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This is no conspiracy, Glenn Beck: Laurie Penny on Uncut

The UK and US Uncut movements are a genuinely popular, if gentle, insurrection. So why are their members being branded "extremists"?

The greatest conspiracies happen in plain sight. Today, across the Northern Hemisphere, activists from the grass-roots movement UK Uncut and its newly-formed sister group US Uncut are staging more than 90 protests in local branches of Natwest, Bank of America and the Royal Bank of Scotland, in locations from Hawaii to the English town of Ashby de la Zouch.

The blackboard-happy, shoutyporn shock jock Glenn Beck has denounced this growing movement as a "conspiracy", telling Fox News that "this unrest could spread from Middle East to Europe and eventually America... this would be co-ordinated all around the world."

Welcome as Beck's condemnation is to left-wing protesters, the yammering wingnut happens to be right. This is indeed a global insurrection, albeit a gentle one, running on poster paint, caffeine and cross-continental co-ordination via horizontal networks and it does come with an overtone of threat. I have spent the past week with members of UK Uncut and affiliated movements as they made placards and managed their twitter feeds, responding to messages of solidarity from across the world, from Wisconsin to Tahrir Square.

This morning, preparing for the latest protest and slurping down a hasty mug of tea, I watched one activist adjust her leotard for a heros-and-villains-themed flashmob, accessorised with a cloak bought for a Harry Potter costume party. Her friend, dressed as a tweedy university professor, put on a sinister Death Eater mask. "Look!" he said, "I'm Milton Friedman!" Red Army faction, it ain't; but right-wing pundits like Beck are still wetting themselves.

As I write, from one end of Oxford Street in London where 150 Uncutters are marching in the rain, activists are turning bank branches into temporary homeless shelters, libraries and classrooms. These are all vital public services due to be confiscated as world governments impose austerity programmes on their populations in order to bankroll the recklessness of global financiers. The protesters' message is simple: "The government," in the words of one 42-year-old UK Uncut protester, "should be making the banks pay, not ordinary people."

They make their point with flashmobs, bail-ins, street parties for pensioners and pre-schoolers, reclaiming the private space of banks and tax-avoiding businesses, relentlessly restating the hypocrisy of the financial elites. Courageous, yes; Baader-Meinhof-style conspiracy, no. What is most amusing, having spent time with the principled young people who began it all, is how thoroughly the commentariat is failing to understand what the hell is going on here.

The Uncut movement could be kids playing -- except that they have a scrupulous economic alternative and an informed network that stretches across the globe. They could be Glenn Beck's bug-eyed domestic extremists, except that the protests involve toddlers, grannies and young parents with brightly painted placards. In the UK, the police have responded with the classic pose of state agents on the back foot: panicked, malicious bewilderment. A protester shows me photo evidence on her phone of a previous demonstration, when a young woman was dragged away by the police for putting leaflets under a door. "They used CS spray, and three people ended up in hospital," she tells me.

Despite the cries of extremism, the Uncut movement is grounded on the same principles of fairness and accountability that politicians have mouthed for decades at the ballot box. Commentators and cabinet ministers nonetheless seem to be shocked by the notion that their electorates can, in fact, count.

Take the UK, for example, where the Royal Bank of Scotland was bailed out with £45bn of public money -- over half the government's £81bn austerity package -- and yet continues to award itself astronomical bonuses. Ordinary people who dare to stand against this manifest injustice are now "extremists". Students who post leaflets about tax avoidance through shop doors are "extremists". What kind of world are we living in, where wanting local libraries and schools to stay open is now "extremism", worthy of police crackdowns? What kind of society is this, if it is "extremist" for people to want to lead decent lives?

Conspiracy-touting like Beck's often looks like plain old scaremongering. In fact, those who toss out conspiracy theories often do so to distract themselves from larger, scarier, less manipulable outrages happening in plain sight. It is easy to rant at anyone who will listen about how the Pentagon bombed the twin towers; it's harder fully to conceptualise that Nato has bombed ten types of bloody hell out of the Gulf for a decade on the slightest of pretexts. Similarly, it is convenient for Beck and other wet-lipped neocon hate-peddlers to claim that the free world is under attack from a network of rabid communist conspirators; it is far less convenient for them to consider the notion that a real people's movement might be on the rise.

The notion that ordinary workers, students, pensioners and parents might finally have found the tools and the impetus to call out the lies of the powerful and demand accountability is deeply uncomfortable for reactionaries everywhere. That notion, the notion of a networked, principled people's resistance, is far more frightening to neoliberal governments than any terrorist cell.

Laurie Penny is a contributing editor to the New Statesman. She is the author of five books, most recently Unspeakable Things.

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The good, the bad, and the meaningless: Jeremy Corbyn’s “digital democracy” decoded

The Labour leader has promised to “democratise the internet” but which parts of his manifesto would actually work?

Jeremy Corbyn has promised to “democratise the internet”, speaking this morning at the launch of his eight-point digital manifesto at Newspeak House in east London.

“Labour under my leadership will utilise the advances of digital technology to mobilise the most visible general election campaign ever,” said Corbyn, in a clip you might have watched via a livestream on his Facebook page, before it crashed.

His manifesto sets out how Labour hopes to democratise the internet so that “no one and no community is left behind”. Unfortunately, some of the terminology used isn’t so universal. In a bid to leave no one behind, we thought we’d decode the manifesto here.

The good

Universal Service Network

It’s hard to argue with Corbyn’s first and largest proposal – that high speed broadband should be accessible across the country. According to the Labour leader, this would cost £25bn to implement and would be funded by his proposed National Investment Bank, “at minimal cost to the taxpayer”.

Although this is good idea, it isn’t a new one. The Conservatives already announced plans for a similar Universal Service Obligation (USO) in March, whereby everyone has a legal right to request download speeds of at least 10Mbps. A report published by Ofcom last week shows the government faces resistance from internet service providers who don’t want to pick up the extra costs.

The People’s Charter of Digital Liberties

Corbyn’s second most eye-catching suggestion, a digital bill of rights, is a win for anyone wary of Theresa May’s Snoopers Charter. He promises to protect personal privacy and “[enhance] the on-line rights of every individual”.

Platform Cooperatives

Corbyn hopes to “foster the cooperative ownership of digital platforms for distributing labour and selling services”, which essentially means he wants services like Airbnb, Deliveroo, and Uber to be community-run (or, if you want to go there, nationalised). The National Investment Bank would fund these websites and apps, which in turn would allow greater regulations of employment contracts. It’s quite a utopian vision and it's easy to be cynical about how this could work in practice, but were it to work, it could arguably transform the entire economy. 

The bad

Digital Citizen Passport

“We will develop a voluntary scheme that provides British citizens with a secure and portable identity for their on-line activities,” claims the manifesto, explaining this can be used to interact with public services like health, welfare, education and housing. Without even considering any potential security or privacy issues, the largest criticism of this proposal is that it already exists, as Gov.uk’s Verify.

Programming For Everyone

By encouraging publicly funded software and hardware to be released under an Open Source License, Corbyn dreams of a world where everyone can share code and learn from one another. Unfortunately, this opens up multiple privacy and security concerns, and Corbyn's other suggestions for teaching code also already exist, as the EU’s All You Need Is (C<3de) programme. 

The meaningless

Open Knowledge Library

At first glance, Corbyn’s proposal for a “free-to-use on-line hub of learning resources for the National Education Service” is undeniably a good idea. The problem is that the idea ends there, with no real discussion of what it is and how it will work. At present, it simply sounds like a publicly-funded version of resources that are already available (Wikipedia, anyone?).

Community Media Freedom

The entirety of this policy basically boils down to “free speech, yo”, which is, unarguably, fantastic. Unfortunately, the manifesto offers little in the way of explaining how its goals, such as stopping the “manipulation of software algorithms for private gain”, will actually be achieved.

Massive Multi-Person On-line Deliberation

Corbyn’s plan to “organise online . . . meetings for individuals and communities to deliberate about pressing political issues and participate in devising new legislation” is Twitter. It’s just Twitter.

The extras

Outside of this eight-point manifesto, here are some other things we learned today about Labour’s digital plans:

  • According to Corbyn, some MPs don’t turn on their computers because they do not know how to, which, honestly, shall we deal with that first?
  • Team Corbyn hopes that technology – and the visibility it allows – will be Labour’s "path to victory", which is nice, but what he really means is: memes.
  • Corbyn reveals he has an “open mind” about nationalising the broadband network.
  • Corbyn calls online abuse appalling and says that Labour is chasing down offensive material.
  • A team of coders called Coders for Corbyn have released some digital tools to show your support for the leader. Yes, the Corbyn emoji  Jeremoji  is about to be a thing.
  • The entire manifesto features “online” written as “on-line” and really, that is the real issue here.

Amelia Tait is a technology and digital culture writer at the New Statesman.