David Cameron's misappropriation of the word "privilege"

The Prime Minister says he wants to spread privilege - the IEA's Philip Booth really hopes that isn't what he meant.

Given the constraints of political speech-making, David Cameron's effort earlier this week was reasonable. There was the misunderstanding of international trade that one always gets from politicians when he said that developed countries were in a global race and faced a sink or swim situation. This is a common misconception. But, trade theory is tough, even for those who have the best education money can buy, so this line of reasoning is understandable. Of course, when new nations develop there are more opportunities for specialisation and trade, not fewer. The developing countries get richer and, although there may be some particular industries that suffer problems as a result of changing trading patterns, we are not in a race in some kind of zero sum game. The growth of China and India change the big picture relatively little. With good policy, our economy might grow at two to three per cent per year and with bad policy it might grow at zero to two per cent per year. Our concern should be to have good policy at home - but not because we are in some kind of economic race towards a fixed prize.

David Cameron's second error though, was rather surprising coming from somebody with a degree in PPE from Oxford. One should never be too harsh on politicians in front of a camera. It is easy to use the wrong words or for the words to come out in the wrong order. However, this was a carefully scripted speech written by professionals.

After pointing to his own educational background, Cameron said that he wanted to "spread privilege". I really hope not.

Privilege involves law that benefits the few (though, to interpret the principle more widely, the few could even be the majority). In the Soviet Union, travelling abroad was a privilege. In this country, pension contributions are "tax privileged". Doctors are privileged by laws restricting entry. An expensive education is definitely not a privilege - it is a freedom. It is a freedom that few can exercise but this does not make it a privilege.

What we definitely do not want to do is "spread privilege". Spreading privilege really means creating lots more situations where there are laws in existence for the benefit of the few. However, I am sure that is not what David Cameron intended to argue for; his intention, I am sure, was to say "widen privileges" so that existing privileges are available to more people.

But, even this is not what we should aspire to. The equivalent in the Soviet Union would be to pass a law letting some more people travel. What David Cameron really means is that he wants to "widen opportunity" or, better still, "restrain freedom less". The corporatist interpretation of his aspiration would be that he wants to ensure that education is better for everybody. The liberal (in the proper sense of the word) interpretation is that he wants to give many, many more families the freedom to choose their children's education.

Does any of this matter? Yes, it does. The meanings of words evolve, but those who believe in freedom are used to having words hijacked because it enables the enemies of freedom to make their case in an underhand way. This is why I had to put "in the proper sense of the word" in brackets after using the word "liberal". The word privilege is already used by the left in the education debate in a way that is very damaging. They argue that "higher education should be a right and not a privilege". In fact, this is using the word in the same way as David Cameron uses the word - and this is disastrous in the debate. Under new funding arrangements higher education will become a "freedom". Under old funding arrangements it was a "privilege" because laws had to be passed and regulations made that limited higher education to the few as a result of fiscal constraints (and that higher education was financed by the many for the benefit of the few). In fact, those on the liberal side of the debate are demanding that higher education should be "a freedom and not a privilege". Those on the left are actually arguing that higher education should be "a privilege and neither a freedom nor a right". The last slogan does not trip off the tongue quite as well and I am not sure the left would get much traction from using it - hence their desire to redefine words. It is the left that believe in privilege because, if access to goods and services is free, then that access has to be restricted by law creating a privileged few.

Privilege is inimical to a free society. Indeed, it is the fight against privilege that should define everything that Conservative and Liberal parties should stand for. It was a fight that began with Magna Carta. Please, let us not have a policy of spreading privilege. And please, let us also not help the left in redefining the language of freedom.

Philip Booth is Editorial and Programme Director at the Institute of Economic Affairs

A couple of privileged French fops. Image: Getty Images

Philip Booth is Editorial and Programme Director at the Institute of Economic Affairs.

 

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Arsène Wenger: how can an intelligent manager preside over such a hollowed-out team?

The Arsenal manager faces a frustrating legacy.

Sport is obviously not all about winning, but it is about justified hope. That ­distinction has provided, until recently, a serious defence of Arsène Wenger’s Act II – the losing part. Arsenal haven’t won anything big for 13 years. But they have been close enough (and this is a personal view) to sustain the experience of investing emotionally in the story. Hope turning to disappointment is fine. It’s when the hope goes, that’s the problem.

Defeat takes many forms. In both 2010 and 2011, Arsenal lost over two legs to Barcelona in the Champions League. Yet these were rich and rewarding sporting experiences. In the two London fixtures of those ties, Arsenal drew 2-2 and won 2-1 against the most dazzling team in the world. Those nights reinvigorated my pride in sport. The Emirates Stadium had the best show in town. Defeat, when it arrived in Barcelona, was softened by gratitude. We’d been entertained, more than entertained.

Arsenal’s 5-1 surrender to Bayern Munich on 15 February was very different. In this capitulation by instalments, the fascination was macabre rather than dramatic. Having long given up on discerning signs of life, we began the post-mortem mid-match. As we pored over the entrails, the curiosity lay in the extent of the malady that had brought down the body. The same question, over and over: how could such an intelligent, deep-thinking manager preside over a hollowed-out team? How could failings so obvious to outsiders, the absence of steel and resilience, evade the judgement of the boss?

There is a saying in rugby union that forwards (the hard men) determine who wins, and the backs (the glamour boys) decide by how much. Here is a footballing equivalent: midfielders define matches, attacking players adorn them and defenders get the blame. Yet Arsenal’s players as good as vacated the midfield. It is hard to judge how well Bayern’s playmakers performed because they were operating in a vacuum; it looked like a morale-boosting training-ground drill, free from the annoying presence of opponents.

I have always been suspicious of the ­default English critique which posits that mentally fragile teams can be turned around by licensed on-field violence – a good kicking, basically. Sporting “character” takes many forms; physical assertiveness is only one dimension.

Still, it remains baffling, Wenger’s blind spot. He indulges artistry, especially the mercurial Mesut Özil, beyond the point where it serves the player. Yet he won’t protect the magicians by surrounding them with effective but down-to-earth talents. It has become a diet of collapsing soufflés.

What held back Wenger from buying the linchpin midfielder he has lacked for many years? Money is only part of the explanation. All added up, Arsenal do spend: their collective wage bill is the fourth-highest in the League. But Wenger has always been reluctant to lavish cash on a single star player, let alone a steely one. Rather two nice players than one great one.

The power of habit has become debilitating. Like a wealthy but conservative shopper who keeps going back to the same clothes shop, Wenger habituates the same strata of the transfer market. When he can’t get what he needs, he’s happy to come back home with something he’s already got, ­usually an elegant midfielder, tidy passer, gets bounced in big games, prone to going missing. Another button-down blue shirt for a drawer that is well stuffed.

It is almost universally accepted that, as a business, Arsenal are England’s leading club. Where their rivals rely on bailouts from oligarchs or highly leveraged debt, Arsenal took tough choices early and now appear financially secure – helped by their manager’s ability to engineer qualification for the Champions League every season while avoiding excessive transfer costs. Does that count for anything?

After the financial crisis, I had a revealing conversation with the owner of a private bank that had sailed through the turmoil. Being cautious and Swiss, he explained, he had always kept more capital reserves than the norm. As a result, the bank had made less money in boom years. “If I’d been a normal chief executive, I’d have been fired by the board,” he said. Instead, when the economic winds turned, he was much better placed than more bullish rivals. As a competitive strategy, his winning hand was only laid bare by the arrival of harder times.

In football, however, the crash never came. We all wrote that football’s insane spending couldn’t go on but the pace has only quickened. Even the Premier League’s bosses confessed to being surprised by the last extravagant round of television deals – the cash that eventually flows into the hands of managers and then the pockets of players and their agents.

By refusing to splash out on the players he needed, whatever the cost, Wenger was hedged for a downturn that never arrived.

What an irony it would be if football’s bust comes after he has departed. Imagine the scenario. The oligarchs move on, finding fresh ways of achieving fame, respectability and the protection achieved by entering the English establishment. The clubs loaded with debt are forced to cut their spending. Arsenal, benefiting from their solid business model, sail into an outright lead, mopping up star talent and trophies all round.

It’s often said that Wenger – early to invest in data analytics and worldwide scouts; a pioneer of player fitness and lifestyle – was overtaken by imitators. There is a second dimension to the question of time and circumstance. He helped to create and build Arsenal’s off-field robustness, even though football’s crazy economics haven’t yet proved its underlying value.

If the wind turns, Arsène Wenger may face a frustrating legacy: yesterday’s man and yet twice ahead of his time. 

Ed Smith is a journalist and author, most recently of Luck. He is a former professional cricketer and played for both Middlesex and England.

This article first appeared in the 24 February 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The world after Brexit