• Seeking The Middle Ground

    Labour has made its choice. The question now is, will that choice be shared and endorsed by the wider electorate? Ed Miliband must now not only re-energise a party that has been sapped of confidence and enthusiasm, but at the same time reach out to a range of voters who will vote Labour only when they are satisfied that they can do so without prejudicing their interests.

    That unavoidable battle for the middle ground has always been more difficult for the left than for the right. Individual rights and interests – so much the focus of the right – have always had a clearer identity in the forefront of people’s minds and seem to be more directly at risk and impacted by political action than the more diffuse and less clearly defined social concerns highlighted by the left.

    The left’s response to this challenge has often been uncertain. On the one hand, there was the stance that dominated in the early 1980s and that was memorably characterised by Denis Healey as “no compromise with the electorate”. At the other extreme has been New Labour’s adoption of Clintonian triangulation and the conviction that power could be won and held only if Labour’s traditional opponents in the City and the Murdoch press could be placated by conceding to them in advance.

    It was of course the issue of how the Labour party might appeal to the middle ground that prompted the Guardian’s leader-writer, no less, to argue that the supposed greater ability of the elder Miliband to reach out to middle England was enough to get him the nod over his younger brother. It was feared that Ed Miliband’s use of language that would resonate with Labour loyalists would handicap the party in making that essential pitch for uncommitted votes.

    It is certainly true that a leader who fails in that respect can be fatal to Labour’s electoral chances. When Neil Kinnock lost a second general election – and the second, one that could have been won – he concluded that it was his inability, despite his considerable qualities, to reach out to the English middle-class that had cost victory and, to his great credit, he resigned rather than fail again.

    The question is, however, whether the contest for the middle ground necessarily demands a Labour leader who is prepared to dissemble on the core values that brought most Labour activists into politics in the first place. Is it really a pre-condition of a Labour victory that the clear outlines of a programme for reform should be smoothed over so that it is unrecognisable? Is it really the case that the English middle-class is so set in its ways that it will vote for a departure from extreme free-market orthodoxy, despite all its manifest deficiencies, only if it is presented in a sanitised and ersatz form?

    What is it, in any case, that is thought to be so frightening to middle voters about a return to Labour’s core message? Is it the commitment to building an economy on a stronger foundation than the greedy irresponsibility of the City? Or to reducing the inequality that now disfigures and splinters our society? What about ensuring the delivery of high-quality, publicly funded health services and education so that everyone has a fair chance? Or restoring an ethical foundation to the way we deal with the rights and freedoms of our own citizens and those of other countries? And are Keynesian economics really so revolutionary that they cannot be trusted as a guide to resolving our economic problems without asking the most vulnerable to bear the burden? Are these so frightening to uncommitted voters that they cannot be articulated clearly and persuasively?

    The authentic voice of social democracy – humane, moderate, inclusive – should surely be heard again. People can be inspired with a vision that does not place the naked individualism of “grab all you can” above all else but sees the fulfilment of every individual’s potential as not only valuable in itself but as an essential element in building a stronger, happier and more successful society in which everyone can prosper.

    So, let us celebrate the election of a leader who promises to do exactly that. There could be rich dividends to be reaped in the face of a coalition government of disparate parts and an uncertain policy stance adopted by default rather than conviction. There is nothing to fear and everything to gain from speaking clearly and confidently – from the heart as well as the mind – to voters from right across the spectrum. New Labour is dead. Long live Labour renewed!

    Bryan Gould

    26 September 2010

  • The Labour Leadership

    After thirteen years in government, it is not perhaps surprising that Labour’s response to election defeat has been somewhat uncertain. Almost all of those who now seek to lead the party have spent most of their political lives persuading both themselves and the electorate of the great virtues of New Labour. Their forward political horizons were bounded, until a few months ago, by New Labour. Now, with the voters’ rejection of New Labour, their lodestar has been shot out of the sky.

    It is true that the candidates have, to varying degrees, recognised that change is now the order of the day. They have understood that a line must be drawn beneath election defeat. As professional politicians, they have quickly learned to speak the language of new beginnings. But the suspicion must be that the need for change is something they know, but do not yet understand.

    So, while each of the candidates is clear that a readiness to embrace change is required to win the leadership and, more importantly, lead Labour back to power, there is a marked lack of any precision about what that change might comprise. There is confusion not only about where change might take the party, but even about what it is in the party’s present and immediate past that needs changing.

    Some say that a change of direction is needed; others that going further in the same direction will bring success. Some urge a return to basics; others argue that the party must recognise and adapt to the new political imperatives created by a right-wing coalition government. Those at the back cry “forward” and those at the front say “go back”.

    Underpinning this confusion is a great mystery. We have lived through the most serious economic crisis of most lifetimes, a crisis brought about by the individual greed and irresponsibility of those exploiting an unregulated market for their own ends, a crisis averted only by government which alone had the will, legitimacy and resource to undertake the task – and the election result seems to mean that the correct response is to diminish the role of government so that it is smaller and weaker and less able or willing to restrain the greedy and selfish.

    Here, surely, is the change that is needed for Labour. Instead of New Labour’s acceptance of the supposedly inevitable triumph of the “free” market, why not say in terms that the whole point of democracy is to use the political power of the people, as exercised by their government, to offset and restrain the overwhelming economic power that an unregulated market otherwise delivers to a tiny and selfish minority? If market outcomes cannot be challenged, what is the point of democracy?

    Why not say that a strong and successful society depends on a real sense of community – not the meaningless slogan of “we’re all in this together” which is manifestly contradicted by the purpose and impact of government policy – but a genuine community of interest in which the gap between rich and poor is reduced, the old and the sick and the poor – not forgetting those who might become so some day – are supported, everyone gets a fair share of the benefits of economic and social cooperation, and the potential of every individual skill and talent is realised for the common good?

    Why not say that, despite the bad press that government has received – something largely engineered by media barons and exacerbated by the self-inflicted wounds of the expenses scandal – it is government that, by setting the ground rules to take account of the interests of everyone and not just a minority, remains the best hope for building a society in which everyone feels they will get a fair deal.

    The loss of faith in government over recent years, even by those who have most to gain from effective government and most to lose from its enfeeblement, is one of the most serious indictments of New Labour. Nothing better serves the interests of the selfish and privileged than the acceptance that government is just another part of a power structure that ordinary people have no ability to change.

    The conviction that progress is possible, that a better society can be built by giving people more control over their own lives, and that the task is best undertaken by harnessing the power and legitimacy of democratic government, is central to Labour politics.

    Votes in the Labour leadership contest should be given to the candidate (Ed Miliband?) who most convincingly and clearly re-states the case for government and spells out the intention to use the power of government to build a fair, strong and united country. This is not “going back to basics” or re-inventing “old” Labour. It is the re-affirmation of a bedrock of vision and principle from which to face the sharp and changing challenges of the modern world.

    Bryan Gould

    12 September 2010

  • Have Faith in Our Rival Narrative

    Peter Wilby (the Guardian, 5 September) argues that the manifest failure of neo-liberalism to fulfil its promises to voters now provides the Labour Party with an opportunity and a duty to move on from New Labour’s preoccupation with the centre ground and to assert an alternative and more radical agenda.

    He is right of course, but his argument can be taken further. I argue that the whole New Labour experiment was based on an unnecessary defeatism in the face of what seemed to be the established neo-liberal hegemony, and that the consequence was a flawed analysis of what was needed to resist and defeat it.

    The acceptance that British voters had endorsed an all-embracing right-wing agenda led the Labour party to conclude that it would have to accommodate this apparently permanent change by making a wholesale shift of its own political agenda along the spectrum to the right.

    Accordingly, much of the neo-liberal agenda was adopted by New Labour, sometimes with considerable enthusiasm. The remnants of any vaguely radical policies were quickly jettisoned and new ones eschewed. When the 1997 election was won, the strategy was seen to be vindicated; little account was taken of the fact that victory had been virtually certain in any case because the electorate – fed up after 18 years of the Tories – was determined on change.

    The lurch rightwards reflected a common failing on the part of political activists – the assumption that everyone else also holds political views that are internally consistent and together constitute a coherent political stance. But most people are not so considered about politics; they hold views that are often inconsistent and contradictory. They are perfectly capable of nodding assent at any given moment to propositions from every part of the political spectrum.

    For many, what determines how they vote is which issues are at the top of their minds as they enter the polling booth. It is here that the right have traditionally gained an advantage; they have been adept at using their superior access to the media to “tweak” those concerns, about, for example, “social security scroungers” or immigrants or increased taxes, that suit their purposes.

    New Labour failed to grasp that this simple point meant that moving their whole stance rightwards was both unnecessary and unhelpful. It confused many voters as to what it was they were asked to support. It failed to convince others who found the Tories more credible exponents of the neo-liberal agenda. And it disappointed many others who looked in vain for a mainstream party that would represent the values and principles that Labour seemed to have abandoned.

    Most importantly, the move rightwards confirmed that most dangerous and insidious of Thatcherite platitudes – that there is no alternative – and left their natural supporters nowhere to go. Little wonder that the disappointment with nine years of New Labour left many voters disaffected in respect of democratic politics as a whole.

    The outcome of the contest for power depends less on what part of the political spectrum each party occupies as on how well they address the particular issues with the greatest salience. The contest is therefore one of competing narratives; as the political agenda unfolds and throws up its usual bewildering array of issues, what matters is how well rival politicians can describe, explain and resolve them in terms of the values and attitudes that they are known or assumed to espouse.

    New Labour possessed no such competing narrative. Because they had assumed that voters no longer retained traditional Labour values, no attempt was made to call them up – submerged as they might be – from the deep.

    They therefore failed to link policies to deal with important issues with the values they were known to represent. They found themselves, for example, disabled from responding effectively to issues like widening inequality because they had lost the capacity to explain its significance in terms of most people’s continuing desire for fairness and for ensuring that both benefits and burdens are fairly shared.

    They failed to engage with high rates of unemployment, or the downward pressure on wages, or the cuts in public services, by making the simple point that to cut purchasing power and government spending not only meant that the most vulnerable were asked to bear the greatest burden but also made no economic sense. This left the rival narrative from the right – that inequality is the price that must be paid for building an efficient economy – unchallenged. Yet what is economically efficient about keeping large numbers out of work or allowing wealth to concentrate in just a few hands?

    When Tony Blair forfeited the trust of the people, New Labour accordingly had nothing left to offer. The failure of neo-liberalism has offered Labour a new chance. What they must now do is to stop looking for advantage by moving backwards and forwards along the political spectrum. They must renounce the constant triangulation and spin-doctoring, and develop those narratives that explain the country’s problems and their solution in terms of the values – fairness, compassion, tolerance, shared responsibility – that have long been held, have never been abandoned and that will again strike a chord in the minds and hearts of the people.

    Bryan Gould

    9 September 2010

  • Why Not for the Unemployed?

    Two South Island crises in the last couple of weeks have seen the government step up to the plate. The failure of South Canterbury Finance and the Canterbury earthquake were very different disasters but both required government – acting on behalf of all of us – to make good losses suffered initially by a minority but threatening to impact on the whole community.

    Despite their differences, the two crises shared common features. The initial bill in both cases will reach into the billions. The losses occurred through no direct fault of those who will bear the main brunt. The government quickly calculated that the cost of doing nothing would greatly outweigh the cost of doing what seemed necessary.

    It is of course the case that there will be many victims of earlier finance company failures who will ask why they were left without help while investors in South Canterbury Finance had their chestnuts pulled out of the fire. But the government correctly calculated that the economic black hole – if left unfilled –would do terrible damage to the South Island economy. And in any case, the expectation is that much of the government’s initial outlay will be recovered through an orderly winding up of SCF’s affairs.

    No such backward glances are warranted in the case of the Canterbury earthquake. Immediate emergency help and a prompt beginning on the task of reconstruction are clearly needed, and only the public purse is deep enough to get this underway. And, encouragingly, the longer-term consequences of a recovery programme might actually be beneficial in economic terms.

    No one should discount the immediate personal and social price that the earthquake has exacted. But the injection of significant new capital into the regional economy could prove to be a shot in the arm to Canterbury – and beyond. We need only think of the new jobs in construction, the boost to manufacturers of materials, the lift in services from transport to accountancy, to understand how this might work.

    In both cases, too, it is significant that – at a time when the current emphasis seems to be on smaller government – it is again to government, as at the time of the global financial crisis, that we turn for the kind of help that no other agency can deliver. It seems that no matter how often we learn this lesson – whether in wartime, or in economic crisis, or following a natural disaster – we are quick to forget it as soon as what passes for normality is restored.

    A case in point is our recent treatment of unemployment. The disaster that overtook tens of thousands of Kiwis in the aftermath of both the global and our own domestic recessions, when they lost their jobs or businesses, may not have had the dramatic impact of a single terrible event like the earthquake or even the SCF failure, but the consequences for individuals and families are equally destructive.

    And the parallels with the two South Island crises are clear. The victims of unemployment are equally innocent of responsibility for the calamity that has struck them. They did not cause the recession. The numbers involved are just as large. The economic consequences are equally serious, not just for those directly affected, but also for the rest of us.

    The loss of the productive capacity of tens of thousands of our fellow citizens makes us all poorer. The personal and social consequences for individuals and families make our society weaker and less cohesive. The longer-term impact – such as the renewed exodus across the Tasman – blights our prospects as a nation.

    Just as in recent days, action and investment by government would be a proper response to this disaster. A dollar invested by government now, just as in Canterbury, could be repaid not just immediately through the relief of distress but also in the longer term through more jobs and a stronger economy. If we can do it for earthquake victims, why not for the unemployed?

    Yet, in our response to unemployment, there has been no sense of the community pulling together to provide help to those who need it, no recognition that we will all benefit both economically and socially if we invest in the productive potential of all our citizens.

    Instead, we have turned and pointed an accusing finger at the unemployed. Not only can we not afford to help them with a crisis for which they are not to blame, we tell ourselves; they should bear not only their costs but ours as well. So we cut the minimal benefits on which they are forced to live, and salve our consciences by seizing on the occasional well-publicised anecdote about welfare cheats and scroungers.

    And instead of investing (as in Canterbury) in economic reconstruction, we give priority instead to getting a government deficit that is already one of the lowest in the developed world down a year earlier than it would otherwise be.

    Shouldn’t we step back and have a good look at ourselves?

    Bryan Gould

    7 September 2010

    This article was published in the NZ Herald on 8 September.

  • Labour-Saving Devices