What the Church of England is really saying about same-sex marriage

Guest post by Alan Renwick, Reader in Comparative Politics, University of Reading   @alanjrenwick

Confused about the Church of England’s arguments concerning same-sex marriage? Here is a brilliant executive summary which which knows how to read between the lines.

Alan Renwick posted his thoughts on Facebook this morning and has kindly agreed to share his observations on my blog in order to make them more widely available.

Alan Renwick writes:

Alan Renwick profile picture
Alan Renwick

I’ve just read the Church of England’s response to the government’s consultation on same-sex marriage. For those of you not inclined to trawl through the whole thing, here’s a summary:

1. Marriage has always been between a man and a woman.  But we are not opposed to change as such, just change that is damaging to society (paragraph 8).  So we acknowledge it’s not a good argument just to say that same-sex marriage goes against tradition.

2. There is a “fundamental complementarity” between men and women (e.g., paragraph 13).   The only concrete way we can find to justify this statement is that a man and a woman are needed for procreation (paragraph 10).  We somehow think that this means we can exclude same-sex couples from marriage but not opposite-sex couples that just as clearly cannot procreate.  We don’t think we need to justify this mysterious logical leap.

3. We are not horrible people, as can be seen from the fact that our bishops supported the Civil Partnerships Bill in the Lords in 2004.  At any rate, we will assert this and hope that no one notices that in fact six of the seven bishops present supported a wrecking amendment on 24 June 2004 designed to destroy that Bill.  We will maintain the claim even though Iain McLean pointed out its falsehood in the Guardian last month.

4. If this legislation is passed, the European Court of Human Rights might rule that the CofE and other religious institutions are obliged to conduct same-sex marriage ceremonies.  At least, we will write rather a lot (annex, paragraphs 26–44) that is likely to be reported by journalists as suggesting this danger.  But actually we acknowledge that there is no reason to think the Court would require any religious organization to solemnize same-sex marriages (annex paragraph 36).  All it might require is that religious organizations that want to solemnize such marriages should be able to do so (annex paragraph 37).  We actually believe in religious freedom only for ourselves, so this prospect sends us into a frightful tizzy.

Anyone wishing to submit their own views to the consultation has until Thursday 14th June to do so.

Posted in Current events, Guest Post, Politics, Religion | Tagged , , , , | 4 Comments

Subject to a right royal confusion

(with thanks to Don Kranz, whose blog is a real inspiration, for luring me out of work-induced blog hibernation!)

It’s Diamond Jubilee weekend, and a time to think about the role of the monarchy, and the role it plays in all our lives. As so often, I seem to have some clear principles which turn awfully messy when they meet with real life, particularly when ‘real life’ means the chance to have a good party.

You see, I don’t really like the idea of having a head of state who is chosen on the hereditary principle: there, I said it. After all, republicanism (strictly small-r) is not a popular view right now – people don’t like politicians, and most people rather like the Queen. If you asked the electorate at the moment, their democratic decision would be, by a very large margin, that they want a head of state chosen by entirely undemocratic means.

Usually it’s quite easy to gloss over those sorts of questions and get on with life. But there are some moments where these issues suddenly have some practical importance.

I have plenty of principled friends who decided to leave the country, or at least to boycott (quietly or loudly) anything to do with the Diamond Jubilee.

I respect a principled stance like this, but I myself didn’t go that way.

– Perhaps I simply don’t feel about it strongly enough.
– Perhaps I think that as long we have a monarchy, certain things ought to be celebrated, and a republic would have to find worthy alternatives.
– Perhaps it is because I just can’t resist a good party.

You see, my neighbours organized a street party,  just as they did last year, on the day of the royal wedding.

Royal party image

Preparations for last year's royal wedding party

Socialising with your neighbours strikes me as a thoroughly good thing, and if it takes a royal event to motivate everybody to join in, that’s fine by me. And of course I went.

Is this hypocritical? Quite possibly.
But any other course of action, including just staying away, strikes me as so much worse.

The most awkward moment, however, came this afternoon when I spotted some pictures of republican demonstrations in London. It was important for somebody to be there to express an alternative opinion. I am more than disappointed to hear that their freedom of movement seems to have been restricted.

But one of the slogans on their placards really annoyed me.

Demonstration in London, 3rd June 2012Citizen, not Subject?

Surely, that’s NOT the issue. Almost everybody in the UK  really isn’t a subject in any sensible definition of the word, and to me, this is a very important fact.

You see, when I applied to become a British national,  I wanted to be a citizen, and I had absolutely no intention to be anybody’s subject, in any legal or practical definition, and I agonized over this for quite some time.

In fact, the 1983 British Nationality Act makes the difference pretty clear. British citizens are not (legally speaking) subjects – the ‘British subject’ status is actually a category for rather exceptional cases. So there wouldn’t be (and there isn’t) any piece of paper which confers this status on me in a legal manner. Of course, this might not be worth the paper it is written on, so what about reality?

I can’t really think of any way in which the Queen could restrict my freedom of action, speech or conscience in a way which would confer subject status. The government has such powers, too many in some areas, I’d argue, but they are elected (after a fashion I don’t appreciate, but the electorate likes it that way, as we found).

So, I am simply not impressed if republican demonstrations go out of their way to suggest to people that the subject/citizen divide is an issue. Perhaps they thought they had to remind people that they weren’t subjects, or wanted to emphasise that the audience was assuming subject status? What were they trying to say?

I’d find it a little presumptuous to suggest that everybody joining in the celebrations might be – think of themselves as –  give anybody else the impression that they are –  anybody’s subjects. Nobody forced them to go, and it’s their good citizens’ right to go and watch the celebrations; they probably did so for a variety of reasons: I bet that not everybody in that crowd was an ardent admirer of the monarchy. It was clearly quite a spectacle – and, to be honest, if they had included the reconstructed Greek trireme in the event (why didn’t they?) I’d have gone myself and stood in the rain just to see that magnificent vessel in action.

If people want that change, it’s time to remind everybody that we could get an elected head of government  – if that’s what a majority of us wants. ‘Power to the People’ surely isn’t the issue in this respect – it’s the question whether people actually want to use that power, or how they want to use it. Let’s not pretend that we live in a regime where that change wouldn’t be possible.

The real task, then, for all those who would prefer a republican system, is to convince a majority of British citizens that an elected head of state is in fact what they want. If legitimacy is the crucial issue, and I think it is, then the only way of improving on the current situation is a democratic decision to have an elected head of state, followed by elections. Nothing else will do. Will it happen soon? I am not holding my breath, to be honest, but you never know… (the case that change is not entirely improbable is being made here).

It’s days like these which really bring out some baffling contradictions and absurdities: and it’s days like these when I realise that this is exactly why I like this country so much.

Posted in Current events, Democracy, Life in the UK, UK Citizenship | Tagged , , , , , | 1 Comment

Greek Treasures: ancient and modern

I just came across this opinion piece in the LA times of 26th February by James Romm, a scholar I admire greatly.


Portrait bust of Pericles (Roman copy). Inscribed: 'Pericles son of Xanthippus, Athenian'

But here he offers an example of  highly emotional rhetoric which is historically unjustified. At the same time, his article is a great example of how ancient history is used in the debate about the state of modern Greece and its finances.

The article comments on the plans in cash-strapped Greece today to make money from its ancient sites, for example by hiring them out as film sets, and then makes a connection to a few incidents in antiquity, when states took temple treasures to make up for budget shortfalls.

Romm’s Exhibit A is the Athenian statesman Pericles, who, in Thucydides’ Histories (2.13.3-5) gives the Athenians an overview of their position at the beginning of the Peloponnesian War. He includes a quick audit of the cash reserves of Athens:

… there were still six thousand talents of coined silver in the Acropolis, out of nine thousand seven hundred that had once been there, from which the money had been taken for the porch of the Acropolis, the other public buildings, and for Potidaea.  This did not include the uncoined gold and silver in public and private offerings, the sacred vessels for the processions and games, the Median spoils, and similar resources to the amount of five hundred talents.  To this he added the treasures of the other temples.These were by no means inconsiderable, and might fairly be used. Nay, if they were ever absolutely driven to it, they might take even the gold ornaments of Athena herself; for the statue contained forty talents of pure gold and it was all removable.This might be used for self-preservation, and must every penny of it be restored.

The Parthenon

The Parthenon - temple, treasury or bank?

Is this temple robbery, a sacrilege, as Romm maintains?  There are two interesting facts one should remember about the Parthenon: firstly, it was apparently never used as a conventional sacred building. It contained a giant gold-and-ivory statue of Athena,  but the sacred image of the goddess was housed elsewhere, probably in the Erechtheion. And secondly, like many temples in antiquity, the Parthenon served as the treasury of Athens and could also take on the function of a bank. Temples did not invest funds, but they were seen as the most secure place to deposit treasures, public and often also private, for safekeeping.

Reconstruction: Athena Parthenos statue

Reconstruction of the gold-and-ivory statue of Athena in the Parthenon

One can see that Thucydides (Pericles?) imposes a kind of hierarchy on the temple treasures: the coined precious metals come first, then public offerings, private offerings and spoils of war dedicated to the goddess,  and finally treasures in other temples, too. The goddess herself, in form of her statue, is the lender of last resort, giving away, so to speak, her own golden clothes to save her city. Was this sacrilege? The sums listed here are large, but Athens had to finance a large fleet which required hundreds of talents every year. Their income at this point was good, drawing on tributes from allied states (also called ‘subjects’ by the Athenians themselves). It is not clear that at this point they  expected to reach such a point of financial desperation, although Thucydides may well have written this passage with Athens’ final defeat in mind.

Was it sacrilege to take these treasures? Pericles was clearly making a bold suggestion – but the case is not as clear-cut as Romm is suggesting. Modern Greece can hardly take its archaeological treasures to the bank – but in ancient Greece, the difference between a city-state’s savings and the treasures of its gods was not as clear-cut as Romm would have us believe. Athena – this particular Athena – was the protectress of Athens, and in the end, it was ultimately an argument between the Athenians and their goddess whether the temple treasures or the survival of the city would be more precious to her. Pericles suggestion was not as heinous a crime as Romm wants to make it out, even though stripping the goddess herself was an extreme measure which they probably never took (though we can’t be entirely sure). 

The situation was, of course, quite different when states proposed to raid international sanctuaries (such as Olympia or Delphi), or when an army helped itself to temple treasures as they moved through other states’ territories.

What is interesting in Romm’s article is that he seems to accuse Thucydides (and by extention, Pericles) of being far too pragmatic: how could somebody who was Greek, Athenian even, contemplate to use such cultural treasures for expenses in war?

As so often, we see a contrast between the pragmatic reality of fifth-century Greece, a tough world of politics war and, yes, sublime cultural achievement on one hand, and later constructions of that period in history on the other. Greeks under Roman rule looking back to the good old days of freedom moved the cultural achievements centre-stage, and this image was enthusiastically taken up by western Europeans re-discovering the country under Ottoman rule, imposing an idealised view to cope with their disappointment that what they found hardly resembled the Hellas of old.

I am not proposing that modern Greece should be as tough as Pericles in using its ancient treasures to deal with its financial problems – but its worth being careful with its history, too.

Posted in Exploring the Past, History, Inventing the Past, Remembering the Past | Tagged , , , , , | 5 Comments

Let’s hear it for constitutional amendments (or: the Demands of Democracy)

It’s rather early on a Sunday morning, and I am already on the train to Cardiff, determined to get there in time to vote on a few constitutional amendments. Yes, it’s that time of year again – it’s a Liberal Democrat conference, of course, where debates on such issues might be thought of as part of an identity-forming ritual.

But it’s also much more than that, because the party famously and often rather inconveniently (as any Tory MP would probably be all too glad to tell you) practices direct democracy – and democracy needs thought, practice, constant maintenance and the continuing trust of all participants. Many consider this a matter for the nerds – but I think it lies in the nature of democracy that it has to be discussed and policed constantly, that it has to leave a complex trail, on paper or online today, on tablets of wood and stone when it was first practiced two and a half thousand years ago. Democracy requires committees and committee meetings, debates about procedures, agendas and minutes, protocols for speeches, presiding officers – in short, it brings in its wake many of those activities which people tend to find tedious (at best!) and often entirely offputting. Who wants to be stuck in a meeting for too long, especially when there is too much talk about procedure?

As an ancient historian, I can hardly fail to look back to the beginnings of democracy in ancient Athens. They ran their city’s affairs, a complex set of foreign policies in a world of hundreds of states, a large fleet, quite a few wars and a large empire on the basis of debate and decisions in their assembly of all citizens, a body which met (in our terms) about once a week, in meetings which started at sunrise and which could (occasionally only, one hopes) go on till sunset made it too dark to count the votes. Nevertheless, there was probably a regular turnout of several thousand, even before the Athenians started paying citizens for attending.

Ancient commentators (all wealthy, most aristocratic) were not impressed with democracy: they were not convinced that the uneducated masses really could make decisions better than a smaller elite of educated citizens who had the time and money to engage in full-time public life. But one has to appreciate how much dedication and attention it must have demanded to participate in such meetings – sure, we can’t be too optimistic that all voters really understood the issues, but even being there and following complex arguments for several hours demands considerable commitment and patience. It’s hard to calculate numbers, but a very rough estimate might suggest that it was realistic to expect 10% of all adult men with full citizen status to attend at least the more important meetings. This may look like a low turnout, but the commitment expected in this case simply doesn’t compare with the requirement to turn up once a year at most and leave a cross on a piece of paper, which regularly seems to be too much for 30-40% of our electorate.

In our first year module on Classical Athens, my colleague Tracey Rihll and I put our students through a crude simulation of this directly democratic process of decision making. We wanted to make sure that the debate actually matters, which is why we make the group of about 120 students draft their own exam paper by means of an Athenian-style assembly meeting.

The effect on the students is always fascinating – and many come away with the question how the Athenians could ever run their affairs in this way. Of course, our students are not experienced Athenian citizens, the whole procedure is not institutionalised and some of the ground rules have to be improvised on the spot, but what strikes most of them is how cumbersome the process is, how some will find it much easier to have their opinion heard and their proposal adopted, and how long it can take to tame the initial chaos of proposals and turn it into a list of questions which will give them the best chance to show how well they have understood what we taught them. We always hear frustrated comments about the process: some years ago a student tried to propose a motion to put the teachers back in charge and just let us draft the exam paper – they were, in essence, choosing tyranny over the cumbersome democratic process. One year, some people tried to stage (with tongue firmly in cheek, but still) an oligarchic coup and take over the decision making process.

The students often fail to appreciate that in the end, they usually do manage to draft a reasonable exam paper with six questions within about 45 minutes, which is actually rather efficient, given the complexity of the task.

I think what one learns particularly from such an improvised version of democracy is how important it is to have a set of rules and procedures in place, how important it is for everybody to understand what these rules are and to use them with goodwill and the interest of the group in mind, and for all to engage in a constant process of scrutiny – with participants being willing to understand and police the procedures while mainly focusing on immediate business at hand.

So yes, let’s hear it for the ostensibly boring constitutional amendments: the Athenians knew how to make fun of themselves for being permanently obsessive about laws and lawsuits, but they were proud of the fact that their system allowed them to scrutinise their leaders and (it has to be said) each other, too. When I sit and follow a debate about the intricacies of Liberal Democrat constitutional clauses, I can see the funny side of the apparently endless obsession with getting such details right. But in the end, this is a crucial part of the democratic process: democracy doesn’t come easy, and it  certainly demands a long attention span, attention to detail and a good deal of patience.

Posted in Democracy, Party Conferences | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

A heroic trip to Swansea’s Quadrant Bus station

Last Tuesday (21st February), BBC Radio 4’s pm programme broadcast a memorable interview. It was part of their ‘take a leap’ campaign, challenging people to do something extraordiary on 29th February and tell the programme all about it.

The interview in question was with Jeffrey (I am merely guessing the spelling) who suffers from a severe anxiety disorder and therefore hasn’t managed for four years to take the half hour bus trip from his home to Swansea.  (EDIT: the BBC has now put a clip online: listen here, from 2:00)

Today, on Wednesday 29th February, he is planning to get on that bus and visit the Quadrant bus station in Swansea. He reckoned that he might even be able to get off the bus and have a coffee in the adjacent shopping centre before he travels back. It sounds like such a simple thing to do – but he described his condition very graphicly and it was quite clear just what a heroic feat this will be for him. If listeners’ reactions are anything to go by, ten thousands of people in the whole UK are now rooting for this one man to get to  Swansea’s Quadrant bus station today.

This story made me think back, too … Jeffrey hasn’t been to Swansea for four years – so he’ll still remember the old bus station: I hope the thought of that alone doesn’t keep him away.

It’s worth sometimes to remember the bad old days, just to keep appreciating that things can change for the better.

So here I am, remembering the old Quadrant bus station.

Oh the horror…

Swansea - old bus station

Swansea - old bus station. Abandon hope all ye who enter here.

– The sheep pens to control the queues.
– The drafty doors which would blow open to let in cold blasts of wind and rain as a reward for those who dared to be first in line.
– The strategically placed ledges for the pigeons to do what pigeons do when people walk past underneath.
– The floor which seemed to be specially designed to be slippery when it was wet which, due to the leaky roof, it almost always was.
– The clock which had stopped, probably years ago, and had never been fixed.

And at night… – well, you didn’t want to be there. Somehow you sensed that in Quadrant bus station, nobody would hear you scream.

It’s worth remembering sometimes just how bad and soul-destroying architecture can be.

I still have the occasional flashback when I walk through the shiny new bus station, with its bakery, cafe and shop (open late, so the whole place feels safer), with its spaces fit to accommodate humans rather than sheep.

The new bus station

Swansea: new bus station - actually fit for humans.

It’s amazing how much difference architecture can make. It’s just one of the major changes which have happened recently in this devastated city – and yes, to give credit where it is due,  much of this happened with LibDems in charge (I can’t remember a Swansea run by anybody else, and I wouldn’t have it any other way, of course).

Still in spite of all efforts, Swansea was (and is in many respects) home to some of the worst urban development disasters I have ever seen. The old bus station was the very worst, though – as if Thatcher’s notion that anybody over 30 using a bus must be a failure had been cast in grey concrete, with the special aim to make those pathetic pedestrians suffer for their failure, too.

It’ll be a very long time before Swansea’s urban environment lives up to its amazing topographical setting. But a lot has happened since I moved here seven years ago – and in those four years since Jeffrey last made it to the Quadrant bus station.

Good luck, Jeffrey, with your trip today. I hope you make it, and I hope you will be pleasantly surprised!

EDIT: The BBC now has a full report of Geoffrey Harris’s story:

Posted in Swansea | Tagged , , , , | 9 Comments

How much does one pay for a parliamentary seat?

Featured on Liberal Democrat Voice

This is clearly a question we have to ask  if we want to make sure that money cannot buy influence, a question we need to tackle if we want increased diversity in parliament.

I have been thinking about this for a while now, gathering some anecdotal evidence as I went along. Yesterday I came across an old article at Conservative Home which shows that the Conservative Party thought about this issue back in 2006 (hat tip to Alan Renwick, who linked it on twitter).

Their calculation was that at that point, a seat was likely to cost more than £ 40 000. – the article is worth reading, since it discusses all the various expenses – some of them probably unexpected for many.

I don’t know whether the Tories have brought these costs under control – but experiences of people who stood for the Liberal Democrats in past elections suggests that while things are done a bit differently in the LibDems, this estimate is not exaggerated – with no safe seats, many parliamentary candidates become full time campaigners long before the election campaign: houses are remortgaged, savings used up – some spend months sleeping on friends’ sofas to bring down living costs, some end up financially ruined if they don’t win the seat and can’t find a reasonably well paid job soon.

No safe seats – no cheap seats, either.

Well, many will now ask why this should matter: these people are ambitious and willing to pay for it – so why not? I am not suggesting that we should be awfully concerned for those who have already made it (pity for politicians? That would be a lost cause!).

But we should be worried about the impact on our political system, if personal wealth is (albeit not explicitly) a crucial selection criterion for those who are supposed to represent us all

How many people have a few grand at their disposal or know how to raise that kind of money from donors (preferably not dodgy ones who’ll demand favours in return)? How representative could they possibly be of the country?

I know too many people who’d make brilliant MPs, but don’t have much chance to get there under these circumstances.

Do we really want to select our parliament on the basis of relative wealth?

I know I don’t: it doesn’t sound like democracy to me.

Posted in Democracy, Money in Politics, Political Parties, Politics | Tagged , , , , | 5 Comments

In the Poet’s Own Hand?

Some time ago, I came across this photograph:

Iliad with 'autographed' stickerIt’s such an intriguing image – you wonder: was it just a mistake by some sales assistant, or was somebody in that bookshop making a very thoughtful comment on an age-old mystery?

Well, well…. just imagine.

What would the signature be like? What name would he write?
And would he be willing to sign the Odyssey as well?

At this point, I wonder whether we’d be any wiser if we read that his name was actually Melesigenes – how much, apart from a name, would he have to add to make us really any wiser about those epics?* We know already that whoever put them together was a genius in story-telling, but in the end, the Iliad and the Odyssey are the work of many nameless contributors: in a way, the Homeric mystery seems perfectly appropriate.

And yet… I’d love to see the signature in that book.


* I guess we would be rather surprised if he signed his name as Tigranes of Babylon – see Lucian’s little fiction experiment, Verae Historiae 2.20 (text here, scroll down to p.323).

Posted in Inventing the Past | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Well, I am back….

… sweeps away some cobwebs

I guess I have to apologise for leaving my blog behind for
so long.

It’s been a few busy weeks – any excuses I might make would make a localised version of many points made in this article:

Stefan Collini: The Threat to Our Universities (Guardian)

Posted in Education, Universities | Tagged | Leave a comment

Higher Education in the Marketplace

Sometime towards the end of the fifth century BC the young Athenian Xenophon encountered a man in a narrow side street. The man blocked his way and asked where every kind of food was sold. Once he had received a reply, he asked another question: ‘And where do men become good and honourable?’.  Xenophon was rather puzzled by this. ‘Follow me,’ said Socrates, ‘and learn’ (based on Diogenes Laertius 2.6.48).

Rafael, School of Athens, Detail: Socrates and pupils

Rafael: The School of Athens. Socrates and pupils.

The rhetorical questi0n about directions to the market – where food was sold – made sense in ancient Athens, since Socrates did indeed teach in the Agora – the city’s major marketplace. He spent his time there chatting to people – passers-by and a number of young men who regularly came to hear him, including, from this day on, the young Xenophon. Socrates’  teaching, at least as presented to us by Plato and Xenophon, consisted of questioning, of teasing out answers, of leading others, step by step, to new ways of seeing and understanding.

Today academics working in UK universities are also finding their way to the marketplace. But now it’s not fish and lentils that are being sold with incidental teaching merely going on at the edge of the square: we are getting ready to sell education itself . I have just come across a story from the USA which suggeststhat in such a market Socratic questioning might not always be quite so agreeable to the customers.

Inside HigherEd reports that an assistant professor at Utah Valley University was denied tenure (in effect this means he was sacked) because the students did not like his teaching.

They complained that … he asked  them questions in class even when they didn’t raise their hands. They also  didn’t like it when he made them work in teams.

Apparently, this university teacher deviated from the usual routine of lectures; he tried to stimulate discussion, asked students to prepare and made them engage actively with the arguments – a ‘Socratic’ method of teaching.

As we in the UK embark on our new adventure of teaching in a marketplace, do we have to worry that something similar might soon happen here? At the moment, innovative teaching styles are very much in demand, and – to give credit to our students – the general response to experiments and to attempts to break the routine of the lecture is usually very positive. And the most Socratic of all university teaching methods, the tutorial as practiced in Oxford and Cambridge, remains the gold standard in UK higher education.

There is, however, one sign that customer satisfaction might not always follow the traditional ideals of higher education: students and their  parents are increasingly eager to measure the fees they pay against the hours they spend in the presence of a lecturer. It is clear that in past years, when research was the only aspect of academia which was highly valued, some institutions neglected teaching; hours were cut and in some areas, students clearly had legitimate reasons for complaint. I understand that people now faced with increased fees want to know whether they get value for money. But merely counting hours, no matter the quality and type of teaching, is not a very effective measure of a good higher education. As universities collude with students in focusing on contact hours as a crucial measure of quality, we should be careful what we make them wish for.  The customer is king – but how do we make sure that customer-students understand the crucial properties of the product they are buying?

If higher education can give a student anything, it has to be independent thinking – a skill which has to be learned by, well, thinking independently. Lecturers and tutors have to make students think and engage – and then send them away to think some more on their own, work out problems on their own and start to look for information for themselves. No doubt, this is more work for individual students and might be awkward at times if you get caught out in a group discussion – but higher education ought to be an adventure, a journey of discovery, and the best of those can’t be undertaken without a willingness to take a certain amount of risk. Passive presence should not be sufficient for any student. Yet, this is what the students in Utah expected, and the university backed them up.

If the Higher Education market ends up encouraging a demand for more spoonfeeding and less independent thinking, as it seems to have done in Utah, the system will have failed. Socrates would not have found it acceptable in his marketplace, so much is certain.


Posted in Education, Universities | Tagged , , , , , , | 3 Comments

A Racism Row We Didn’t Need

Sometime yesterday evening, Diane Abbott, in a twitter conversation with her constituent Bin Adewunmi, expressed a rather insensitive view:

Diane Abbot's insensitive tweet (screencap)

Once the tweet was spotted, there was no halting the row.  Diane Abbott in thoughtless hyperbole shocker. As if she had never said something insensitive before! I think it was right that she was made to apologise: what she said was an unacceptable generalisation, and public figures say things like this at their peril.

However, the fact that Diane Abbott was wrong doesn’t make some of her critics any more right. I was amazed to see so many crocodile tears shed over Diane Abbott’s apparent racism against white people. Was her tweet racist? Technically it probably was.

But let’s not kid ourselves that we can so easily draw parallels: false equivalents are such an easy distraction, and this one looks intellectually dishonest at best and malicious at worst. Yes, a white MP uttering a simiular generalisation about black people would probably have got into more trouble. But this ‘reversed’ example isn’t exactly equivalent, because there is a well-established context which makes a difference.

As a white person, I have never been at the receiving end of racism – none I can remember anyway, and certainly not the serious stuff that scars you for life. The fact that I can hardly imagine what it must be like was brought home to me pretty vividly just a few days ago, when I came across this article, asking a number of non-white Brits: “What’s the most racist thaing that ever happened to you?”.

Context and people’s experiences matter, which is why it seems a bit rich for so many white people to complain so loudly about Diane Abbott’s racism. ‘She has a chip on her shoulder’, some commented:  that phrase always suggests that the grievances aren’t justified, or that people who don’t manage to look beyond past injustices somehow aren’t behaving properly – ‘not done in polite society’, so to speak, especially not if somebody is perceived as having overcome the obstacles that were put in their way. Should we really dismiss collective grievances about very real racism so easily?

This is not an excuse for what Diane Abbott said – but we mustn’t forget the legacy of racism, either. When non-white people complain about a racist remark, all those memories are part of their complaint. A complaint about Diane Abbott’s crude generalisation about white people just doesn’t have the same context. It’s a complaint easily made, but it doesn’t have the same weight behind it, and we shouldn’t pretend that it does.

We mustn’t let one stupid insensitive remark devalue the memory of what happened, and still happens, to non-white people in this country. Least of all we should do so in the week two people were finally jailed for the murder of Stephen Lawrence, while, after almost two decades, at least three of his murderers are still free.

That trial yet again reminded us all of what damage racism can do in this country; and it seems as if, after all this the tension and painful collective self-reflection many were almost grateful for a release – a chance to throw some of the guilt back at those who like to act as a voice of concsience, particularly when the person in question likes to be rather sanctimonious at times.

I was shocked about the sense of glee in many  comments about Diane Abbott’s ‘racism’. As if all the campaigning against racism were no longer quite so valid because one high profile black person is ‘caught out’ saying something that expresses racial prejudice.  In the UK, we are usually proud of the fact that racism has become socially unacceptable in many contexts. But it’s disconcerting how much unease and dissatisfaction seem to lurk just under the surface, as so many seem to enjoy ‘turning the tables’, so to speak, if an opportunity arises.

What Diane Abbott tweeted was stupid, hypocritical and prejudiced. But let’s not get worked up about the ‘problem’ of racism against white people. It’s just a distraction – and we shouldn’t let ourselves be distracted from a problem that’s still far too serious to play political games with.

Posted in Current events, Immigration, Life in the UK, Politics | Tagged , , | 4 Comments