Fourth time lucky for David Cameron’s “big society”?

The Prime Minister relaunches his flagship policy yet again – but does not offer anything new to rev

David Cameron is set to relaunch his flagship "big society" idea yet again today, reiterating the message that his government has bigger goals than just cutting the deficit.

For months, many in his cabinet have felt that the idea – which has repeatedly failed to catch on with the public – should be quietly dropped. At the weekend, Francis Maude, the Cabinet Office minister who runs the project, became the latest member of government to admit that the idea has not been communicated well.

Speaking to Radio 4's The World This Weekend, he said: "We may have failed to articulate it clearly and we'll carry on explaining as best as we can. I think people understand what is meant when we explain it and think that it is all a good idea."

Indeed, the Big Society Commission found that 78 per cent of UK adults are confused about what the phrase means.

Today, Cameron will say that "the big society is not some fluffy add-on to more gritty and important subjects". But does this latest incarnation offer anything new, or does it repeat the same mistakes?

Let's remind ourselves of the three previous launches and relaunches of what some ministers uncharitably refer to as "BS".

1. 13 April 2010

The idea was first set out at the launch of the Tory manifesto, which boiled down Cameron's pitch for power to a choice between Labour's "big government" and the Conservative "big society", which would allow people to live their everyday lives free of state control.

It is worth nothing that this is a false dichotomy, as 40 per cent of the £35bn voluntary sector receives state support.

2. 19 July 2010

As we know, the "big society" failed to catch the public's imagination. But Cameron was undeterred. After forming a government, he relaunched the idea (though Downing Street denied it was a relaunch at all) in terms remarkably similar to those of today's speech. He said then, as now, that although reducing the deficit was his "duty", giving more control to individuals and communities was his "passion" and underpinned his whole philosophy.

Cameron declared in July: "There are the things you do because it's your passion. Things that fire you up in the morning, that drive you, that you truly believe will make a real difference to the country you love, and my great passion is building the big society."

This diction is echoed directly in today's speech: "It holds the key to transforming our economy, our society, our country's future, and that's why I will keep on championing it and keep on building it every day that I lead this country. These are the things I'm most passionate about in public life. This is what is in my heart. It's what fires me up in the morning."

3. 13 February 2011

Just a few months ago, Cameron relaunched the idea for a third time in a speech in London stressing that he was "100 per cent committed" to the project. He also said that the "big society" has a "moral" purpose that runs through the entire government – from education to NHS reform.

Once again he said that – you guessed it – the "big society" is what he is "really passionate about" (and that cutting the deficit is his "duty").


It is clear that Cameron does care about the project (he also used his speech at the Conservative party conference in October to plead for support). But this much we already knew. We also know that the Prime Minister's passion is not enough.

The latest relaunch attempts to address the criticism that the idea of the "big society" is too vague by including some concrete measures – but these (allowing charitable giving from cash machines, and one day a year of volunteering by ministers) are not particularly inspiring.

A ComRes/Independent on Sunday poll in February showed that 41 per cent of the public thought the "big society" was a cover for spending cuts. The close concordance between this speech and past launches and relaunches shows that the latest intervention probably will do nothing to reverse this perception and save the project from failure.

Samira Shackle is a freelance journalist, who tweets @samirashackle. She was formerly a staff writer for the New Statesman.

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How “cli-fi” novels humanise the science of climate change

The paradox is that the harder climate-fiction novels try, the less effective they are.

When the Paris UN Climate Change Conference begins at the end of November, the world’s leaders will review the climate framework agreed in Rio in 1992. For well over 20 years, the world has not just been thinking and talking about climate change, it has also been writing and reading about it, in blogs, newspapers, magazines – and in novels.

Climate change fiction is now a recognisable literary phenomenon replete with its own nickname: “cli-fi”. The term was coined in 2007 by Taiwan-based blogger Dan Bloom. Since then, its use has spread: it was even tweeted by Margaret Atwood in 2013:

It is not a genre in the accepted scholarly sense, since it lacks the plot formulas or stylistic conventions that tend to define genres (such as science fiction or the western). However, it does name a remarkable recent literary and publishing trend.

A 21st-century phenomenon?

Putting a number to this phenomenon depends, partly, on how one defines cli-fi. How much of a novel has to be devoted to climate change before it is considered cli-fi? Should we restrict the term to novels about man-made global warming? (If we don’t, we should remember that narratives about global climatic change are as old as The Epic of Gilgamesh and the Biblical story of the flood.) If we define cli-fi as fictional treatments of climate change caused by human activity in terms of setting, theme or plot – and accept there will be grey areas in the extent of this treatment – a conservative estimate would put the all-time number of cli-fi novels at 150 and growing. This is the figure put forward by Adam Trexler, who has worked with me to survey the development of cli-fi.

This definition also gives us a start date for cli-fi’s history. While planetary climatic change occurs in much 20th-century science fiction, it is only after growing scientific awareness of specifically man-made, carbon-induced climate change in the 1960s and 1970s that novels on this subject emerged. The first is Arthur Herzog’s Heat in 1976, followed by George Turner’s The Sun and the Summer (published in the US as Drowning Towers) in 1987.

At the turn of this century, Maggie Gee and TC Boyle were among the first mainstream authors to publish climate change novels. In this century, we can count Atwood, Michael Crichton, Barbara Kingsolver, Ian McEwan, Kim Stanley Robinson, Ilija Trojanow and Jeanette Winterson as major authors who have written about climate change. The past five years have given us notable examples of cli-fi by emerging authors, such as Steven Amsterdam, Edan Lepucki, Jane Rawson, Nathaniel Rich and Antti Tuomainen.

Creative challenges

Cli-fi is all the more noteworthy considering the creative challenge posed by climate change. First, there is the problem of scale – spatial and temporal. Climate change affects the entire planet and all its species – and concerns the end of this planet as we know it. Novels, by contrast, conventionally concern the actions of individual protagonists and/or, sometimes, small communities.

Added to this is the networked nature of climate change: in physical terms, the climate is a large, complex system whose effects are difficult to model. In socio-cultural terms, solutions require intergovernmental agreement – just what COP21 intends – and various top-down and bottom-up transformations. Finally, there exists the difficulty of translating scientific information, with all its predictive uncertainty, into something both accurate and interesting to the average reader.

Still, cli-fi writers have adopted a range of strategies to engage their readers. Many cli-fi novels could be classified as dystopian, post-apocalyptic or, indeed, both – depicting nightmarish societies triggered by sometimes catastrophic climate events. A future world is one effective way of narrating the planetary condition of climate change.

Some novelists are also careful to underpin their scenarios with rigorous climatic predictions and, in this way, translate science fact into a fictional setting. Kingsolver, who trained as an ecologist, is the best example of this – and Atwood and Robinson are also known for their attempts at making their speculations scientifically plausible. Also, cli-fi novels, particularly those set in the present day or very near future rather than in a dystopian future, tend to show the political or psychological dimensions of living with climate change. Readers can identify with protagonists. To some extent, the global community is represented in fictional everymen or everywomen. Or, often, it is through such characters that science is humanised and its role in combating climate change better understood.

Can cli-fi lead to change?

Could cli-fi affect how we think and act on climate change? The paradox is that the harder cli-fi tries, the less effective it is. Many writers want to inspire change, not insist on it: the line between literature and propaganda is one that most novelists respect. Literature invites us to inhabit other worlds and live other lives. Cli-fi at its best lets us travel to climate-changed worlds, to strive there alongside others and then to return armed with that experience.

In Paris, the UN will seek a global agreement on climate action for the first time in more than 20 years. There is plenty of climate change fiction out there to help provide the mental and psychological space to consider that action.

The Conversation

Adeline Johns-Putra, Reader in English Literature, University of Surrey

This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.