Sick of this market-driven world? You should be

The self-serving con of neoliberalism is that it has eroded the human values the market was supposed to emancipate

• 
• • George Monbiot
  • The Guardian, Tuesday 5 August 2014 21.05 BST

‘The workplace has been overwhelmed by a mad, Kafkaesque infrastructure ... whose purpose is to reward the winners and punish the losers.’ Photograph: REX/High Level

To be at peace with a troubled world: this is not a reasonable aim. It can be achieved only through a disavowal of what surrounds you. To be at peace with yourself within a troubled world: that, by contrast, is an honourable aspiration. This column is for those who feel at odds with life. It calls on you not to be ashamed.

I was prompted to write it by a remarkable book, just published in English, by a Belgian professor of psychoanalysis, Paul Verhaeghe. What About Me? The Struggle for Identity in a Market-Based Society is one of those books that, by making connections between apparently distinct phenomena, permits sudden new insights into what is happening to us and why.

We are social animals, Verhaeghe argues, and our identities are shaped by the norms and values we absorb from other people. Every society defines and shapes its own normality – and its own abnormality – according to dominant narratives, and seeks either to make people comply or to exclude them if they don’t.

Today the dominant narrative is that of market fundamentalism, widely known in Europe as neoliberalism. The story it tells is that the market can resolve almost all social, economic and political problems. The less the state regulates and taxes us, the better off we will be. Public services should be privatised, public spending should be cut, and business should be freed from social control. In countries such as the UK and the US, this story has shaped our norms and values for around 35 years: since Thatcher and Reagan came to power. It is rapidly colonising the rest of the world.

Verhaeghe points out that neoliberalism draws on the ancient Greek idea that our ethics are innate (and governed by a state of nature it calls the market) and on the Christian idea that humankind is inherently selfish and acquisitive. Rather than seeking to suppress these characteristics, neoliberalism celebrates them: it claims that unrestricted competition, driven by self-interest, leads to innovation and economic growth, enhancing the welfare of all.

At the heart of this story is the notion of merit. Untrammelled competition rewards people who have talent, work hard, and innovate. It breaks down hierarchies and creates a world of opportunity and mobility.

The reality is rather different. Even at the beginning of the process, when markets are first deregulated, we do not start with equal opportunities. Some people are a long way down the track before the starting gun is fired. This is how the Russian oligarchs managed to acquire such wealth when the Soviet Union broke up. They weren’t, on the whole, the most talented, hardworking or innovative people, but those with the fewest scruples, the most thugs, and the best contacts – often in the KGB.

Even when outcomes are based on talent and hard work, they don’t stay that way for long. Once the first generation of liberated entrepreneurs has made its money, the initial meritocracy is replaced by a new elite, which insulates its children from competition by inheritance and the best education money can buy. Where market fundamentalism has been most fiercely applied – in countries like the US and UK – social mobility has greatly declined.

If neoliberalism was anything other than a self-serving con, whose gurus and thinktanks were financed from the beginning by some of the world’s richest people (the US multimillionaires Coors, Olin, Scaife, Pew and others), its apostles would have demanded, as a precondition for a society based on merit, that no one should start life with the unfair advantage of inherited wealth or economically determined education. But they never believed in their own doctrine. Enterprise, as a result, quickly gave way to rent.

All this is ignored, and success or failure in the market economy are ascribed solely to the efforts of the individual. The rich are the new righteous; the poor are the new deviants, who have failed both economically and morally and are now classified as social parasites.

The market was meant to emancipate us, offering autonomy and freedom. Instead it has delivered atomisation and loneliness.

The workplace has been overwhelmed by a mad, Kafkaesque infrastructure of assessments, monitoring, measuring, surveillance and audits, centrally directed and rigidly planned, whose purpose is to reward the winners and punish the losers. It destroys autonomy, enterprise, innovation and loyalty, and breeds frustration, envy and fear. Through a magnificent paradox, it has led to the revival of a grand old Soviet tradition known in Russian as tufta. It means falsification of statistics to meet the diktats of unaccountable power.

The same forces afflict those who can’t find work. They must now contend, alongside the other humiliations of unemployment, with a whole new level of snooping and monitoring. All this, Verhaeghe points out, is fundamental to the neoliberal model, which everywhere insists on comparison, evaluation and quantification. We find ourselves technically free but powerless. Whether in work or out of work, we must live by the same rules or perish. All the major political parties promote them, so we have no political power either. In the name of autonomy and freedom we have ended up controlled by a grinding, faceless bureaucracy.

These shifts have been accompanied, Verhaeghe writes, by a spectacular rise in certain psychiatric conditions: self-harm, eating disorders, depression and personality disorders.

Of the personality disorders, the most common are performance anxiety and social phobia: both of which reflect a fear of other people, who are perceived as both evaluators and competitors – the only roles for society that market fundamentalism admits. Depression and loneliness plague us.

The infantilising diktats of the workplace destroy our self-respect. Those who end up at the bottom of the pile are assailed by guilt and shame. The self-attribution fallacy cuts both ways: just as we congratulate ourselves for our success, we blame ourselves for our failure, even if we have little to do with it.

So, if you don’t fit in, if you feel at odds with the world, if your identity is troubled and frayed, if you feel lost and ashamed – it could be because you have retained the human values you were supposed to have discarded. You are a deviant. Be proud.

Saqlain Mushtaq explains the doosra

Shirin Sadikot for BCCI

The Pakistani legend presents a deep and insightful technical analysis of the delivery

The biggest inventions and discoveries are a direct result of man’s curiosity. Add persistence and skill to the mix and voila! A Eureka moment is born.

Often talking to inventors about their invention is like talking to a mother about her new-born baby. They are possessive, proud and overly protective.

We, at BCCI.TV, spoke to one an inventor. We got Saqlain Mushtaq to talk about the doosra. And to our delight, he spoke about his patent delivery in a manner that was more erudite than motherly.

The legendary Pakistani off-spinner explained the tricks of his most famous trade with a deep insight and dwelt into the technicalities of the delivery that brought him and Pakistan many a jubilant moments on the cricket field.

How and when did you develop the doosra?

Sport was in my family – my grandfather played kabaddi, my father played hockey and my brother was into cricket. The place where I was born didn’t have any parks or grounds to play on and the streets were too narrow. So, as a kid I played cricket with my brother on the terrace of our house. The surface was extremely flat and I used to play with table tennis ball. I watched the likes of Imran Khan, Sarfaraz Nawaz and Abdul Qadir and listened to the radio commentary intently. The names of great batsmen, fast bowlers and spinners went into my ears and when I heard of their exploits I told myself, ‘even I want to do something special’. My family was very spiritual and religious. They asked me to pray to god, and I did, whenever I could. I knew how to bowl leg-spin, off-spin, flipper, arm-ball, etc. But I was in search for something new. I was determined to have something that nobody had. I kept trying different things and that’s how the doosra was developed. It began with the table tennis ball, then tennis ball and cricket ball.

What is the key to bowling the doosra without any change in the action?
My grip was so good that all I had to do was change the pressure I put with a particular finger. When I pressed the index and middle fingers on the ball, it was off-spin and for doosra the pressure was applied by the index and ring fingers. There were other things like locking the wrist and the use of shoulder. The use of glute and calf muscles and the foot position had to be right too. For an off-spinner there are various methods – first is to roll the finger over the ball, second is to roll and then hit the wrist and then to roll the finger, hit the wrist as well as the shoulder. For doosra, you don’t roll the fingers on the ball; just press against it, lock the wrist and apply your shoulder. All these subtle conscious changes in using different parts of the body in different ways is the key in ensuring there is no visible change in the action.

How difficult is it? Not many have been able to do it.
It needs a lot of practice and the right kind of practice. You need to train your mind in such a way that you are aware of the smallest movement of every muscle in your body. They key is to concentrate on exactly the muscle you want to move. In the gym the trainer always says that when you’re working on your biceps, look at them so you know you are concentrating on those muscles. I tell the same to the kids who come to my academy – be conscious of all the parts of your body you are using and how you are using them.

Spinners have to have a very good understanding with the wicketkeeper. How big a role did Moin Khan play in your success as a spinner?
If a bowler doesn’t have good understanding with the keeper and captain, he will miss out on a lot. When their minds are synced with yours, they will know exactly when you are thinking and planning to do next, and will help you with subtle changes in the field that are key for you to trap the batsman. However, I am of a strong belief that if the keeper and batsman watch the ball perfectly from the hand of the bowler, they can easily make out what ball is about to be bowled. Sometimes the batsman takes his eyes off the ball for a moment or blinks at the crucial time. As bowlers, we play on the mind of the batsman; we try to create doubt and fear in his mind because they act as the dark clouds that keep us from seeing the moon. When the batsman is in doubt about something or is scared of the bowler, he will not watch the ball properly. That’s when we strike. It’s all about how you watch the ball. All the great batsmen watch the ball in a completely different way. When I bowled at one of them, I knew he knows exactly what I was going to bowl. But then I told myself, ‘he is a batsman and he will make a mistake at some point’. With that belief I continued to back myself.

Did you both use any sign or code word to let him know the next ball is the doosra?
We used to divide responsibilities. I would tell Moin bhai, ‘keep an eye on his (the batsman’s) feet and tell me whether he is moving away sideways, taking a long stride forward or goes deep into the crease’. Depending on that I would change my line and length. There is a story behind how the doosra became so famous. Sometimes, I used to bowl the delivery at the wrong time and wrong place. So, Moin bhai used to tell me, ‘sometimes, when I signal you to not bowl it, don’t, and when bowl when I ask you to, because with my experience I can tell what the batsman is thinking and that might help you’. There are so many wickets that I got because of him. So, he often screamed, ‘doosra abhi karna hai (bowl the other one now)’ or ‘doosra abhi nahi karna hai (don’t bowl the other one)’. The commentators picked it up from the stump mic and that’s how it got its name.

Did you use the doosra more as a wicket taking ball or to set the batsman up for the following ball?
It depended on the situation, pitch and the batsman. Sometimes I used it as a wicket-taking ball and at others I would bowl one doosra and then bowl a series of off-spinners, making the batsman wait for the other one. In the nets I ensured that I practiced the doosra like a stock ball, an attacking option and as a surprise weapon. The same went for the off-spinner and the arm-ball. At times, you go in with the plan of bowling off-spin but the batsman is playing in a different way and you have to change your strategy at the last moment. You never know in what way you have to use which delivery and so I was prepared to use every ball in every situation.

Can you name three batsman who picked it the best?
It won’t be fair to pick only three batsmen and leave the others out who played it equally well. So, I’ll mention 2-3 names from each country.

From India, Sachin, Dravid, Ganguly, Laxman and Azharuddin played it the best. I always felt that they knew everything that I was trying to do and bowl at them. From Sri Lanka it was Aravinda de Silva and Ranatunga. I didn’t play much against Sangakkara and Mahela but I got the impression that they too played it well. From West Indies, Brian Lara and Carl Hooper were good. Steve Waugh, Mark Waugh, Gilchrist and Darren Lehmann were the Aussies who picked it well. Jacques Kallis was really good and so was England’s Graeme Ford. During the domestic matches in Pakistan, Inzamam, Salim Malik, Mohammad Yusuf and Younis Khan were good.

Is there any wicket in particular you took with the doosra that you cherish or remember vividly?
The doosra has brought me many wickets but the importance of the wicket in the context of the game is what makes it special. In that regards, I will never forget Sachin’s wicket in the 1999 Chennai Test. There were a lot of emotions attached to that scalp and it practically changed the game in our favour. I will cherish that wicket till my last breath. Then there is Damien Martin’s wicket in a Natwest ODI at Trent Bridge in 2001-02. The ball spun like a leg-spinner and he was caught at first slip. I got Gilchrist in the same match when he was in a murderous mood.
  
What is your opinion on the 15 degree rule?
If the ICC has deemed someone’s action clean, there should not be any further questions raised about him. There was under-arm bowling, eight-ball over and various other rules that have now been changed. The game keeps evolving and rules are changed accordingly. So, if someone is playing within the boundaries of the current rules, he is fine. 

After you, have you seen any bowler who has perfect the art of bowling doosra without a change in action?
Muralitharan was very good at it and so was Harbhajan Singh. Shoaib Malik bowled it too in the beginning. Currently I think Saeed Ajmal is the best at bowling the doosra.

What is your take on R Ashwin?
I first watched him really closely during this year’s World Twenty20 when I was a coach with West Indies. Before that, there was this Asia Cup match between India and Pakistan where Shahid Afridi hit him for two sixes in the last over and won the game. People crucified Ashwin for that over but it was pure luck. Afridi was lucky and he won a lottery in that he didn’t even time one of them properly and still got six runs for it. Also, all the pressure was on Ashwin. Afridi had nothing to lose; he had come in with a do or die mindset. Ashwin copped the negativities despite no fault of his. And after that, the way he came back and bowled in the World Twenty20, showed the strength of his character. Yes, to be able to spin the ball is an important skill. But according to me it is only 10-15 percent of the bowler’s worth. The real game comes from within the person, his mind and heart. And the way he bowled right through that tournament, Ashwin showed he is the real deal. I think he is a wonderful bowler.

For Scotland, the independence debate is about more than the economy, stupid

Salmond and Darling will batter viewers with data in Tuesday’s TV debate, but in the end the heart will outweigh the wallet

• 
• • Chris Huhne
  • The Guardian, Sunday 3 August 2014 19.19 BST

A report from the Scottish government suggested Scots would be £1,000 a year better with independence, but a UK Treasury report suggested the opposite. Photograph: Ken Jack/Demotix/Corbis

In Scotland, if you doubted the stakes, wait for Tuesday’s ­televised independence debate between Alistair Darling and Alex ­Salmond. The race remains close, and is likely to get closer. This weekend’s Survation poll put “no” ahead by just 6%. That is uncannily close to the polls six weeks before the Quebec referendum in 1995, which the Canadian federalists won by a nail-biting 1.2%.

The downside of these two TV champions for their cause is that they are both so economic: the former UK chancellor of the exchequer against the former Royal Bank of Scotland oil economist (and a good one). The danger, as a non-economist Treasury minister once said after a mandarin’s briefing, is that the viewers will be just as confused at the end – but at a higher level.

I have been reading the Scotsman – an excellent paper – and the Glasgow Herald day after day, which has given me a sympathy for Scottish voters who must be punch-drunk from rival, largely economic claims about the future. The two campaigns recently excelled themselves by producing on the same day apparently authoritative assessments that diametrically contradicted each other.

For the unionists, a UK Treasury-sponsored report suggested that each Scot would be £1,400 a year better off in the union. For the nationalists, another report from the Scottish government suggested that Scots would be £1,000 a year better off outside it. This is bemusing enough for anyone with a background in ­economics, let alone anyone without one. It is also largely irrelevant. Both sides are deploying spurious precision for economic issues that are largely unknowable in the current state of economics.

In one of my past lives, I used to assess the strength and risks of different economies for potential international investors. “Sovereign risk”, as it is called, is an art, not a science. Politics matters as much as economics, and big or small size has both advantages and disadvantages. Scotland’s population, at 5.5 million, is similar to the 5.6 million in Denmark – a perfectly respectably sized nation that has proved to be a rich success for years. The upside of being the size of Denmark, as opposed to the size of the UK or France, is that you can be nimble in reaction to global economic shocks and opportunities. The state can help businesses adjust and respond. All the key players can meet up and reach consensus in a reasonably sized room.

This helps. Of the 10 most prosperous nations on Earth, measured in the most effective manner by the World Bank’s national income per head allowing for purchasing power, only the US is big. The next biggest countries are Sweden (9.5 million people), Switzerland (8 million), Denmark and Norway (5 million). Germany comes in at 13th, France 18th and the UK 21st.

If we take culturally similar countries that share a language, small usually trumps big. Irish income per head is now 0.5% higher than the UK’s, even after profits have been paid to foreign investors. Austria is 0.3% ahead of Germany, and Belgium is 8.7% ahead of France. One exception is that Canada is slightly poorer than the big US.

The major disadvantage of small size is that you can be buffeted by global shocks if you specialise in particular industries. Finland was hit by the collapse of the Soviet Union, because it exported so much there. Iceland and ­Ireland were particularly badly hit by the banking crisis. Big countries are naturally more diversified, and therefore less vulnerable to shocks.

If the Scots vote for independence, there may be some transitional costs where there are economies of scale with the UK – embassies and so forth. I cannot see how the Bank of England could be lender of last resort to Scottish banks after independence, so there may be losses as financial services companies prefer a London regulator and backer. This was the experience with Quebec, where the fear of independence drove Montreal-based insurers to Toronto. But the big picture suggests that these will be small and short-term effects.

Natural resources such as oil and gas matter much less than both Salmond and Darling will pretend. The truth is that rich countries do well because of their human skills and ingenuity, not their resource windfalls. Look at Switzerland. On education, Scotland’s performance in the OECD international tests of student achievement is a little better than England for reading and maths, and a little worse for science.

If Scotland goes, it will be in everyone’s interest to have a “velvet divorce”, as the separation of the Czech Republic and Slovakia was described. A nasty and messy separation would damage both sides. London will want early certainty, and for Scotland to be an EU member alongside the rest of the UK. The result on 18 September may rewrite history, but not geography. We will all still share the same island. Their mess will be ours, both sides of the border. So we will all have an interest not to make a mess.

If Scotland stays, as I hope it will, the UK will never be the same again. More fiscal powers – including the power to borrow – will provide a new impetus to decentralisation, not just to Edinburgh but to Cardiff, Manchester, Leeds and Newcastle. We will need a new constitutional settlement, and new ways, as all federal states enjoy, of legally settling differences between levels of government. These are challenges already met and mastered in Canada, Australia and elsewhere.

The main motive, if Scots opt for independence, will be their desire to shake off the incubus of English conservatism. The natural centre of gravity of Scottish politics will be more leftwing than that of the UK. Scotland could be a successful, liberal-minded and social democratic nation on the Scandinavian model. Nothing wrong with that, except for English progressives who will have to contend with a centre of gravity that has moved to the right. For England and Wales, politics will adjust. The Labour party would become more rightwing to ensure a competitive system.

In the end, it seems to me offensive on the part of both sides in the debate to concentrate so slavishly on the economics, when realistically the economic outlook cannot and should not be decisive. It is as if they have both leased their campaigns, in the old adage, to people who know the price of everything and the value of nothing. It is the heart that will decide the future of our island, not the pocketbook. That is surely right.

Cronyism British Style - A depressingly British tale of friends in high places

From Ofsted and the BBC to the Lords, there’s a strong whiff of cronyism. When will we have the courage to challenge it?

• 
• • Zoe Williams
  • The Guardian, Monday 4 August 2014

Illustration by Andrzej Krauze

One crony is just a crony; it doesn’t – by my reckoning – become an “ism” until there are three. If the chairmanship of the BBC Trust hadn’t come up at the same time as the chiefdom of Ofsted, and if those two things weren’t playing out in the foreground of the peerage announcements to come this week, it might be OK, and the whole of public life wouldn’t look like it could all be such an embarrassing stitch-up. Unfortunately, the three events have come together. David Hoare is the new chief of Ofsted. Seb Coe is not the new head of the BBC Trust, but not for want of begging by the government, which changed the job requirement to make it more appealing to him. Karren Brady and Stuart Rose are reported to be lined up for ennoblement.

In fairness, appointments to the House of Lords are at least meant to be political, even if they shouldn’t, strictly speaking, be distributed on the basis of wealth. The other two posts, however, are supposed to be appointed impartially, with the emphasis on fitness for the post.

So what is David Hoare’s fitness? He is a trustee of AET academies, which is the largest chain, and also one of the worst – in the bottom quarter for results, both its disadvantaged and non-disadvantaged pupils achieving below-average GCSEs. Five schools in the chain had “unacceptable standards”, according to ministers earlier this year, though Ofsted’s verdict, due to be published last week, has been delayed. Not to worry. The other 72 schools may well have acceptable features. The Department for Education can’t see what all the fuss is about, since Hoare appears to be far less unpopular and less irrelevantly qualified than its other candidate, Carphone Warehouse founder (and Tory donor) David Ross.

For me, the main problem isn’t Ross’s relationship with the Conservative party, or even the alleged tax-avoiding practices of Ross and Hoare’s current or past business interests, though I must admit I’m not thrilled to see the highest ranks of public life wedged with people who don’t appear to understand the point of tax. No, worse than any of that is the assumption of the DfE that almost anybody will be better at running education than someone with experience of teaching.

The entry point for a significant post in the academies system is that you should never have set foot in a state classroom. God forbid that you should ever have stood at the front of one, and taught anything to anyone. In years to come, we will look back in wonder at this period, when government worshipped at the feet of industry so fervently that it thought its titans could do anything. But right now, we’re all trapped in the bowels of government delusion, and won’t see the light until Alan Sugar has been appointed chancellor of Cambridge University and Richard Branson is chief medical officer.

These are two sides of the same coin, whether you’re talking about politicians fawning over business leaders, or business leaders casting cash – or the pearls of their acumen – towards politicians. You’d think we’d be used to it, since New Labour was beset by rows such as these. Whether it looks like corruption or cronyism – is it actively bent, or does it merely stink? – depends a lot on whose side is doing the crony recruitment. But this is surely a rare point of convergence between the Morning Star and the Daily Mail: it doesn’t look very transparent or objective when politicians recruit their allies.

They give us breadheads, to run our institutions of oversight, but they also give us circuses: this is the only plausible explanation for the desperate bid to appoint Seb Coe as chair of the BBC Trust. He is a Tory and a national treasure, a man it is impossible to dislike, a recognisable face and acute businessman whose achievements are uncomplicated and demonstrable. He can run really fast, OK? In these turbulent times for the BBC, as its enemies mass on the borders of its charter (up for renewal in 2016) calling for its disintegration, that’s what we need at the helm, clearly. A man who can run incredibly fast.

In the hubbub around the job description having been rewritten to suit Coe, you may have missed the details of that rewrite: it was to reduce the time commitment that the head of the trust would have to make. This said it all about the process – first, that nobody making the appointment was really taking seriously how significant it was, and second, that Coe didn’t really want to do it. He has now come out and rejected it, as apparently have Patience Wheatcroft, Dame Marjorie Scardino, Sir Howard Stringer and Sarah Hogg.

Why candidates should be snatching their hats so energetically out of the ring is open to question. Former Labour culture secretary Tessa Jowell maintains they are put off by the high level of political meddling, but this seems to be an unlikely deterrent for those who agree with the meddlers. I can well imagine, however, that a candidate of any leaning might be put off by the sheer bungling frivolity, the sight of a government desperately grappling for a household name, a bit of borrowed popularity. Anyway, the shortlist is, for today at least, back to one: Nick Prettejohn, City grandee and former adviser to George Osborne. The circus said no, and we’re back to the breadhead.

The phrase “City grandee” cheered me up, however: remember Royal Mail, and remember that it could be worse. They didn’t have to just give these posts to their associates; they could have sold them.