Politics, But Better E-Book

Tatton Spiller

• Herausgeber: Elliott & Thompson
• Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Seitenzahl: 249

Beschreibung

From the founder of Simple Politics comes a guide to rediscovering the heart of our democracy, reshaping our political system and making the UK a better place for all.Strikes across the country. A prime minister resigning after just forty-four days. Accusations of bullying in the House of Commons. Our politics and our democracy appear to be fundamentally broken.But that doesn't mean that all hope is lost. Things can get better. There are solutions out there to the complex web of failure in which we're currently entangled.Politics, But Better will look at the very fabric of our system and what improvements can be made. Exploring twenty-six issues in UK politics, from A to Z – including censorship, elections, insults and U-turns – it clearly lays out the problems and challenges we face, and puts forward possible solutions. Looking at a variety of ideas and real-world examples, it will encourage us to rethink the fundamental ways we do things, to question the status quo, and to chart a path towards a more hopeful future.Respect and understanding are at the heart of this book, promoting open debate, tolerance and compassion as the cornerstones of a reformed political landscape. Politics is about improving the world – and we can do better.

Leseprobe

For the whole family

Contents

Introduction

AAlert! Alert! Alert!Why the twenty-four-hour news cycle can be harmful

BBoys Like MeThe importance of equality, diversity and representation

CCensorshipThe problem of no-platforming

DDesire PathsWhy we need public consultations

EElectionsEnding negative and combative campaigning

FFake NewsNavigating false and misleading information

GGodThe role of religion in a multi-faith society

HHopeFinding realistic ambitions to keep optimism alive

IInterferenceGovernment involvement in private lives

JJustificationExplaining policy decisions to the public

KKnowledgeHow much do we want our representatives to know?

LLong-term ProblemsThe difficulty of future planning in short-term governments

MMental HealthA service in crisis

NNincompoopTackling the language of hate

OOceansHow to engage with the younger generations

PPolicingRe-establishing trust in a flawed institution

QQuick!Preventing the rush to engage with voters just before election time

RReferendumOvercoming the divisiveness of public votes

SStatus QuoWhy we need to question the fundamental way we do things

TTory ScumCalming political polarisation and aggression

UUndoneWhy we all deserve a second chance

VVisions of the FutureWhy we need concrete plans from all parties

WWhere’s WallyDo you know who your local representatives are?

XX FactorCelebrity-style political leadership

YYardstickHow do we measure a government’s record?

ZZero EmissionsWhen problems are too big for politics

Conclusion

Acknowledgements

About the author

Introduction

Dear lovely reader,

I love politics. I think politics is wonderful, honourable and decent. I think that trying to make the world a better place – to improve our lives and those of our fellow humans – is one of the best possible things that we can do with our time.

So much of what we love about our country exists because of politics and politicians. It was a politician who created the NHS. It was politicians who changed the law so that people of the same sex could get married. It was politicians who said we could have two extra hours of drinking time in pubs for the weekend of King Charles III’s coronation. All the big things.

It’s why I have dedicated my life to politics. It matters. It’s important. I’ve been banging this drum for quite some time. Trying to show the world how good this political adventure can be.

As a teacher, I tried to bring politics into everything I could – running mock elections, assemblies, all that kind of thing. I’ve made videos (they’re really very bad, but they do exist). I pop up on the radio and on TV. I had a kids’ show that I toured around the country. I worked on the education team at the Houses of Parliament. At university I ran politics societies.

I have spent years and years of my life trying to talk about politics in a way that is positive and full of hope.

In 2015, I created a project called Simple Politics. It was originally a website before it moved onto social media, and I’ve now spent the best part of a decade writing, posting and generally talking to hundreds of thousands of people every week.

On Simple Politics, sometimes I like to write letters – a lot like this one, in fact. I always sign off with ‘peace and love’. Those things matter. Today, they matter more than ever. In the world of politics, where the stakes couldn’t be any higher, where the future of the country hangs in the balance of every decision, where so many conflicting ideas are in play, what could possibly be more important than the starting point of peace and of love?

It’s not a message you see anywhere else when people talk about politics. In fact, when I tell people that I love politics, people look at me like I’ve told them I love olive M&Ms or waiting in A&E. People nod and move on in the hope that the conversation can return to whether or not the odd bit where Eleven finds the other people with powers ruins the whole of Stranger Things or just that season.

The problem is that they’re right. I’m wrong.

Politics in the UK isn’t the glorious bastion of hope that I wish it was. And that I, occasionally, pretend it is. We so often don’t take the opportunity to discuss and debate the problems we face in a measured way that might create the better world we dream of.

I speak to people about politics all the time, and what I hear most often is that they don’t feel things are working. I get it.

If you follow what’s going on closely – as I do – it’s easy to get caught in a spiral of despair. Opposition parties who’d rather just stomp their feet than offer alternatives. Strikes in every sector. The never-ending saga of Brexit. The cost of living crisis, or ‘cozzie livs’ as some people are calling it. The virtually impossible task of remembering who is prime minister this week.

If politics were a couple, it would be in dire need of relationship therapy, while at the same time on Bumble looking for some extra-curricular action. If it were a meal, not only would the food be burned, the whole house would be on fire. If it were a film, it would be a romcom starring any of the six lead actors from Friends.

Our politics is broken. Caput. On its knees.

Against that backdrop, people are angry. Extremism is increasing. People don’t seem able to talk to each other across the political divides. Even the smallest of issues seems to provoke a furious response – and it’s pushing people to desperate measures.

The most severe consequences of this current climate are the murders of two MPs, Jo Cox and Sir David Amess, and the stabbing of another, Stephen Timms. I’m not going to linger on these now (they’re discussed later in the book) because while these are awful, tragic and horrific crimes, which must never be forgotten, they are, thankfully, isolated incidents perpetrated by monstrous individuals.

The problems in our system are much more widespread and deeply rooted. A system that puts people off at every stage, that pushes people to more and more extreme positions.

I want to use two snapshots to show you what I mean.

Let’s start by taking a look inside the House of Commons chamber itself at midday on 13 July 2022.

Prime Minister’s Questions (PMQs) – the most watched event in the parliamentary week – was about to begin. Rather than settling down and getting on with proceedings, two MPs decided to make a scene. Kenny MacAskill and Neale Hanvey of the Scottish party Alba (although they were both elected as SNP candidates) stood up and started shouting at the prime minister, demanding a second independence referendum for Scotland.

It didn’t go down well. The Speaker of the House of Commons, Lindsay Hoyle, is usually a calm man. He repeatedly asked them to sit down. They didn’t. In the end, Hoyle snapped and shouted, ‘Shut up a minute . . . I will not tolerate such behaviour. If you want to go out, go out now, but if you stand up again, I will order you out. Make your mind up. Either shut up or get . . . Shut up a minute. Two at once!’

The two were thrown out of Parliament for the rest of the day.

How could such a scene inspire any confidence in our political process?

No form of government makes everyone happy. There will always be people who can’t get what they set out to achieve. That’s the reality of politics. What we can hope for is a system where people – especially MPs – are able to communicate in a meaningful way, rather than resort to this counterproductive playground behaviour. Change can happen, but it might not always be immediate. We need to work for it, make our case, persuade people to our point of view. That’s how democracy works.

Politics needs to be better than this.

Snapshot two takes us away from Parliament. It takes us onto the streets of Essex. It is 13 October 2021 at around 8.30 a.m. Members of Insulate Britain are blocking a road. They want the government to fund a massive programme of insulating houses, to cut the amount of energy being used to heat homes across the country. They say that it’s a reasonable and achievable step to take to tackle the climate emergency. They say that blocking roads is the only way they can get the government’s attention and the only way they can get their message across to the wider public.

On this particular day they are blocking a road near the M25. Behind the protest, in the front row of stationary cars is Sherrilyn Speid. She is taking her son to school, but can go no further because of the protest. She is not delighted with the situation. She gets out of the car and shouts at the protesters sitting on the road. She uses language that you probably wouldn’t use in front of your older relatives.

She tells them, ‘I don’t care what the issue is. My son is eleven, he needs to get to school today so move out the way and let me get my son to school.’ Nobody moves.

Having not managed to persuade the Insulate Britain activists off the road, she climbs back into her Range Rover and starts to drive her car into the backs of the people in front of her. She doesn’t go fast. It’s more of a bumping and jerking motion, but it was a deliberate attempt to drive into people she could clearly see were sitting on the road.

Later, she will be prosecuted for dangerous driving, she will plead guilty and receive a one-year ban from driving and she will have to pay £240. She will also tell LBC radio that she felt ‘let down’ by the ‘injustice’ of the whole thing.

The driving ban will be a serious issue for Speid. The defence lawyer will challenge it, saying she needs to drive in order to care for her mother, who has multiple sclerosis, to get to work and to drop off her son at school and football.

This is where we are today. Political discourse through the lens of a four-by-four bumper.

On one side, we have a group of people who feel so strongly about something that they’re prepared to do whatever it takes to get their message across. Their passion and their commitment is huge.

On the other side, there is someone else with passion and commitment, but she needs to be able to go about her everyday life unimpeded. She runs a counselling service for vulnerable young children, having grown up in care herself, and a podcast about being a working mother. In the trial, she was referred to as an ‘inspiring’ woman.

As with the MPs shouting in the Commons, there will always be people who disagree. People who can’t find common ground. There has to be a better way to disagree than bringing the roads to a total standstill. There has to be a better way to disagree than hitting someone with a car. With no trust that our politicians can solve our problems, people feel forced to these extremes.

And sometimes it’s no wonder people feel failed by the system, when they see how some of the people at the centre of it all behave. People who do have influence but choose to use their power for their own advantage.

We’re going to talk about gambling. Honestly, it’s not my thing, but plenty of people like it. Pitting their wits against The Man. Maybe, hopefully, coming out of the battle with a little more money than they went in with. It can be fun.

But gambling also ruins lives. It can be an addiction that’s all-consuming and miserable. There are many stories of people who have died by suicide after running up impossible debts.

Trying to find a way to balance these two things is really hard. Allowing people to continue to bet if they’d like to while protecting those for whom it’s problematic is a very fine line.

The government was in the process of setting up a committee to look into how to do this. It’s an important, sensitive and nuanced issue. So this is probably a good way for the government to do it, to take enough time to hear from all the experts, to get this right.

So far, so good. But . . . you knew there was a ‘but’ coming, didn’t you?

On 6 April 2023, The Times broke a story. They had set up a fake gambling company looking for MPs to help them influence the new policy. They had approached several MPs, but it was only the case of Scott Benton, MP for Blackpool South, that was reported.

There are rules in Parliament. You can’t take a big sum of money from someone and then ask a question on their behalf. In the old days (pre-2023), you could be involved in a debate if you declared your interest in it, but you couldn’t start the debate or ask the initial question. Now, you can’t be involved at all.

There is a threshold, however, of £300, below which you can accept it without declaring it. Which means you can still ask questions and take part in debates on behalf of companies who have given you that little gift.

On camera, Benton appeared to tell the undercover reporters that the way round the £300 figure is simply to say whatever they’ve been given actually only cost £295. For example, an FA Cup Final ticket (plus, presumably, drinks and nibbles) could be written down as £295, when it actually cost one heck of a lot more than that. Apparently that works well for the companies and for the MPs.

In the video it looks as if he is telling the fake gambling company that he can get ministers’ attention during votes in the House of Commons. It also really looks like he’s bang up for using his power to ask direct questions to the government. In short, it looks like he’s offering to try to change government policy – in favour of the gambling industry – in return for some lovely sandwiches at Ascot.

This is such a huge issue. So many people’s lives and jobs depend on it. How can we possibly have faith in a system that is supposed to protect us when there is such potential for rotten, dirty corruption? People putting themselves and their enjoyment of a bottle of Bollinger over the people they represent.

So. There you go. It’s things like this that make us feel like our system isn’t working. So, what can we do about it?

There is an old joke. An American tourist wanders into a pub looking for directions. The bartender thinks about it and says, ‘Well . . . I wouldn’t start from here.’

Honestly, lovely people? I wouldn’t start from here.

This is where we are, though, and so this is where we must start.

Over the next twenty-six chapters I’m going to give you some examples that show exactly how and why our system is broken. How it’s become dominated by conflict and antagonisation. How we’ve become polarised, not only into left and right, but also into one camp who are fully engaged and furious, and another who are withdrawn and uninterested. We need to find ways in which we can shrug off this state of affairs and start finding solutions to the problems we face. To keep conversation and debate meaningful when those solutions aren’t immediately obvious, or when they are divisive and difficult.

The topics I’ve chosen to discuss are an eclectic mix. These may not be the biggest problems in UK politics. Some of them definitely aren’t. But even those that you might consider to be more incidental still matter. Small changes are needed as much as the larger ones. Every step in the right direction is a good one.

For each one, we’ll look at the issues, the problems and challenges that surround them, and consider what we could do to address them. Sometimes it’s less a change in policy, more a change in attitude. Sometimes we need to stop trying to improve what we’ve got and consider a complete overhaul. Sometimes opposing views are too conflicting to ever be truly resolved, but the very least we can do is to really listen to the other side of the argument.

You might read some of these examples and completely disagree with everything I say. Perhaps you’ll disagree with all of them. That’s OK. That’s kind of the point.

This is not something we can fix overnight. Some of the problems we face have no obvious solution. But what’s important is that we do something. Otherwise we allow these problems to fester, to embed themselves in our lives, and our situation becomes even more impossible.

We have to dream. We have to act. We have to find a more hopeful future.

We have to make politics better.

Peace and love,

Tatton

A

Alert! Alert! Alert!

Why the twenty-four-hour news cycle can be harmful

Hoverflies are crafty and deceptive beasts. They fly around all summer long, with their yellow and black markings, lying to us.

‘Look at me!’ they shout. ‘I’m a wasp! Or maybe a bee. Possibly even a hornet. I am really very dangerous. Come near me and I’ll sting you. A sting like you’ve never had in your life. You’ll probably die.’

Of course, this is all pretend. These duplicitous creatures have no sting. None whatsoever. The most harm they can do is bump against your arm in a grumpy manner.

The worst thing about this deceitful and dishonest pretence is that it works. Us humans, supposedly an advanced race, run screaming. You should see the scenes that can be created in a primary-school playground.

We don’t like yellow-and-black insects. We rarely stop long enough to look at the insect in question and make sure it is indeed one of the stingy ones before we dissolve into panic. It’s human nature.

That yellow-and-black combination has crept into all sorts of warning signs in our lives: flammable materials, electrical hazards – and breaking news banners. Someone at Sky News has learned the hoverfly’s trick.

In the past most people consumed their news at precise times during the day: the newspaper in the morning, on the TV in their choice of evening slots or on a radio broadcast. And that would be that until the next day. Now? We have rolling news channels, the internet, apps on our phones, chat radio – the constant thud of news, news, news. They have ways to keep our attention. And they’re not afraid to use them.

Whenever anything happens – a politician says something controversial, a celebrity breaks up with someone, a crime is committed – it’s time to go full hoverfly.

It’s time for Breaking News.

Someone somewhere presses a button and the banner flashes up, creating a physical reaction in the viewers, demanding their full attention. Turn the volume up. Wave vaguely at the people around them to be quiet.

The banner at the bottom of the screen soon tells you what you – ahem – ‘need’ to know. You can exhale. This one wasn’t a terrorist attack or the announcement of a general election or yet another prime minister resigning.

It does the channel good, though, to have you gripped. If watching is an adrenaline-fuelled roller coaster, that’s better than a calm, gentle and informative programme. We like that.

All of which encourages the news channels to throw out an increasing number of Breaking News alerts. They do it before an event even happens. The Budget is in the diary for months in advance, but come Budget Day you’ll get that black-and-yellow banner telling you it’s Budget Day. There is no way that this is ‘breaking’.

The worst example of intentionally keeping people on edge with no substance at all is on Sky Sports News (admittedly a sports rolling news channel, but it’s along the same lines). During the football transfer window (the set times that players can be bought or sold by Premier League clubs) the channel now has a countdown, displayed in big, black, bold writing, that runs until the window closes.

It informs you how many days are left. Standard. It also shows the hours. With over a week left, telling us we have 10 days and 6 hours to go feels a bit specific, but fine. Did I mention they also count the minutes? 10 days, 6 hours and 28 minutes. Also, the seconds. 10 days, 6 hours, 28 minutes and 45 seconds. Also the milliseconds, frantic little numbers that never, ever stop. Unending in their message that this is very urgent and we all need to be in full fight or flight mode. I like football, but even I think it’s exhausting.

And that’s a fairly benign example compared with the constant barrage of stories designed to keep our attention. The news channels know what you want. They know the stories that draw you in. In Shakespeare’s Troilus and Cressida, Thersites watches the action of the play and fumes, ‘Lechery, lechery; still wars and lechery; nothing else holds fashion.’ That was true then and it’s still true now.

What we respond to are stories of conflict and scandal. We want to know that an MP has been caught watching porn in the House of Commons. We want to know if someone was partying when we were in lockdown. We want to know about the wars going on in any given political party.

Those banners about the Budget coming up or PMQs about to start are there with a promise of conflict. Drawing you in to watch the circus.

What doesn’t hold fashion is the stuff that matters. The debates in the House of Commons in which changes are made to bills that will shape areas of your life. The committee hearings where MPs work together to make crucial recommendations on their specialist subjects.

We are given a false idea of our politicians and our political processes. We see them at their worst, which is shoved under our noses, but very rarely at their best.

There is, of course, a clear solution to these channels blasting their anxiety-fuelling faux news at you. The solution is not to watch them. There is plenty on TV to divert your interest. Amazon Prime has an entire channel that is just Homes Under the Hammer. All day, every day.

These doom-laden messages are no longer just on your TV, though. They’re in your pocket too.

Just under a quarter of the phone-owning population of the UK has the BBC News app installed. That’s 12 million people. Sky, the second biggest (discounting BBC Sport), has 3 million people enthralled with its app. Both apps throw out notifications. That should be a really useful feature. It should tell us when there is something big going on. Something worth knowing about.

You know where this is going. They don’t ping us a notification only when there is something important. They bombard us around the clock. One week at SP we counted. Between the BBC and Sky, there were 122 notifications in seven days. They broke such heavy-hitting stories as Ken Bruce leaving Radio 2 and Madonna announcing a new tour.

When we see that notification on our phone, it’s not like the banner flashing up on the TV screen. We have to open the app to see what’s going on. In the time it takes us to do so we don’t know if war has broken out. We don’t know if there is a mutant ninja variant of Covid. We don’t know if Dua Lipa has tried a new lip gloss.

Even if the alert does indicate what sort of news update we’re looking at, it’s deliberately worded to trick us into thinking it’s a bigger story than it is.

All these alerts keep us in a constant state of tension. They cause anxiety, these 122 little earthquakes a week. It’s not healthy. It’s not helpful. We need to know if there is a swarm of hornets. We don’t need to know about the hoverfly.

The impact it has on our view of politics and our political institutions is also unhealthy and unhelpful. We withdraw. We say they’re all the same. We stop paying attention.

We can’t expect the channels and the apps and the stinging insects to help us deal with this. They’ve shown us again and again they won’t do that. So, we need to act ourselves. To wean ourselves away from the cycle. To move on from the dopamine hit of the notification. We need to find alternative ways to find out news. A way that’s serious when it needs to be, but also doesn’t try to be alarmist. To drag our attention away from the titillating scandals and focus on the important updates from Westminster.

This is the aim for Simple Politics. We’re on social media trying to be the solution. Posting everything we think you need to know about politics. People do tell me that we’ve helped their mental health. They say they’ve deleted the news apps and rely on our calmer and more reflective approach. One person even told me over lockdown that their GP had suggested they follow us.

I won’t bang on about that now, though, because I don’t want to blow my own trumpet quite so early in the book. Also, I’m aware that we only cover politics and some people do want to read about crime stories in the news as well. Perhaps you want to read a little about celebrities, too. That’s fine.

The good news is that there are news outlets that don’t engage with these practices. Short-form, easily accessible news. Radio 1 (and all its sister stations) has Newsbeat. It’s a delightful, informative and mercifully brief outlet. I have met people who avoid everything but Newsround on CBBC. These are both aimed at young people, though, so the stories they tell are focused on a young demographic. They’re not for everyone.

I’ve offered you a few potential ways to escape this weaponised anxiety. Take charge of your own media consumption. Start following SP (sorry, I know, shameless). Watch and listen to children’s/young people’s news. That’s not a brilliant selection of solutions.

As a country, we need to do better. We need to find a way to get calm, clear and concise news on mainstream, adult TV (as in BBC One, not Babestation). We have such a wide media landscape. Why can’t our publicly funded broadcaster manage to give us our news in a manageable way?

Sky has regular features on mental health, but doesn’t look at its own impact. It shouldn’t be unreasonable to expect something better from the media. If we need to adjust, surely they do too. It’s through these mainstream news outlets that the vast majority of us engage with the way our country is being run. And yet we’re overwhelmed with distraction and hype, with wars and lechery.

Perhaps it’s just a case of putting our purchasing-power shoulder to the wheel. If we can demonstrate that we won’t be seduced by their overhyped hoverfly-esque stories, surely the market will give us what we do want?

We won’t know unless we try.

B

Boys Like Me

The importance of equality, diversity and representation

You probably don’t know what I look like. You’re building a mental image from these words, which I assume have vaguely posh-white-boy vibes – the floppy hair probably oozes from the page.

I really am that stereotype. A tall, posh, white man in my forties. I can dress quite smartly. I’m relatively good at communication (you’re reading this, so I hope you agree). I can talk in public. My work is in and around politics. And whenever I meet someone and they find this out, there is one question I am always asked. Every time.

‘Oh, that’s fascinating,’ they say. ‘And, tell me, have you ever thought of running for office yourself?’

The answer is always no. I have no desire to go down that route. I have never expressed a desire to do so.

So . . . why do I get asked so often? I think the answer is simple. I look and sound like someone who people imagine could be an MP. Through the accident of birth people think that boys like me could – and possibly should – be voted into office.

Sure, you’ve got Rishi Sunak, Liz Truss and Theresa May, but they don’t draw as much attention as Boris Johnson. David Cameron was prime minister for six years – an impossibly long time in today’s climate. Before that? Gordon Brown. Tony Blair. We don’t always have a deputy prime minister but the last ones we had were Nick Clegg and Dominic Raab.

Meanwhile, the proportion of women in the House of Commons is roughly 35 per cent. After the 2019 General Election there were sixty-five MPs from an ethnic minority. That’s 10 per cent. A record number, admittedly, but the 2021 census says that 18 per cent of the UK population is from an ethnic minority.

There is a class element, too. Of course there is, it’s the UK.