Politics and the forgotten art of persuasion

Ben Wildsmith

In the 1960s, when Milton Friedman laid out the economic theories that later underpinned Thatcherism and Reaganomics, he included a negative income tax.

This, he proposed, would create as a base level of income for everyone, so that the unpredictability of a deregulated economy didn’t lead to widespread destitution amongst those who were disadvantaged by it.

Whilst technically different from a universal basic income, the idea had the same intention, and its omission from the practical application of his theories in the 1980s meant that inherent problems for which Friedman had accounted, were baked into our economics for decades to come.

Now, as that economic era stutters to its end, with widening wealth gaps and shortages in housing, public service provision, and opportunities, we are frequently hearing the call for a UBI as a lifeline when AI exacerbates these problems.

Mark Drakeford and Milton Friedman are strange bedfellows, but there we are.

This dysfunction in the application of ideas is baked into our politics, and it is a problem across the ideological spectrum. Ideas are sold to us by politicians as if they were products.

All changes will create winners and losers; all improvements will have inherent downsides and the potential for unintended consequences. In the practice of politics, however, policies must be marketed as perfect cure-alls. To weigh the negatives of a proposed policy is to give ammunition to its opponents.

Many of our pressing current problems arose from the marketing of neoliberal economics as not only the engine of prosperity, but also a self-correcting solution to the difficulties that arise from it. Friedman, in the civilised environs of academia, could anticipate the dangers of deregulation and suggest statist guardrails to address them.

The politicians drawing from his ideas, however, needed a simple sales pitch for their reforms. So, the idea that the market would somehow come to the aid of those deprived of resources to shop in it took hold.

The result has been the creation of enduring social problems that governments have been forced to address remedially, at vast expense, thus negating the purpose of their original reforms.

The market didn’t fix the roof in a deindustrialised area because it was more profitable to build a conservatory in one that benefited from the financial services industry.

This analogy holds across all our public services, where chronic problems lie unaddressed until they become acute and punishingly expensive to remedy.

From silted rivers to court backlogs, under-policed streets, and hospital waiting lists, the price is paid eventually, whether in more extensive works or the use of overpriced agency staff. What was sold as the shrinkage of the state turned out to be its neglect.

For politicians on the left, blinkered application of policy holds equal, but different, dangers.

In recent times, the most famous piece of legislation in Wales has been the change in how speed limits are applied. For those who supported this, and I’m one before you start, the argument was simple.

Research showed that impacts at 20 mph produced significantly fewer fatalities than those at 30 mph, so case closed. Ancillary arguments included saving money in the NHS, and even potential benefits in insurance costs for motorists. What’s not to like?

Government statistics

What wasn’t to like, for many, was that it put the government in the passenger seat of your car. If you are spending five days a week driving between work appointments, with all the stress that entails, having Lee Waters sat next to you cheerfully reciting government statistics as you crawl down an empty street can grate.

He’s right, of course, but you’re having to think about him, and by extension government, all day, every day.

Not only that, but you aren’t just in fear of a fine, you can pick up points on your licence for driving more slowly than you used to and potentially lose the sodding job as a result.

There is nothing designed to test a person’s faith in the system better than sending them on an online speed awareness course with motorists from England who wouldn’t have been penalised for your offence.

Governments on the right tend to see individual agency as trumping societal responsibility in all matters.

The paradoxical result is that irresponsibility ends up demanding that we all stump up to fix what’s been left in disrepair.

Common cause

On the left, a belief that the greater good should guide all decisions, can lead to the government showing up in more and more of our private spaces.

What is presented as a common cause can feel like a personal attack when people are on the wrong end of the downsides of well-meaning policies.

Should we all drive at safe speeds around built-up areas? Yes, of course. Should we be in fear of unemployment if we mistakenly shade 23 mph a few times over three years? Hmmmm…

How nuance can be reintroduced to politics is beyond me, but the binary nature of debate is consistently producing see-saw outcomes in our governance that are becoming absurd.

Upon assuming office, Keir Starmer spoke of a government that ‘treads lightly’ through our lives. I remember being impressed by that. Perhaps, I thought, he understands that progressive government risks alienating people if it doesn’t acknowledge their individual agency when making decisions.

Two years on, when he’s insisting on prosecuting protesting pensioners as terrorists, even after the Supreme Court said they were not, we can see the emptiness of his opening appeal.

Balancing mechanism

Just as Friedman saw the need for a balancing mechanism to forestall the chaos inherent to deregulation, so progressive governments, such as we have just elected in Wales, should think always of the perceived injury to individual agency that social engineering can inflict.

Before banning, proscribing, regulating, or otherwise interfering with things, perhaps encouragement and persuasion should be given priority.

Society is not merely a collection of individuals, as Margaret Thatcher had it, but neither are individuals just data points in a general trend. Somewhere in the balancing of those malign opposites lies the key to a happier future.