Labour's next big idea: the "relational state"

Recognising the importance of human relationships could revolutionise public services.

Sparked by the financial crisis and subsequent recession, the Labour Party has been engaged in a serious debate about the core tenets of its economic policy. And there is little doubt that Ed Miliband has started to carve out a distinctive position on "responsible capitalism". However, there has so far been much less discussion about Labour’s approach to public services. If the party wins the next general election it will assume responsibility for a state both substantially reformed from the one it left in 2010 and under unprecedented financial pressure.

There is much of which Labour can be proud from its recent period in office: NHS waiting times, crime rates and school failure all tumbled. However, there was collateral damage from achieving these results, requiring a re-assessment of the party's dominant approach to running the state. The desire to demonstrate "delivery" led to a vast increase in command and control management techniques, which, while sometimes necessary to deal with appalling performance, tend to alienate the workforce and crowd out space for responsiveness and experimentation.

The correct instinct to give citizens power over public services narrowed to a choice between providers, neglecting the many ways in which people might shape the services they use. And the case for institutional pluralism and diversity beyond the public sector was often reduced to a fight about competition. Elsewhere, the drive for high standards of "customer service" was inattentive to the role of public services in enabling people to forge relationships with each other and a sense of common life. And finally, the fear that any variation or contingency in service provision would produce unacceptable inequalities drove a bias towards centralisation and standardisation that sapped professional creativity and local mobilisation.

These lessons don’t mean abandoning everything Labour did in government, less still failing to defend the real strengths of its record. But they should prompt hard thinking about how Labour would govern in the future, not least because major challenges – from chronic health conditions, to anti-social behaviour and educational excellence – cannot be addressed by the state delivering solutions onto an unsuspecting public.

In an IPPR publication out today, we argue that combining the best instincts of "New Labour" and "Blue Labour" offers the outlines of a fresh approach to improving public services and governing the state. Like New Labour this should be firmly anchored on the side of the citizen, in favour of non-state provision where appropriate, and intolerant of poor standards. And like Blue Labour it should care about institution building, guard against bureaucracy, and focus on how services are run, not just what they achieve.

So what might that mean in practice?

Given the major fiscal pressures it would face, the first task for an incoming Labour government would be to set strategic priorities. We would put childcare and social care high on that list, but the party should find ways to involve the public honestly and directly in the trade-offs and choices facing the country. It might convene a delib­erative citizen’s convention to provide advice and input to politicians ahead of the next Spending Review.

Beyond this, Labour should set a small number of core goals and citizen entitlements in the main public services, leaving more space to innovate. In education, for example, the focus could be on a national attainment "floor target" for schools and an entitlement to catch-up support for pupils at risk of falling behind. In health, it could be waiting times and a right to GP access. But there can’t be a hundred "priorities".

In the end, public services are only as good as the people working in them. In the past, Labour used extra spending to oil the wheels of reform. With less cash around, a grand bargain is needed that frees professionals from a excessive compliance culture, draws them into shaping and governing services and challenges them to stand up to bad practice.

Rather than a tired debate of public versus private, the focus should be on a supply-side revolution led by a new wave of autonomous providers. Self-governing institutions, bounded from the over-reach of both bureaucracy and profit, are most likely to foster strong relationships and service innovation. For instance, while the focus is on the funding challenge, social care services are crying out for greater humanity and innovation, with new forms of mutual and cooperative provision in the lead.

A more relational state also requires the mobilisation of local leadership and initiative. So Labour should decide on those things which must be done nationally and decentralise power elsewhere – starting with our major cities. They could be put in charge of Housing Benefit and housing capital expenditure, with a remit to use those resources to make housing more affordable in their area.

Decentralisation needn’t stop at the town hall though. Citizens should be given meaningful power over services. This can be focused on both individuals (such as those with long term health conditions managing budgets and care planning) and groups (such as parents associations having a say on the governance and priorities of children’s centres).

Finally, the drive for strategic priorities, institutional independence, professional autonomy and local control must be matched by strong forms of accountability, which extend beyond just targets and markets. In education, this could mean all schools having academy-style freedoms to innovate, balanced by democratically accountable local school commissioners. Similarly, it could mean reducing the amount of statutory guidance for teachers, matched by longer and tougher probation periods so that poor performers are removed.

The political viability of pivoting towards a more relational state rests on the basic question of whether voters want a government that tries to solve their problems for them, or one which gives them power over their lives. Does the public want outcomes delivered for them or space to foster the relationships that matter?

In the past, politicians have tended to go into election campaigns promising better schools or more nurses. That might not work anymore, especially when the money to pay for such promises has dried up. But if such pledges are abandoned, what comes in their place?

These electoral dilemmas are not the place to start thinking about how the next Labour government might run the state, but they are among the places where this debate will have to end up.

Graeme Cooke and Rick Muir work for the IPPR but write here in a personal capacity.

Labour Party leader Ed Miliband addresses workers at Islington Town Hall on 5 November in London. Photograph: Getty Images.

Graeme Cooke is research director at IPPR

Rick Muir is associate director at IPPR

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Who "speaks for England" - and for that matter, what is "England"?

The Hollywood producer Sam Gold­wyn once demanded, “Let’s have some new clichés.” The Daily Mail, however, is always happiest with the old ones.

The Hollywood producer Sam Gold­wyn once demanded, “Let’s have some new clichés.” The Daily Mail, however, is always happiest with the old ones. It trotted out Leo Amery’s House of Commons call from September 1939, “Speak for England”, for the headline on a deranged leader that filled a picture-free front page on David Cameron’s “deal” to keep Britain in the EU.

Demands that somebody or other speak for England have followed thick and fast ever since Amery addressed his call to Labour’s Arthur Greenwood when Neville Chamberlain was still dithering over war with Hitler. Tory MPs shouted, “Speak for England!” when Michael Foot, the then Labour leader, rose in the Commons in 1982 after Argentina’s invasion of the Falklands. The Mail columnist Andrew Alexander called on Clare Short to “speak for England” over the Iraq War in 2003. “Can [Ed] Miliband speak for England?” Anthony Barnett asked in this very magazine in 2013. (Judging by the 2015 election result, one would say not.) “I speak for England,” claimed John Redwood last year. “Labour must speak for England,” countered Frank Field soon afterwards.

The Mail’s invocation of Amery was misconceived for two reasons. First, Amery wanted us to wage war in Europe in support of Hitler’s victims in Poland and elsewhere and in alliance with France, not to isolate ourselves from the continent. Second, “speak for England” in recent years has been used in support of “English votes for English laws”, following proposals for further devolution to Scotland. As the Mail was among the most adamant in demanding that Scots keep their noses out of English affairs, it’s a bit rich of it now to state “of course, by ‘England’. . . we mean the whole of the United Kingdom”.

 

EU immemorial

The Mail is also wrong in arguing that “we are at a crossroads in our island history”. The suggestion that the choice is between “submitting to a statist, unelected bureaucracy in Brussels” and reclaiming our ancient island liberties is pure nonsense. In the long run, withdrawing from the EU will make little difference. Levels of immigration will be determined, as they always have been, mainly by employers’ demands for labour and the difficulties of policing the borders of a country that has become a leading international transport hub. The terms on which we continue to trade with EU members will be determined largely by unelected bureaucrats in Brussels after discussions with unelected bureaucrats in London.

The British are bored by the EU and the interminable Westminster arguments. If voters support Brexit, it will probably be because they then expect to hear no more on the subject. They will be sadly mistaken. The withdrawal negotiations will take years, with the Farages and Duncan Smiths still foaming at the mouth, Cameron still claiming phoney victories and Angela Merkel, François Hollande and the dreaded Jean-Claude Juncker playing a bigger part in our lives than ever.

 

An empty cabinet

Meanwhile, one wonders what has become of Jeremy Corbyn or, indeed, the rest of the shadow cabinet. The Mail’s “speak for England” leader excoriated him for not mentioning “the Number One subject of the hour” at PM’s Questions but instead asking about a shortage of therapeutic radiographers in the NHS. In fact, the NHS’s problems – almost wholly caused by Tory “reforms” and spending cuts – would concern more people than does our future in the EU. But radiographers are hardly headline news, and Corbyn and his team seem unable to get anything into the nation’s “any other business”, never mind to the top of its agenda.

Public services deteriorate by the day, George Osborne’s fiscal plans look increasingly awry, and attempts to wring tax receipts out of big corporations appear hopelessly inadequate. Yet since Christmas I have hardly seen a shadow minister featured in the papers or spotted one on TV, except to say something about Trident, another subject that most voters don’t care about.

 

Incurable prose

According to the Guardian’s admirable but (let’s be honest) rather tedious series celeb­rating the NHS, a US health-care firm has advised investors that “privatisation of the UK marketplace . . . should create organic and de novo opportunities”. I have no idea what this means, though it sounds ominous. But I am quite certain I don’t want my local hospital or GP practice run by people who write prose like that.

 

Fashionable Foxes

My home-town football team, Leicester City, are normally so unfashionable that they’re not even fashionable in Leicester, where the smart set mostly watch the rugby union team Leicester Tigers. Even when they installed themselves near the top of the Premier League before Christmas, newspapers scarcely noticed them.

Now, with the Foxes five points clear at the top and 7-4 favourites for their first title, that mistake is corrected and the sports pages are running out of superlatives, a comparison with Barcelona being the most improbable. Even I, not a football enthusiast, have watched a few matches. If more football were played as Leicester play it – moving at speed towards their opponents’ goal rather than aimlessly weaving pretty patterns in midfield – I would watch the game more.

Nevertheless, I recall 1963, when Leicester headed the old First Division with five games to play. They picked up only one more point and finished fourth, nine points adrift of the league winners, Everton.

 

Gum unstuck

No, I don’t chew toothpaste to stop me smoking, as the last week’s column strangely suggested. I chew Nicorette gum, a reference written at some stage but somehow lost (probably by me) before it reached print.

Editor: The chief sub apologises for this mistake, which was hers

Peter Wilby was editor of the Independent on Sunday from 1995 to 1996 and of the New Statesman from 1998 to 2005. He writes the weekly First Thoughts column for the NS.

This article first appeared in the 11 February 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The legacy of Europe's worst battle