A Strong Labour movement Raises everyone’s Living Standards

Owen Jones in The Guardian

Respect for tradition, we are told, underpins the Conservative party. But there’s one tradition for which it has unwavering contempt – strike action: a part of our culture and heritage it has ferociously and instinctively demonised as an antisocial attack on the general public. Tories are known to extol the virtues of rugged individualism, but it seems the collective suddenly matters when industrial action is declared. Then, it seems, society – which in previous Tory eras was doubted to even exist – becomes a totem to be protected from sinister forces, from a malign and externalised striking rabble.

Strikes bring inconvenience. Of course they do. They disrupt our normal life, our plans, our expectations. But the concentrated attempt to stigmatise the very notion of the strike is something that must be resisted. The strike – and the threat of striking – should be celebrated precisely because it underpins many rights and freedoms we now take for granted. Union struggles in the 19th century played a pivotal role in shortening the working day, and in the 20th century, in creating the weekend. In the postwar heyday of union power, they drove up incomes. Strikes are a profound social good.

Yet how little this argument is heard. Anti-union sentiment is profoundly embedded in our political culture. When the Tory chairman, Nadhim Zahawi, suggested on national television that the upcoming nurses’ strike would aid Vladimir Putin by worsening inflation in the west, it was yet another crude illustration of this very British phenomenon, echoing Margaret Thatcher’s denunciation of striking miners as the “enemy within” in the 1980s. This hostility has a long pedigree and, historically at least, the Tories have been known to be candid about their real intentions.

RMT picket at Slough railway station, 8 October 2022. Photograph: Maureen McLean/Rex/Shutterstock

As the 20th century dawned, the Tories defended a legal ruling making unions financially liable for profits lost to strikes, leading the Conservative prime minister Stanley Baldwin to later confess: “The Conservatives can’t talk of class war. They started it.” In 1926, they introduced a raft of anti-union laws in the aftermath of the general strike, including the banning of solidarity industrial action.

But while unions were hobbled in the 1930s, a spirit of collectivism nurtured by wartime sacrifice helped their rebirth. The three-decade social democratic consensus established by Clement Attlee’s Labour government led the Trades Union Congress in 1968 to boast that it had grown from a “small debating assembly” into a body that shared “in the making of government policies, taking part in administering major social services and meeting on equal terms with the spokesmen of the nation’s employers”. This was the era in which Britain enjoyed its highest ever sustained period of economic growth, which – thanks in part to strong unions – was more equitably distributed, boosting the pay of ordinary workers.

When the oil shock of the 1970s sent prices surging, unions mobilised in an effort to match wages with the cost of living. The grand climax – the winter of discontent – was successfully spun by Thatcher to label unions as national bogeyman for a generation. Her successors took up that framing as well. When Tony Blair became prime minister in 1997, he promised that his government would “leave British law the most restrictive on trade unions in the western world”. And David Cameron assailed Ed Miliband as “taking his script from the trade unions”, and turned the screw further, with even more restrictive laws.

But today this anti-union approach jars with political reality. One poll has suggested that nearly six in 10 voters back the nurses’ strike, and another found that more people backed the rail strike than opposed it. After an unprecedented fall in living standards, the default position of millions whose pay packets are shrivelling in real terms has become “well, fair play to them, at least someone is taking a stand”.

While earlier generations of Tories may have used the language of class warfare openly, their modern cohort is savvier. They seek to isolate striking workers from the wider public, portraying them as somehow separate from society at large. Rishi Sunak denounces strikers as a threat to “hardworking families”, as if nurses, paramedics or transport workers are excluded from that category. But this attempt to separate striking workers from society at large collides with the reality people see every day. The withdrawal of strikers’ labour is so noticeable precisely because of how central they are to our way of life. Rather than a middle-finger salute at the general public, it is one part of society crying for help from another.

 

Despite all the talk of monstrous disruption, for most the real inconvenience is struggling to pay bills and feed their children, rather than the irritation of a postponed train journey. Real wages are projected to be lower in 2026 than they were in 2008.

Indeed, a fundamental reason for wages being so low and conditions so poor in the UK is because of the dilution of union power. According to one study, the “changes in bargaining power” suffered by unions explains half of the decline in the share of the economy going to wages over four decades in several rich countries, including Britain. Rather than union action inconveniencing everybody else, the decline of unions has dragged down the wages of non-unionised workers, too, according to a US study. A strong labour movement, in other words, brings up everyone’s living standards.

A strike, then, isn’t antisocial behaviour, on a collision course with the interests of the wider public. By neutering the threat of strike action with authoritarian laws, the Tories have succeeded only in weakening a mechanism with a proven record in raising the living standards of all workers. Despite the mythology, no one goes on strike on a whim. A worker forfeiting a day’s pay isn’t just a sacrifice for the sake of their own interests, it’s a gamble and a sacrifice. Indeed, one of the government’s fears is that a victory for nurses or railway workerswould embolden the pay claims of other workers – an anxiety that is well founded.

Union membership should be honoured not just as a democratic right, but as a cornerstone of collective prosperity. Even many union sympathisers have retreated from such an argument, instead blaming bosses and government for any regretful breakdown in industrial relations. But to strike isn’t a sin, or antisocial or an act of mendacity: it’s a key to a society less beset by injustice than our own.

Is James Andersen an Alan Sked of English cricket?

Girish Menon

You might wonder what is the relationship between James Andersen the cricketer and Dr. Alan Sked the original founder of the UK Independence Party (UKIP)?  Prima facie, not a lot; one is a cricketer with not much connection with academia and the other is a tenured historian at the London School of Economics. But look closer and you can find both of them living in the past.

I attended Dr. Sked’s history lectures many moons ago. He was a fine orator and I fondly remember him after so many years, His pet theme was the greatness of the British Empire and the downward spiral of the UK since World War II especially with the increasing integration of erstwhile enemies into the European Union. At one of our social do’s we had the following conversation:

‘Alan, the UK needs a clock that rotates backwards’

‘Why?’ he asked

‘Because you seem to be forever living in the past’

‘Girish, do you know who you are talking to? I will be marking your papers in the summer’

‘Alan I am not from colonial India, I am from a more confident India’….

I had been out of touch with Dr. Sked until his proposal to start a UKIP of the left – however this proposal did not see the light of day at least not in the form Dr. Sked envisaged. Today's early morning reverie however linked Dr. Sked with James Andersen a great English bowler. Andersen, whose career appears fast fading, criticised the Indian captain Virat Kohli on the day he scored 235 runs. Kohli’s over 600 runs in four test matches has Andersen unimpressed. He suggested that Kohli is not so much an improved batsman, as a batsman playing in conditions that do not exploit his "technical deficiencies".

"I'm not sure he's changed," Anderson said. "I just think any technical deficiencies he's got aren't in play out here. The wickets just take that out of the equation.

"We had success against him in England, but the pace of the pitches over here just take any flaws he has out of the equation. There's not that pace in the wicket to get the nicks, like we did against him in England with a bit more movement. Pitches like this suit him down to the ground.”

"When that's not there, he's very much suited to playing in these conditions. He's a very good player of spin and if you're not bang on the money and don't take your chances, he'll punish you. We tried to stay patient against him, but he just waits and waits and waits. He just played really well."

Andersen, like Dr. Sked, loves to invoke the past when he does not wish to deal with the current reality. Virat Kohli may indeed fail on his next trip to England in 2018 on England’s doctored pitches. But Andersen could be a little less churlish, live in the present and share some of the Yuletide spirit.

George Soros on the consequences of Brexit

George Soros in The Guardian

David Cameron, along with the Treasury, the Bank of England, the International Monetary Fund and others have been attacked by the leave campaign for exaggerating the economic risks of Brexit. This criticism has been widely accepted by the British media and many financial analysts. As a result, British voters are now grossly underestimating the true costs of leaving.

Too many believe that a vote to leave the EU will have no effect on their personal financial position. This is wishful thinking. It would have at least one very clear and immediate effect that will touch every household: the value of the pound would decline precipitously. It would also have an immediate and dramatic impact on financial markets, investment, prices and jobs.

As opinion polls on the referendum result fluctuate, I want to offer a clear set of facts, based on my six decades of experience in financial markets, to help voters understand the very real consequences of a vote to leave the EU.

The Bank of England, the Institute for Fiscal Studies and the IMF have assessed the long-term economic consequences of Brexit. They suggest an income loss of £3,000 to £5,000 annually per household – once the British economy settles down to its new steady-state five years or so after Brexit. But there are some more immediate financial consequences that have hardly been mentioned in the referendum debate.

To start off, sterling is almost certain to fall steeply and quickly if there is a vote to leave– even more so after yesterday’s rebound as markets reacted to the shift in opinion polls towards remain. I would expect this devaluation to be bigger and more disruptive than the 15% devaluation that occurred in September 1992, when I was fortunate enough to make a substantial profit for my hedge fund investors, at the expense of the Bank of England and the British government.

It is reasonable to assume, given the expectations implied by the market pricing at present, that after a Brexit vote the pound would fall by at least 15% and possibly more than 20%, from its present level of $1.46 to below $1.15 (which would be between 25% and 30% below its pre-referendum trading range of $1.50 to $1.60). If sterling fell to this level, then ironically one pound would be worth about one euro – a method of “joining the euro” that nobody in Britain would want.

Brexiters seem to recognise that a sharp devaluation would be almost inevitable after Brexit, but argue that this would be healthy, despite the big losses of purchasing power for British households. In 1992 the devaluation actually proved very helpful to the British economy, and subsequently I was even praised for my role in helping to bring it about.

But I don’t think the 1992 experience would be repeated. That devaluation was healthy because the government was relieved of its obligation to “defend” an overvalued pound with damagingly high interest rates after the breakdown of the exchange rate mechanism. This time, a large devaluation would be much less benign than in 1992, for at least three reasons.

First, the Bank of England would not cut interest rates after a Brexit devaluation (as it did in 1992 and also after the large devaluation of 2008) because interest rates are already at the lowest level compatible with the stability of British banks. That, incidentally, is another reason to worry about Brexit. For if a fall in house prices and loss of jobs causes a recession after Brexit, as is likely, there will be very little that monetary policy can do to stimulate the economy and counteract the consequent loss of demand.

Second, the UK now has a very large current account deficit – much larger, relatively, than in 1992 or 2008. In fact Britain is more dependent than at any time in history on inflows of foreign capital. As the governor of the Bank of England Mark Carney said, Britain “depends on the kindness of strangers”. The devaluations of 1992 and 2008 encouraged greater capital inflows, especially into residential and commercial property, but also into manufacturing investments. But after Brexit, the capital flows would almost certainly move the other way, especially during the two-year period of uncertainty while Britain negotiates its terms of divorce with a region that has always been – and presumably will remain – its biggest trading and investment partner.

Third, a post-Brexit devaluation is unlikely to produce the improvement in manufacturing exports seen after 1992, because trading conditions would be too uncertain for British businesses to undertake new investments, hire more workers or otherwise add to export capacity.

For all these reasons I believe the devaluation this time would be more like the one in 1967, when Harold Wilson famously declared that “the pound in your pocket has not been devalued”, but the British people disagreed with him, quickly noticing that the cost of imports and foreign holidays were rising sharply and that their true living standards were going down. Meanwhile financial speculators, back then called the Gnomes of Zurich, were making large profits at Britain’s expense.

Today, there are speculative forces in the markets much bigger and more powerful. And they will be eager to exploit any miscalculations by the British government or British voters. A vote for Brexit would make some people very rich – but most voters considerably poorer.

I want people to know what the consequences of leaving the EU would be before they cast their votes, rather than after. A vote to leave could see the week end with a Black Friday, and serious consequences for ordinary people.

The real benefit cheats are the employers who are milking the system

In the last year, Tesco has cost the Treasury £364m in pay-rate supplements. Photograph: Carl Court/AFP/Getty


Deborah Orr in The Guardian


I really don’t know why the government is making such heavy weather of cutting £12bn off the benefits bill. That sum, and much more, could be cut at the stroke of a pen – though it would mean that the government would have to put its money where its mouth is and make it a legal requirement for employers to pay the living wage. If a company really can’t afford to, then it’s the company that should be applying for supplements, not the people who work for it.

Cameron wants to curb in-work benefits. No wonder: just £8bn on benefits goes to the unemployed, while an estimated £76bn, according to James Ferguson of Money Week, goes to people who are working. The government says this shouldn’t be happening. Cameron insists employers should be paying wages people can live on – which, funnily enough, is the sort of thing unions say, although they no longer have any power to make it happen.

It’s what Labour says, too, now the party is out of power. When it was in power, it avoided confrontation with employers offering poverty wages, and with the unions, by kindly offering to make up the difference between the minimum wage and a living wage via the benefits system.

It would be funny if it wasn’t so sad. The Tories excoriate Labour because Labour accepted the Conservative idea that employers should be freed from the burden of social responsibility. Labour spent a lot of money on protecting employers from such irksome duties. The Conservatives still don’t want to impose such irksome duties, but don’t want to stump up for the hefty bill that ensues from failing to do so either.

Just one of the woeful consequences of Labour’s drive to support employers by supplementing employees is that it makes the figures look like the Department of Work and Pensions is showering taxpayers’ money on the feckless, when it is actually showering taxpayers’ money on businesses. Employing someone has come to be seen as such a noble pursuit that businesses are paid to do it. Businesses don’t, of course, complain that this interferes with the free market. Money spent supplementing wages should be coming from the Business and Enterprise budget, with companies vetted to assess whether they are justified in offering pay below the living wage. Those who are can be offered loans to cover the difference, repayable in much the same manner as student tuition fees. They are hiring staff to grow their own businesses, after all. Such entrepreneurial risk-taking is seen as admirable. But when the taxpayer is taking on so much of the cost, and the benefit-receiving employee is getting so much of the blame, there’s really only sheer nerve and hypocrisy left to be admired.

Businesses, of course, would hate having to admit that they expect the state to prop up their poverty wages. They despise “red tape”, after all. Although that doesn’t stop them employing individuals who must submit themselves and their families to miles of red tape and minute government scrutiny because their wages aren’t enough to live on.

Work in the retail sector is notoriously badly paid, so it should be no surprise that around £11bn in in-work benefit is paid each year to people working in retail. Employees at Next receive more money in pay-rate supplements than the company pays in tax (about £2,087 per low-paid worker). In the last year, Tesco has cost the Treasury £364m in pay-rate supplements. Cameron talks about dysfunctional merry-go-rounds of tax and spend. But the culprits aren’t ordinary people scraping by. The culprits are employers milking the system.

The in-work benefits system also encourages businesses to employ lots of people part-time, rather than fewer people full-time. A couple has to work 24 hours a week to qualify for in-work benefits, and a single person 16 hours. The more part-time people you employ, the more the government is supplementing your payroll, and the easier it is to get competent staff on the cheap.

Much of the reduction in unemployment seen over the last couple of years is because people are taking part-time work when they would prefer full-time work. The government may trumpet the decline in unemployment. But its complaints about the cost of in-work benefits are an acknowledgement that the Department of Work and Pensions is paying out a lot of cash to make that happen.

A system that minimises costs while maximising profits is bound to result in a mismatch between what people earn and what it costs them to live. This tendency can be seen most clearly in the housing market. In 2009-10,according to House of Commons figures, 478,000 people with jobs claimed housing benefit, at a cost of £2.2bn. By 2014-15, it was 962,000 and £4.6bn, and it’s set to continue rising if things don’t change. What things?

It’s endlessly said by everybody that the social housing supply has to increase. But no one seems willing to take their valuable piece of land and render it much less valuable by building social housing on it, when they could keep it as an asset or sell it to private developers instead. Private landlords are the obvious beneficiaries.

But again it’s the person claiming the housing benefit that is seen as the problem, not the person who wants the “market rate” when the market isn’t paying it. Again, the person making the profit gets the benefit, rather than the person who doesn’t have enough income to put a roof over his head. Just as it’s time to restrict state benefits paid to employers via employees, it’s time to restrict benefits paid to landlords via tenants.

The Conservatives, I’m afraid, seem to do nothing at all in government except complain that Labour spent too much money on mitigating the effects of the previous Conservative government’s policies. Employers are allowed to set wages and landlords allowed to set rents without regard to the amount of money people have to live on. The least the state can do is be honest about the amount of state money that is spent on defending the right to make profits, instead of blaming the hapless citizens from whom the profit is wrung.

How to cohabit (and live to tell the tale): 10 essential commandments

Emma Jane Unsworth in The Guardian

Cohabiting is about accepting each other as human beings with human bodies. As the bumper sticker almost says: “Stuff Happens.” Illustration: Anna Parini

Moving in with someone can do many things for a relationship. It’s a way of ramping up the commitment and lowering living costs. It means you get to enjoy more time in each other’s company while simultaneously doubling your daily shirt-and-sock options. It’s also that thing you often do when you reach a certain point, and, while I’m generally against things we do simply because we feel we should, I can’t deny that sooner or later, in any relationship, I find myself wondering about living together.

I’ve just moved in with a man for the fourth time in 15 years (different men), and there’s a lot I’m going to do differently this time, because there’s a lot I’ve learned. So in the spirit of sharing, I’ve developed the following set of handy rules. Behold, my Ten Commandments for Cohabitation.

1 Thou Shalt Start With A Blank Canvas

As the saying goes, there’s no accounting for taste. That may be true, but it’s important that you both have an equal chance to inflict your aesthetics upon a place. Fair’s fair. It’s not good for your psychology, or the power dynamics of your relationship, to slot yourself around someone else’s stuff and, by proxy, their past. So even if you’re moving into your paramour’s place, gut it, decor-wise, and start from scratch – together. From then on, it’s about negotiation, tolerance and compromise.

Example: my boyfriend likes crows. One time I walked into the bedroom to find a crow cushion on the pillow so realistic that it looked like an actual dead crow. I took a photo to put on Instagram, and then reacted with an almighty shriek.

Compromise: the crow cushion doesn’t go on the bed any more, and we continue to have sex.

2 Thou Shalt Divvy Up The Chores, Somehow

An ex told me that he found tidiness as oppressive as messiness. Nice try, huh. But it’s all too easy to forget whose turn it is to clean the hob and, unless you’ve got a dusting fetish, there’s nothing erotic about Mr Muscle.

If you can possibly afford to, splash out on a cleaner. I’d go so far as to say it’s worth two bottles of wine a fortnight, and that’s not something I would say lightly. The main peril of this, if you’re working class, is guilt – and guilt is even less erotic than Mr Muscle.

3 Thou Shalt Neither Repress Nor Celebrate Thy Bodily Functions

I’m sorry to include this – I know there are recipes in here and you’re halfway through your brunch, but this is a crucial one. Catherine Zeta-Jones once cited the secret to a long-term relationship as “separate bathrooms” (I know, they split – but they’re back together!). Not an option for the non-Hollywood stars among us, alas. But maybe it’s also about accepting each other as human beings with human bodies. As the bumper sticker almost says: “Stuff Happens”.

A friend of mine overshot it when she took her boyfriend of nine months to stay in a luxury shepherd’s hut for a weekend, as a “living together practice run”. I think we can all see where this one is going. The toilet was a funnel, a metre or so from the bed, behind a curtain. They split soon after. Another friend went to the doctor’s with chronic stomachache a few weeks after moving in with her man, only to be told it was because she was repressing wind.

I’m not saying you have to let it all hang and fly loose, but try to relax. Your body, your home, your air space.

4 Thou Shalt Not Steal… Food

My first experience of living with people that I wasn’t related to (and therefore didn’t expect to fight me at the dinner table) was at university. And it was there, within the walls of my student halls in Liverpool, that I learned one of the harshest lessons about non-familial domesticity. One evening, when I returned to the communal kitchen to retrieve my dinner, I found that someone had stolen my jacket potato from the oven. Then I remembered Susan, scurrying past me in the corridor, looking distinctly uncomfortable as she gripped her hoodie around her midriff, looter-like. Of course she denied it. But I knew she was lying.

And yet, after I’d angrily eaten a neat tin of tuna, I found I could let it go. Furthermore, I felt a deep need to go forth and perform the exact opposite of my natural instinct at that point, which was meanness. These days, I fill the fridge and I don’t count my teabags. I expect anything I leave in the freezer to go, and I don’t care. It actually feels nice. Because meanness doesn’t even make you that much less skint, but what it does make you is miserable.

So I’m grateful to that girl now, for what she taught me. No, really. Get in touch, Susan. Or at least send me a potato

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Emma Jane Unsworth: ‘Tell your partner about their bad habits. The ones they don’t know about. Do it tactfully, but for God’s sake, do it soon.’ Photograph: Michael Thomas Jones for the Guardian

5 Thou Shalt Be Open To New Experiences

In a pressure-cooker space with someone, you can discover life-changing things that make you wonder how you survived without them. My former housemate Eden brought RuPaul’s Drag Race into my life, for which I am truly thankful. I introduced my best friend Alison to pesto with pasta when we lived together at university in the late 90s. As she destroyed the entire bowl, she looked and sounded as if she was having an orgasm – maybe she was. We now look on it as a foundation stone of our friendship, and given the fact she eats it at least once a week now, it’s a source of much pride to me that I was able to give her the gift that keeps on giving. We’ll always have pesto.

6 Thou Shalt Allow Each Other A Few Ludicrous Idiosyncrasies

This again boils down to compromise. My mum vigilantly turns off every single plug socket every night before she goes to bed. I think she once saw an episode of Corrie where a dodgy toaster burned down Sally Webster’s kitchen, and it stayed in her mind. She also unplugs the microwave because someone told her the clock uses up a lot of electricity overnight. I’ve tried to explain that this is simply not true, but not even Google can convince her otherwise.

My dad doesn’t seem to mind her frenzied routine. Nor should he. Because you know what? Everyone’s allowed their minor idiosyncrasies. Everyone is allowed to be ludicrous about one thing, once a day. Even the girl I lived with in my early 20s, who couldn’t find her keys one evening and decided to “lock” the front door by pushing it to and wedging the Henry vacuum cleaner behind it. When I came home, I thought we’d been robbed. Then I saw the vacuum cleaner, and realised I just lived with an idiot. But, you know, so did she, some nights.

7 Thou Shalt Not Inflict Animals Upon Your Beloved

Animals can be a deal-breaker. Allergies aside, some people don’t like the idea of furry creatures around things like food and furniture. I love cats. To me, a house without cats in it feels resonantly sad, but not everyone’s the same. I’m still half-convinced my last attempt at romantic cohabitation ended when I got a cat and it took to urinating on the duvet, generally square on the crotch of whoever was in bed. Morning! It materialised that as well as an unpleasant experience, this triggered bad memories for my then boyfriend, who had once lived with a cat called Moon, who’d systematically terrorised him.

But really: never live with anyone who doesn’t like cats. Those people are suspect and, at the very least, social perverts.


My mother turns off every plug socket before she goes to bed, and the microwave. My dad doesn’t mind – and nor should he

8 Thou Shalt Have A TV

And the internet. My most recent housemate and I tried to do without both for a year, in a bid to “be more productive”. We lasted a month, then we got online (mainly for RuPaul’s Drag Race). Books, I hear you cry! What about books? Well, books are all well and good, until you have a hangover. Then you just need something to look at while you sweat and cry for pizza. Entertainment options other than each other are the key to a happy home on those evenings, or days, when you just want to flop. I also recommend a karaoke machine.

9 Thou Shalt Not Assimilate Resentment

The assimilation of resentment is the death of love. Tell your partner about their bad habits. The ones they don’t know about, I mean. Do it tactfully, but for God’s sake, do it soon.

I have a terrible habit of leaving dirty mugs everywhere; something I only discovered after a man I’d been living with moved out and the mugs began to accumulate on the sink, the toilet, cistern, all of the windowsills – until I ran out of mugs and looked around and saw my awful truth. I called my ex and asked whether he thought I had a mug problem. “Oh, that,” he said. “I guess I just got used to picking them up every day.” “You must have hated me a bit for it, though?” I asked. To which he replied: “Well, I guess I sort of got used to the resentment, too.” (Insert Blaring Relationship Countdown Siren, set at T-minus two months.)

10 Thou Shalt Revolutionise The Meaning Of Romance

Cohabitation brings new meaning to what constitutes romantic behaviour, and you must embrace this, because we’re not getting any younger, and life is short, and love is the greatest, wherever you can find it. You’re not dating any more, and some of the more superficial magic might be gone – but there’s a wealth of possibilities by which you can demonstrate passion and kindness within the confines of your new situation.

Before we said we’d move in together, my boyfriend was staying at my flat and I gave him my keys for the day while I went out to work. My keys were a daily source of woe – identical Yales for a two-lock door; the great Law of Sod meaning I invariably tried the wrong key first, and would stand there, jangling and cursing and disturbing the neighbours. When he returned the keys, he had bought two coloured fobs from the hardware shop on the high street, and put them on. He even gave me an easy way to remember which was which: Blue for Bottom; Gold (yellow) for Top. Now when I open my door it’s a breeze. My everyday is that bit easier. If that’s not true romance, then I don’t know what is .

Mumbai - On the verge of an implosion

Bachi Karkaria in The Guardian

It used to be India’s urban showpiece. Today, its sceptre and crown have fallen down and, in a phase of cynical destruction masquerading as “development”, Mumbai has become a metaphor for urban blight. 

Consider these statistics. Rubbish could be its Mount Vesuvius. Some 7,000 metric tonnes of refuse is spewed out each day. Dumping grounds are choked, yet there is no government-mandated separation or recycling.

Around 7.5 million commuters cram themselves into local trains every day and the fledgling metro and monorail are unlikely to make a perceptible difference in the near future.

There are 700,000 cars on the road and the authorities indirectly encourage private vehicle ownership by adding flyovers and expressways, instead of building or speeding up mass rapid transit systems. Private vehicle numbers have grown by 57% in the past eight years, compared with a 23% increase in public buses.

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There are around 700,000 cars on the roads of Mumbai causing untold congestion, air and noise pollution. Their number has grown by 57% over the past eight years. Photograph: Rafiq Maqbool/AP

Toxic nitric oxide and nitrogen oxide levels stand at 252 microgrammes per cubic metre (mcg/m3) more than three times the safe limit of 80 mcg/m3. Protests against sound pollution fall on deaf ears.

There’s less than 0.03 acres of open space per 1,000 people. The global norm is four; London has a profligate 12.

There are 12.7 million people jammed into the 480 sq km that comprise today’s Greater Mumbai, that’s 20,680 people per sq km. We are the world’s eighth most-populated city – and dying to prove it.

As a consequence, every sixth Mumbaikar lives in a slum. The premium on land was exacerbated by the Rent Control Act of 1947, which wasn’t amended till 1999. Too little, too late. Real estate prices are unreal. It’s cheaper to buy a flat in Manhattan than in Malabar Hill, and you can be sure that shoddy materials will shortchange you in Mumbai.

Considering that housing is the city’s biggest shortfall, it’s ironic that unbridled construction is indisputably its biggest problem. Many villains have been blamed for Mumbai’s descent into urban hell, from mafia dons to impoverished migrants, but for the past three decades the main culprit is the “politician-builder nexus”. 

In 2005, the entire city was held hostage for three days. On 26 July, suburban Mumbai was lashed by 668 mm of rain in just 12 hours. Unwarned commuters and children in school buses were left high, but not dry, as roads and railway tracks disappeared. Slums and BMWs went under the deluge without discernment for their economic standing. It may have been the country’s financial capital, but in the photographs that followed, swaggering Mumbai didn’t look much different from a monsoon-marooned Bihar village.

For this humbling disaster, the finger pointed at that same culprit: the developer and his facilitator, the politician. There was nowhere for the rainwater to go. For decades the concrete army had been allowed to commandeer all open spaces, and illegal encroachments had done the rest. Public parks, verdant hills, salt-pans, school compounds, private garden plots, beaches, mangroves – nothing was spared.

The built environment in Mumbai had increased fourfold since 1925 – and at its fastest rate over the past 30 years – all at the cost of green cover and wetlands.

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Around 7.5 million commuters cram themselves into local trains every day.Photograph: Indranil Mukherjee/AFP/Getty Images

The 2005 deluge brought to light the little-known fact that Mumbai had a river. The Mithi had been reduced to little more than a turgid drain, bubbling with the putrefactions of one of Asia’s largest slums, Dharavi. Why blame its desperate inhabitants when the authorities had built an airport runway and much of the swanky new business district of the Bandra Kurla complex over it?

The traumatising flood was a flash-point. Citizens rose against all the civic atrocities heaped upon them. Why must they suffer such acute and chronic brutalising when Mumbai was the biggest contributor to the national economy? It accounts for 33% of income-tax, 20% of central excise collections, 6.16% of GDP (the largest single contribution in India), 25% of industrial output, 40% of foreign trade and 70% of capital transactions.

Activists demanded it should be administered separately under a chief executive-like head, instead of politicians who siphoned off its wealth to their rural constituencies. The municipal commissioner should be answerable to the elected corporate leaders not, illogically, to the state chief minister. But all this sound and fury receded with the flood waters, and it was soon business as usual.

The unequal war between profiteering and civic wisdom was in unabashed evidence some 20 years before this great flood. An eagerly anticipated shot in the arm turned into a wound that still festers. The cotton mills, on which Mumbai’s original fame and fortunes were built, had been killed off by the prolonged strike of 1982 (and chronic neglect by their owners).

After nearly a decade of legal wrangling, especially over the laid-off workers’ dues, it was decided to redevelop the defunct land – an eye-popping 600 acres in prime south and central Bombay. Recreational spaces, public housing and private enterprise were each to get a one-third share of the total area.

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The 27-storey personal residence of Reliance Industries chairman Mukesh Ambani is named after Antilia, a mythical island in the Atlantic. It has three helicopter pads, underground parking for 160 cars and requires some 600 staff to run. Photograph: Indranil Mukherjee/AFP/Getty

But in 1991, the relevant Development Control rule 58 was unilaterally changed by the chief minister, making only “open” land in the mills eligible for the division. This left the lion’s share to the owners, their builder accomplices and, naturally, the obliging politicians. The city got a mere fifth of its desperately needed windfall.

Instead of the imaginative, integrated development plan drawn up by Charles Correa, the renowned Mumbai-based architect, the former mill-hub of Lalbaug-Parel is a soulless cram of skyscrapers, mall-to-mall carpeting and snarled traffic clashing with the tenements housing the dispossessed worker families.

The opportunity for Mumbai’s redemption was obscenely squandered. The greedy, selfish “development” has worsened, instead of alleviating, its two biggest headaches: housing and traffic.

Now, a new phoenix is projected to rise from the 800 acres of decrepit dockland along the city’s eastern shoreline, again in the prime south. Will the city finally get its life-saving leisure space and affordable housing? Or will it be one more land-grab hastening its death by “development”?

Mumbai waits with more cynicism than hope.

Teaching philosophy to children? It's a great idea

Studying philosophy cultivates doubt without helplessness, and confidence without hubris. I’ve watched children evolve to be more rational and open-minded because of it

• 
• • Michelle Sowey
  • theguardian.com, Wednesday 20 November 2013 22.23 GMT

'I quickly saw that kids, too, have the capacity to enquire philosophically from an early age'. Photograph: Christopher Furlong/Getty Images

Recently I’ve seen a spate of articles along the lines of "what philosophy can do for you", focusing on the high results that philosophy students score on standardised tests, the marketability of philosophical skills, and the impressive earning potential of philosophy graduates. I’ve even seen pitches like: "If you want to succeed in business, don’t get an MBA. Study philosophy instead." I find this strange, because career advancement and commercial success are the most peripheral of the benefits of philosophy.

In my university days, still uncertain of my future directions, I came across an unforgettable quote by Alex Pozdnyakov, a philosophy student on the other side of the world: “I have this strange phrase I use when people ask me why I chose philosophy. I tell them I wanted to become a professional human being.”

Perfect, I thought. That’s what I want to be.

Since then, training in various jobs has made me into various kinds of professional, but no training has shaped my humanity as deeply as philosophy has. No other discipline has inspired such wonder about the world, or furnished me with thinking tools so universally applicable to the puzzles that confront us as human beings.

When I started running philosophy workshops for primary school children, I quickly saw that kids, too, have the capacity to enquire philosophically from an early age. They’re nimble in playing with ideas and deft in building on each other’s arguments. They’re endlessly inquisitive, wondering about values (“What’s the most treasured object in the world?”), metaphysics (“Is the earth a coincidence?”), language (“If cavemen just went ‘ugh-ugh-ugh’, how did we learn to speak?”) and epistemology (“Since you can have dreams inside dreams, how can you know when you’re dreaming?”).

In small groups, they’ve discussed artificial intelligence, environmental ethics, interspecies communication and authenticity in art. They’ve contemplated the existence of free will, the limits of knowledge, the possibility of justice and countless other problems from the history of philosophical thought. By continually questioning, challenging and evaluating ideas, the children have been able to see for themselves why some arguments fail while others bear up under scrutiny.

Studying philosophy cultivates doubt without helplessness, and confidence without hubris. I’ve watched kids evolve to be more rational, sceptical and open-minded, and I’ve seen them interact in more fair-minded and collaborative ways. As one 10-year-old said, “I’ve started to actually solve arguments and problems with philosophy. And it works better than violence or anything else.”

Over 400 years ago, the French writer Michel de Montaigne asked: “Since philosophy is the art which teaches us how to live, and since children need to learn it as much as we do at other ages, why do we not instruct them in it?” We urgently need to ask ourselves the same question today.

The central place of Theory of Knowledge in the International Baccalaureate (a globally recognised high school diploma) reflects a worldwide appreciation for the importance of philosophy – a discipline that underpins all other academic disciplines. A growing international movement is inviting young children to philosophise in primary schools in the USA, the UK and elsewhere – but Australia is lagging.

Although philosophy features on the high school curriculum in most Australian states, only a very few primary schools dedicate class time to broad philosophical enquiry or to the explicit teaching of critical and creative thinking.

If it were more widely embraced, the practice of philosophical enquiry in primary schools could make schooling a lot more meaningful and engaging for students. It would certainly promote the development of reasoned argument and higher-order thinking – skills which underlie learning in most other domains (including literacy and numeracy) and which are essential for responsible civic engagement.

By setting children on a path of philosophical enquiry early in life, we could offer them irreplaceable gifts: an awareness of life’s moral, aesthetic and political dimensions; the capacity to articulate thoughts clearly and evaluate them honestly; and the confidence to exercise independent judgement and self-correction. What’s more, an early introduction to philosophical dialogue would foster a greater respect for diversity and a deeper empathy for the experiences of others, as well as a crucial understanding of how to use reason to resolve disagreements.

The benefits to students would be there for the taking, if only philosophy educators in Australia could access appropriate funding and institutional support. Such support is provided by charitable organisations like the Philosophy Foundation in the UK and theSquire Foundation in the USA, which lead the way in embedding philosophy in primary school curricula. Unless funding is made available here to pay expert philosophy practitioners or to provide classroom teachers with rigorous training, our kids are condemned to forgo the many rich rewards that philosophy promises – or to suffer from the variable level of professionalism that characterises many volunteer-run educational programs.

Here’s something to think about on World Philosophy Day: while academic achievement, career advancement and financial success are no trifling things, they’re simply visible husks that may grow around a philosophical life. The hidden kernel is made of freedom, clarity of thought, and a professional mastery of what it means to be human. These are qualities we should seek for all our children, no matter what they grow up to become.