How to build the good society

A "good society" can only be achieved if there is an acceptance of the need to tame capitalism.

These are painful times. The huge financial crisis of 2008 shook the world economy but it is ordinary people who are paying the price. Across Europe working people's living standards are stagnant. Unemployment is rising. In Greece, Ireland and Portugal huge cuts in public-sector pay and services are imposed by the European Central Bank and International Monetary Fund. Yet, the architects of the crisis -- the banks, hedge funds, credit rating agencies -- emerge scot-free, able to carry on their activities and pick up their bonuses regardless.

Politically, it has been the right which has benefited from the insecurity which the crisis has generated. Following recent victories in the UK, Sweden, Hungary and Portugal, today the left remains in office in just five EU countries. Even more alarmingly, it is not just orthodox Christian-democratic parties which are gaining ground but new racist, nationalistic and xenophobic parties, as in Finland, Sweden, Holland and Hungary. These parties are now making inroads into government or shifting the mainstream right on to their ground.

This is a dangerous moment for the left and all concerned with the principles of justice, democracy and racial equality. That is why we think the long article just published by Compass entitled "Building The Good Society: A New Form of Progressive Politics" is important. It analyses how we reached where we are and how to break out of the impasse. The argument is based on several overarching themes.

First, it is guided by a belief in the goal of a "good society", where each individual can aspire to fulfil their potential and where manual labour is valued as much as mental labour. Our thinking is informed by the marriage of the ideals of liberty, equality and solidarity but fused with a 21st-century concern for the environment and the legacy we leave to future generations. Furthermore, it is a philosophy which sees politics as the way to fight for and guarantee the security and therefore the freedom of each and every citizen.

This thinking is in sharp contrast to the philosophy of the current government. Here we see "Thatcherism with a public school face", a government which believes that competition is the only value. This is a government which is using the financial crisis as the lever for a concerted drive to establish not just a market economy but a market society. It wants to sell off forests and woodlands. It makes entrance to universities dependent not on academic ability but on the ability to pay. It strives to open up the NHS and indeed all public services to any private provider. In a phrase, this is a government that wants to create a world fit for Southern Cross to thrive in.

Secondly, we argue that a "good society" can only be achieved if there is an acceptance of the need to tame capitalism and strictly regulate it. The financial crisis has exposed the fatal flaws of 'New' Labour's love affair with globalisation and the City of London. Blairites have been most reluctant to acknowledge that they got the economics of modern capitalism wrong. Patrick Diamond (Guardian 6 June 2011) has been the first to acknowledge this and to argue, as we do, that social democracy has to give voice to people's anger with City recklessness and show that there are alternatives.

Thirdly, citizenship is not just about voting once every few years but a sustained engagement in all walks of life. This paper argues strongly for the importance of citizen participation but emphasises that a strong civil society emerges and goes hand in hand with a strong state.

Fourthly, the whole spirit of this paper is avowedly pluralist. Some diehard Labour MPs may cling to their tribalist traditions but "Ourselves alone", the old politics of monolithic parties, has had its day. A good society will be constructed from many alliances and interests as well as the continuing importance of class. For Labour that means working with a wide range of popular movements, pressures groups and trade unions, as well as with other parties on the progressive wing of politics.,

Flowing from these key themes we present individual policy suggestions in a number of areas. They are symbolic of the transformational policies we need to build a good society.

The world need not be like this. There is an alternative to the 1930s-style deflation on offer from George Osborne and the European Central Bank and to the nasty, narrow-minded nationalism of the racist and xenophobic right. A progressive alliance can galvanise public anger and tap into human optimism about the potential for a better future. This paper sets out a route map for that progressive alliance to engender a 'good society'.

New Statesman is sponsoring this Saturday's annual Compass conference Building the Good Society - details at http://compassonline.org.uk/conference/

Robin Wilson is a former magazine editor and think tank director and currently independent researcher based in Belfast.

Jon Bloomfield is currently an honorary research fellow at Birmingham University specializing in European issues.

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One Day Without Us reveals the spectre of Britain without immigration

Imagine a country without its NHS workers, its artists and even its consumers. That's why immigrants are striking today. 

What’s the best way of making yourself heard in politics? Protesting in the street, or contacting the media? Writing to politicians? A badge?

One option, of course, is to walk out - and give people a chance to recognise what they’d be missing if you weren’t there. In the labour movement, that’s long been an option – a last-case option, but an option nevertheless – when your contribution isn't being recognised.

A strike is a tit-for-tat negotiation and a warning shot. “I’ll work properly when you employ me properly”, it says, but simultaneously: “Here’s what you’d lose if I stopped”. Done right, the worker’s absence can shift the power balance in their favour.

Normally, people strike according to their role, in pursuit of certain conditions – the tube strikes, or last year’s teacher's strike.

Yet there is also a long and rich history of walk-outs whose terms are broader and boundaries hazier. One of the most famous is surely the 1975 Women's Strike, in Iceland, during which 90 per cent of the country's women refused to participate in either paid or unpaid work.

In 2016, the formula was repeated in Poland, where women went on strike to protest against a draconian change being proposed to the country's already-strict abortion laws. (It worked.)

Immigrant strikes, too, have a history. In 2006, for instance, a coalition of Los Angeles Catholic groups, unions and immigration reform groups proposed a boycott in opposition to a bill which, among other things, called for new border security fences to be built between America and Mexico. (Ahem.)

The action grew to become a national event, and on May 1, the “Great American Boycott” took place, with immigrants from Latin America and elsewhere leaving work, skipping school and refusing to buy or sell goods.

Now, with Donald Trump in the White House and Brexit looming, some have decided it’s time for another strike. Enter “One Day Without Us”.

Today, immigrants here in Britain will strike not for pay conditions or holiday allowances, but for basic recognition and respect. Across the country, businesses will close and immigrants will leave work, many of them to take place in alternative actions like rallies or letter-writing campaigns.

The name of the protest pulls no punches. This, it says, is what it would be like if we all went away. (Subtext: “like some of you want”.)

Because – and let’s be honest here – it’d be bad. In hospital this summer, I was treated by migrants. After 24 hours in NHS, I took a count, and found that only about one in five of the staff who had treated me were identifiably English. Around 4.6 per cent of NHS staff nationally are from the EU, including 9 per cent of doctors. Immigrants clean buildings, make our food, and provide a whole host of other vital services.

One Day Without Us, then, could do Britain a huge favour - it provides us with a quick preview function before anyone ups and leaves for good, taking the heart of our health service, or our food supplies, with them.

In recognition of this, some businesses are actively giving their workers the day off. One 36-year-old owner of a support services company, for instance, is giving her staff a paid holiday.

“Not all my colleagues are taking up the offer not to come in”, she explained. “Some, both British and foreign-born, would prefer to work. That’s fine, I wanted to give colleagues the freedom to choose.

 “It will cause some inconvenience and I’ve had to explain to clients why we aren’t offering all our services for one day, but I feel doing this is the only way to show how much this country relies on migrants. I may be a businesswoman, but I’m a human being first, and it hurts my heart to see how foreign-born colleagues are being treated by some people in the current political climate."

The woman, whose staff is 65 per cent foreign born, has asked her company not to be identified. She’s heard her staff being abused for speaking Polish.

Of course, not everyone is able to walk out of work. I write this from Chicago, Illinois, where last week activists participated in an American predecessor to One Day Without Us called “Day Without Immigrants”. Type “Day Without Immigrants" into Google followed by the word "Chicago" and you will find reports of restaurants closing down and citizens marching together through the city.

But search for just "Day Without Immigrants", and the top stories are all about participants being fired.

One Day Without Us, then, encourages any form of engagement. From human chains to sessions during which participants can write to their MP, these events allow immigrants, and supporters, to make themselves known across the country.

Businesses and museums, too, are involved. The Tate, for instance, is offering free tours showing visitors artworks created or influenced by migrants, showing Londoners which of the paintings that they’ve seen a dozen times only exist because of immigration.

Because paintings, like people, come from everywhere, whether or not you remember. Britain is a mongrel country, and so its art and culture are as mongrel as its workforce: a persistent thread through the country’s history.

We risk a lot forgetting this. At its best, assimilation provides a way of integrating without forgetting one’s own unique identity. In a world where immigrants risk threats or violence, however, invisibility can be the best option. For some, it is better not to be recognized as an immigrant than be abused as one.

Those of us who don’t risk threats have a duty to recognise this. I dislike the glibness of “we are all migrants” – maybe, technically, but we’re not all getting slurs shouted at us in the high street, are we? Still, I also don’t like anyone forgetting the fact that their existence, in all probably, is contingent on someone once being given clemency in a place that was their own. The movement of people is woven into the fabric of society.

Of course, it is impossible to say how successful One Day Without Us will be, or how many people’s lives will be directly affected. But I hope that, even as a gesture, it works: that people think of what would be missing from their lives without immigration.

We ignore it at our peril.

You can view all the One Day Without Us events on the organisers’ website, or contribute to a fund to support businesses which are closing for the day here.

Stephanie Boland is digital assistant at the New Statesman. She tweets at @stephanieboland