What Jon Cruddas's speech told us about Labour's policy review

The head of Labour's policy review hints that a mass programme of housebuilding will be a priority for the party.

Jon Cruddas's speech to the Resolution Foundation last night on "earning and belonging" was, in common with all of his addresses, thoughtful, intellectually rich and imbued with a rare sense of history. But anyone hoping for specifics from the head of Labour's policy review would have left disappointed. Cruddas described the review as being in its "first phase" and promised that over the next 12 months major pieces of work would be completed on "childhood, the Condition of Britain [Cruddas will deliver an IPPR lecture on this subject next Thursday], a British Investment Bank, infrastructure and voctional education". After the 2013 conference, he added, the review would enter a "second phase" before the policies "distil into a manifesto and pledge cards" after the 2014 conference.

There were, however, several important hints of Labour's priorities. In one of the most memorable passages, Cruddas lamented that while the government spends £1.2bn on housebuilding, it spends twenty times that amount on "rental payments to landlords". Not only was this a good example of how Labour is seeking to reframe the debate around welfare policy (Cruddas referred to "rent payments", rather than housing benefit), it also suggested that one of the party's key pledges will be a mass programme of housebuilding. 

In another intriguing section of the speech, Cruddas spoke of how Labour was exploring new ways of holding "our public institutions" to account and generating "a sense of ownership and responsibility". He cited the BBC, the police, Parliament and the City of London. Tessa Jowell's recent piece for the Telegraph calling for the BBC to be turned into "the country’s biggest mutual, with 26.8 million licence-fee payers as its shareholders", is a good example of the form this could take in practice. 

The line that has attracted the most attention is Cruddas's warning that "simply opposing the cuts without an alternative is no good." (He added: "It fails to offer reasonable hope. The stakes are high because when hope is not reasonable despair becomes real.") 

On one level this is a statement of the obvious. But it also points to a significant divide in Labour between those who believe there is nothing wrong with the economy that a bit of Keynesian stimulus won't fix and those who believe that capitalism needs to be fundamentally remade (Raf has neatly characterised this as a battle between Brown Labour and Blue). Cruddas's words made it clear that he intends to position Labour on the latter half of this divide. 

Jon Cruddas, the MP for Dagenham and Rainham and the head of Labour's policy review. Photograph: Getty Images.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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How to think about the EU result if you voted Remain

A belief in democracy means accepting the crowd is wiser than you are as an individual. 

I voted Remain, I feel sick about this result and its implications for what’s to come. But I’m a believer in democracy. This post is about how to reconcile those two things (it’s a bit unstructured because I’m working it out as I go, and I’m not sure I agree with all of it).

Democracy isn’t just fairer than other systems of governance, it’s smarter. It leads to better decisions and better outcomes, on average and over the long run, than countries that are run by autocrats or councils of wise men with jobs for life. It is simply the best way we have yet devised of solving complex problems involving many people. On that topic, if you’re not averse to some rather dense and technical prose, read this post or seek out this book. But the central argument is that democracy is the best way of harnessing ‘cognitive diversity’ — bringing to bear many different perspectives on a problem, each of which are very partial in themselves, but add up to something more than any one wise person.

I don’t think you can truly be a believer in democracy unless you accept that the people, collectively, are smarter than you are. That’s hard. It’s easy to say you believe in the popular will, right up until the popular will does something REALLY STUPID. The hard thing is not just to ‘accept the result’ but to accept that the majority who voted for that result know or understand something better than you. But they do. You are just one person, after all, and try as you might to expand your perspective with reading (and some try harder than others) you can’t see everything. So if a vote goes against you, you need to reflect on the possibility you got it wrong in some way. If I look at the results of past general elections and referendums, for instance, I now see they were all pretty much the right calls, including those where I voted the other way.

One way to think about the vote is that it has forced a slightly more equitable distribution of anxiety and alienation upon the country. After Thursday, I feel more insecure about my future, and that of my family. I also feel like a foreigner in my own country — that there’s this whole massive swathe of people out there who don’t think like me at all and probably don’t like me. I feel like a big decision about my life has been imposed on me by nameless people out there. But of course, this is exactly how many of those very people have been feeling for years, and at a much higher level of intensity. Democracy forces us to try on each other’s clothes. I could have carried on quite happily ignoring the unhappiness of much of the country but I can’t ignore this.

I’m seeing a lot of people on Twitter and in the press bemoaning how ill-informed people were, talking about a ‘post-factual democracy’. Well, maybe, though I think that requires further investigation - democracy has always been a dirty dishonest business. But surely the great thing about Thursday that so many people voted — including many, many people who might have felt disenfranchised from a system that hasn’t been serving them well. I’m not sure you’re truly a democrat if you don’t take at least a tiny bit of delight in seeing people so far from the centres of power tipping the polity upside down and giving it a shake. Would it have been better or worse for the country if Remain had won because only informed middle-class people voted? It might have felt better for people like me, it might actually have been better, economically, for everyone. But it would have indicated a deeper rot in our democracy than do the problems with our national information environment (which I accept are real).

I’m not quite saying ‘the people are always right’ — at least, I don’t think it was wrong to vote to stay in the EU. I still believe we should have Remained and I’m worried about what we’ve got ourselves into by getting out. But I am saying they may have been right to use this opportunity — the only one they were given — to send an unignorable signal to the powers-that-be that things aren’t working. You might say general elections are the place for that, but our particular system isn’t suited to change things on which there is a broad consensus between the two main parties.

Ian Leslie is a writer, author of CURIOUS: The Desire to Know and Why Your Future Depends On It, and writer/presenter of BBC R4's Before They Were Famous.