What Happened To 'Class A' Political Journalism?

My appetite whetted by this week's local electoral melodrama, I've been searching for some Class A political journalism to feed my lust for pragmatism. 

There were little flashes of it from a few of the TV people. Michael Crick, who blew the lid off the Andrew Mitchell stitch-up, was rude as hell to Farrago, no doubt furious at having stuck to him like a leech in the hope of discovering anything coherent and coming up empty-handed. That left the usually mild-mannered Gary Gibbon to go after the rest of the gang. Desperation set in after the AutomEtonian responded to every single question with the line that this week was simply about local councils. He genuinely seemed to forget he was the Prime Minister, and I guess it's easy to see why. This seemed to put Gary in such a foul mood that he went after Flash Nick and Millibore like a mortar crew on speed. Each prevarication was interrupted with a fresh round down the tube, and another explosion of disbelief at the factually-twisted response. 

The only problem with the Gibbon assault was the apparent premise of the questions on capital spending: that it's the job of the state to fill every hole in the infrastructural landscape. Creating a whole new mountain range out of UK public debt is strange medicine indeed, whatever the cause. Ironically, Flash Nick went closest to a straight response, saying that while they'd barely invested a bean of new public money, the coalition has done a great job of attracting private capital to public projects. If that's true, then let's hope they've overcome the planning fallacy, and the PFI vultures leave a little flesh on the state carcass for the rest of us. 

As for Ed, well... 

In the end, the howling in my soul could only be quieted by re-reading "Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail '72". Forty years on, nothing has changed. The vicious wheels of the party political machines are still flattening the best interests of the citizens into the road in the rush for power and patronage, and Thompson's substance-fuelled take on the political animal is so brutally right that the recognition will make you laugh like a hyena. This, for example, could have been written today:

"This also reinforced my contempt for the waterheads who ran Big Ed's campaign like a gang of junkies trying to send a rocket to the moon to check out rumours that the craters were full of smack."

Now why doesn't anyone write about politics like that anymore?

Is it merely because today's journalists are sober, or have they abandoned hope that we can produce anything different to the current stage-managed pantomime?

LSE Gets It: More Pragmatism, Less Politics

Having recently made the same point, I'm encouraged to see the London School of Economics setting out in detail some of the ways in which the UK could benefit if pragmatic political consensus were to replace party-political dogma. 

However, it would be wrong to think that this approach is only needed in the areas of education, infrastructure and innovation, on which the LSE's report focuses in particular. It's a general shift in attitude that is required in every aspect of our lives. 

This doesn't simply mean that politicians and civil servants should adopt a different top-down attitude. It means inverting the institutional narrative altogether. Politicians and the public sector must adopt a pragmatic, bottom-up view of what works and what does not work at the individual level, for the common good. The public sector must monitor and disclose publicly whether - and, if so, how - its activities, regulations and incentives distort all kinds of local and national markets in favour of private and public sector institutions, thereby constraining innovation and competition. Critically, this extends to the wasteful way in which the public sector purchases its own goods and services.

In practical terms, that shift in attitude requires the civil service and politicians to focus on obtaining data, defining problems, measuring their scale, analysing root causes and implementing lasting solutions. After all, hard choices are easier for more people to accept when they can be shown to be driven by harsh reality rather than party political dogma.

While, fortunately, there's plenty of evidence to suggest that this change is already underway as part of longer term trends discussed on this blog, the voices of institutions like the LSE are critical to those trends becoming mainstream behaviour sooner.  Let's hope similar reports follow from others shortly.

Pragmatism Grows At Night

In "India Grows at Night" the writer and commentator Gurcharan Das shares his insights into how India's growing, pragmatic middle class can achieve the country's necessary political and economic reforms. While inspired by Das's presence in Tahrir Square two years ago, these insights also resonate with the plight of Western democracies whose growth is inhibited by extractive private and public sector institutions.

The title of the book comes from Das's belief that India's knowledge economy powered her economic growth because: 

"Bureaucrats did not know how to regulate it and could not choke it with red tape, in the way they stifled India's industrial revolution through licences, permits and inspectors... India's knowledge economy literally grew at night while the government slept."

But India's problems are not over. Das explains that the "puzzle is... how can a vibrant democracy with a rising economy and an energetic civil society have allowed the state and governance to decay"?  He then describes the evolution of the Indian state from before British rule until today, tracing the tensions between social and official structures, and the shortcomings of the political system and key market failures.

Despite different starting points, this 'decay' also awaits Western democracies who have not been alert to the need for ongoing political and economic reforms. There's an ominous familiarity, for instance, in the complaint that the Indian state is preoccupied with the quantity of schools and other public services rather than their quality - "which is what really drives shared prosperity." The problems in our financial system are well rehearsed.

Das's description of the reasons for India's institutional decay is also echoed in Phillip Blond's explanation of the 'political bankruptcy' in Western countries. I understand them both to be saying that right wing policies allow the concentration of wealth amongst relatively few extractive institutions and their management and investors, rather than creating an environment in which widespread entrepreneurship can flourish. Meanwhile, left wing policies that are designed to 'redistribute' income through taxation and public spending are grossly inefficient by comparison to markets. The self-interest of partisan politics has gone too far, and legislators have no real commitment to the common good. Electoral battles fought along social and cultural lines distract everyone from critical long term issues, as well as being dangerously divisive. As a result, we lack appropriate regulatory frameworks and incentives to address market problems that stifle innovation and competition. Not only does institutional decay reflect the bankruptcy of dogma-ridden political parties, but as that decay constrains growth the economy itself drifts into liquidation.

Das argues that successful reforms will only be achieved through more active political participation by the members of the rising middle class, since they are the most conscious of the problems and the most impatient for the necessary reforms. He argues that the intransigence of existing Indian political parties creates the need for an entirely new, 'bottom-up', liberal political party. Das explains that this is a 'classical' rather than a 'social' liberalism - tolerant on social and cultural matters, yet wary of state intervention where the private sector and the market can be more effective.

This also seems to reflect the "renewed political idealism" and "participative democracy" for which Phillip Blond argues. 

In UK terms, this would seems to place Das's vision for a 'liberal party' somewhere between the Tories and the Liberal Democrats. And it seems quite telling that UK voters have forced those two political parties into coalition.

However, I disagree that the formation of a new political party or even a new political idealism is a necessary pre-condition for achieving political and economic reform.

As discussed in Lipstick On a Pig, the bottom-up approach that Das refers to has already been unleashed, largely enabled by the Internet's 'architecture of participation'. The 'Arab Spring' and developments in sub-Saharan Africa emphasise both the global nature of this phenomenon and its effective political impact. This process of 'democratisation' requires no more structure than the social media and a city square, and its power lies in the fact that it isn't confined to politics or economics. Greater transparency, knowledge and reform in one area creates the desire for change elsewhere. The result is both seismic and chaotic, yet significant reform is bound to be 'messy', not orderly and neat. As a result, I've suggested we're seeing the evolution of a "personal state" in which we're acting pragmatically as individuals in a highly collaborative fashion through the services of facilitators, rather than passively relying on our institutions to set the pace of reform.

New political parties and ideals might well emerge in this environment, but they will be a symptom of reforms achieved by each of us acting personally, not the cause.   

The Personal State

This decade is not going well for Britain’s institutions. The 2010 election did not magically restore our faith in a scandal-ridden Parliament. Bail-outs failed to improve the conduct of UK banks. Our public sector finances are in an appalling state. And as more sunlight has revealed the self-serving conduct of our mountainous bureaucracies, the gradual melting of our trust in them has become an avalanche. We want to know how rotten our institutions really are. More importantly, however, we want new models that work. 

As explained in “Lipstick On a Pig”, this plunge in faith in our institutions coincides with trends that are democratising the means of producing goods and services. Using digital technology we are personalising the one-size-fits-all experience traditionally offered by the likes of record labels, publishers, retailers, banks and political parties, and manufacturing our own physical products using desktop industrial machines. Rather than merely accepting what is ordained from the top down, both individually and as members of the ‘crowd’ we are shaping products, markets and political policies to solve the problems we encounter in our day-to-day activities. 

This process of ‘democratisation’ is being facilitated by organisations that are intently focused on helping us solve those problems. I call these organisations ‘facilitators’ to distinguish them from ‘institutions’, which exist to solve their own problems at our expense. The characteristics that I believe mark an organisation as being either a facilitator or an institution fall within broader themes of alignment, openness, flexibility, transparency and responsibility. In other words, a 'facilitator' solves its customers’ problems openly, flexibly and transparently, and takes responsibility for the impact of its activities on the wider community and society. 

Why are these features so critical? You might argue, for example, that focusing on ‘creating shareholder value’ or maximising management and staff compensation have proved to be more successful for some organisations than focusing on customers. As Anthony Hilton, Financial Editor of the Evening Standard, once said, “The City has done very well over the past 50 years dreaming up any old product and shoving it down peoples' throats.” 

But if that’s such a successful strategy, why are those City firms suddenly the subject of scandal after scandal and fine after fine for mis-selling and other misconduct? Why aren’t they able to recover quickly from their mistakes and move on? Why is Parliament labouring over new banking and financial services legislation? Why are people taking to the streets in protest? 

Because these firms are not 'facilitators'. 

In “Lipstick on a Pig” I explored the distinction between facilitators and institutions in the context of financial services, which then marked the latest consumer frontier. That sector also provides a great illustration of how organisations that produce complex products with hidden fees that their own staff can neither explain nor justify to customers become hooked on revenue and profits that disappear when the regulators finally wake up. How clubbing together with competitors leaves the whole club vulnerable to the same event or the consequences of the same mistake. How ignoring complaints and covering up problems leaves an organisation unable to understand the causes of issues it needs to fix. And how, when it finally emerges that the institution is not managed in the interests of the wider community, that community will no longer support it.

Since then, however, the frontier has expanded to confront the public sector and how society works – or doesn’t - as a whole. So I've been focused on the extent to which the public sector shares the same institutional characteristics that afflict our banks, and how facilitators are emerging in that wider context to help people solve their day-to-day problems that are being ignored. 

Whether an organisation is a facilitator or an institution is ultimately a matter of personal judgement for each of its customers. You might consider that a supplier is on the cusp of either category. Some will shift categories over time - although the drift from facilitator to institution appears to be easier than reform the other way. Some may never be reformed. Instead, they will gradually wither away while alternative models grow around them. 

Ultimately, however, the success or failure of our institutions and the facilitators that replace them is down to each of us. We are obsessed with ‘our rights’, but we must also realise that each of us bears responsibility for the wellbeing of everyone else. With our rights come duties and obligations that each of us must perform personally. The state cannot perform these obligations for us. The state can only act as a facilitator for our own endeavour. This is “the Personal State”. 

The Personal State is a simple concept. But it is of course a hugely complex dynamic, fraught with deeply-rooted life and death problems. For it to operate effectively, each of us must act pragmatically - in an informed way, rather than by adopting “uninformed, stupid practice”. That means no longer describing problems in terms of political dogma and propaganda. It means thinking critically and practically to identify and solve real problems. It means praising what works and explaining what doesn’t. It means spending, saving and investing our money in productive ways, and declining state benefits we don’t need. It means finding ways to improve the efficiency and productivity of the public sector to reduce public spending. Of course we must punish the gross mismanagement of our institutions and other violations of public trust. Yet we must also encourage entrepreneurs to engage in survivable trial and error, in order to promote innovation, competition and growth. In short, we must help each other wherever we can. 

Now a state like that would be worthy of some lipstick.

Image from Makeup Artist.