Social Care, Intergenerational Equity, and Shouting at the Radio

So, as it turns out, my first re-engagement with writing is merely shouting at the radio. Specifically, the panel on Any Questions, and the facile level of political argument on show over the social care proposals in the conservative manifesto.

The proposal would make pensioners with assets worth over £100 thousand pay towards their social care cost.

The Tory argues intergenerational fairness: putting the burden of care on old rich people rather than young poor people.

John McDonald counters with the unfairness of making the unlucky suffer twice: it is surely fairer to spread the risk over lots of people (‘socialise’ the cost of care).

And that’s pretty much the discussion, and I’m staring in mute rage at the radio.

It’s the duplicitous framing that I hate. The faux-boldness of taking on the grey-haired voters. This policy doesn’t place the burden on old wealthy people. It places the burden on old people who live in houses (most) who are suffering and need support. These groups will intersect, certainly, but they are not the same. The group that will pay is smaller (so they will pay more) and not necessarily wealthy (so they can afford it less). And many of them are suffering from dementia.

Who should pay? One side presents it as a choice between the hard-pressed young taxpayer or the old asset-rich pensioner. The other between ‘all of us’ and the widow on her state pension who will have to sell her house. Neither are true, both are true, but certainly both are disengenuously framed, politically facile, and more frustratingly, if both desires were genuinely held there is an obvious way forward.

If you want to actually want to tackle intergenerational inequality, fund social care out of the amassed wealth that the over 50s have though generous final salary pensions, housing price booms, large savings and long term secure jobs, and reduce the inequality-generating cycle of inherited wealth, you can do it in a way that also socialises costs. For instance, inheritance tax. Or other forms of wealth tax. Raise a tax on those amassed assets and fund social care with it.

But that would mean introducing not a charge on the old and ill (what a strong and compassionate policy that is) but a tax on the old and rich. And even Theresa doesn’t have the strength to genuinely take them on.

Haze and Brambles

First post for three years. I’ve tried, occasionally, but too often when I try to think the thoughts that come are not just restless but unable to find a footing, to get past the first couple of paces. The world of sense around me feels crystal sharp when I’m not looking at it, but when I look it’s hazy. When I take steps into it the haze sometimes throws up brambles and sometimes vanishes in my hands. The things of value seem to be a little further over there, crystal clear again where I’m not going. Thoughts of value seem to have been like happiness, thought when not trying to think them, when not articulated.

What silences me? What keeps me from the campaign trail, makes me equivocate, play devil’s advocate to all sides? What puts the tiredness in the corners of my eyes?

Comfort isn’t enough to do it, the salaried life that doesn’t need a voice of its own to get by. Humility isn’t enough, though I am suspicious of the assumed authority that comes with my intellectual white male voice and concerned it also makes its way too stridently into text. Loss of confidence, perhaps, in the overly theoretical and idealistic tenor of my thoughts when the truer things are human and messy. I have thought I was pausing to learn, knowing enough to know that I don’t know and that other people don’t either. Or else holding myself back from perfectionism, not speaking a sentence of French until I knew it was exactly right, not expressing well enough to express at all. Disappointment, that comes into it, that even if I could talk it wouldn’t do what needs to be done and what nothing I have seen do: loose the earth from the fundamental destructive human forces of loving our own comfort more than the other’s life and taking what we want if we can get it; and the things that follow: inequality, the ungovernability of money and desire, the extinguishing of those people and places unable to demonstrate their value to those with power. Maybe disappointment alike with myself, that I am sitting back now and being human and living well enough without fighting and without changing what needs to be changed. Maybe, the ongoing grief that my big brother is stopped now and isn’t growing with me any more. Maybe it was just winter.

So I stopped reading theory, as there was nothing more I could read that I would be able to do anything with, and I started watching Netflix instead.

Well, let’s call all that a season. Partly at least because it may be, and because that way perhaps I can feel it changing. Maybe I’m getting less comfortable, less humble and happier to accept and present my voice as is, grandiose and theoretical though it can be. Maybe I’m even getting content with the idea I might not be as clever as I come across and that I might reveal as much in what I say. Maybe I’m ok with a contribution that doesn’t quite manage do what needs to be done on the global sustainability scale. There are other scales.

Hence: a blogpost. And more to follow, by way of exercise. I plan to do what made me briefly a mathematician, what I did before, to identify and critique structures and patterns that I see. I expect to get angry occasionally. I expect to experiment a bit more with storytelling, and with form and content. I expect to be restless, to skit around. Most of it may miss the mark by a short or long way, retaining too much mist or tangled in brambles or else too strident and clear to be true. But, with the acknowledgement that this is still largely practicing my sentences in my head before letting them loose on life, it is yet the start of speaking again.


Skin-deep localism

Last Saturday, I attended a public debate with George Ferguson, Mayor of Bristol, and Stephen Williams, MP organised by Bristol for Democracy.

I’ve followed with interest the changing set-up of governance of Bristol and its relationship to how actually empowered and involved citizens of Bristol are, and there are many aspects of the debate I find fascinating.  On Saturday, I was struck by how warm and genuinely meant the sentiments were about dispersal of power, yet how much the actual words and arguments were centralist at heart.

George Ferguson wants to ‘devolve as much power as is sensible and non-strategic to local areas’.  Stephen Williams wants to ‘take power from people like me and give it to people like him [George]’.

Yet actually articulated in the room, we had a far stronger calls for centralisation.  Here’s a selection:

  • That strong elected leaders are needed to push through things that people don’t like (in Bristol, controlled parking zones).
  • That anything ‘strategic’ needs to be kept at a higher level (obvious if you think in terms of centralisation, and the notion of lateral strategic coordination is futile).
  • That, actually, we don’t want to take tough decisions ourselves, we’d rather let the big bad ruler take the risk and the blame, we need personalities to outsource our responsibilities to.
  • That we cannot risk ‘benefits tourism’ or have locally distinct policies that really impact on quality of life because then, god forbid, people will want to move here.

And all the way through, the speakers sat too contentedly in the paternalist mindset of downward delegation – that the centre grant localities power when it is non-strategic and they demonstrate that they are responsible – rather than on upward delegation – that people temporarily granted power to coordinating bodies when they demonstrate they need it.  In the absence of a written constitution (an absence identified by the speakers and blamed for a lot of confusion over roles), the centre should serve at the whim of the local, not the other way around.

It wasn’t all as centralist.  There were calls for some specific rebalancing: some in the straightforward arena of money: the level of tax Bristol should keep,and its ability to borrow money against its housing stock.   The cynical cap on council tax increases George talked about I find a particularly disgusting over-centralism.  We want to and would pay to keep services: yet this government will not let us without vast cost and process.  Though surely the government would count the cost of living as a ‘strategic’ issue to keep control of?

Then there was the practical and tactical appeal: There was agreement in principle with the bedroom tax but they wanted to be able to control how it was implemented.  Maybe, just maybe, a local organisation is better than a Whitehall department when it comes to shaping a particular policy for its area.  However – and maybe I am listening with too cynical an ear – it is a small kind of localism that says we can deliver the centre’s policies more effectively if they would only let us, and is happy with the government telling us who to let live in what houses at what rates.

The strongest indignation came from George:  it is intolerable to have to beg the government on an issue of regional logistics.  A local city region is the right level to make strategic decisions about transport in the region, not Whitehall.  But wait: it needs to include the surrounding authorities, and they aren’t playing ball.  So perhaps we need government after all, at least to impose regional centralism (sorry, coordination) in the form of an ITA?

The arguments, assumptions and practises accompanying centralised systems were far more present than those encouraging devolved responsibilities.  Cooperation was assumed too tricky, self-interest too strong.  The job of councillors is to focus on their wards and not try to work together or influence city policy (that would just be ‘political point-scoring’).  Involving people (except via ‘letting them ask questions regularly’) is too expensive: responsibility needs to rest with single individuals and government needs to protect people from self-interested local politics.  Nothing specific at all was mentioned as a contender for devolution to neighbourhood level, and I gather that progress on developing the powers of neighbourhood partnerships has ground to a halt under George.  It is surprising how many powers end up being ‘strategic’.

That this mayor has a rainbow(ish) cabinet, proactive public engagement and has seemed to open up involvement and discussion in the city is personality, not structure.  It’s good.  But it is absolutely not devolving power.

Perhaps I’ll conclude by highlighting the case of whether Bristol could choose to elect its councillors by PR.

Stephen Williams’ response was a natural no: firstly, turkeys don’t vote for Christmas, a self-interested party or Mayor could redesign elections to suit them. Secondly, if you give it to the public – say, in a referendum – the best-funded campaign will win.  So the government will have to set out the rules.  Empowerment falls at the first hurdle: we can’t find a way of giving the power to decide how they are governed, with appropriate safeguards and concerns, to the actual collective of individuals being governed.  They must be guided and protected from maladjusted local power-grabbers by a wise state.

Sorry, Stephen: I’m not taking this.  Of course we could decide how we ran our elections and how we chose who to govern us.  Of course we could design a system that was secure, had locks and safeguards, and protected against future.  But that would present a vision of an organised, competent, self-determined city that is too far outside the mindset of our over-centralised existence. It would perhaps require a level of coordination, collaboration and self-organisation that as a city we do not yet understand quite how to activate.  Progress to a more participative democracy – that is my bent, if you haven’t yet guessed – means designing the kind of city that can choose how it is governed.

We got a promise from George to ask government to allow Bristol to elect its councillors by PR.  We got Stephen supporting the notion in theory, and wondering whether local electoral reform might make it into manifestos.  Perhaps we don’t need to wait for government to see whether it wants to let us.  Perhaps we should activate the city and  draw up a written constitution for Bristol?


As an aside, I can’t let these arguments – both from our Mayor – go without challenge:

  • ‘Well, it worked, didn’t it?’  George said academies have rescued failing schools.  Many things might have worked: democracy is about our participation in choosing what to try, why and how it affects other aspects of life.
  • ‘Don’t like it?  Well, you haven’t listened to the silent majority, and they’re happy with it.’  The best arguments contain enough truth: you can use this line to overrule criticism of anything that more than 50% of the population are apathetic about.  Isn’t participative democracy about empowering those who do care to influence, and design, within the often very broad boundaries of what the silent majority accepts?

The soul of an atom, or, a statistical shroud

Seen from a distance, large numbers of dispersed human actions seem to conform to certain statistical laws and seem patterned, even predictable.  It can be tempting to draw from this a challenge to freedom and a mechanical, rational-economic view of individual behaviour.  It is perhaps more logical, certainly more inspiring, to draw from this a challenge to the concept of the more mechanical principles governing individual agent behaviour in comparable observed situations.
In other words, what we have is the observation that seen from a large enough distance and given enough common parameters and little chance for cooperative organisation, a multitude of agents acting with spontaneity and even free will appear to produce the same statistical and predictable behaviour as a set of simple, modelable actors with mechanical ‘agency’ and a dose of randomness.
What we take from this observation, however, should perhaps not be that we are a combination of mechanics and randomness – this would be assigning a reality rather than a utility to non-real world-models deduced from the maths of patterns.  It perhaps should be, or at least logically is as deducible, that other behaviour in nature that exhibits the same ‘predictability’ and statistical conformity in similar conditions (lack of the ability to cooperatively organise, and broadly common parameters or goals) actually on an individual level are buzzing with their own version of our glorious freedom, self-direction and agency?  That the ‘random’ and ‘spontaneous’ individual atoms have free will, but little chance to make it seen as such?
Of course, this inference the other way – that the presence of statistical patterns with elements of randomness implies the existence of free-willed agents – is clearly as unjustified.
(Thought drawn from ‘The Phenomenon of Man’)
One more thought, to follow:
What distinguishes the expressions of free will that cannot be mistaken for statistical noise from those which can, is a question of connection and coordination. This applies to the connections and coordination that enable our own thoughts to develop and our collected physical and mental being to direct our movement and action, but it also applies to collective human action.  Dispersed, scattered and with few links between us, the economist may be able to predict our mechanistic, value-maximising behaviour.  Connected, coordinated and therefore powerful, we are free to form and develop collective purpose and action that expresses loud and clear the unmistakeable presence of our freedom, creativity and will.  The day atoms arrange themselves into letters, words and paragraphs is the day the powerful of the world sit up, take notice and do precisely what they are told.

Keystone XL pipeline means jobs

George Monbiot’s tweet:

How corporations attack democracy: in this case with overt threats.

Led me to this article:

Keystone XL pipeline: Oil chief issues threat to Obama over decision

Now, let alone the outright industry threats to President Obama, and the particular entanglement of big business interests with union pressure that tries to pin Obama down to supporting the Oilsands pipeline.   Because here, it’s not really the threatened blackmail that is important.  Whether or not the pipeline is built is an issue that impacts on voters, on industry, on jobs, and those against the decision have every right to campaign against it, and let it colour their view of their President in the period leading up to the election.

The problem here isn’t industry pressuring democracy.  It’s that collectively we haven’t got a handle on giving ourselves enough work without overexploiting natural resources.  Exploitation is profitable, and people can’t see alternatives that do a comparable job at providing livelihoods and sustaining communities and lives.

It’s not an issue of democracy being in thrall to big business.   It is that, genuinely, Keystone XL pipeline means jobs.