The (im)morality of markets

How "Hedge Fund Hugh" manages to defend the indefensible.

Hugh Hendry, an engagingly straightforward hedge-fund manager, made another appearance on Newsnight last night -- he's been on before, holding his own rather well against Joseph Stiglitz (or "Joe" Stiglitz, as I noted Ken Clarke called him during the recent Any Questions he appeared on with Mehdi).

Hendry was being attacked by Poul Rasmussen, president of the Party of European Socialists and the driving force behind proposals to limit the activities of hedge funds. Rasmussen said that the way Hendry and his ilk had affected the price of government debts -- Greece's in particular -- was not "democratically acceptable", that they were hurting innocent people by their actions and making structural problems worse.

One's natural sympathy was on the side of Rasmussen. It is very hard to see any merit in the kind of international speculation that made George Soros, for instance, so rich -- which is why I have always been bemused that a man whose wealth and prominence derives from the misfortune of others should be treated with such respect.

But Hendry did a very good job of making himself out as the one who was behaving morally. "If Greece reforms its behaviour, then speculation against it will be profitless," he said, quite truthfully. "I'm trying to save us putting more money into this black hole which is Greece's economy."

Newsnight's reporter Justin Rowlatt had asked him earlier in the programme, with some incredulity: "So are you saying you're providing us with a social service?"

Hendry could see this one coming, but replied: "Maybe I'm naive, maybe I'm foolish, but I believe that I'm the guard dog of the capitalist system." Greece had been caught "cheating", he said -- a statement with which I don't think anyone can disagree -- and was now paying the price.

My point is this: to me Hendry, was the far more convincing guest, because his argument was totally consistent. The "morality" he believes to be contained within the market is the one which is now doling out punishment to Greece, and deservedly so, he would say.

I suspect that Rasmussen does not believe that markets are in any way "moral" at all. Indeed, if he thinks that they are by their very nature cruel and immoral, I would agree with him. He probably regards market economies as necessary, but not virtuous.

Why then, however, would he expect people who really do believe in the market to abide by his moral values? If you sup with the devil . . .

You can find the whole report and the exchange that followed on BBC iPlayer, about 20 minutes in. It's well worth a look. Even if you don't agree with him, I think you'd have to admit that the aforementioned devil has a remarkably good advocate in Hendry.

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Sholto Byrnes is a Contributing Editor to the New Statesman
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The Women's March against Trump matters – but only if we keep fighting

We won’t win the battle for progressive ideas if we don’t battle in the first place.

Arron Banks, UKIP-funder, Brexit cheerleader and Gibraltar-based insurance salesman, took time out from Trump's inauguration to tweet me about my role in tomorrow's Women’s March Conservative values are in the ascendancy worldwide. Thankfully your values are finished. . . good”.

Just what about the idea of women and men marching for human rights causes such ill will? The sense it is somehow cheeky to say we will champion equality whoever is in office in America or around the world. After all, if progressives like me have lost the battle of ideas, what difference does it make whether we are marching, holding meetings or just moaning on the internet?

The only anti-democratic perspective is to argue that when someone has lost the argument they have to stop making one. When political parties lose elections they reflect, they listen, they learn but if they stand for something, they don’t disband. The same is true, now, for the broader context. We should not dismiss the necessity to learn, to listen, to reflect on the rise of Trump – or indeed reflect on the rise of the right in the UK  but reject the idea that we have to take a vow of silence if we want to win power again.

To march is not to ignore the challenges progressives face. It is to start to ask what are we prepared to do about it.

Historically, conservatives have had no such qualms about regrouping and remaining steadfast in the confidence they have something worth saying. In contrast, the left has always been good at absolving itself of the need to renew.

We spend our time seeking the perfect candidates, the perfect policy, the perfect campaign, as a precondition for action. It justifies doing nothing except sitting on the sidelines bemoaning the state of society.

We also seem to think that changing the world should be easier than reality suggests. The backlash we are now seeing against progressive policies was inevitable once we appeared to take these gains for granted and became arrogant and exclusive about the inevitability of our worldview. Our values demand the rebalancing of power, whether economic, social or cultural, and that means challenging those who currently have it. We may believe that a more equal world is one in which more will thrive, but that doesn’t mean those with entrenched privilege will give up their favoured status without a fight or that the public should express perpetual gratitude for our efforts via the ballot box either.  

Amongst the conferences, tweets and general rumblings there seem three schools of thought about what to do next. The first is Marxist  as in Groucho revisionism: to rise again we must water down our principles to accommodate where we believe the centre ground of politics to now be. Tone down our ideals in the hope that by such acquiescence we can eventually win back public support for our brand – if not our purpose. The very essence of a hollow victory.

The second is to stick to our guns and stick our heads in the sand, believing that eventually, when World War Three breaks out, the public will come grovelling back to us. To luxuriate in an unwillingness to see we are losing not just elected offices but the fight for our shared future.

But what if there really was a third way? It's not going to be easy, and it requires more than a hashtag or funny t-shirt. It’s about picking ourselves up, dusting ourselves down and starting to renew our call to arms in a way that makes sense for the modern world.

For the avoidance of doubt, if we march tomorrow and then go home satisfied we have made our point then we may as well not have marched at all. But if we march and continue to organise out of the networks we make, well, then that’s worth a Saturday in the cold. After all, we won’t win the battle of ideas, if we don’t battle.

We do have to change the way we work. We do have to have the courage not to live in our echo chambers alone. To go with respect and humility to debate and discuss the future of our communities and of our country.

And we have to come together to show there is a willingness not to ask a few brave souls to do that on their own. Not just at election times, but every day and in every corner of Britain, no matter how difficult it may feel.

Saturday is one part of that process of finding others willing not just to walk a mile with a placard, but to put in the hard yards to win the argument again for progressive values and vision. Maybe no one will show up. Maybe not many will keep going. But whilst there are folk with faith in each other, and in that alternative future, they’ll find a friend in me ready to work with them and will them on  and then Mr Banks really should be worried.