17 June 2013
Does it make sense to think about poverty as weakness?
For a lefty like me, for whom reading about the staggering poverty and exploitation of the Victorian era did a lot to form and shape my politics, the suggestion can seem like an insult or a slap in the face.
But, then again, we live in a different world now: with a welfare state, universal health, education and other services (though of course some of these like legal aid are being slashed back by the present government).
Talking about poverty as weakness injects a personal element into the issue that sensitive souls and the poverty industry might recoil against, but I think it can also help us to conceive of poverty in a better way and address it more effectively.
The idea of poverty as weakness is derived from a controversial source. Over the past week or so I have been reading a fair amount of the iconoclastic German philosopher-poet Friedrich Nietzsche’s writings, initially for the weekly philosophy group that I attend.
Delving into Nietzsche can be a thrilling activity, for there are few writers who are better at puncturing the pretensions of the self-righteous and over-mighty than he. He also doesn’t mess around with his criticisms, offering gratuitous offence to just about everyone and anyone: Germans, Christians, Englishmen, women, pretty much all philosophers from Plato onwards; all faced the force of his sometimes-ferocious and sometimes-mischievous scorn.
He had an unremitting focus on the ‘human, all too human’ that we hide and reduce through our moralities and rationalising, taunting readers for their relation to apes, plants and worms. He also had a largely novel way of looking at life: not so much as a battle between good and evil, but as between ‘master’ and ‘slave’ moralities and values of strength/health and weakness/sickness.
This sort of language shocks and deters the new reader in particular, not least because of the partial appropriation of his terminology by Hitler and the Nazis after his death. But it also fascinates with its brilliance and individuality, and now Nietzsche is largely recognised as a particularly modern thinker. He is cynical, sarcastic and cutting and doesn’t have time for the great systems of thought put together by the august professors of reason, morality and science. He is also a great writer: perhaps the greatest writer of philosophy ever.
Applying Nietzsche’s views to the issue of poverty and its relation to morality can be discomfiting, especially for us on the Left.
As Walter Kaufman put it, for Nietzsche, “the value of a morality depends on its relation to health, or life, or ultimately power”.
I think many of us need to question whether our moral concern for poverty does in fact value health, life and power or rather values the poverty itself. In giving priority to poverty, do we step over a line where our moral concern becomes more important to us than the issue itself? I think many of us do precisely that.
That is a classic Nietzschean perspective. He might say: ‘You hold your politics more to make yourself look good among your peers and to feel superior than to achieve any real change. Your ideals are fake and self-justifying.’
Applying this perspective more widely to the Left brings up other problems.
Let’s think about terms like ‘social justice’ and ‘a fair society’ for example. These terms have little meaning in and of themselves – something you can gauge from the absence of anyone using their opposites: very few people would seriously say they wished for ‘social injustice’ and ‘an unfair society’.
These are not values as we sometimes like to claim. They are more like platitudes.
But Nietzsche would not say they have no meaning; far from it: just that their importance rests more with the person using them rather than whatever he or she is claiming to talk about. A fair society may be a meaningless platitude in itself (unless we are prepared to create a population of fair people to occupy it), but it serves a purpose in binding people together, providing a language of good and bad: labels with which to distinguish friend from foe.
Nietzsche’s perspective also sheds not-altogether-favourable light on what I called earlier “the poverty industry”. This term can sound particularly vindictive and unfair, but there is more than a germ of truth in it.
This is a place in which those of us on the Left are generally reluctant to tread, so casting our eyes to the Right can provide perspectives we would not normally provide ourselves.
One such perspective is provided in a paper written by Kristian Niemietz for the fiercely free market ‘think tank’ the Institute for Economic Affairs (IEA). In a review of this paper, Rob Lyons writes, “the discussion of poverty all but stopped [in the 1950s], only to re-emerge in the 1960s in a different form - not as a measure of the physical difficulty in surviving but as ‘impeded social participation’.
He adds: "‘absolute’ poverty was replaced by ‘relative’ poverty - usually defined as having a level of income below some percentage of an average income. Today, for example, the usual measure of relative poverty is something like ‘the number of people earning less than 60% of the equivalised median income’. On this kind of measure, according to Oxfam Great Britain, ‘nearly 13 million people live in poverty in the UK’ – that’s one in five of the population, including 3.8million children, 2.2million pensioners and 7.2million working-age adults.”
This 60% figure is the standard measure of poverty nowadays, used widely for example in this story from Guardian reporting on how benefits and tax credit changes will push an extra 200,000 children into poverty. Yet, as we can see from the methodology, this measure is actually measuring inequality.
Inequality is an issue deserving plenty of attention for its own sake, but it is a fundamentally different thing to real poverty defined along the lines of not being able to put food on the table. There is a dishonesty being practised here - using the natural moral concern of people about poverty to bring support while quietly redefining the word to mean something different.
There is a danger with institutions set up for specific purposes that over time they come to depend on the problems they are focused on. This includes the Child Poverty Action Group (CPAG), for which the redefining of poverty as inequality has the effect of increasing its own importance. The strap line on CPAG’s website says: ‘Help us end child poverty in the UK’. But the measure CPAG uses makes it almost impossible to do this, thereby providing the institution and wider industry with ample long-term justification for its existence.
This, again, is a classically Nietzschean argument in which we see rationalisations and justifications as serving power rather than power used to serve rationality (and be in no doubt that the likes of CPAG have significant social and political power – especially on the Left).
There is a deeper issue here though with poverty as a value – as something to be given attention and supported – rather than as about people being given attention and supported, as people. On CPAG’s lines, we could end child poverty by simple redistribution – by doling out many more billions in cash. Again, this is addressing inequality more than poverty.
It would seem to me that a more interesting definition of poverty would have at its forefront weakness in society – a poverty of life skills and knowledge (like cooking, knowledge of food and what nature provides for free, and how our world of institutions works). This then automatically feeds into action, which is less focused on money handouts and more on furnishing people with the skills needed for them to make better lives and avoid real poverty. Mixing up our Nietzsche and our socialism, we might put it a different way: that we should seek to increase the power of people rather than subsidise their powerlessness.
Given the vituperation and cynicism for which he is notorious, some of Nietzsche’s sayings shock in the other direction, for example when he talks of his great love for mankind. On welfare and poverty, we might draw towards a conclusion with a short excerpt from The Gay Science: “All great problems demand great love”.
We should be in no doubt that ‘great love’ will never come from an impersonal state doling out money to people. It can only come from other people who are personally involved and care: from family, friends and local communities which share space and time together. The challenge for government, for the Left and for Labour’s One Nation vision in the United Kingdom, is to convert those ideas into policies and practice – the irony of course being that government must lead, even if it cannot and should not seek to complete the task.
7 June 2013
This article was first published by Labour Uncut on 6th June 2013
Electoral Reform Services will have received my ballot paper by now.
Electoral Reform Services will have received my ballot paper by now.
I had thought of writing rude messages on it, or tearing it into small pieces and dropping them into the envelope as a mark of my disdain, but on the balance I plumped for a classic piece of English fudge/moderation: a big X scrawled across the page and a little message offering my unsolicited opinion on the Labour Party’s approach to democracy.
This is the first time I have ever treated a ballot paper in such a way. I used to approach them with a form of reverence, taking voting as a privilege and a pleasure.
Then I joined the Labour Party.
These latest selections for European Parliament candidates are just the latest example of an approach to democracy within Labour that Erich Honecker would have recognised and admired (and which I like to call ‘Institutionalised Fixing').
Let’s put aside the ceaseless cascade of emails that have been filling members’ inboxes with blandities, platitudes and waffle (though any more talk of “campaigning”, “a fairer Europe” or “Labour values” and I might run for the hills).
Instead, let’s talk about choice.
As a Londoner, I am faced with no choice in whether I wish to re-select Mary Honeyball and Claude Moraes, despite them having a track record for which they can be held accountable. They will automatically come top of the ballot.
Then I am given a clutch of six other candidates whose views seem to be almost interchangeable (unless you can see beyond the double-speak which hides their more interesting and contentious views). The most high-profile of the six is Lucy Anderson, who has got backing from Ken Livingstone and Owen Jones among others. She says: “We need a co-ordinated Labour effort to challenge Euro-scepticism and austerity.” Most other candidates make similar statements, focusing on promoting ‘Europe’ (not the EU) and fighting austerity.
These candidates all seem to be ardently (or unquestioningly) pro-EU, with hardly a shred of scepticism between them.
Where is the diversity here? (And I don’t mean the skin-deep version, which is well-provided-for: I mean real choice in politics). Where are Labour’s Euro-sceptics? We know they are out there, but are they not allowed near European elections? Would it not be good to give the electorate a bit of choice?
So how did the successful candidates get on to the paper?
Regular readers of Labour Uncut will know part of the answer to this question: it was a fix.
Perhaps the most startling example of this was the exclusion of Anne Fairweather, who attracted the most votes from London Labour members last time they had the chance to select new MEP candidates. As was written here on 15th April, “Her crime seems to have been to work in business and not be one of the chosen candidates of the unions and the left.” She was not even given an interview.
Diversity? What diversity?
The source of Fairweather’s exclusion was a seven-strong selection panel from which five “are either serving officials in the unions or have been backed by Labour Briefing – a hard left publication committed to establishing the most left-wing policy platform for the party since 1983”.
The only successful London candidate not to profess a union background is the rather interesting Andrea Biondi, a professor of European law (though his agenda is much the same as the others).
But there is much more to be concerned about with this process. As Jon Worth has written, “You had to be an insider to even know this European Parliament selection process was even happening”.
Worth has also detailed on his blog how we have had a selection panel in East Midlands Region selecting one of its own panel members as a candidate: Nicki Brooks, apparently as part of a need to secure gender balance because they didn’t have enough female applicants (something which itself raises serious questions of process).
Achieving gender balance is also the justification for the process of ‘zipping’ which is practised in these European selections as a form of legitimised fixing. Zipping is not quite up there with stuffing ballot boxes but does offer another two fingers to members by pre-empting their votes to ensure equal ‘representation’ of women and men. So it doesn’t matter if your three male candidates are rubbish and female ones good or vice versa: you will get what you are given.
Since fixing is woven into our rule book through a whole miasma of bureaucratic preferences and favouritisms like this, can it really come as a surprise that those in positions of power practise it themselves?
As Unite’s leader Len McCluskey has said, the practice of centralised capture and control is not new, and not restricted to the big unions: Tony Blair and New Labour practised it ruthlessly to exercise control over the party.
Peter Watt, the Blairite former general secretary, has explained it openly on Labour Uncut: “There was an understanding that controlling process meant controlling the party. Conferences, policy making and of course selections were all ruthlessly managed.”
Watt has changed his mind on fixing. But as McCluskey has it, the unions are just getting their own back with the European selections.
“Because we're having some success, suddenly these people are crying foul. Well I’m delighted to read it. I’m delighted when Tony Blair and everyone else intervenes because it demonstrates that we are having an impact and an influence and we’ll continue to do so.”
I think a lot of the people with real power in and around the party need to do some reflecting on what these practices say about Labour’s real ‘values’: let alone, God forbid, ‘One Nation Labour’. For values to mean anything, they need to be practised, especially in situations where they are not altogether convenient to self- and group-interest.
Since I joined Labour in 2010, I’ve seen precious little sign of this.