The Gracchus and Brexit and political murder

REPOST from June 2016 but more relevant than ever following the dragging of poor Jo Cox into the Brexit debate.

Some thoughts about the referendum as we move into the last few days.

It's a strange atmosphere - after months of getting pummelled, Leave had started to pull away from Remain. I watched as poll after poll starting giving the 'right' result, hardly believing what I was seeing, crossing my fingers so as not to jinx the result. And then a madman murderers a remain MP and - though the facts are hazy - seems to be right-wing nut. 

Let's just say straight off - and this isn't pro-forma bullshit - as a democrat and patriot - this act, like the murders in the recent past - Airy Neave, Ian Gow and Sir Anthony Berry - takes a little bit of our soul, our democracy. It steals something from all us. Like tribunes in Ancient Rome - elected to serve and counter-balance the patrician Senate - MP's work for and represent us and should be inviolate. Jo Cox seems to have been liked by all who met her. Additionally she leaves behind a husband, three children and many friends and constituents who will all now miss her. 

But, she was obscure and I think I probably disagree with most things she espoused. Terrible and tragic though her murder was, we have an important decision to make on Thursday. The affairs of a great nation shouldn't turn on emotionality, even in 2016. No amount of shroud waving and mawkish sentimentality can put this decision off, nor, if Jo was half the great democrat I'm sure she was - should we. 

Politics is passionate and better when, verbally, the gloves are off and arguments get aired and debated. I have no tolerance for 'safe spaces', for passive-aggressive diatribes against tone, subject matter or 'the science is settled' closing-down mechanisms. Fuck that. If Farage wants to talks about immigration let him. If Osborne and Cameron want to bull-shit about WW3 and financial armageddon, then be my guest. If Will Straw and the Remain campaign want to get in the dirt and use a dead woman to shut down their opponents arguments then, tasteless and base as they are, go for it but be prepared to be called out on it.

As ever, Rome provides many illustrative examples from the Gracchus Brothers, to the clashes between the generals of the later republic, the bread and circuses of the Julio-Claudians onwards, the lassitude of the third century, the grit of the Danubian Emperors, the re-invention under Diocletian and Constantine. It was often violent and not pretty. We've - hopefully - lost the murderous end-game, but, nutters aside, kept the passion

So calls for restraint and civilised debate should always be viewed with a sceptical eye. If not physical or murderous - and please don't debase this threshold - then argue away. Why curtail free-speech, should always be the question. Who benefits from shutting down debate? Who gets shut out? Arguments need to be tested on merit, not locked away. 

As I've quoted before, I think the most realistic song on politics is The Who's 'Won't Get Fooled Again'. Unlike most political songs it's written from the standpoint of the powerless, the little person observing that the heat of political battle is often just froth (for them). Things just have a habit of working out. 

I pick up my guitar and play // just like yesterday// and get on my knees and pray// We don't get fooled again // Meet the new boss // Same as the old boss

Anyway, the debate is screwed up currently. Hopefully, the good sense of the British people will see past the tragic murder of an MP - who was a mother and politics professional, who had dodgy views - and make a decision.

I almost wrote informed there. But informed is not where we're at. It's in the instinct, the gut; this is no technocratic X in a box. This is about YOU as a person.

I will return to this.

RIP Jo Cox

Tim

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Theresa May : In the Name of God, Go!

I remember the ineffective and slightly ridiculous John Major. I lived through the Brown years where a madman seemingly held the reigns of power. I even stretch back to remembering Ted Heath lose in 1974.

But with Theresa May we have reached an all time low with Prime Ministers in my lifetime.

Britain is a great country and at a time when we need a Churchill or a Thatcher instead we’ve got a weak, craven, humourless and incompetent robot at the helm. She has no backbone meaning the country is repeatedly humiliated by her weakness, her inability to stand up for Britain, her overwhelming need to get a deal, any deal, with the EU.

Where is our Trump? Our Thatcher? Even our own fucking Barnier? Someone with spirit?

Hated by Brexiteers for her useless surrender document that is the Withdrawal Treaty she is also despised by the swivel eyed Remainers for her slavish devotion to her ‘deal’ - a deal nobody wants.

Yes, we need a leader. Someone with vision. Someone who can take the country with them, inspire us through these changes.

And instead we’ve got the unlovely, Theresa May. Remainer. Useless representative of a dreadful political class, asleep at the wheel. Never has Cromwell’s admonishment been more apt :

“Ye sordid prostitutes have you not defil’d this sacred place, and turn’d the Lord’s temple into a den of thieves, by your immoral principles and wicked practices? Ye are grown intolerably odious to the whole nation; you were deputed here by the people to get grievances redress’d, are yourselves gone! So! Take away that shining bauble there, and lock up the doors. In the name of God, go!”

— Oliver Cromwell - April 20, 1653

Be Careful What You Wish For...

We should have left the EU today.

The largest and most peaceful democratic vote in British history has resulted in… well what, three years later?

This Hotel California Brexit (You can check out anytime but you can never leave) has now dragged on for so long it has allowed the anti democratic forces of superstate authoritarianism to rise again. They were pushed back briefly but the delay and obstruction has allowed them to slink out of the shadows.

As I’ve warned here before, if you thwart democracy, what is left? Democracy is not a natural state of affairs; history is replete with how humans used to settle their conflicts and none of it was pretty.

But self serving politicians, an incompetent Prime Minister and anti democrats everywhere have conspired to ignore the vote. “The electorate were misled. They didn’t know what they voted for. It was only advisory. It was close. The Russians swayed people’s minds. The electorate are thick. It was a protest vote. Leavers weren’t given a choice of HOW to leave. We should have another referendum now we know more.”

There’s a strain in - mainly left of centre thought - that increasingly cannot accept democratic losses. They are morally virtuous, their enemies are evil and so any ballot box loss is therefore illegitimate. We saw it in the reaction to Brexit, Trump and any ‘populist’ (aka popular, non establishment) win or surge.

But accepting you lost is a defining and necessary characteristic of a democracy. I hate losing but I accept you cannot have a peaceful country without it. Richard Nixon, when faced with evidence that JFK cheated in 1960, chose not contest the result as he knew it would tear society apart. That is Nixon story everyone who writes the narratives these days forgets. But it is the most instructive.

If democracy is denied then the result is violent chaos. To all those MPs who are actively trying to ignore a specific instruction from the country and to those outside who daily try to undermine the 2016 referendum, I say this: be careful what you wish for - human history shows that the line between a peaceful society and bloody war is a narrow one. Do not rush to cross it.

TIM ROBSON

(And I recognise that in our current climate only one opinion is allowed - in work, on social media. But I no longer care. I care more about democracy than I do about remaining silent. Today is bad day for Britain whether you support Remain or Leave.)

Razor Toothed Soul

So; what's on the agenda for September? Which bon mots am I gonna scatter out into the internet for y'all to gather, cherish, repeat? Is this gonna be a safe month ("Is it safe?") or is it gonna be a cruel, bareback ride into the darker recesses of my mind?

Actually - I veto'd a post I wrote last night called 'So Wrong, It's Right.' Whatever you're thinking RIGHT NOW - was probably referred to. And then some more. Your sister was probably involved. Olive oil. Celebrity couples. Luckily my internal editor eschews such sensationalist ramblings and blocks them from being posted. Until I'm pissed...

Well, obvs I gonna post 'The Dead Pubs of Clapham'. 

I think it's about time I raised my game and started waffling about history again. There's been a shortage of tortuous historical analogies around here. I know a post on Augustus was promised last month and escaped my non penetrating gaze. Yeah, well, fuck him. Everyone talks about Augustus. What about Aurelian? Septimius Severus? Diocletian? Julian? So, I'm going to be taking a face from the ancient gallery and dancing the scarlet maypoles.

(BTW - sat in a pretty empty Battersea Arts Centre Bar and yet everyone who is here comes and sits at an adjourning table. As I've mentioned previously, I can't turn it off. Even when working. Tempted to join in the conversation to my left about Jesus.)

Some high minded chat about the process of Brexit, perhaps? I'm a magnanimous winner as you have observed. Certainly not a mirror image of the losing side. However, some thoughts on this are probably overdue. 

An article on rock. As in RAWK!! A listette article on music I like, listen to, was influenced by. I've kind of ignored rock - mentioned the Zep, Who, Stones in passing. Well, that's gonna change.

Food. In the last few weeks I have cooked three great dishes. Really mind blowing. Tartiflette (with Reblochon cheese, of course.), Vietnamese beef salad, the most amazing Nachos with beef skirt and a deconstructed salsa verde. Yum!  I'm going to TESCO tonight for a Reblochon and I'm making a big mess of Tartiflette tonight. 

Some observational bollocks about September. School days. The ending of the year. Where did summer go? Avoid if you see this one coming down the tracks.

And I think it's about time I started addressing the dating issue. What dating issue, you ask? You're funny. Good looking. A catch. Well, thank you, that's all true but even despite all those things I find it hard to find a soul mate. Blind alleys. Back alleys. Love on the rocks. Ain't no surprise.

Neil Diamond. Top Five easily... Or Top Ten. Go on - list them now!

Beatles, Rolling Stones, The Who, Led Zeppelin/The Yardbirds, Simon and Garfunkel, The Smiths, The Stone Roses, Neil Diamond. And others. Elvis. 

Yeah, and loads of new stuff. The Pierces. Er, Taylor Swift. First Aid Kit. I am, of course, achingly on trend. Loving this season's razor toothed sole, moccasins and ballet shoes. All over that. Heels are so August 2016. 

September. The best seventh month in ninth place. Like ever!

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The Grasshopper and the Cow. A modern guide to dating.

“Because half a dozen grasshoppers under a fern make the field ring with their importunate chink, whilst thousands of great cattle, reposed beneath the shadow of the British oak, chew the cud and are silent, pray do not imagine that those who make the noise are the only inhabitants of the field.” *

One of the problems of dating in Brighton - if you hold what some might classify as right-wing views - is that your potential date will be, with a 90% level of certainty, a virtue-signalling leftie. You're stuck with a choice - to stay quiet and fail gracefully to get sex or to reveal your politics and be damn certain not to.

Saying you voted Brexit perhaps, or admire Nigel Farage, is literally like turning up to the wine bar dressed in full Gestapo uniform with a copy of The Final Solution in your top pocket. There again... The hard left these days seem to love a bit of anti-semitism. Can't get enough of it.

Saying you support low taxes, a small state, free trade and capitalism is usually - and disingenuously - met with hysterical guilt-by-association accusations. That's because, to a leftie, holding a few non leftie views means you must subscribe to a whole set of others too. So, I say, Brexit for democratic reasons, they say racist; I say low taxes and they say I want to burn the poor. Maybe piss on them first. 

Therefore, on a date, it's easier to take the cowardly, pragmatic approach. When your leftie date jabbers on about some social justice outrage de jour, just smile and take the conversation off at a tangent. Lefties generally - and especially in their natural environment within Brighton - tend not to meet people who disagree with them out loud.  Silence is taken as assent.  So she'll not spot the evasion but will take the change of subject as affirmation of her point of view - a point so obvious it should be, like, the law or something. The science is settled, the debate is over, the platform is not open, safe spaces are not going to be invaded. 

It's a bit like Facebook (of which I'm not longer a member). The busy grasshoppers chirp noisily  all over the timeline whilst the bovine Brexit / Tory supporting multitudes stay suspiciously quiet. Hence the outrage when these special snowflakes actually lose (see my article on 1992 election and the narcism of the self-righteous). They literally cannot comprehend it. Everyone agrees with them.

But - Edmund Burke fans - in looney-tunes Brighton, the fucking grasshoppers are in charge of the town and rigidly boss the poor cows about. 

Does that mean I'm a cow? Hell no, I'm a bull me. El torre! Just a rather quiet one.

So where does that leave the nominal right-winger (libertarian actually, thanks) in his quest to bed the leftie date? Well, about in the same position as with a right wing date. Or a liberal date. Or a date with woman of no political views.  

Politics, I've found, aren't actually the primary driver in the dating scene. Other, more corporeal attributes, claim that sovereignty.

It's possible I may return to this subject.

Tim

* A rather good, and prescient quote from Edmund Burke. Beware the mob!

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John Major and all that.

In June 1992, John Major - against the odds - won a Parliamentary majority in the UK General Election. He hadn't been predicted to win and Labour, under Neil Kinnock, looked like it was finally to take over the reins of power after thirteen long years. The Tories were tired and had killed off the great Matriarch, Margaret Thatcher. Me and everyone I knew, voted Labour. We had the momentum, we had all the celebrity endorsements. Our moment was now. How could we lose?

And then the results came through and the feeling of giddy anticipation turned to dread as one-by-one Labour candidates went down against their opponents. The pleasure at seeing Tory Chairman Chris Patten lose Bath was negated at the realisation that Major had a workable majority and that 13 long years would now be 18, at least.

Gosh! I wish social media had been around in those days! I would have spent the whole of the next day ranting on Facebook, posting links to articles that called into question the democratic verdict of my fellow citizens, how really Kinnock and Labour had won all the arguments and that only old and selfish people had kept them from government.

I went to work the next day full of righteous anger and fully expecting my colleagues to be similarly burning with the injustice of it all. No such luck. Most of my team at work had voted Tory. Older, wiser perhaps. I was shocked. They never talked politics in the office. They never disagreed with my leftie rants. And yet they still voted Tory!

Up until now, I didn't know anyone who voted Tory. And here I was surrounded by them. How had I not known (didn't they roast babies on fires to keep warm?) and how could they have been so stupid? Readers, I was shocked and angry. Selfish bastards. Stupid bastards, brainwashed by the Sun, The Mail, The Tory Media. Bitching about them later with my friends - who all voted Labour - we moaned 'why didn't they think for themselves'?

I was twenty four. I was also stupid.

I can relay this story now because, well, I'm older and perhaps have a little more perspective on life. I wouldn't call it wisdom because the first casualty of experience is, certainty. The old 'the more I know, the less I know' trope. The future is unknowable, unmade, events and inventions happen. What doesn't change however, is human nature.

Which is kind of a long intro into Thursday's vote... Interestingly enough, in 1992 I was editor of the staff magazine at a large multi national. Before the 92 election I penned an article (never published) on what I considered to be the biggest non-issue of the ballot - the EC, as then was, the EU now. My view was that all three main parties supported membership and that the issue wasn't discussed. I wanted to know who I could vote for to express my point of view.

And my point of view on the EU has been pretty consistent for about 30 years, ever since Jacques Delors came to TUC congress in 1988 and persuaded the left to support a supra-national, non democratic way of getting their domestic agenda imposed on Thatcher's Britain. I was appalled at the willingness of many 'progressives' to jettison their mistrust of a non-democratic, corporatist club in order to win some baubles (The Social Chapter). Denied the ability to introduce their policies in the UK due to the good sense of the British public, they decided to go over the public's head.

And at the time I supported the ends but not the means. For, I reasoned back then, what happens if this benign dictatorship does something I don't like? How do I change that? How do you veto it? How can you change the leadership? Of course now, 2016,  I support neither the ends nor the means. I'm a bit of a purist on this - Britain should decide its government and its policies for the good of Britain. If we don't like it, or the government make a mess of it, we can chuck them out. To me, the symbol of Britain's democracy has never been Big Ben, Parliament, our free press and courts but, on the morning following an election, a removal van. A van bustling out the departing Prime Minister, so powerful just the day before but now, scuttling peacefully away at the will of the people. 

That my friends is democracy. We just got that back.

To those bitching on Facebook, starting petitions; basically throwing their toys out of the pram, I say this, accept the result, move on and embrace the new opportunities we now have to forge our way in the world. We have many friends across the world, a well used language and, despite the EU elites being angry, many envious - non fascist - friends across Europe. Never forget, the Dutch and French also had their referenda in 2005. Both voted no to The Lisbon Treaty. Both were ignored. When democratic means no longer work, non democratic means become the logical solution. We have escaped that (though some people don't realise it). Let's hope my good friends in Europe get the chance (again) to have self-governing peaceful democracies.

Cheers

Tim

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Today I resigned from Facebook. It's an amplified version of that 1992 pub conversation my friends and I had following John Major's win. Back in those days you had to win arguments - now you just signal arguments. I think we've lost something.

Sign here to petition Parliament to remove David Lammy the Labour MP who has actually suggested ignoring the results of the referendum. Not only is it stupid and laughable but dangerous. This man is not fit to be an MP. Thanks to the great Rod Liddle for starting this.

The Gracchus and Brexit and political murder

Some thoughts about the referendum as we move into the last few days.

It's a strange atmosphere - after months of getting pummelled, Leave had started to pull away from Remain. I watched as poll after poll starting giving the 'right' result, hardly believing what I was seeing, crossing my fingers so as not to jinx the result. And then a madman murderers a leave MP and - though the facts are hazy - seems to be right-wing nut. 

Let's just say straight off - and this isn't pro-forma bullshit - as a democrat and patriot - this act, like the murders in the recent past - Airy Neave, Ian Gow and Sir Anthony Berry - takes a little bit of our soul, our democracy. It steals something from all us. Like tribunes in Ancient Rome - elected to serve and counter-balance the patrician Senate - MP's work for and represent us and should be inviolate. Jo Cox seems to have been liked by all who met her. Additionally she leaves behind a husband, three children and many friends and constituents who will all now miss her. 

But, she was obscure and I think I probably disagree with most things she espoused. Terrible and tragic though her murder was, we have an important decision to make on Thursday. The affairs of a great nation shouldn't turn on emotionality, even in 2016. No amount of shroud waving and mawkish sentimentality can put this decision off, nor, if Jo was half the great democrat I'm sure she was - should we. 

Politics is passionate and better when, verbally, the gloves are off and arguments get aired and debated. I have no tolerance for 'safe spaces', for passive-aggressive diatribes against tone, subject matter or 'the science is settled' closing-down mechanisms. Fuck that. If Farage wants to talks about immigration let him. If Osborne and Cameron want to bull-shit about WW3 and financial armageddon, then be my guest. If Will Straw and the Remain campaign want to get in the dirt and use a dead woman to shut down their opponents arguments then, tasteless and base as they are, go for it but be prepared to be called out on it.

As ever, Rome provides many illustrative examples from the Gracchus Brothers, to the clashes between the generals of the later republic, the bread and circuses of the Julio-Claudians onwards, the lassitude of the third century, the grit of the Danubian Emperors, the re-invention under Diocletian and Constantine. It was often violent and not pretty. We've - hopefully - lost the murderous end-game, but, nutters aside, kept the passion

So calls for restraint and civilised debate should always be viewed with a sceptical eye. If not physical or murderous - and please don't debase this threshold - then argue away. Why curtail free-speech, should always be the question. Who benefits from shutting down debate? Who gets shut out? Arguments need to be tested on merit, not locked away. 

As I've quoted before, I think the most realistic song on politics is The Who's 'Won't Get Fooled Again'. Unlike most political songs it's written from the standpoint of the powerless, the little person observing that the heat of political battle is often just froth (for them). Things just have a habit of working out. 

I pick up my guitar and play // just like yesterday// and get on my knees and pray// We don't get fooled again // Meet the new boss // Same as the old boss

Anyway, the debate is screwed up currently. Hopefully, the good sense of the British people will see past the tragic murder of an MP - who was a mother and politics professional, who had dodgy views - and make a decision.

I almost wrote informed there. But informed is not where we're at. It's in the instinct, the gut; this is no technocratic X in a box. This is about YOU as a person.

I will return to this.

RIP Jo Cox

Tim

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Terry Meets Julie

Britain is great for many reasons: Parliamentary democracy, inventor of team sports, abolition of slavery, religious tolerance, war-like but fair-minded; these are sterling attributes. But that is not the subject of today's ramble through the back waters of my memory - no, today we're gonna talk about Britain and pop / rock music.

Any small land that produced - off the top of my head, it's not hard - The Beatles, The Stones, The Who, Led Zeppelin, Elton John, Eric Clapton, Rod Stewart, The Sex Pistols, Duran Duran, Wham, The Smiths, The Stone Roses, Oasis, Coldplay can't be all bad (aside - are we shit now? Take That were all right but One Direction?)...

No other country except the USA - infinitely larger - can go toe-to-toe with us. (I haven't even mentioned my own musical career.) That's the embarrassment of riches we have here.

England : Stones, Beatles, Led Zep, Oasis, The Smiths, Lisa Stansfield (Rochdale reference)

Wales: Tom Jones, Stereophonics, Manic Street Preachers 

Scotland: Teenage Fanclub, Del Amitri, The Lost Soul Band, Rod Stewart (by his own definition)

Northern Ireland: Van Morrison, The Undertones

All right. England and Scotland punch above their weight. Wales and Northern Ireland less so. I might return to this. Certainly an article on Jock Rock is overdue and why 'You Can't Win Them All Mum' is just about the best song you've never heard of ever...

But here are some great Brexit songs from lesser known bands, that sum up the UK for me:-

Sham 69 - If The Kids Are United

Any group who have a chorus, ‘We’re going down the pub!’ is both bold and just right. Sham 69 were, for about five minutes in the late 70’s, famous for their very English, very football terraces sing-a-long tunes. Hersham Boys, Hurry up Harry, and If The Kids are United. These may not be great art – I don’t think Jimmy Pursey ever intended them to be – but they do go for the balls like all the best songs. They represent an English white working class culture that is often ignored, often derided but still exists if you look for it. These guys manned the squares at Assaye and Waterloo, fought in the trenches and battled fascism saving Europe (not the EU) with their spirit, banter and patriotism.

The Kinks - Waterloo Sunset

Before Ray Davies tumbled up his own arse in the 70’s, he was a damn fine song-writer. Addressing English type subjects in See My Friends, Days, Dedicated Follower of Fashion, The Kinks were a very English band (once they’d got over playing souped up versions of Louie Louie). Stuff like The Village Green Preservation Society I can take or leave, but a song like Victoria will always be greeted with a smile. There’s a great line in it: “Land of Hope and Gloria, Land of my Victoria.” Doesn’t get much better than that! But for pop genius, observational subtlety, the summation of ordinary life, this story of young lovers meeting after work in London has to be top. Yes, Waterloo Sunset is that strange thing, a perfect pop song. From the distinctive guitar lick, to the plaintive but catchy melody to the ordinary but so special lyrics “Terry meets Julie every Friday at five o’clock.” A moment of sunshine on a cloudy day.

The La's - There She Goes

The gods offered Achilles the choice of a short and marvellous life or a long and boring one. Some shit like that anyway. He chose, of course, short and famous. Some rock god must have come down to Lee Mavers in Liverpool the 80’s and, after paying a quid to mind his car, offered young Lee the same bargain; one hit wonder or a long career of mediocrity. Luckily for us Lee chose, one hit wonder. The La’s There She Goes is a wonderful thing; the chiming Byrds like guitar@, the infectious tune, the ambiguous lyrics. This Scouse pop rings out - even thirty years later - as fresh as a 17-year boy pissed on cider in a room full of scantily clad girls. I love by the way, the setting of this song in the 90’s remake of the film Parent Trap as the American Lynsey Lohan is driven around the sights of London in a Rolls Royce. Clichéd perhaps but countries are defined in broad brush strokes, not detail. This song, complete with Lee Mavers, should have been played at 2012 Olympics.

---

Why is it that Britain is so good at this stuff? Why is it - after years of French bitching - not only does everyone at the Eurovision sing in English but the presenters now don't even bother with their home language anymore (let alone French). Possibly it's down to the (historically disputed) vote in the US after independence to vote  for English as the official language and not German. Whatever; the talent of Beatles to write catchy songs, the Stones to write brilliant riffs and Led Zep to turn poor black blues into heavy rock gold - would have won out anyway.

We should celebrate our artists more. And we don't need the fucking EU to - as Pete says - 'Pick up our guitar and play, just like yesterday, and get on our knees and pray, WE DON'T GET FOOLED AGAIN.' (yes, spurious 1975 reference alert).

Vote leave. 

Tim

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The Star of Brexit - The Movie

The Leave side in the EU referendum have released a feature length documentary on the reasons why the UK should free itself from the tentacles of Brussels. It’s called Brexit - The Movie.

 You can find it on YouTube. Yeah, it’s partisan but, that’s the point, right? It marshals the arguments about why the UK should become at one stroke more internationalist and independent by voting out.

 All good stuff, but, if I may drag this away from high politics and into, er, the realm of the individual for a moment.

 You see, at 1 hour, 6 minutes and 40 seconds – at a guess, I’ve not checked, today anyway– well, yours truly plays a walk on part in Brexit – The Movie.

 In fact, it’s a key scene and some (well, me) are already saying it’s a pivotal scene.

 Check it out. Both the movie and my inadvertent – but happy -  bolstering of the Brexit cause.

 I didn’t even get paid! But some things are more important than money.

 Vote in for Europe (love Europe) and out of the the EU (hate unelected, supra-national corporatists)

Cheers

Tim

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Lord Farage appears in this movie. As do I. 

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Election Day. Not the Arcadia Song

Today is election day in the UK for many things large and small. London's mayor is up for grabs as are the devolved governments of Scotland and Wales. Plenty of local authorities are also being contested. Down here in Sussex we have, well, not so much actually. The Police and Crime Commissioner election. The 'Who?" and 'Why' election. PCC's as they are known, oversee the strategic direction and budget of local police forces and can hire and fire the chief constables.

The idea, in theory, is a sound one: let the public vote for someone who will implement the type of policing they like, you know, the old fashioned stuff  - bobbies on the beat, catching burglars, sorting out unruly teenagers hanging around on street. As opposed to monitoring Twitter, policing 'hate crime' and not enforcing laws they don't like (step forward cannabis possession).

Well, forgive me for not noticing, but has anyone seen any difference in the last four years since these local sheriffs were introduced? Possibly you might have noticed some attention-seeking twat making grandiose statements and pursuing political and personal battles with the resources of their office. Dick-measuring arguments with chief constables in the local press, perhaps. But I still can't remember the last time I saw a policeman out in the open (other than doing crowd control at Clapham Junction Station when the railways fuck up and the paying public get pissed off).

So, I guess the question is, does democracy actually matter? I mean, isn't it the cornerstone of every civilised state? Don't we go to war because the lack of democracy and insist on its presence before admitting countries into civilised clubs like the EU?

It is important. Of course. The Churchill quote on democracy is a bit hackneyed now but it cuts to the nub of the issue: “Democracy is the worst form of government, except for all the others.”  But on it's own democracy does not guarantee anything. You need other pillars of a state which, I'm increasingly persuaded, are as important.

For example - an election is held and Party A wins the election with 50.1% of the vote. It's main policy is to pass a law killing anyone in the 49.9% who voted for party B. That's democracy in action, no? Absurd though. What about the rule of law? What about the constitution? What about a head of state to veto said policy? Law courts? The separation of powers? Public consent? Society's norms?

What about the nature of the democracy itself? Which system? Who chooses the system? Who draws up the constituencies? Who makes the rules? Who supervises the elections? Does the state fund any parties? If so who and why? Who draws up these rules? Who gets to select the candidates? Do you get to vote for a candidate or a party? What is the strength of a mandate a party gets who may have a 1000 point manifesto but I get only one vote? Should we have a direct plebiscite on important issues? On all issues? On some issues? Who decides when we have a referendum? Should an elected government apply the result of a referendum?

This is why you hear oft derided commentators say that you can't impose democracy on country XYZ (newly liberated from an authoritarian dictator) because they have no history of democracy. Usually these objections are dismissed as reactionary - the commentator is basically saying that the people of country XYZ shouldn't have the same rights as our shiny democracy. But that is to make the grave assumption that an outcome (a peaceful democracy) is inevitable. It is not. There are things which underpin an outcome like democracy:-

- Rule of Law. Freedom from arbitrary arrest. Rights. Neutral courts. Neutral and accepted head of state. A non politicised police force or army.*

- Public Consent - through years (sometimes hundreds of years) a cultural backdrop that has gradually fallen into a system that is accepted.

- A tolerance of other views (religious, political - no windows into a person's soul**) and a willingness to accept a result that goes against your point of view. Similarly a willingness on those who win to be magnanimous and not use the state power against those opposed to them.

- A demos. A Greek concept this. There cannot be a democracy without a demos. I'm not arguing for cultural homogeneity. That ship has sailed. But some acceptance that in any given country there has been a certain path, a certain ethos, a certain system to be respected. If I lived in France I'm sure I would be exasperated and amazed in equal measure by their state apparatus. But I would abide by rules fashioned by their collective history, their republic, their "La garde meurt et ne se rend pas!" bloodymindedness. ***

The brighter amongst you will recognise that I've described Britain. Hell fucking yeah.

Vote out FFS.

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NOTES

* And it is a bloody Police FORCE not a police SERVICE. The police are the agents of the state on behalf of the people to enforce the people's laws. This is not a service. This is state power. A force. If everything is working correctly, it is the will of the people in a uniform.

** One of the completely fundamental foundations of the UK. Elizabeth I said she didn't want a window into men's soul. So tolerant. So British. So fucking NOW. Our country isn't the haven and peaceful democracy it is by accident you dumb-fucks! IT IS NO ACCIDENT. We had hundreds of years to get this right. Those who oppose 'The West' do not - now - have this point of view.

*** It's a blog I've been meaning to write for a long time. The 'cheese eating surrender monkeys' trope by ignorant assholes against the French pisses me off. This famous quote -  "La garde meurt et ne se rend pas!" (The Guard dies and does does not surrender!) was reportedly uttered at Waterloo by Pierre Cambronne, Colonel of The Old Guard. Completely outnumbered by the combined British, Belgian, Dutch, Hannovian & Prussian troops at the end of the battle, the Old Guard covered the retreat of the defeated and demoralised French army. Like the British troops earlier in the day, the Guard formed defensive squares but went down to a man against overwhelming odds as they retreated agonising foot by foot. Offered an honourable surrender by the British, Cambronne shouted this defiant reply. We do not surrender. We die. The French, under Napoleon and earlier under Charlemagne, conquered most of Europe through their martial spirit. Fuck off ignorance! Vive La France!     Rant over.

Bollocks in, Bollocks out

It's a little known fact that I trained as an economist at Sussex University. The economics department in those days of peak Thatcherism were all zealots of econometrics which, in layman's terms, means bastard sized equations to estimate outcomes like aggregate demand or inflation. We'd all go along to our tutorials quaking in our buckled boots fearing we'd have to go to the blackboard and write one of these algebraic monsters in front of our peers, or worse, our tutor. Our tutor, a man of Delphic persuasion would puff on his pipe and raise a quizzical eyebrow at our pathetic efforts to prove by mathematical formulas why the demand curve slopes downwards to the right and the supply curve the reverse.

"Are you sure?" he'd say as I hadn't a clue whether I was proving an incomes augmented philips curve or the half life of a hangover. 

Happy days.

Anyway, I raise this nostalgic ghost from the graveyard of dead Tim stories to illustrate that I have some background in economics. As I've grown older - and wiser - my scepticism towards the dismal science has grown.*

For part of my life I used to dream up models to enable a global corporation to justify multi million dollar investments. You know, if we spend X amount on hiring extra sales-people, they will produce Y amount of extra revenue in Z amount of time. Behind these three outcomes would be legions of assumptions. Some pretty robust - seasonality perhaps, some grounded in observable fact from incomplete data - the time historically it takes from a contract being signed to revenue coming in perhaps and some, absolute guesses - maybe how much a new salesforce will sell after six months or customer attrition rates. I just plugged in numbers, hit the return key and answers would spew forth! Scientific, yeah?

Now could I control the state of the economy? No. Could I control the exchange rate? Of course not. What about simple stuff like hiring the right candidates? No. Would they all be ready to go on a certain date? Never. How many would stay after the first month? Less than 100%. How many would we fire for being shit after six months? Twenty five percent? Gawd knows. All this had to be factored in with - you guessed it - assumptions.

Was I right? Of course not. Only God knows the future and my deity muscles are a bit rusty. Us mortals merely adjust as we go along based on the observable data you have at the time. Everyone who works in models and predictions knows this.

So, by training and by experience, I have some idea about models, about how models work and about how much humility anyone who peddles versions of an unknowable future should display. The future is inscrutable. The only facts are historical. And they can be argued.

So, George Osborne's Treasury released the findings of a model this week which stated, in broad terms, that in 14 years time, if we stayed in the EU, each household in the UK would be about £4500 a year better off than if we left the EU.

What does that mean? Well it means that across the millions of decisions made by companies and individuals, and not knowing what technology will throw up, not having a clue about the state of the economy in 12 months let alone 14 years, the Treasury built two scenarios which said that Scenario 1 (Remain) will be better than Scenario 2 (Leave) in more than a decade.

The hubris would laughable if the useful idiots of the press didn't repeat the model's findings as gospel. Either the people who repeat this guff are stupid or knowingly pushing an agenda. Either way, it stinks. Not everyone has my experience of how these numbers are created and might therefore believe what they hear as a fact, not as opinion, for opinion it most undoubtably is.

We all know the truism garbage in garbage out, of course. And that is perhaps the greatest truism about models one can repeat for it is ridiculously true. But what about cognitive bias where we seek out the answers we want and discard those we don't. Now imagine someone sat in the Treasury inputting literally thousands of variables and assumptions. They know the answer their political masters want from the model. I don't believe I'm being paranoid to state that I suspect all the assumptions go in one way, and not the other.

It's a human instinct but don't for a minute call it science.

There have been many claims in this Brexit referendum. Most are totally shameless and self-serving but I think that the Treasury report this week stands out as the most shocking in a crowded field. It's not as though they have a great record on predictions. It's too wearisome to go through them all but weren't we supposed to have eliminated the deficit by now, George. What we haven't? But you predicted that just six years ago. You mean predictions can be wrong? Really? I'm shocked. Shocked, I say!

The economic term for this is 'bollocks'. 

Next week we'll go through mal-investment and the Austrian School.

Cheers ears

Tim

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Classical Britain

My British soundtrack... 

Let's start with classical first. I'll return to rock, pop and folk later... I'm not exactly breaking any barriers with my selections here. They are all rather safe and well known. But, that doesn't stop them from being damn fine tunes and each in their own way, evocative of Britain. 

Elgar - Nimrod, from the Enigma Variations

Majestic and stately, respectful and slow to anger but shaking the earth with its wrath when roused, Nimrod is England in musical form. Or at least, my England. A lot of people go with Pomp and Circumstance as the patriotic high point of Elgar and I agree that Land of Hope and Glory is a perfect, end of the proms, flag waving, ditty. But Nimrod... Swelling is the description I would go with. Building and building until it's power dominates the room but then, fading just as swiftly as it has come. Along with Vivaldi's Winter (Largo) this is one of two essential classical pieces for me. And to me - it is England - not boastful nor proud but solid, right and beautiful. 

Parry / Blake - Jerusalem

There's a recording of me and my mate Stephen singing this in 1986 accompanied by my drunken Casio keyboard playing (with clap-clap drumbeat). Not my greatest recording ever. I only say this as an illustration that it's always been a favourite of mine. Based on a poem by William Blake (written whilst in West Sussex - green and pleasant land, indeed), the musical setting was provided by Hubert Parry in 1916. Rightly Jerusalem has come back recently as an anthem for everyone (the Suffragettes used to use it with Parry's permission) and not just the Tory Party. If England needs a national anthem, this is it. 

And did those feet in ancient time, walk upon England's mountains green

Anonymous (but let's go with the Vaughn Williams setting) - Greensleeves

One from Tim's Desert Island Discs circa 1975. Who could not like this medieval song from the 16th century? Probably not written by Henry VIII, it is nethertheless a window into Tudor times when so much of our national story was forged (Church of England, the break with Rome, religious tolerance, Shakespeare, the first colonies, a powerful queen, the successful defence of the realm by the nascent royal navy). I particularly like the interpretation of the lyrics that suggests that the Lady Greensleeves was a whore because whores' dresses were green from lying in the grass so much! No, let's give the lady a little more class than that, shall we?  I like the Vaughn Williams orchestral fantasia version because it seemed to summarise Merrie Olde England as characterised by, say, the Carry On Films. There's something very English about the tune and something very post-war about the WIlliams' setting (even if he did write it in the 30's).

Yeah, I know. All three are very English. Sorry about that Celtic fringes. Occasionally England needs to be heard too!

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Me and George Galloway

I attended the Grassroots Out (GO) campaign meeting at the QE2 Centre in the heart of Westminster last night. The event - as shown on TV news bulletins and in the press - was packed to the rafters. Standing room only. As I attended on my own, I found a good single seat near the front and so could watch all the speakers with ease. Even take a couple of pictures and videos.

Most of the press attention seems to have focused not on Farage tearing it up but on George Galloway being the surprise mystery guest. A few self-indulgent journalists and political hacks have made subsequent fools of themselves by saying they walked out in protest. Hundreds, said the Telegraph. Well, as I say, I had a good seat and I didn't see this. It's the nature of these large events that people are constantly getting up and down, to the loo, and so that's what it appeared to me. 

I only found out about the 'mass' walkout later when I read about it. Which prompts me to ask, who makes history - those who were there or those who write it up? I guess we know the answer to this question. Hence my blogpost.

For what it's worth, Galloway made a rousing speech that won over his audience. He was probably conscious that although GO is an ecumenical, all-party leave group, the audience in the room would comprise mainly of Kippers and old-fashioned Tories. It's a trope to say that although you don't agree with Galloway, you can see he's a good orator and worth watching. Well, I tread the line on consensus on this one, pleased that I've seen him in the flesh winning over a potential hostile audience with rhetorical flourishes, historical allusions and old time tub thumping. 

I wonder if he'll become the new - and canonised - St.Tony Benn (who he name-checked effectively last night). In his day, 70's and early 80's, Benn was despised by friends and foe alike. Later he became cuddly Uncle Tony, democrat and preacher of the old time socialist religion. Maybe this is George's future?

As an interesting aside, as the queue to get out was so long, I elected to go down the back stairs away from the throng awaiting the lifts. Walking down a service corridor guess who I should bump into? Only Gorgeous George himself.

"Great speech George," I said.

"Thanks," he said.

It is in such moments that history is written. Did I tell you I met Madonna once?

Power to the People!

Tim

- BTW, my attendance at the meeting and my views of the referendum will be coming soon to this website. I tried to write these thoughts earlier but got lost up my own backside somewhere around The Peterloo Massacre, The Rochdale Pioneers and William Wilberforce. I'll work on brevity!

- To see Galloway's speech, but alas not me, paste the following into your browser  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S8cF93B58Vw

- Amusingly - in the pub opposite the QE2 - I stood next to Mike Reid the former Radio 1 DJ. Thank Christ he wasn't the mystery guest!

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Nigel Farage last night