Time to talk human, Ed

Abstraction hides Labour leader’s message

What is the “squeezed middle”? Is it:

(a) a socio-economic phenomenon characterised by median wage stagnation combined with real terms rises in the cost of living affecting middle and lower income deciles.

Or is it:

(b) Getting to the supermarket checkout and having to take items out of the basket; paying for school meals a week at a time when you used to pay up front for the whole term; dreading the arrival of the postman each day because you know he’s bringing more bills?

What is “responsible capitalism”? Is it:

(a) A paradigm shift in the balance of economic power recognising the dysfunctionality of an obsolescent neo-liberal model that has embedded structural inequalities.

Or

(b) Having someone in the bank who actually listens to you and wants to help you develop your idea for a new business; a gas company that is as quick to cut bills when the oil price falls as it is to hike them when the price rises; a rail company that doesn’t make you sit on hold on a premium rate number to book a ticket.

What is “predistribution”?

(a) A conceptual framework for the pursuit of social democratic ambitions for social change at a time when conventional models of tax-ands-spend redistribution are rendered inaccessible by enduring fiscal constraints.

(b) A decent wage for a decent day’s work; a place in a brilliant nursery that doesn’t cost the earth so you can go to work, knowing that your kids are getting the best possible start in life.

Trick questions, obviously. In each case, it is both. They are all Ed Miliband buzz phrases – although it would be a grotesque misreading of national preoccupations to say any of them has generated a buzz outside the Labour party. The reason for playing that little linguistic game of parallel definitions is to illustrate a problem that Miliband badly needs to overcome if he is to advance his ambitions to run the country. There is the abstract, wonkish, analytical idiom – answer (a) – and then there are real people who cast real votes – answer (b). Until Miliband finds a way to transfer his ideas from one to the other, he will not persuade people that the Labour party is ready for government. It is hard to win a campaign when no-one has the faintest idea what you are on about.

Miliband’s allies and the people who help draft his speeches will respond that he does, in fact, anchor his ideas in the real world. This is just about true at a rhetorical level. The speech he gave on 6 September on the subject of “predistribution” contained studious references to ordinary human experience: there were “struggling small businesses [that] they have fewer people coming through the door” and “young people scouring the Jobcentre for work [who] know that there aren’t enough vacancies.”

That is an advance on his now famous (in rarefied political circles) party conference speech last year, when he introduced the idea of “predatory” and “productive” businesses without apparently having prepared for the inevitable subsequent demand that he identify concrete examples of each.

To be fair, the most recent speech was delivered at an economic conference hosted by a think tank. It wasn’t an election rally or a rehearsal for this year’s annual conference. But it was part of a concerted campaign of autumn re-entry into the political game; a setting out of the stall and a bid to demonstrate that there is more to Labour’s offer than simply waiting for the coalition to fall apart. Part of that campaign included an interview with the New Statesman in which Miliband explicitly and vigorously rejected the charge that he was quietly hoping to resume where Labour left off in 2010.

That much should be obvious. The budget situation that a Labour government would inherit – brutal spending constraints lasting for a decade or longer – mean the old model of ever-expanding social intervention, mediated by the Treasury and bankrolled out of general taxation, is not an option. That may be substantially George Osborne’s fault if, as Labour alleges, it  is his policies that have suffocated growth. But it is still Ed Miliband’s problem. It is good that he says as much.

The charge that the Tories hope to bring at the next election is that the country cannot afford another Labour government and that Miliband doesn’t know how to deliver any of the social benefits he promises without confiscating money from you and me or borrowing it. Debt aversion is a powerful driver of conservative impulses. (Yes, I know the macroeconomic arguments that distinguish the national finances sheet from a household budget, but until someone finds a way to express Keynes’s paradox of thrift in a pithy soundbite, Labour look like the party of wild national sprees on the never-never.)

Miliband recognises that he needs a convincing account of how Labour can realise its traditional aims of social regeneration in recognition of limited government means. Inevitably that will require some account of budget priorities, which in turn will demand some reconciliation with harsh decisions made by the coalition. The Labour leader and the shadow chancellor have so far tiptoed up to that conversation but not, in any meaningful sense, joined it. One justification for that caution – as I have written before – is that premature professions of fiscal rigour could easily be twisted by the Conservatives to look like confessions of responsibility for the deficit. Explicitly promising to spend less in the future risks polluting Ed Balls’s argument (supported by a regiment of non-partisan economists) that cutting “too far, too fast” is the very reason we are in a double dip recession. The question that many in the shadow cabinet ask with increasing urgency is when, exactly, the Labour leadership  intends to make the transition from short-term macroeconomic prescription (the Five-Point Plan) and abstract ambitions for socio-economic revolution (Responsible Capitalism) to actual policies that campaigners can deploy on the doorstep. The answer I get when I pose this question to people at the top of the Labour high command is “not yet.”

This is a straightforward gamble. It assumes that the coalition has more unravelling to do and the Tory party has some way further to go in its perverse journey of brand recontamination, obviating the need for Labour to surrender detailed policy hostages to fortune. Jon Cruddas’s policy review is meant to be looking at ways to translate the Miliband agenda into real world messages that resonate around kitchen tables and its work has only just begun. The next election is, in all probability, still more than two years away. There is time.

The risk is that the pace of coalition meltdown brings Miliband’s offer under sustained interrogation long before he is ready to answer difficult questions about his intended stewardship of the nation’s finances. At the moment the appetite for rigorous thinking and the exercise of tough choices is strongest among people broadly sympathetic to Miliband’s programme. Policy minds of the left and centre left are engaging constructively with the challenge that they see stretching out before the Labour party.

There is, for example, an important essay coming up in the forthcoming edition of Juncture, a journal produced by the Institute for Public Policy Research, co-authored by Nick Pearce, IPPR director, and Gavin Kelly of the Resolution Foundation (writing in a personal capacity). They were two of the most senior figures in the Downing Street policy unit under Labour and are highly respected in Whitehall and across party lines in Westminster. The article explores in new detail the options available to a government of the centre-left that is both realistic about the fiscal situation and ambitious in effecting radical structural reforms to the economy. It deserves and will no doubt get close attention from the Labour leadership.

Unless embraced and acted upon, that spirit of helpful engagement could quickly be overshadowed by more hostile interventions. The derision initially heaped on Miliband’s conference speech last year was checked by a dawning recognition among critics that the Labour leader, for all the flaws of his presentation, might actually have been on to something. There was even a moment earlier this year when it looked as if Miliband had started something of an intellectual arms race for ownership of the “moral/responsible capitalism” agenda. Conservative engagement on that front withered in the radioactive fall out from George Osborne’s disastrous budget.

Yet the reprieve for Miliband is temporary. He might have persuaded a few people that he has an interesting analysis of what is wrong with the British economy, but if he can’t then turn that into a credible prescription for fixing it, the scorn will return with renewed force. Instead of attacking him for having no ideas, the Tories can attack him for having unworkable ideas, at best, or – more likely – just talking high fallutin’ gibberish that doesn’t contain a credible promise to bring home the national bacon. It is a law of politics that when a candidate fails to give his agenda definition, his enemies will gladly define it for him in the worst possible terms. That, broadly speaking, is what happened to Cameron’s Big Society. (I wrote more about the lessons for Miliband from that project here.)

Which brings us back to Answers (a) and (b) to those questions at the start. Miliband is immensely comfortable with the language of ideas and theory. He knows he has to express himself also through experience of the real world, which is where politics has to operate to be in any way effective. But it is hard to escape the impression from his speeches and media performances that he finds the gear change awkward. It is as if he is running a constant process of simultaneous translation in his head from the (a) answer to the (b) one … or relying on aides to do the translation for him.

The problem is not insurmountable. It helps that Cameron has his own very different problems indicating that he understands the pain and insecurity that a stagnant economy inflicts on people who have not benefited from a charmed cruise up to the highest office in the land. But when he performs at his best, Cameron is fluent in answers (b). His difficulty, as some more thoughtful Tories recognise, is that he didn’t bother even thinking through answers (a) in opposition.

And yes, I recognise that this long, rambling blog post has hardly been a lesson in accessible prose, for which apologies to anyone who has read this far. The point is that Miliband has launched himself into the new political season invigorated and confident with what he sees as a bold new message. He believes it is exciting, challenging and disruptive to conventional thinking and stale orthodoxy. All of which might be true. But there is a kind of radicalism, especially on the left, that, when neatly encapsulated in abstract theories, is also a place of retreat, a kind of shying away from the grim, hand-dirtying business of making political choices and rough compromises that affect people’s lives. So, a question for the Labour party conference this year - is Ed Miliband:

(a) The leader who took the first steps to set Labour on a course of recovery from the divisions of the Blair/Brown era and established an interesting intellectual framework for his successors to build a credible platform for 21st Century social democracy in an age of austerity?

Or can he be:

(b) Britain’s next Prime Minister?

Ed Miliband - "immensely comfortable with the language of ideas and theory." Photograph: Getty Images.

Rafael Behr is political columnist at the Guardian and former political editor of the New Statesman

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Leader: Trump's dangerous nation

From North Korea to Virginia, the US increasingly resembles a rogue state.

When Donald Trump was elected as US president, some optimistically suggested that the White House would have a civilising effect on the erratic tycoon. Under the influence of his more experienced colleagues, they argued, he would gradually absorb the norms of international diplomacy.

After seven months, these hopes have been exposed as delusional. On 8 August, he responded to North Korea’s increasing nuclear capabilities by threatening “fire and fury like the world has never seen”. Three days later, he casually floated possible military action against Venezuela. Finally, on 12 August, he responded to a white supremacist rally in Virginia by condemning violence on “many sides” (only criticising the far right specifically after two days of outrage).

Even by Mr Trump’s low standards, it was an embarrassing week. Rather than normalising the president, elected office has merely inflated his self-regard. The consequences for the US and the world could be momentous.

North Korea’s reported acquisition of a nuclear warhead small enough to fit on an intercontinental missile (and potentially reach the US) demanded a serious response. Mr Trump’s apocalyptic rhetoric was not it. His off-the-cuff remarks implied that the US could launch a pre-emptive strike against North Korea, leading various officials to “clarify” the US position. Kim Jong-un’s regime is rational enough to avoid a pre-emptive strike that would invite a devastating retaliation. However, there remains a risk that it misreads Mr Trump’s intentions and rushes to action.

Although the US should uphold the principle of nuclear deterrence, it must also, in good faith, pursue a diplomatic solution. The week before Mr Trump’s remarks, the US secretary of state, Rex Tillerson, rightly ruled out “regime change” and held out the possibility of “a dialogue”.

The North Korean regime is typically depicted as crazed, but its pursuit of nuclear weapons rests on rational foundations. The project is designed to guarantee its survival and to strengthen its bargaining hand. As such, it must be given incentives to pursue a different path.

Mr Trump’s bellicose language overshadowed the successful agreement of new UN sanctions against North Korea (targeting a third of its $3bn exports). Should these prove insufficient, the US should resume the six-party talks of the mid-2000s and even consider direct negotiations.

A failure of diplomacy could be fatal. In his recent book Destined for War, the Harvard historian Graham Allison warns that the US and China could fall prey to “Thucydides’s trap”. According to this rule, dating from the clash between Athens and Sparta, war typically results when a dominant power is challenged by an ascendent rival. North Korea, Mr Bew writes, could provide the spark for a new “great power conflict” between the US and China.

Nuclear standoffs require immense patience, resourcefulness and tact – all qualities in which Mr Trump is lacking. Though the thought likely never passed his mind, his threats to North Korea and Venezuela provide those countries with a new justification for internal repression.

Under Mr Trump’s leadership, the US is becoming an ever more fraught, polarised nation. It was no accident that the violent events in Charlottesville, Virginia, culminating in the death of the 32-year-old Heather Heyer, took place under his presidency. Mr Trump’s victory empowered every racist, misogynist and bigot in the land. It was doubtless this intimate connection that prevented him from immediately condemning the white supremacists. To denounce them is, in effect, to denounce himself.

The US hardly has an unblemished history. It has been guilty of reckless, immoral interventions in Vietnam, Latin America and Iraq. But never has it been led by a man so heedless of international and domestic norms. Those Republicans who enabled Mr Trump’s rise and preserve him in office must do so no longer. There is a heightened responsibility, too, on the US’s allies to challenge, rather than to indulge, the president. The Brexiteers have allowed dreams of a future US-UK trade deal to impair their morality.

Under Mr Trump, the US increasingly resembles a breed it once denounced: a rogue state. His former rival Hillary Clinton’s past warning that “a man you can bait with a tweet is not a man we can trust with nuclear weapons” now appears alarmingly prescient.

This article first appeared in the 17 August 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Trump goes nuclear