a degree is a noble government aim, but pointless unless you expect to have thousands of highly-educated shelf-stackers. A similar criticism can be levelled at the private sector heavyweights who always demanded a degree (even regardless of the discipline) in order to get the most basic white-collar job.
There is more to education than university: vocational training has proven to be far more useful in the long-term to a young person's career; and proper advice about the true state of affairs in the workplace would be of far better use to a young person, so they can make an informed decision about if they should take the time to get a degree in the first place, or just make an earlier start on the career ladder.
But one thing is clear: "Workfare" doesn't work, in any real sense of the word.
IDS believes that it is justifiable that unemployed people work for their benefits as it will help them maintain a more pro-active mindset, as well as keeping them familiar with the working environment.
Internships are a popular form of casual employment in various industries in London, particularly in media, law, fashion and the arts, where employers offer work as an opportunity to a longer-term career prospect of paid employment. The employer typically pays for travel costs.
Indentured Slavery was a system popular in the Southern states of the USA in the 19th century that helped Africans gain long-term work experience in the cotton industry. The initial travel expenses were paid up-front by the employer, and the employer paid the daily expenses for the duration of the African's work experience.
Spot the difference? It's just a matter of presentation and perspective.
The case of Cait Reilly has provoked reactions from opposite ends, as she has succeeded in highlighting the moral bankruptcy at the heart of IDS's approach to generating employment.
Regardless of your opinion of the "Workfare" scheme in general, the first question should be if it is actually effective at helping the unemployed find work. The statistics published so far have shown that people who have taken part in the scheme have been less likely to get a job afterwards than those who didn't. Somehow, the scheme is not just ineffective at it's supposed primary purpose - it is actually detrimental to it.
How this is possible, or is this just some kind of statistical anomaly? Right now, that seems unclear, and it is just possible that the statistics are just a freakish one-off. So on that point right now, it seems fair to reserve judgement. The kindest thing to say about the effectiveness of "Workfare", is that it is not yet proven its worth.
However, what does seem fair to judge is the economic sense, as well as the social destruction, being done to the country by the concept of the "Workfare" scheme. Some commentators, even supposedly from the left, have defended the scheme as supporting work experience, and criticised out-of-work graduates for feeling they are too good to work in a place like "Poundland", as IDS himself implied.
This misses the point, though the point they raise does deserve an answer, which I'll get to later. The real problem with this scheme is not that the work itself is considered lowly. The real problem is that the government are giving the private sector free temporary workers that they would otherwise have to give real jobs to.
I wrote an article some months back explaining how the economics of fascism created an economy where the public sector is there to support the inefficiencies of favoured interests in the private sector, at the expense of employees' (especially unions') rights. In other words, government ministers think it is their job to economically support large private companies from failure, but not individual taxpayers. In an economically-fascist state, the government are a cash-cow for the moneyed private sector industries.
The "Workfare" scheme perpetuates this kind of logic. Tendering-out government services to private companies is another economically-fascist policy, when this policy costs the government far more money than it would if they did it themselves. The government's financially eye-watering use of G4S in the Olympics (rather than just using the police or army to begin with) is a prime example. But the whole point here is that the Conservatives are either so blind in their certainty (or so reckless) that they fail to see the economic lunacy of such practices. Labour's use of PFI was another example of government being a "private sector cash-cow", paying for the costs in the event of failure, but letting the private sector take the profits. The economics of fascism are completely counter-productive to the government's financial health, because they always result in the government being taken for a ride by private sector interests; there the private sector has the best of both worlds (all the profits and no costs), and the government the worst of all worlds, paying for the private sector's failings and having no control over its own expenditure.
As a result, the economics of fascism always lead in inefficiency and incompetence in the private sector as well as the government, and to unsustainable government debt. It seems that fascists generally despise government because they think it doesn't work, so have devised an economic system that makes government fail by leeching the government's money to the private sector elite. In this way, fascism is literally a vampire towards the health of good government. Which is the situation we have now in the UK.
"Workfare" is in effect another form of government tendering to the private sector, where employers have the best of both worlds (employees at no cost to themselves, and can be easily replaced), and the government has the worst (it still pays out state benefits to the "Workfare" participant, but receives no taxes as the person is not on a taxable salary). This is why such a scheme makes no economic sense at all: it costs the government everything, and costs the private sector nothing.
This then has a detrimental knock-on effect to the job market overall. Every job for free that is taken up by the "Workfare" scheme is a potential opening for a real paid job, one that gives someone a salary and boosts government tax receipts (and whose salary feeds back into the economy generally). So the the government are also shooting themselves in the foot a second time. The scheme is therefore creating poverty and dependency in the long-term by potentially creating an entire sub-class of government-subsidized workers on the beck and call of whichever employer feels like getting something for nothing. There are already an increasing number of part-time and temporary staff at the lower end of the job market: this scheme is likely to make that situation even worse.
The final criticism is creating the precedent of unemployed people having to work to earn their government benefit, which in any case sounds like an ironic joke. This seems even slightly sadistic. If an unemployed person wishes to gain work experience, there are plenty of charities or volunteering jobs around, especially since government recently withdrew funding from many charitable organisations, and are crying out for help. This was the point that Cait Reilly made: she already had a voluntary job in the sector she was educated in.
Even so, why do the unemployed need to be forced to work for the benefits that they are entitled to through the taxes they have paid into the system? Since when has it become fashionable to assume that unemployed people don't have jobs because it's their fault, and therefore should be forced to work for practically nothing? This just feeds into the easy (lazy) thinking that being unemployed means you are bone-idle. Not only that, it implies that the government and IDS in particular somehow equate £60 a week with an employee's salary. It is not: JSA is a basic sum of money to pay for the bare essentials, nothing more. It may be true that there are some who are in work and who do not earn a great deal more than JSA per week, but that is the fault of the employer and the wider economy, not the fault of the unemployed. If wages are low compared to the cost of living, do something to raise the wages or lower the cost of living; do not punish those who don't even have a job in the first place.
Lastly, there is the point IDS mentioned about unemployed graduates feeling they are "too good" for menial jobs like in "Poundland". Whatever his views, the fact that there are not the relevant jobs in the sector they trained in, or that they gained a degree in a non-vocational subject, is due to a combination of government and private sector shortsightedness and poor strategic planning. Wanting half of young people to have a degree is a noble government aim, but pointless unless you expect to have thousands of highly-educated shelf-stackers. A similar criticism can be levelled at the private sector heavyweights who always demanded a degree (even regardless of the discipline) in order to get the most basic white-collar job.
There is more to education than university: vocational training has proven to be far more useful in the long-term to a young person's career; and proper advice about the true state of affairs in the workplace would be of far better use to a young person, so they can make an informed decision about if they should take the time to get a degree in the first place, or just make an earlier start on the career ladder.
But one thing is clear: "Workfare" doesn't work, in any real sense of the word.
Benefit cheats and Tax cheats : why, in the West, corruption is a luxury good
What is "corruption"?
The generally-understood idea of "corruption" is when power and influence is used in immoral and exclusive ways, commonly by-passing law and socially-acceptable norms. More specifically, when most people think of "corruption" they think of bribery and brown envelopes, Swiss bank accounts and social deprivation.
These things are what existed in the toppled regimes of the "Arab Spring", and are one of the main reasons why those Arab populations finally turned their resigned frustration into vigorous revolution. It is corruption that keeps a potentially-rich country poor.
Africa is a continent rich in resources, but the wealth of those resources is only felt by the ruling elites. The DR Congo is a prime example of this: a vast nation, which contains the world's largest supply of rare metals needed for much of modern technology (such as mobile phones). On paper, DR Congo should be one of the world's richest countries, but due to corruption and malign foreign influence, it has been a war zone for the last fifteen years; Africa's "Great War".
When the corrupt ruling elite of a country ignore the law to feather their own nests, one way they stay in power is by either destroying other powerful factions, or by indulging them. In the Third World, when corrupt regimes are not killing, imprisoning or persecuting those deemed a threat, they are offering them a piece of the action. This latter form is more commonly called "cronyism". This is how Third World dictators (for example, former military leaders) keep their hold on power.
The "piece of the action", the method that the corrupt ruling elite use, is usually a system of bribery and patronage. In Third World dictatorships, government money that is given to ministers or military leaders is the prize of the ruler, an insurance for loyalty for the minister to dispose of as they wish (e.g. in a Swiss bank account). Just as important, the role also gives the individual ministers virtual omnipotence over their supposed underlings; and as such, demand loyalty in hard cash (i.e bribes). This then trickles down through the hierarchy, as each manager at each level is required to give a bribe to his relevant superior under pain of dismissal. Thus corruption and bribery runs from even the lowliest ministry clerk (who subtly demands a bribe for the most basic service to the public).
For the real reason that bribery exists in such a state is as an instrument of psychological terror. What prestige the ruler of the corrupt elite gives, he can also take away. In corrupt Third World states, a dictator offers a ministry to a favoured individual under probation; unless the dictator has special reason to fear the individual (by keeping an enemy sweet and under close watch), the newly-appointed minister knows the best way to ensure his position is to get as much money as possible from his underlings, to be used as a periodic "gift" to the leader. Thus bribery becomes a weapon of government terror; pay your dues, or risk the wrath of your superior. And "wrath" in a country without rules is simply whatever the person in influence is capable of.
This is the primer in "corruption". The West has generally been free of large-scale corruption for the last hundred years or more, depending on how wide your definition is. But, as I said at the start, what is "corruption"?
Corruption has never really left some aspects of Western society; it simply became more refined. I wrote before about Britain's establishment here, and the link between corruption and incompetence. In the Third World, corruption is a cancer that infects every level of society, as explained above. Corruption no longer infects every level of Western society; rather, corruption is something that only the richest can afford.
In the Third World, corruption is almost egalitarian in how is spread through every level of society. In Africa, if you pay the bribe the right person, you can get what you want. In the West, corruption is a luxury good: only the richest can afford the fees.
Consider the number of scandals - be it banking practices, tax scams - that cost the UK government billions in revenue. The money lost through these corrupt practices of the elite dwarf into insignificance the petty fraud carried-out the "benefit cheats" widely-reported in the media. But it is easier for the government to target those at the low end of society for persecution. This is a practice right out of a corrupt Third World dictators' handbook. When the Conservative government feels challenged, rather than tackle the corrupt system and those individuals considered part of the British "establishment", it isolates those who it sees as an easy target - the petty fraudsters at the lowest end of the social spectrum.
Ian Duncan Smith is another example of the Conservatives' instinct for "divide and rule" tactics. For those with the least to lose and most to gain from social revolution, it is in the elite's interest to ensure they are as divided as possible: Osborne's "strivers versus skivers" is another variation on the same theme. Whether this is by design or (more likely) a combination of education and gut instinct, people like the Conservatives have a vested interest in "the system": the British "establishment" that has raised them, therefore they fear anything that threatens change.
"Divide and rule" is how corrupt elites stay in power, from Africa to the UK. Corruption kills societies because it breeds incompetence and inefficiency. When there is no rational oversight, and when everything is influenced by not what you know, but who you know or how much money can buy you influence, intelligence becomes irrelevant.
One important reason why the financial crisis happened is because those in positions of responsibility in the finance sector failed to ask questions. As long as the system generated money, they didn't ask why things worked. In the end, the system crashed because no-one knew how anything really worked. No-one has realised that the system they relied on was a fraud, literally. Everyone was defrauding everyone else, but no-one thought this was wrong - it was normal at the time.
This is exactly the same psychology that exists in corrupt Third World states. When everyone around you is corrupt, it no longer seems like corruption: it seems normal.
Back to the financial crisis, because those in positions of responsibility all had similar educations, were from the similar backgrounds, often had known each other's families for years, they had all progressed to their positions of authority thanks to the same corrupt system. Therefore, they assumed that they knew what they were doing simply because of their backgrounds. David Cameron and George Osborne share the same deluded psychology.
Corruption therefore breeds incompetence because people do not gain power through meritocratic ability, but through influence or other means. Thus you have people who are put in positions of power far beyond their ability. And as they delude themselves into thinking they have attained power fairly, they are more likely to become vain and arrogant, haughty and over-bearing. As living proof of this, a number of Conservative ministers seem to fit into this personality set. Worse, such a corrupt system makes these incompetent people make mistakes, and they naturally react by persecuting those they feel most threatened by once their mistakes have been discovered. Thus corruption is an evil of society: it breeds on amorality, it disregards intelligent thinking and efficiency, it rewards incompetence, and punishes all those who seek to change the status quo.
In this way, a corrupt society is a morally evil one, too. The process of moral degradation as described above as much describes what happens when you put psychopaths in positions of power. This also explains why psychopaths thrive in corrupt societies, and why there are likely to be a disproportionately-high number of psychopaths in corrupt societies.
Psychopaths are products of childhood chaos, and thrive on social chaos. And corruption, by definition, creates chaos.
The generally-understood idea of "corruption" is when power and influence is used in immoral and exclusive ways, commonly by-passing law and socially-acceptable norms. More specifically, when most people think of "corruption" they think of bribery and brown envelopes, Swiss bank accounts and social deprivation.
These things are what existed in the toppled regimes of the "Arab Spring", and are one of the main reasons why those Arab populations finally turned their resigned frustration into vigorous revolution. It is corruption that keeps a potentially-rich country poor.
Africa is a continent rich in resources, but the wealth of those resources is only felt by the ruling elites. The DR Congo is a prime example of this: a vast nation, which contains the world's largest supply of rare metals needed for much of modern technology (such as mobile phones). On paper, DR Congo should be one of the world's richest countries, but due to corruption and malign foreign influence, it has been a war zone for the last fifteen years; Africa's "Great War".
When the corrupt ruling elite of a country ignore the law to feather their own nests, one way they stay in power is by either destroying other powerful factions, or by indulging them. In the Third World, when corrupt regimes are not killing, imprisoning or persecuting those deemed a threat, they are offering them a piece of the action. This latter form is more commonly called "cronyism". This is how Third World dictators (for example, former military leaders) keep their hold on power.
The "piece of the action", the method that the corrupt ruling elite use, is usually a system of bribery and patronage. In Third World dictatorships, government money that is given to ministers or military leaders is the prize of the ruler, an insurance for loyalty for the minister to dispose of as they wish (e.g. in a Swiss bank account). Just as important, the role also gives the individual ministers virtual omnipotence over their supposed underlings; and as such, demand loyalty in hard cash (i.e bribes). This then trickles down through the hierarchy, as each manager at each level is required to give a bribe to his relevant superior under pain of dismissal. Thus corruption and bribery runs from even the lowliest ministry clerk (who subtly demands a bribe for the most basic service to the public).
For the real reason that bribery exists in such a state is as an instrument of psychological terror. What prestige the ruler of the corrupt elite gives, he can also take away. In corrupt Third World states, a dictator offers a ministry to a favoured individual under probation; unless the dictator has special reason to fear the individual (by keeping an enemy sweet and under close watch), the newly-appointed minister knows the best way to ensure his position is to get as much money as possible from his underlings, to be used as a periodic "gift" to the leader. Thus bribery becomes a weapon of government terror; pay your dues, or risk the wrath of your superior. And "wrath" in a country without rules is simply whatever the person in influence is capable of.
This is the primer in "corruption". The West has generally been free of large-scale corruption for the last hundred years or more, depending on how wide your definition is. But, as I said at the start, what is "corruption"?
Corruption has never really left some aspects of Western society; it simply became more refined. I wrote before about Britain's establishment here, and the link between corruption and incompetence. In the Third World, corruption is a cancer that infects every level of society, as explained above. Corruption no longer infects every level of Western society; rather, corruption is something that only the richest can afford.
In the Third World, corruption is almost egalitarian in how is spread through every level of society. In Africa, if you pay the bribe the right person, you can get what you want. In the West, corruption is a luxury good: only the richest can afford the fees.
Consider the number of scandals - be it banking practices, tax scams - that cost the UK government billions in revenue. The money lost through these corrupt practices of the elite dwarf into insignificance the petty fraud carried-out the "benefit cheats" widely-reported in the media. But it is easier for the government to target those at the low end of society for persecution. This is a practice right out of a corrupt Third World dictators' handbook. When the Conservative government feels challenged, rather than tackle the corrupt system and those individuals considered part of the British "establishment", it isolates those who it sees as an easy target - the petty fraudsters at the lowest end of the social spectrum.
Ian Duncan Smith is another example of the Conservatives' instinct for "divide and rule" tactics. For those with the least to lose and most to gain from social revolution, it is in the elite's interest to ensure they are as divided as possible: Osborne's "strivers versus skivers" is another variation on the same theme. Whether this is by design or (more likely) a combination of education and gut instinct, people like the Conservatives have a vested interest in "the system": the British "establishment" that has raised them, therefore they fear anything that threatens change.
"Divide and rule" is how corrupt elites stay in power, from Africa to the UK. Corruption kills societies because it breeds incompetence and inefficiency. When there is no rational oversight, and when everything is influenced by not what you know, but who you know or how much money can buy you influence, intelligence becomes irrelevant.
One important reason why the financial crisis happened is because those in positions of responsibility in the finance sector failed to ask questions. As long as the system generated money, they didn't ask why things worked. In the end, the system crashed because no-one knew how anything really worked. No-one has realised that the system they relied on was a fraud, literally. Everyone was defrauding everyone else, but no-one thought this was wrong - it was normal at the time.
This is exactly the same psychology that exists in corrupt Third World states. When everyone around you is corrupt, it no longer seems like corruption: it seems normal.
Back to the financial crisis, because those in positions of responsibility all had similar educations, were from the similar backgrounds, often had known each other's families for years, they had all progressed to their positions of authority thanks to the same corrupt system. Therefore, they assumed that they knew what they were doing simply because of their backgrounds. David Cameron and George Osborne share the same deluded psychology.
Corruption therefore breeds incompetence because people do not gain power through meritocratic ability, but through influence or other means. Thus you have people who are put in positions of power far beyond their ability. And as they delude themselves into thinking they have attained power fairly, they are more likely to become vain and arrogant, haughty and over-bearing. As living proof of this, a number of Conservative ministers seem to fit into this personality set. Worse, such a corrupt system makes these incompetent people make mistakes, and they naturally react by persecuting those they feel most threatened by once their mistakes have been discovered. Thus corruption is an evil of society: it breeds on amorality, it disregards intelligent thinking and efficiency, it rewards incompetence, and punishes all those who seek to change the status quo.
In this way, a corrupt society is a morally evil one, too. The process of moral degradation as described above as much describes what happens when you put psychopaths in positions of power. This also explains why psychopaths thrive in corrupt societies, and why there are likely to be a disproportionately-high number of psychopaths in corrupt societies.
Psychopaths are products of childhood chaos, and thrive on social chaos. And corruption, by definition, creates chaos.
Friday, February 1, 2013
Britain's establishment, public schools, Oxbridge and incompetence
It has been said that Britain has one of the most hierarchical and entrenched societies in the world, masquerading as its most open and democratic. While its elite is far from being the worst in the world, this is something that has been learned through hard lessons over the past four centuries, so that now the average British person is so familiar with his lot that it is hard for him to think of changing the status quo at the top.
I wrote an article previously about the different ways how Britain's elite maintains its position in British society. One of the most important ways that the British establishment is able to maintain its status and power is through its hold on education; namely the public school system and Oxbridge.
The important thing to ask about the public school system is: "why does it exist?".
The public school system was established before the Industrial Revolution as a way to ensure an educated, governing class. Once the British Empire existed in earnest, it was clear that a larger number of civil servants would be needed. This same system, by and large, exists almost unchanged today; the only difference is that the pre-pubescent children attending public school these days are there through the social ambition created by the parents (both foreign and domestic), and fed by the establishment to provide a constant supply of blood.
The British Empire no longer exists; therefore, it was necessary for the "establishment" to adapt to the times, and make a "public school education" as the best way to ensure a secure future for the children of ambitious parents with money to spare.
Parents who can afford to take their children in private education, do so for the sake of ensuring their children get the best education possible. These parents also say that they have the freedom to choose the best education for their children, and that it is wrong to begrudge them the opportunity if they have it. Any other person would do the same thing given the chance, they fairly imply. Lastly, they say they only use the private system because the state system cannot guarantee the same kind of quality that gives their children a lift up to the highest levels of society.
The public school system is therefore a leftover of the British Empire, updated to modern times by appealing to the vanity of people with means. Foreigners (as much as middle class parents) put their children into this system because it effectively buys their children an advantage impossible in their own country. This much is clear and undeniable.
In other words, private education is a form of bribe. By paying the fees to the private school, the parents are (as much as realistically possible) ensuring an advantage for their children unavailable to those of lesser means. Pay money to the school, and the children will go to "Oxbridge": this is the clear thought of the parents, and the implied suggestion of the school in question.
It is a form of corruption, and therefore immoral in a civilised society. This system is what maintains the British establishment, and ensures that the top ten per cent of society will always lead a life separate and unattainable to the vast majority of the rest of society.
Saying that this form of education is a "freedom of choice" matter misses the point: because only those people with the means to afford it have the choice. It is hardly as though poor people would choose state education if they knew that private education is better. To state the blindingly obvious, private education is better simply because of the fees that keep the school funded. It is the same for "Oxbridge". It is only money that maintains the quality of this system. There in nothing innate that makes private education better. Private schools may as well all have a sign above their entrance that says: "We are good because you pay us".
It is also this reason also why private school fees have a habit of increasing over time. In a reverse of free market logic, as private schools become more competitive, they have to improve their facilities to maintain their advantage, which means higher fees, making it more and more exclusive over time. This makes the private school system even more dysfunctional compared to the state sector.
But if it is "only money" that makes the private school system better, then in theory all these schools could become incorporated into a national government-ran system, if the government had the money through taxation. Alternatively, the rich philanthropic elite could be easily convinced to annually contribute to such high-quality educational establishments to ensure their continued "free-status" (and thus avoid anyone having to pay fees). That way, these "top quality" schools would be available to people on merit alone rather than the size of the parents' wallet, if the government had the money (i.e. will) to make such patronage unnecessary. And the same for "Oxbridge". There are many other methods of financing higher education than the status quo..
Of course, such humane logic assumes that those in the top ten percent actually care about genuine meritocracy. For many, the thought terrifies them.
So parents' argument in favour of "freedom of choice" and "wanting the best for their children" are distractions, and are symptom of the failings that the private system entrench in society. The logic becomes self-fulfilling, perpetuating the class system for eternity. Meanwhile, parents with the means shrug their shoulders at the status quo, pay up and "pay in" to the system.
But does "the system" they pay into really work for Britain?
There is another, more pertinent, question that the British establishment and the public school system should answer, apart from the moral questions. It is the question that few people seem to think about, or ask.
If the "public school" system is designed to create a well-educated governing class, then why are the people it produces so useless as it?
The current cabinet of the government is largely a product of this public school and "Oxbridge" system. And yet, the current crop of ministers are perhaps the most incompetent collection of individuals to have run Britain in living memory. The same point can be made for those people responsible for the financial industry, that has been the driving force behind the British economy for thirty years, and responsible for creating the greatest financial disaster for a hundred years.
So the most revealing thing about the British establishment is not so much the question of morality as incompetence. The education system is not only immoral; far more devastating, it is not fit for purpose. It is an extremely inefficient way of financing success in Britain as a whole, and completely unsuitable to the modern needs of Britain.
The problem is that it is fundamentally based on a system that is at least fifty years out-of-date. The British Empire no longer exists, therefore Britain no longer needs a "governing class", an "establishment". This form of education system is designed to sustain an elite that has lost touch with reality.
For an education system to work efficiently, it has to adapt to changes, as well as predict them, and create a syllabus accordingly. But the public school system, by definition, is designed to perpetuate the status quo; it is far less flexible in being able to reflect changes in society. The public school system is designed for educating those who have money to get more money and greater status; it is not designed to improve Britain. But because those who are at the top of society are educated in the most expensive schools in the country, they naturally assume this means they're the best qualified and best-educated. This explains why the likes of Cameron and Osborne are so sure of their views, but have so little idea about how to run the country and the economy. The same is true for the financial industry.
It is a truism that corruption breeds incompetence. The evidence suggests the same is true for Britain's "public school" system. Getting a career in the top echelons of society is mostly about having the right "markers" (such as an Eton and "Oxbridge" education) and connections, not brains. It's natural that in a system designed for those with money, those with most money are thought to be the smartest. Once you are in the higher echelons, surrounded by like-minded complacency, no-one is likely to challenge you intellectually. Cameron and Osborne, the two leaders of the country, are living proof of that. Private education is designed at getting those "markers" and high salary career, but there is little evidence that it offers value of money in terms of "real" education and developing analytical intelligence.
There is far more anecdotal evidence to suggest that state education offers a far better "value for money" in terms of preparing children for life and how to make a career on their own initiative, as well as giving you some first-hand experience in the social diversity of British society.
However, if you want your child to be a rich, well-connected, amoral, misanthropic psychopath, then put them into a public school. The choice is yours; if you have the money.
I wrote an article previously about the different ways how Britain's elite maintains its position in British society. One of the most important ways that the British establishment is able to maintain its status and power is through its hold on education; namely the public school system and Oxbridge.
The important thing to ask about the public school system is: "why does it exist?".
The public school system was established before the Industrial Revolution as a way to ensure an educated, governing class. Once the British Empire existed in earnest, it was clear that a larger number of civil servants would be needed. This same system, by and large, exists almost unchanged today; the only difference is that the pre-pubescent children attending public school these days are there through the social ambition created by the parents (both foreign and domestic), and fed by the establishment to provide a constant supply of blood.
The British Empire no longer exists; therefore, it was necessary for the "establishment" to adapt to the times, and make a "public school education" as the best way to ensure a secure future for the children of ambitious parents with money to spare.
Parents who can afford to take their children in private education, do so for the sake of ensuring their children get the best education possible. These parents also say that they have the freedom to choose the best education for their children, and that it is wrong to begrudge them the opportunity if they have it. Any other person would do the same thing given the chance, they fairly imply. Lastly, they say they only use the private system because the state system cannot guarantee the same kind of quality that gives their children a lift up to the highest levels of society.
The public school system is therefore a leftover of the British Empire, updated to modern times by appealing to the vanity of people with means. Foreigners (as much as middle class parents) put their children into this system because it effectively buys their children an advantage impossible in their own country. This much is clear and undeniable.
In other words, private education is a form of bribe. By paying the fees to the private school, the parents are (as much as realistically possible) ensuring an advantage for their children unavailable to those of lesser means. Pay money to the school, and the children will go to "Oxbridge": this is the clear thought of the parents, and the implied suggestion of the school in question.
It is a form of corruption, and therefore immoral in a civilised society. This system is what maintains the British establishment, and ensures that the top ten per cent of society will always lead a life separate and unattainable to the vast majority of the rest of society.
Saying that this form of education is a "freedom of choice" matter misses the point: because only those people with the means to afford it have the choice. It is hardly as though poor people would choose state education if they knew that private education is better. To state the blindingly obvious, private education is better simply because of the fees that keep the school funded. It is the same for "Oxbridge". It is only money that maintains the quality of this system. There in nothing innate that makes private education better. Private schools may as well all have a sign above their entrance that says: "We are good because you pay us".
It is also this reason also why private school fees have a habit of increasing over time. In a reverse of free market logic, as private schools become more competitive, they have to improve their facilities to maintain their advantage, which means higher fees, making it more and more exclusive over time. This makes the private school system even more dysfunctional compared to the state sector.
But if it is "only money" that makes the private school system better, then in theory all these schools could become incorporated into a national government-ran system, if the government had the money through taxation. Alternatively, the rich philanthropic elite could be easily convinced to annually contribute to such high-quality educational establishments to ensure their continued "free-status" (and thus avoid anyone having to pay fees). That way, these "top quality" schools would be available to people on merit alone rather than the size of the parents' wallet, if the government had the money (i.e. will) to make such patronage unnecessary. And the same for "Oxbridge". There are many other methods of financing higher education than the status quo..
Of course, such humane logic assumes that those in the top ten percent actually care about genuine meritocracy. For many, the thought terrifies them.
So parents' argument in favour of "freedom of choice" and "wanting the best for their children" are distractions, and are symptom of the failings that the private system entrench in society. The logic becomes self-fulfilling, perpetuating the class system for eternity. Meanwhile, parents with the means shrug their shoulders at the status quo, pay up and "pay in" to the system.
But does "the system" they pay into really work for Britain?
There is another, more pertinent, question that the British establishment and the public school system should answer, apart from the moral questions. It is the question that few people seem to think about, or ask.
If the "public school" system is designed to create a well-educated governing class, then why are the people it produces so useless as it?
The current cabinet of the government is largely a product of this public school and "Oxbridge" system. And yet, the current crop of ministers are perhaps the most incompetent collection of individuals to have run Britain in living memory. The same point can be made for those people responsible for the financial industry, that has been the driving force behind the British economy for thirty years, and responsible for creating the greatest financial disaster for a hundred years.
So the most revealing thing about the British establishment is not so much the question of morality as incompetence. The education system is not only immoral; far more devastating, it is not fit for purpose. It is an extremely inefficient way of financing success in Britain as a whole, and completely unsuitable to the modern needs of Britain.
The problem is that it is fundamentally based on a system that is at least fifty years out-of-date. The British Empire no longer exists, therefore Britain no longer needs a "governing class", an "establishment". This form of education system is designed to sustain an elite that has lost touch with reality.
For an education system to work efficiently, it has to adapt to changes, as well as predict them, and create a syllabus accordingly. But the public school system, by definition, is designed to perpetuate the status quo; it is far less flexible in being able to reflect changes in society. The public school system is designed for educating those who have money to get more money and greater status; it is not designed to improve Britain. But because those who are at the top of society are educated in the most expensive schools in the country, they naturally assume this means they're the best qualified and best-educated. This explains why the likes of Cameron and Osborne are so sure of their views, but have so little idea about how to run the country and the economy. The same is true for the financial industry.
It is a truism that corruption breeds incompetence. The evidence suggests the same is true for Britain's "public school" system. Getting a career in the top echelons of society is mostly about having the right "markers" (such as an Eton and "Oxbridge" education) and connections, not brains. It's natural that in a system designed for those with money, those with most money are thought to be the smartest. Once you are in the higher echelons, surrounded by like-minded complacency, no-one is likely to challenge you intellectually. Cameron and Osborne, the two leaders of the country, are living proof of that. Private education is designed at getting those "markers" and high salary career, but there is little evidence that it offers value of money in terms of "real" education and developing analytical intelligence.
There is far more anecdotal evidence to suggest that state education offers a far better "value for money" in terms of preparing children for life and how to make a career on their own initiative, as well as giving you some first-hand experience in the social diversity of British society.
However, if you want your child to be a rich, well-connected, amoral, misanthropic psychopath, then put them into a public school. The choice is yours; if you have the money.
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