Labour's pluralist challenge

Labour is necessary, but no longer sufficient, for progressive advance.

I was 16 when Margaret Thatcher fell from power. One of the ways in which she changed the left was to half-convert the Labour Party to pluralism. Labour asked itself seriously for the first time whether there was anything much wrong with the British state that wouldn't be solved by Labour being in charge of it.

Anthony Barnett's Charter 88 created important civic pressure on Labour and Liberal Democrat politicians to create an extensive reform agenda. New Labour's first term did more to reform the British state than any government since 1911. In power, older instincts re-emerged, yet the effects of devolution and Freedom of Information will endure.

Yet Barnett's latest anti-Labour New Statesman polemic barks up the wrong tree. It would make a hung parliament less, not more likely. Voting against the big two is not the same thing as promoting a hung parliament. Voters who want to stop any party getting 326 seats should back the strongest anti-Tory candidate in any seat the Conservatives could win (until they think a Labour majority more likely than a Tory one).

Write Labour off as a lost cause and there will be no plausible, pluralist governing project for Britain any time in the next decade, either. The Greens seek a parliamentary foothold, the Lib Dems to hold 120 seats after two elections. Then what?

Any new settlement will require alliances, which are overwhelmingly more likely on the centre left. (By all means, try to make David Cameron's centrist rhetoric at least constrain his party's Thatcherite ambitions; the realistic goal may be the conservative one, to protect past advances from repeal.)

The great progressive advances in British politics all arose from various forms of Lab-Lib co-operation. That was true of Labour's 1906 entry to parliament; breaking the Lords veto in the hung parliament of 1911; Attlee enshrining the Keynes-Beveridge settlement; the social legislation of the 1960s; and early New Labour's constitutional legacy.

 

A fair share of freedom

Outside these sporadic pluralist flurries, the right has mostly dominated. David Marquand's central thesis in The Progressive Dilemma was that Labour was necessary, but no longer sufficient, for progressive advance. If the 1997 and 2001 landslides seemed to disprove this as a matter of electoral arithmetic, the theory looks stronger than ever if we seek a transformative politics.

Pluralism should recognise differences. Different parties on the left of centre have different traditions, identities and instincts. They have much to argue over -- yet these arguments sharpen central challenges.

How can markets be sustainable and fair? We need to restore Labour's instinct for civil liberties, without lapsing into an allergy to state action in breaking down class-based disadvantage. The central political challenge is how to sustain majority public coalitions to be able to narrow inequalities, address climate change and sustain Britain's place in Europe.

Perhaps the defining argument between left and right is whether equality and liberty can be allied, or are always in fundamental tension. The quest that has animated thinkers from Tawney to Amartya Sen -- how to secure the fairest possible distribution of substantive freedom -- should provide a foundation stone for a plural left.

None of this can be achieved by one party alone, nor could any party easily wish the others away. But we must create a more pluralist Labour Party, able to play a leading part, for it to have much chance of happening at all.

Sunder Katwala is general secretary of the Fabian Society

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Sunder Katwala is director of British Future and former general secretary of the Fabian Society.

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With the BBC Food’s collection under threat, here's how to make the most of online recipes

Do a bit of digging, trust your instincts – and always read the comments.

I don’t think John Humphrys is much of a chef. Recently, as his Today co-presenter Mishal Husain was discussing the implications of the BBC’s decision to axe its Food website (since commuted to transportation to the Good Food platform, run by its commercial arm), sharp-eared listeners heard the Humph claim that fewer recipes on the web could only be a good thing. “It would make it easier!” he bellowed in the background. “We wouldn’t have to choose between so many!”

Husain also seemed puzzled as to why anyone would need more than one recipe for spaghetti bolognese – but, as any keen cook knows, you can never have too many different takes on a dish. Just as you wouldn’t want to get all your news from a single source, it would be a sad thing to eat the same bolognese for the rest of your life. Sometimes only a molto autentico version, as laid down by a fierce Italian donna, rich with tradition and chopped liver, will do – and sometimes, though you would never admit it in a national magazine, you crave the comfort of your mum’s spag bol with grated cheddar.

The world wouldn’t starve without BBC Food’s collection but, given that an online search for “spaghetti bolognese recipe” turns up about a million results, it would have been sad to have lost one of the internet’s more trustworthy sources of information. As someone who spends a large part of each week researching and testing recipes, I can assure you that genuinely reliable ones are rarer than decent chips after closing time. But although it is certainly the only place you’ll find the Most Haunted host Yvette Fielding’s kedgeree alongside Heston Blumenthal’s snail porridge, the BBC website is not the only one that is worth your time.

The good thing about newspaper, magazine and other commercial platforms is that most still have just enough budget to ensure that their recipes will have been made at least twice – once by the writer and once for the accompanying photographs – though sadly the days when everyone employed an independent recipe tester are long gone. Such sites also often have sufficient traffic to generate a useful volume of comments. I never make a recipe without scrolling down to see what other people have said about it. Get past the “Can’t wait to make this!” brigade; ignore the annoying people who swap baked beans for lentils and then complain, “This is nothing like dhal”; and there’s usually some sensible advice in there, too.

But what about when you leave the safety of the big boys and venture into the no man’s land of the personal blog? How do you separate the wheat from the chaff and find a recipe that actually works? You can often tell how much work a writer has put in by the level of detail they go into: if they have indicated how many people it serves, or where to find unusual ingredients, suggested possible tweaks and credited their original sources, they have probably made the dish more than once. The photography is another handy clue. You don’t have to be Annie Leibovitz to provide a good idea of what the finished dish ought to look like.

Do a bit of digging as part of your prep. If you like the look of the rest of the site, the author’s tastes will probably chime with your own. And always, always, wherever the recipe is from, read it all the way through, even before you order the shopping. There is nothing more annoying than getting halfway through and then realising that you need a hand blender to finish the dish, just as the first guest arrives.

Above all, trust your instincts. If the cooking time seems far too short, or the salt content ridiculously high, it probably is, so keep an eye on that oven, check that casserole, keep tasting that sauce. As someone who once published a magic mince pie recipe without any sugar, I’m living proof that, occasionally, even the very best of us make mistakes. 

Felicity Cloake is the New Statesman’s food columnist. Her latest book is The A-Z of Eating: a Flavour Map for Adventurous Cooks.

This article first appeared in the 26 May 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The Brexit odd squad