In Our Democracy, It’s Dollars Not Votes That Count
In what we are pleased to call a democracy, we count votes – one per citizen – on polling day, but on every other day we count only dollars; and when it comes to dollars, the more you have, the more political influence you wield.
Very few of us seem to realise how thoroughly the power of the purse has colonised and subordinated our supposed rights as citizens to an equal voice as to how we should be governed. Our government (and the present government especially), once elected, pays little further attention to ordinary citizens and makes its decisions according to what might serve the interests of the wealthy.
The rationale for this approach is presumably the long-discredited “trickle down” theory of economic wellbeing – that if the rich are encouraged to become richer, we will all be better off by virtue of the crumbs we might enjoy from the rich man’s table.
But the belief that wellbeing is to be measured purely in dollar terms takes us much further than that, and now penetrates almost every aspect of our national life. An obvious example is a trend that has begun to really gather pace over recent years – treating universities and other institutions of tertiary education, not as repositories of learning, mainsprings of new knowledge and the facilitators of a wiser and more far-seeing society, but simply as agents of economic development.
If an institution’s graduates cannot be shown to be immediately of value to the process of making a buck, it will be marked down and its future funding threatened. Little value is given to a more educated society for its own sake; the only purpose of education, it seems, is to promote a higher GDP.
Considerable effort is devoted to “educating” the public to accept that the only worthwhile goals are those with a dollar value. The search for profit, we are told, is the only motivation that will produce a higher level of effort and achievement. We see instances of this thinking wherever we look.
Selling off (or privatising) public assets? Who worries about levels of public service for society as a whole when better-off members of the public can be introduced to the joys of making some unearned income on the stock market?
The “free trade” deal with the US? Who cares about maintaining some element of control over our own destiny as a nation if some of us can trade that away for increased profits?
Instances of this kind abound, even at a very detailed level. I came across a further example the other day. This country welcomes immigration as a stimulus to growth, but we have also learned to value its benefits in helping to develop a society with a richer texture and a wider cultural base.
Commendably, our government set up a few years ago, under the aegis of Immigration New Zealand, a support service for immigrants to help them to settle and adapt to their new country. The service, known as Settlement Support, has done excellent work and has eased the path for countless new migrants so that they can enjoy greater success and can make a worthwhile contribution to our national life.
Until now, the service has provided face-to-face help to any migrant who cares to ask for it. The help largely takes the form of information on where to go for advice on a whole range of matters, and is of value both to the migrants themselves and to employers who might contemplate employing them. Customer satisfaction (at 91% for migrants and 83% for service providers and employers) is at a high level.
But someone has decided that the service is too “unfocused”. The inevitable consultant’s report has been commissioned and it has duly served the purpose of those who commissioned it.
It seems that too many migrants of low economic value are availing themselves of the service. What is needed, the consultants recommend, is a service that focuses on the 12% of “high priority” immigrants; the employers of such people are also to be priority customers. There will be a second category of medium-priority customers (20% of the total) who might one day become “high priority”. It is these categories who will receive a high level of support and attention.
At the bottom of the heap are the 58% of “low priority” customers. Under the new “Proactive Customer Management Model”, they will no longer have a face-to-face service. They will not be encouraged to seek help; they will have to make do with a web-based service.
These migrants, whose low economic value apparently makes them undeserving of real help, must overcome their unfamiliarity with the language, their lack of resources to allow them to access the internet, and their sense of confusion about the society in which they find themselves, to negotiate their own way through the maze of agencies and sources of help and advice that might be of use to them.
Immigrants of “low economic value” might be seen as of little consequence; but are they not just a sub-category of those ordinary home-grown citizens of whom our government makes the same judgment?
Bryan Gould
19 October 2013
Public Spending Matters
The National government has never hesitated to put cuts in public expenditure firmly in the front of its shop window. “Smaller government” is in many senses the defining objective of John Key’s administration.
In adopting this stance, our government has made common cause with right-wing politicians across the western world. From David Cameron’s Tories in the UK to Angela Merkel’s insistence on euro-zone austerity to Mitt Romney’s Republicans, all have sought recovery from recession and a brighter future by reducing the role of the state.
None has been deterred by the obvious difficulty, now more than ever confirmed by recent experience across the globe, that cutting government spending in a recession means a smaller economy and a longer and more arduous route to recovery – and that means as well a sterner struggle to reduce government deficits.
But an apparent absence of economic rationality is not the only reason for questioning the government’s sense of priorities over this issue. Ministers seem to assume that not only does cutting public expenditure help the economy, but also that it can be done without losing anything of value.
They largely escape criticism for this because most people have only a partial view of the value of public spending. They make a clear distinction between spending for essential purposes, which they define as those that suit their own interests, and all other spending which they deride as a waste of money. The difficulty is that, not surprisingly, everyone has a different view on which areas of spending fall into which category.
The further problem is that when government support is provided, it is so quickly seen as a natural part of the landscape that it is scarcely recognised as such. So, we are constantly told by those whose activities depend hugely on the help they get from government that the best thing government can do is to “get off our backs”.
Recent events, however, remind us yet again that – contrary to so much popular wisdom – most government spending goes to purposes that matter greatly, both to those who are directly helped and to our efficiency, health and integrity as a society.
Sometimes, for those who care to learn, the lesson is especially direct and painful. If government cuts back on inspecting mines, mine safety is jeopardised and miners can lose their lives. If bio-security border controls are not adequately maintained, destructive bacteriological pests from overseas, like PSA, can decimate a hugely valuable export industry.
If our public service is under-resourced and under-valued, mistakes are made. Standards that we should expect to be maintained are not met; we find, for example, that the privacy of those who reveal their most personal details to government agencies is betrayed or negligently misplaced by an Accident Compensation Commission or an Inland Revenue Department or a Ministry of Social Development.
And that is on top of the inexorable erosion of services that must now make do with reduced resources – from the defence forces and the police to schools, health care and community law services. Those who rely on those services, and that means most of us at some time or another, may not recognise what is happening until a crisis point – the collapse of a platform at Cave Creek, for example – is reached.
The damage done to our public service is not just financial; the impact on morale and professional competence means that we are trying to maintain a first-world performance with what threatens to be a third-world standard of public service. We can go on with this process of attrition, but do we understand how gravely we handicap ourselves as a modern economy if our public administration is significantly weaker than in comparable countries?
It is already the case that the government seems increasingly accident-prone. There is a sense that ministers are poorly directed from above and poorly served from below. The whole process of government seems to be unravelling.
This sense of drift has its origins at the top. We can gain an inkling of what lies behind this from a little-noticed remark made by the Prime Minister in a television interview earlier this year in which he said that “any tax sucks money out of the economy. There’s a limited amount of money in the economy. So when you put up a new tax, or you tax people more, then it sucks that money out.”
Let us put to one side the dubious assertion that “there’s a limited amount of money in the economy”; the really interesting part of Mr Key’s brief foray into economic theory is his apparent belief that money raised through taxation, and then spent on public purposes of various kinds, is somehow no longer part of, or of any value to, the economy.
If it is “sucked out” of the economy, where does he think it goes to – into the stratosphere? And are all of those elements that are critical to our living standards and that are paid for out of taxation, of no economic value? If that is his belief, then perhaps his emphasis on cutting public spending becomes easier to comprehend, if not to support.
Bryan Gould
17 October 2012
This article was published in the NZ Herald on 23 October.
Game On
In a properly functioning parliamentary democracy, voters can do much more than cast a vote from time to time. They should be able to hold their government to account and, if they decide they don’t like it, they can replace it with another – in effect, a government in waiting.
If the system works well, that government in waiting will have been identified in advance, and the voters will have had the chance to compare what it offers in prospect with what has been delivered by its predecessor.
It doesn’t always work like this, of course. In some systems, the voters find it difficult to get rid of the government, let alone identify a credible successor. In post-war Italy, for example, repeated elections were held but voters could never get rid of the Christian Democrats, not because they were so popular but because the opposition parties were so fragmented.
It was often said – with some justice – that this was a particular weakness of proportional representation systems. But it has been the particular genius of New Zealand voters that we have managed to secure through MMP the advantages of a more representative parliament without losing the essential choice between right-of-centre and left-of-centre governments.
There is a further advantage of a system which produces credible competing contenders for office. The effect of that competition is usually to compel the contenders to vie for the support of centre or uncommitted opinion. It is, in other words, a force for moderation in our politics.
That, at least, is how it should operate. But, in the US at present, we see the opposite – an instance of one of the two major parties being taken over by an extreme minority and abandoning the battle for moderate opinion; the Republicans under pressure from the Tea Party element seem prepared to jeopardise the US economy and international credibility in order to express their hostility to a health-care regime that has been endorsed by the voters and championed by President Obama but is reviled by extremists as “socialist”.
In New Zealand, however, we have no such concerns. Despite the occasional (and somewhat ridiculous) charge that the opposition to the present government has moved to the “far left”, we have succeeded in maintaining the battle for the centre as an essential element of that quintessential democratic power to vote one government out and move another one in.
Yet those aspects of our democracy cannot be taken for granted. If our system is to produce its full benefits, it depends on there being a credible alternative to the party in power. An effective democracy depends, in other words, almost as much on the opposition coming up to scratch as it does on the governing party.
With Labour and its potential allies languishing in the polls, there had been something of a phoney war about the political battle. The government could afford to take a fairly cavalier attitude towards other views and to public opinion in general. The Prime Minister and his government were able to convince themselves that the absence of a credible alternative meant that the next election was in the bag.
That is why, while supporters of the present government may take a little convincing, the emergence of a credible Labour-led opposition – and, by definition, a credible government in waiting – is something to be celebrated by all democrats.
Many commentators, whatever their political persuasion, have recognised the sea-change that has occurred over the last month or so. The revival in Labour’s fortunes means that the next election is no longer a foregone conclusion.
We now have a real choice. It is no longer enough for John Key to smile sweetly while coasting and ignoring public opinion. Politics is no longer exclusively about photo ops, phone-ins on talkback radio, and media management. We now have a real clash of ideas.
With Labour not only proving itself to be an effective opposition, but also offering an alternative agenda for the future of the country, there is now an opportunity for voters to think about real politics – and that is how it should be.
The result is likely to be better and more responsive government in the run-up to the election. Ministers will need to think harder about the rationale for their policies and about the interests of those who may be disadvantaged by them. They will have to get used to taking into account not just the views of their own committed supporters but of a wider spectrum of opinion as well.
The voters will have to work harder too. They will be challenged to go beyond the superficial and to make a proper evaluation of competing views as to where the country’s interests lie. Should the government’s belief that advancing business interests produces the best outcomes for the rest of us be supported, or should we pay more attention to the interests of ordinary people?
So, hold on to your hats. The next twelve months will be fascinating. The phoney war is over. It’s now game on.
Bryan Gould
6 October 2013
This article was published in the NZ Herald on 11 October.
Consulting the People
It cannot be said too often – democracy is about more than election day. Electing a government is only the beginning. What matters to a properly functioning democracy is whether the government, however decisive its election day mandate, continues to consult and reflect public opinion throughout its term and whether it exercises power in the interests of the whole country and not just a sectional interest. If it does not, we struggle with what Quintin Hogg once famously described as “an elective dictatorship.”
We have had in the last few days a significant reminder of this principle. When the British Prime Minister wished to make the case for a strike on Syria, he did at least have the good sense to seek a mandate from Parliament. When the House of Commons declined to vote for military action, reflecting its sense of betrayal over what is now seen as Tony Blair’s false prospectus for the Iraq invasion, David Cameron had no option but to abandon his plans.
This was a prime example of democracy in action – of the elected representatives of the people, mindful that they were accountable for their decisions to those who elected them, exercising their judgment in such a way as to represent the will of the people.
The embarrassment caused to David Cameron was enough to give President Obama pause as well – and, though he is not constitutionally obliged to do so (under a different system of government), he too has decided that it would be prudent to seek the support of Congress before authorising an act of war.
We need to look a little further afield for a significant instance of the difficulty caused when the forms of democracy are complied with but the substance is not. There has quite rightly been considerable anxiety in the West at the overthrow of President Morsi by the Egyptian army only a year after he had won what was by most accounts a reasonably fair election.
No democrat can justify a military coup, particularly in a country which has suffered an army-backed dictatorship for so long and where hopes for democracy were so high; but the sad fact is that President Morsi came unstuck because he and his Muslim Brotherhood supporters believed that the whole meaning of democracy had been expressed on election day and that beyond that nothing could restrain them from imposing their will without regard for anyone else.
The difficulty with this was that the Muslim Brotherhood’s will was to impose a religious state on the whole country. Not surprisingly, the large numbers who had voted in different directions and to whom a secular state was important were less than thrilled at this prospect. President Morsi may not, in other words, have been quite as democratic as he seemed.
These varied instances from across the globe of how democracy should and should not work may seem to have little directly to do with us. We, after all, (along with the Scandinavian countries) consistently top international surveys of countries with the most effective democracy.
We should not be so complacent. We now have several recent instances of our own government asserting that its mandate on election day means that it can now do what it pleases. John Key is keen to show that he is a “strong” leader who – having been elected with a (barely) working majority – is now not only entitled to do what he pleases, whatever the country thinks, but should be congratulated for doing so.
It is not enough that opinion polls show, for example, that asset sales have been opposed since day one by a large majority of New Zealanders and that an impressive number have now succeeded in demanding a referendum on the issue. John Key has immediately made it clear that he will not act on any decision by the people that they want the asset sale programme halted. We are presumably meant to applaud this obstinacy and overlook the fact that we have a government that pays no regard to us.
But there is an even more significant instance when the government is proceeding on an important issue without even bothering to let us into the secret of what it intends, let alone give us a voice in the outcome.
The innocuous-sounding Trans Pacific Partnership may not be quite a matter of life and death, comparable to a decision to go to war; but its long-term consequences for this country could be almost as serious. The deal currently being negotiated in secret and scheduled to be finalised very soon will represent a hugely significant further step in the absorption of this country and its economy into a global economy dominated by big players.
Overseas corporations will have, for example, greater legal rights against our government than does any New Zealand individual or company; and future New Zealand governments will not be able to change that position even if they are elected to do so.
By the time this secret deal is done, it will be too late for us to have any say. Does that sound like democracy to you?
Bryan Gould
4 September 2013
This article was published in the NZ Herald on 6 September.
The Labour Leadership
It may truly be said of David Shearer that nothing so much became him as the manner of his going. He is living proof that, in today’s politics, being a decent and thoughtful person is not enough.
Parliamentary politics and modern communications both place a huge premium on fluency and articulacy. Quite why those qualities should be equated in the public mind with the ability to run the country is not quite clear. Glibness is not always a sign of special ability.
Many commentators, including of course government politicians, will profess to see David Shearer’s departure as evidence of the hopelessness of Labour’s cause. The reality is, I believe, quite different; David Shearer’s decision shows clearly how tantalisingly close is the breakthrough that will push Labour through the winning tape – and here is why.
What will be painfully clear to National party strategists is that, even as things stand today, their chances of winning the next election rest on a knife edge. With poll ratings now under 50% and trending downwards, it is hard to see how they are going to find the votes to form a government in an MMP parliament.
Both Act and United Future seem destined for the knacker’s yard. The Maori party’s chances seem almost as slim. The Conservative party is virtually an unknown quantity, as its ability to win any seats. Where is John Key to find the parliamentary votes to give him a working majority?
New Zealand First, if they cleared the 5% threshold, might or might not be prepared to do a deal but Winston Peters might be equally tempted by the prospect of joining a new government and making a fresh start as Foreign Minister. His decision in that regard would of course be made much easier if a Labour-led coalition could show that, even without New Zealand First’s support, it commanded a greater share of the popular vote than the National grouping.
All of this takes place against a background where the government’s greatest advantage – the Prime Minister’s personal popularity – is a wasting asset. There are only so many times that one can go to that particular well before it runs dry. “Trust me” works well until the day that trust is exhausted – as Tony Blair discovered when the truth was finally known about the Iraq war.
The point to grasp is that all of these considerations and uncertainties present themselves for National without any further deterioration in the polls and at a time when the only alternative as Prime Minister was unable, by his own admission, to show that he was a credible option. Imagine how a new contender, able to demonstrate the necessary credibility, could transform what is already a difficult situation for National into one that is very favourable to Labour. Another few percentage points are all that is needed.
It is a measure of David Shearer as a man that he will have done precisely this calculation. He will have concluded that a new leader – and a leader recognised as a potential Prime Minister – would provide all that is now needed for a Labour election victory, and he has accordingly acted in the interests of the party and, as he sees it, of the country as well.
His personal sacrifice places a special responsibility on those who will now play a part in the Labour leadership election to make that sacrifice worthwhile. The party will congratulate itself on having changed the election process so as to give itself into the best chance of electing a leader who can take them to victory.
The great advantage of widening the franchise, so as to give party members and affiliates as well as MPs a vote, is that it creates an electorate that is able to stand back from narrow personal and partisan concerns and to put the interests of the party first.
I have participated (in the British Labour party) in a number of leadership election elections – usually as a voter and on one occasion as a contender. I have had experience of elections conducted both with the franchise restricted to MPs and also when the franchise has been widened.
The benefit of the wider franchise is that personalities matter less and (hopefully) ability matters more. Within the hothouse atmosphere of the caucus, every vote matters greatly and the temptation is to allow all sorts of personal considerations – ancient grudges, favours to be repaid, long-standing friendships – to sway voting intentions.
With a wider electorate, especially one that includes thousands of party members, individual votes matter less and a broad consensus about what is important to the party matters more. That is now the opportunity that presents itself.
The good news for Labour is that the likely contenders all seem to have what it takes. The forthcoming leadership contest is not only a welcome exercise in democratic participation; it is an essential step in offering New Zealand voters a real choice as to who should form the next government.
Bryan Gould
23 August 2013
This article was published in the NZ Herald on 26 August.