Simon T. Kaye

Electoral reform, improbably enough, is now at the heart of everything. This is the long-discussed ‘dream scenario’ for the Liberal Democrats, and of course they’re terrified by it, even as Nick Clegg, Chris Huhne, David Laws & co. expertly manoeuvre us into the ideal equidistant central position for the last day or so of negotiations. The excellence of David Laws’ “Seven Rules” for coalition-bargaining cannot be underestimated here.

Yesterday, Gordon Brown launched his dramatic final gambit – he sacrificed his own political career so as to increase the likelihood of a fourth parliamentary term dominated by Labour politicians. Regardless of whether this actually works, I rather suspect that Brown has secured a spot in the history books (as well as a total tenure as PM which longer than that of James Callaghan) thanks to the gentle levering from power which Nick Clegg has done so carefully over the last few weeks. We all knew Brown was going – and he used his career as a weapon.

The Tories’ response revealed for the first time the deeper outline of the deal that is taking shape between themselves and the Liberal Democrats. They have taken their common ground on environment, education and civil liberties. The Lib Dems appear to have made the large-scale concession that cuts to the deficit must begin this year, rather than next year. I can only presume that a similar concession has been worked out on immigration, as David Cameron will surely face internal revolt if he doesn’t manage to cap non-EU immigration. Issues pertaining to the EU and Trident renewal must, quite rightly, have been put on the back-burner for now.

In return for these concessions, the Liberal Democrats seem to have got their tax proposals accepted, which is a significant victory, and have also picked up, after yesterday’s Corbomite Manoeuvre, assurance of a free vote on a referendum on electoral reform to the Alternative Vote System, along with the introduction of fixed-term parliaments.

However, there is a third plank to the Conservatives’ interest in electoral reform, and it is this third plank which has spooked Labour out of wanting what must otherwise seem like an appealing term as a strong opposition party with the prospect of powerful renewal under a new leader. The Conservatives will almost certainly make radical constituency boundary changes before the next general election. By equalising the size (in terms of population) of every constituency, they will effectively destroy the source of Labour’s strength. In 2005, their handsome majority of Commons seats only existed in Scotland and Wales. This year, they kept a better grip on their core seats than many expected, but were still wholly defeated by the Conservatives in England alone. The Scottish and Welsh constituencies tend to be less populous. The great worry in the high command is that, if these changes come in, Labour would have to win the next election in England as well: no mean feat.

Scratching out a (probably) unstable alliance with the Lib Dems is therefore perceived to be Labour’s last hope before a generation in the wilderness. This may be completely wrong – the next government is sure to be pretty unpopular as it deals with the deficit and Labour could revel in chastising the Conservatives and Lib Dems together. But the electoral mathematics gets very sticky indeed with the regulation of constituency size. The tories have clearly decided that they can afford AV as a trade-off with this advantage over Labour.

It’s obviously incredibly couragous of me (in the suicidal Yes, Minister sense) to stick my head above the parapet with anything that looks like a public prediction of the outcome of this election. But here are a few things that I think aren’t being included in the debates – specifically, some reasons why (despite the predictions of most Men Behind The Polls) Cameron’s Tories might not get their outright majority on May 6th.

1. The Liberal Democrats will hold on in the South

I’ve obviously got an interest which doesn’t need to be declared here, but all the same. Uniform swing predictions are absolutely useless when talking about the Lib Dem/Tory marginals in the South of England. I had the pleasure of helping out in Liberal Democrat MP Tom Brake’s south London constituency of Carshalton and Wallington. The figures suggest that this place is on an electoral knife-edge, and the seat is high on the Tories’ target list. But local people are big fans of Tom Brake, who happens to be an incredibly hard-working MP, one of the very few who came out of the expenses scandal looking like a saint, and also happens to be rather good at his job. In other words, I’d still put my money on Tom holding on (at pretty good odds, but anyway). Seat-by-seat, I think the Lib Dems are going to hold on rather well in the south – better, that is, than many predictions suggest. And this means that the Tories will have to do all the better in places where, traditionally, they tend to struggle to attract votes – places like…

2. The North

People are talking a lot right now about how the Conservatives have ‘won’ the first week of campaigning. Perhaps they have – they’ve seemed to control the agenda, at least. But all Labour really needs to do at this point is look like a tenable government. If they achieve the appearance of anything like a votable or supportable political force, then the electoral hill the Tories must climb in the North of England turns into a mountain. And I’d argue that the first week of campaigning has at the very least shown Labour to be competitive in this minimal way. The credibility gap has been bridged. By a similar token, the Tory ‘coup’ of getting into bed with apparently every single businessman in the country in the NI debate could backfire badly beyond the South. They’re publishing an endorsement from the former head of Meryll Lynch, for crying out loud. Have we forgotten about the financial crisis already?

3. Labour gets the credit for escaping the recession

It’s been little reported, but a number of polls have shown that a healthy majority of British people thank Brown, Darling et al. for fixing the economy. It’s a pretty simple rule of electoral analysis, actually: the sitting government always gets blamed for a bad economy, the sitting government always gets rewarded for a bouyant one. We can explain the majority of all electoral outcomes in history by pointing to the personal finantial situation of the average voting citizen, and frankly things could be a lot worse for Labour in this regard. Cameron may find himself having to explain why he opposed (and opposes) many of the measures which appear to have done the trick, whether or not this line of questioning is fair.

4. Brown could win the debates

Don’t laugh, it’s perfectly possible. I’ve just been discussing this with a friend who suspects that Brown will simply look too uncharismatic and ponderous and dull next to Clegg and Cameron, but I have my doubts. Surely Cameron will have the greatest expectations heaped upon his shoulders? In the US, where these debates are not novel at all, the Democrat and Republican political machines have become adept in the art of ‘expectations management’: minimise the general expectation of your guy’s performance as much as possible, and then any kind of success will have a strong effect. Woe unto the candidate who is expected to perform brilliantly and merely performs well. Cameron is this candidate, and for all his preparation, I think he does rather better in the direct, adversarial type of debate that we see in PMQs every week. Brown will be fine in the carefully clinical, rules-driven encounters that people will actually watch. Never underestimate the pursuasive strength of a statistic. Brown likes statistics.

Of course, the biggest opportunity in the debate belongs to Clegg, and he may very well shine. But anybody ‘winning’ who isn’t Cameron will be a disaster for the Conservative campaign. My friend points out that the narratives are pre-set: the newspapers and commentators have probably already decided who won these debates. But this is a chance to talk directly to voters, and get a precious thirty seconds of speech into the news: very hard to argue with.

Last note – Just so you know, my long-promised, long-delayed political science analysis of AV voting reforms will emerge soon.

Well, the political news is full of the planned Commons vote-on- referendum for electoral reform. This is one occasion where my job and political beliefs as a Liberal Democrat coincide very nicely with my vocation and my research for a PhD in Political Theory – so I hope you’ll permit me to indulge in a little bit of an academic approach to this situation.

The system to be voted on is a classic – the old ‘AV’ system. This is no surprise. Elements of the Labour party have long preferred the Alternative Vote or ‘Instant Runoff Voting’ as the basis for electoral reform (though I suspect that the majority of that parliamentary party has never quite seen the point).

The political motivations of Labour’s move appear to be twofold. Firstly, they hope to show up the Conservatives as visibly opposed to a reform that, following the whole Adventure of the Abused Expenses, may be viewed as a popular measure to hand stronger accountability to the public.

The other reason boils down to electoral mathematics: by building the mandate for electoral reform now, Labour is eyeing a future election where the tories are still broadly the most popular party nationally, but will be unable to build anything resembling Labour’s 1997-2005 unofficial supermajority in the Commons. It’s possible that serious treatment of voting reform could only ever emerge from a vaguely leftist, unpopular government. The truth is that the vast majority of voters for Labour would rather vote for the Libdems than the Tories, and that most (though a few less) Libdems would rather have a Labour government than a Conservative one. Together they’re a (50%+) majority, so at the most basic level the maths of this make sense for Labour. Moreover, the motivation for such reforms evaporate with the promise of political success in the First Past the Post system (FPTP) – why kick away the ladder that let you climb up?

Labour’s political machinations aside, as a Liberal Democrat I can only get excited about any half-serious approach to a change in the voting system. There’s no question that the Libdem preference – Single Tansferable Vote (STV) – would be more proportional in effect, and I wouldn’t be surprised if many of our MPs demurr during the vote on the basis that the reforms don’t go far enough. But there are other grounds for criticism of the AV system, beyond the “it goes too far” or “it doesn’t go far enough” cries that you’ll be hearing for a the next few weeks.

As part of my research, I’m working on something called Arrow’s Impossibility Theorem. I won’t go into too much detail here, but Kenneth Arrow basically came up with mathematical expressions of democratic norms, and then asserted that within the boundaries of these requirements there could be no voting system between three alternatives that could guarantee stable and non-arbitrary outcomes.

Well, since Labour’s announcement I’ve been doing some thinking about this, and worked up a couple of examples, and I think I’m ready to assert that the AV system is not capable of increasing Democratic meaninfulness even as we know it has only limited ability to improve the proportionality of electoral outcomes.
I’ll leave it there for now, and put up part two, with all my more academic objections, very soon.

With the Copenhagen Summit underway and the low rumble of discontent over the hacked emails debacle still audible, I feel the need to communicate my feelings on all the claims and counter-claims on the ‘science’ of global warming.

I marched on the ‘Copenhagen Wave’ last weekend, along with tens of thousands of other people from all around the UK. It’s a worthwhile cause, I’m strongly in favour of firm emissions reduction targets, and I believe that human activity is responsible for the climate change going on around us. Note, however, the use of the word ‘believe’ – I don’t know anything – not scientifically, anyway.

‘Scientific facts’ are curious beasts. Science may be said to be incapable of producing hard-and-fast facts. One formulates a hypothesis; one tests it; if the hypothesis is upheld, and is upheld repeatably, then surely we have a scientific fact on our hands? Well, yes and no.

Within the framework of the experiment, we have shown a ‘fact’ – but it’s possible that laboratory conditions or the specific arrangements of a test differ from what we’d assume to be ‘normal’ conditions. Test conditions are capable of presenting spurious, irrelevant or simply untrue ‘facts’. It works the same way as the framing of verbal logic.

So, scientific facts prove only the specific hypothesis which are tested. More importantly, they can only be assumed to do so temporarily. Facts have use-by dates. The first relevant experiment to come along and throw new light on a question or display slightly different results will once again throw doubt onto any ‘scientific fact’, and it is a part of scientific method to assume that proofs are finite in this way. A statement is true until proven false, just as the accused is innocent until proven guilty. The difference is that reasonable doubt runs the other way: if there is reasonable doubt as to the truth of a scientific statement, then it cannot really be called a fact. For this reason, there must be much, much more evidence in support of a claim of scientific fact than there need to be made against it in order to ‘disprove’ it – which is parallel to our legal metaphor, where the onus lies with the prosecution to eradicate reasonable doubt.

The third important point about scientific facts is that, in an important way, they can never get beyond inference. We may observe the correlation between two different things a hundred times in experiments – but all we’ve really seen is the same correlation, a hundred times. So even with the non-existence of contrary evidence, ‘scientific fact’ requires someone to look at the evidence and draw a causal conclusion about it all – to claim “these things are not coincidental: one causes the other”.

These three question-marks can help us to look at the human-caused (‘anthropogenic’) global warming argument objectively:

First of all, anyone who tells you that anthropocentric climate change is proven, certain, a done deal, is either lying to you, or doesn’t know much about science. These will be the sort of people who say ‘climate change deniers’ instead of ‘skeptics’. Even in so far as there is any such thing as a ‘scientific fact’, I cannot in good conscience write that anthropogenic climate change is one – no matter how useful that could be politically.

Why isn’t anthropogenic climate change a scientific fact? First of all, our planet’s atmosphere does not constitute a nice, stable test condition. It has its own ups and downs, is sensitive to the activity of the sun and to its own internal weather patterns, such as el niño. Even today our weather and climate can be altered by unpredictable, freak occurences. Trying to draw a general trend out of this mess, even over fairly long periods, is very hard work. Even worse, climate change scientists will always be frustrated in their efforts to project changes into the future, and a key element of scientific proof is in the success of a model: can we extrapolate our findings into a means to predict what will happen next? In this case, the short-term answer is no.

Instrumental data on warming. The range since useful records began is about 1 degree centigrade in total. From Wikicommons.

Secondly, even with something like an upward trend (which is more or less visible in the data – see the diagram above), there is the problem of cause-attribution. This is made a bigger issue by the fact that the two curves under scrutiny here do not scale particularly well together.

I take as absolutely true that greenhouse gas levels are increasing significantly in the atmosphere, and that these gases are being released because of human activity.

More difficult to prove, but still, in my opinion, true, is the general trend of a warming climate over the last fifty years or so.

But these facts together signify only correlation. I, personally, believe that there is enough evidence to link them causally. This third leap is required for ‘scientific fact’. But the problem is that the rate of the increase in temperature does not match in terms of scale the rate of increase of CO2 in the atmosphere, or adhere to the predictions of scientists. There can be little doubt of an increase in CO2 levels – whereas warming levels can be attributed to other causes, such as solar activity or the (thus far barely understood) planetary rhythm of ice-age to warm-patch.

One word of warning  – stick to the instrumental data. Information on the ‘medieval warm period’ is worse than useless, because of course there is no reliable measurement information from that far back. We are limited to the last hundred years or so, and this is both bad news and good news for climate change scientists. It means we must discount the geological probabilities that this planet has been considerably warmer and considerably cooler than it is now at various points in its history, over the course of millions of years.

But these ‘good’ records do show a temperature increase, and it corresponds in terms of timeframe with the start of human industrial activity in earnest. This is enough for me.

Skepticism, it must be noted, is a good thing. It is the scientist’s responsibility to be skeptical, which is why the activities of the UEA scientists is particularly reprehensible. But skeptics must be skeptical always: there is far, far less evidence for ‘alternative’ causes of temperature increase than there is for the greenhouse effect argument, and this is what must be said at the Copenhagen summit.

It is with healthy skepticism that we ought to take action against CO2 emissions. We don’t know anything for certain – but shouldn’t we hedge our bets? I don’t think that scientific rationalism should ever form the basis, by itself, for public policy. But the intuitive response to all this information is to detect a cause, and the response to that intuition is clear.

And wouldn’t it be a noble human objective to cut down on pollution regardless of its relationship with climate-change? Why does no-one ever make that argument?

There’s been another long fallow period on this blog.

My thinking at the moment is that I should really re-orient what I do here around my work as an organiser for North East Hertfordshire’s Liberal Democrats, and leave lots of space for off-the-cuff ideas, fun and academic resources.

So, a few things:

Today has seen the launch of ‘Act’, which is the Liberal Democrats’ new social networking and organisation tool. Visit Lib Dem Act. I’ve just joined, and I’m not quite sure how long it will take for it to pick up enough members to start being really useful, but it’s very swish stuff. Go and take a look, and do join!

If you live in North East Hertfordshire, then you should get onto Facebook and join the debate at the new LibDem group there, specifically for your region. The group is a work-in-progress, and I’m keen to see how much support I can get together for a very-local social networking party presence. Everyone welcome.

Things will stay slow here for a little while, but change is coming!

I’ve had some interesting replies to my last post on this, so I thought I’d put down a bit more here. Just from the outset, though: I wrote the original piece out of bemusement that everyone had given up whinging about the NHS for a day. I was hoping to strike my usual balance of being critical of something while still supporting it overall.

The estimable Shiro Ota wrote this:

Perhaps the NHS does constitute some semi lack of freedom (to be as detrimental to your own health as you like, although most people who live in such a way don’t seem to worry too much about their moral responsibility not to strain the system); but surely that’s more than offset (by a long way) by the benefits of aiding those who are genuinely, unavoidably, unhealthy; and those who are upstanding; hard-working citizens who could, nevertheless, not afford equivalent private care.

Randian objectivism is an understandable system that would oppose an NHS. But without subscribing to that (which I don’t), I can’t see a case for opposing its institution. In post-war Britain; or at present.

The question of the balancing act returns, of course - do we derive a greater value (of freedom or whatever else is at stake here) from the existence of the NHS as we do from the potential state of its non-existence?

It’s hard to prove anything from a counterfactual (and I should know). I suppose that all I can say in reply to this is that I don’t feel the only alternative to socialised health-care is its polar opposite. This is reflected in the fact that a Labour government has been spending the last decade and more tying the NHS to private interests, partnerships, and investment. I don’t think it’s working – actually I think it’s disastrously half-arsed.

Coming from another world, though, where we never had an NHS, I think that state intervention would be perfectly acceptable in a system that is, for the most part, operated in terms of a free market of health-care. So I don’t think that Randian Objectivism is the only recourse, or that, indeed, it could be any sort of improvement.

Obamacare may be basically the right synthesis, in the end – I’m sure we’ll find out.

My sainted mother, Dani Kaye, wrote this:

And why don’t you mention what you would put in its place, given the relative poverty of such a massive proportion of the British population compared to, say, Switzerland, where we have mandatory health insurance?

Well I think I made clear that I wouldn’t do anything like remove the nhs… it’s too well-established. But if I was starting from scratch?

Subsidies delivered to essential, first-level health services and medicines, mandatory insurance with certain benchmarks of assistance based on personal income, anti-monopoly laws for hospital ownership and licensing permissions so there wouldn’t be too much geographical overlap… basically a really, really well-regulated market scenario. Rather than the current approach, which is to try to de-regulate, localise and set up PFIs etc. over the top of a state monopoly. No NICE, either: individual health establishments make their own decisions about their services, above a certain level. They compete, improved services are incentivised, and thus we’re hardly dealing with some anarchistic nightmare realm.

Another particular friend asks:

Is it just me or are the Daniel Hannan NHS comments pretty reasonable?

Well, Hannan clearly thinks the whole project was misguided, though he seems to agree that people have always meant well in instituting the NHS. I don’t actually have a problem with this guy. He’s mainly saying things that most people say every day: we spend too much money on it, it’s over-regulated, and it has crazy little breakdowns in its own special ways. It’s a perfectly reasonable point of view.

A few points about the general Fox coverage, though: Doctors over here are paid PLENTY. There’s no argument to be found on that. I truly believe that. Could they be paid more? Sure! But I don’t think their pay levels are in any way part of any of the problems that our system has.

I’ve been enjoying the big online argument over Britain’s NHS. Fox News have thrown around the idea that it lets terrorists into the country. CNN has a pretty good overview of how everyone’s been responding to the US Republicans’ claim that the system is “Orwellian”. And the #welovethenhs tag trundles away on Twitter.

Complaining about the NHS is pretty habitual in practically every British person that I know. “I can’t believe I had to wait thirteen weeks to have my _ looked at!”, “You won’t believe how long I was waiting in Accident and Emergency and then they didn’t even do anything!”, “It’s ridiculous how our hospitals have become home to ‘superbugs’ – why can’t they just keep the places clean?”, and so on.

What most people don’t do is make the outright principled stand – they don’t object philosophically or ideologically to the cost of the NHS, the idea of living in each other’s pockets, or the loss of personal responsibility for health.

(Erm, we also don’t think the NHS lets terrorists in.)

So I’ve always concluded that most Brits want socialised health care, but they want it to be better than it is right now. What’s fascinating about the ongoing debate is that so many people seem to be leaping to the NHS’s defence completely unequivocally.

Well, let’s be measured about all of this. As a Brit by birth, I’ve used the NHS many times. So here is a FAQ:

Does the NHS provide an overall good standard of medical care? Absolutely. It works. People get treated, and it’s absolutely free at the point of use. I usually come away satisfied. Just not always.

Is that standard as high as in a privatised health system? Not at the top, but it’s far better for folks at the bottom of the chain. By the way, in the UK, people who want to can take out private health insurance and seek private aid, so there isn’t a total monopoly.

Is the NHS a massive, creaking bureaucratic behemoth? Oh lord, yes. The NHS is plagued by wastefulness, red tape and is swarming with money- and time-wasting bureaucracy. Hopefully this can be reformed.

Do most people put more money into the system through tax than they’re ever likely to get back through treatment? Of course. If you don’t like that, you don’t want socialised…. well, anything. Apart from maybe education.

Is it OK to be philosophically opposed to nationalised health care? Yes. It does work, it’s about a million miles from being perfect, but if you’re fundamentally opposed to the idea of distributing the personal responsibility for one’s own wellbeing, then you should feel free to hate the NHS.

As the chief legacy of Clement Attlee’s post-war reforming government, the NHS was originally intended to form the cornerstone of a projected ‘Socialist Republic of Great Britain’. Clearly, this never happened. But the idea was so popular and so effective that the NHS is absolutely at the heart of the UK’s version of the ‘post-war settlement.’

It’s an assumed fact of life here: people don’t think to oppose the NHS on any fundamental level any more. The single biggest compromise to universally socialised medicine in the NHS took place months after the service was inaugurated, with the introduction of prescription charges. Since then, not even Maggie Thatcher has found the time to repeal the key parts of our health care system.

Speaking for myself, I find it hard to escape the usefulness and ‘fairness’ of this system (especially when it has treated me well, as it has for the last little while).

But would I institute such an establishment again, today, if I had the choice? Probably not.

The fact of socialised health care legitimises the worst instances of government nannying. We are now nagged and scolded on a daily basis over the latest health fads, based on one or two studies somewhere in some department of medicine, and often quickly withdrawn when competing evidence is produced. We eat too much salt, we don’t eat enough vitamin C, we need certain foods, a certain lifestyle. I don’t think government should get involved with the way people live their lives. But when everyone else pays for your own health problems the responsibility for them becomes impersonal. Your weight, your habits and your choices become everybody’s business.

The NHS is unweildy, but willing; it works in earnest, but doesn’t always deliver perfect healthcare. No system can. So if you’re going to oppose the NHS, do it properly, from the ground up: do it because you think it’s a signpost on the road to decreased freedom. Everything else is just noise.