What's so bad about a Blue Peter economy anyway?

If Cameron was referring to an economy that takes apart the assumptions and bad habits which led to the problems of the past, that might be seen as a sign of progress.

I wasn't a huge fan of any of the leaders' speeches this year. Miliband attempted grand and defining statements with all the vigour of a schoolboy revolutionary. In response, Cameron seemed to deliberately take a more restrained tone – the result being one part 'statesman', two parts 'grandad'.

But, speechcraft and delivery aside, the real issue was that the speeches pandered to the same old partisan debates: "Red Ed" vs. economic stoicism, public spending vs. public taxes, hard workers vs. other hard workers. In their predictableness, neither caused much of a stir beyond the dwindling numbers of party members present.

As usual, the most innovative debates were on the fringe. One of the most vibrant discussions took the form of the social economy alliance, a movement of entrepreneurs, activists, investors and campaigners. While such a consortium might sound like the material for a bad joke, the effect was that the re-hashed divisive policy debates were cast aside in favour of fresh approaches to the social and economic problems that have been found to be the most pressing of our generation. From energy to public spending, banking to local services, the discussions highlighted the successes of these high-growth, profitable and investment-ready enterprises that work not only in the interests of society (which any job-generating business purports to do), but for tangible social impact. Together they form economic solutions that are genuinely different to the tedious left-right refrains.

Rather than being devoid of tradition and ideology, however, I would argue that the growing social economy movement draws on proud heritage from across the political spectrum, from principles of economic subsidiarity to the lessons from the 1980s venture capital market, the Rochdale pioneers to pre-enlightenment virtue ethics and gift exchange. Again, a counter-intuitive combination, but at a time when trust in the ‘business as usual’ models has hit rock bottom, these ideas are at the very least a curious alternative.

It is clear the old models aren’t working, so what is wrong with crafting new models and new structures? This is why I failed to appreciate Cameron’s point in deriding a "Blue Peter economy". Is it even an insult? If it is an economy which takes apart the assumptions and bad habits which led to the problems of the past, then I don't see anything wrong with that. Perhaps a Blue Peter metaphor would do better to highlight a high trust base, creativity and pursuit of fulfilment, or the values that inspire young people to be active citizens?

The social economy has the potential not only to capture but to realise these ideals, and whilst it is increasingly recognised by and inspiring a generation of young people (university graduates in particular), the parties are missing a trick by not talking about it.  Because living standards are not something passively received by people. The Reaganite tack of comparing people's circumstances to how they were five years ago is fundamentally flawed in that, when asked to consider their living standards, it the personal things which people remember: achievement and loss and grief and celebration, on a local scale which factors in social networks and relationships, not what the state does or doesn't do. And for the right, ambition and opportunity is not just about tax cuts, it is also about personal opportunities and the opportunities to change your lived experiences from one day to the next. Profit is good, but only if that profit makes a social and economic difference on a local, tangible level. This is a leader’s speech-in-waiting.

In terms of the agenda for social economy movement itself, there is still a lot to be done to achieve coherence and public recognition. Ed Miliband had it right in practice but not in principle when he produced clearly packaged retail offers for the 2015 election that describe the added value for people as consumers. This is what this movement should be working towards, and the party that capitalises on this potential for fresh and genuine approaches is one that will find themselves having struck electoral gold.

Caroline Macfarland is the founder of CoVi (Common Vision), a new visual think tank which uses film and interactive media to produce innovative, shareable ideas about politics, economics and society

David Cameron delivers his speech at the Conservative conference in Manchester earlier this week. Photograph: Getty Images.

Caroline Macfarland is manging director of ResPublica

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What I learnt when my wife and I went to Brexit: the Musical

This week in the media, from laughing as the world order crumbles to what Tristram Hunt got wrong – and Leicester’s big fall.

As my wife and I watched Brexit: the Musical, performed in a tiny theatre above a pub in London’s Little Venice, I thought of the American novelist Lionel Shriver’s comment on Donald Trump’s inauguration: “A sense of humour is going to get us through better than indignation.” It is an entertaining, engaging and amusing show, which makes the point that none of the main actors in the Brexit drama – whether supporters of Leave or Remain – achieved quite what they had intended. The biggest laugh went to the actor playing Boris Johnson (James Sanderson), the wannabe Tory leader who blew his chance. The mere appearance of an overweight man of dishevelled appearance with a mop of blond hair is enough to have the audience rolling in the aisles.

The lesson we should take from Brexit and from Trump’s election is that politicians of all shades, including those who claim to be non-political insurgents, have zero control of events, whether we are talking about immigration, economic growth or the Middle East. We need to tweak Yeats’s lines: the best may lack all conviction but the worst are full not so much of passionate intensity – who knows what Trump or Johnson really believe? – as bumbling incompetence. The sun will still rise in the morning (as
Barack Obama observed when Trump’s win became evident), and multi­national capital will still rule the world. Meanwhile, we may as well enjoy the show.

 

Danger of Donald

Nevertheless, we shouldn’t deny the risks of having incompetents in charge. The biggest concerns Trump’s geopolitical strategy, or rather his lack of one. Great power relations since 1945 have been based on mutual understanding of what each country wants to achieve, of its red lines and national ambitions. The scariest moments come when one leader miscalculates how another will react. Of all figures in recent history, the Soviet leader Nikita Khrushchev, with his flamboyant manner and erratic temperament, was probably the most similar to Trump. In 1962, he thought President Kennedy, inexperienced and idealistic, would tolerate Soviet missiles in Cuba. He was wrong and the world only narrowly avoided nuclear war.

How would Trump respond to a Russian invasion of the Baltic states? Will he recognise Taiwan as an independent country? Will he scrap Obama’s deal with Iran and support a pre-emptive strike against its nuclear ambitions? Nobody knows, probably not even Trump. He seems to think that keeping your options open and your adversaries guessing leads to “great deals”. That may work in business, in which the worst that can happen is that one of your companies goes bankrupt – an outcome of which Americans take a relaxed view. In international relations, the stakes are higher.

 

Right job, wrong time

I rather like Tristram Hunt, who started contributing to the New Statesman during my editorship. He may be the son of a life peer and a protégé of Peter Mandelson, but he is an all-too-rare example of a politician with a hinterland, having written a biography of Engels and a study of the English Civil War and presented successful TV documentaries. In a parallel universe, he could have made an inspirational Labour leader,
a more thoughtful and trustworthy version of Tony Blair.

No doubt, having resigned his Stoke-on-Trent Central seat, he will make a success of his new job as director of the Victoria and Albert Museum. If nothing else, he will learn a little about the arts of management and leadership. But isn’t this the wrong way round? Wouldn’t it be better if people first ran museums or other cultural and public institutions and then carried such experience into parliament and government?

 

Pointless palace

When the Palace of Westminster was largely destroyed by fire in 1834, thousands gathered to enjoy the spectacle. Thomas Carlyle noted that the crowd “whew’d and whistled when the breeze came as if to encourage it” and that “a man sorry I did not anywhere see”.

Now, with MPs reportedly refusing to move out to allow vital renovation work from 2023, we can expect a repeat performance. Given the unpopularity of politicians, public enthusiasm may be even greater than it was two centuries ago. Yet what is going through MPs’ minds is anyone’s guess. Since Theresa May refuses them a vote on Brexit, prefers the Foreign Office’s Lancaster House as the location to deliver her most important speech to date and intends to amend or replace Brussels-originated laws with ministerial orders under “Henry VIII powers”, perhaps they have concluded that there’s no longer much point to the place.

 

As good as it gets

What a difference a year makes. In January 2016, supporters of Leicester City, my home-town team, were beginning to contemplate the unthinkable: that they could win football’s Premier League. Now, five places off the bottom, they contemplate the equally unthinkable idea of relegation.

With the exception of one player, N’Golo Kanté (now at Chelsea), the team is identical to last season’s. So how can this be? The sophisticated, mathematical answer is “regression to the mean”. In a league where money, wages and performance are usually linked rigidly, a team that does much better than you’d predict one season is likely to do much worse the next. I’d suggest something else, though. For those who won last season’s title against such overwhelming odds, life can never be as good again. Anything short of winning the Champions League (in which Leicester have so far flourished) would seem an anti­climax. In the same way, the England cricket team that won the Ashes in 2005 – after the Australians had dominated for 16 years – fell apart almost as soon as its Trafalgar Square parade was over. Beating other international teams wouldn’t have delivered the same adrenalin surge.

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 19 January 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The Trump era