The writer Alan Bennett, discussing the political and social changes that began in the 1980s, noted: “One has only had to stand still to become a radical.” In the subsequent decades the supposed middle ground shifted so far rightwards that mainstream ideas – or, at least, considered within the bounds of conventional opinion – were to be dismissed as leftwing, pie-in-the-sky lunacy. A certain set of assumptions became dominant across all institutions of the British establishment. Policymakers became narrowly focused on a specific conception of “efficiency” – which led them to favour outsourcing, privatisation and means-testing. It was seen as desirable to shrink the welfare state as much as possible.
Effectively, neoliberal ideology became hegemonic. This was achieved so effectively that many adherents refuse to countenance the idea that their worldview constitutes an ideology at all. From their perspective, it’s just common sense. There are no other realistic options. Anything other than the status quo is either naive idealism or sinister radical dogma. Real politics is about accepting the rules of the game and doing the best you can under the circumstances.
Opinion polls have long suggested that on some economic measures the British public is rather to the left of the establishment-designated centre ground. Recently this disconnect has become more dramatic. Just yesterday, a call came from Richard Branson, a titan of capitalism, for a universal basic income that would counter the effects of artificial intelligence and the much-mooted rise of the robots. And a report from University College London’s Institute for Global Prosperity is advocating that UK citizens should receive free housing, food, transport and internet access to deal with that same daunting possibility. A significant majority of voters now favour taking trains, buses and utility companies back into state ownership. There’s also fairly widespread support for nationalising banks.
The horror of Grenfell Tower has also given impetus to those who wish to see a more communal politics. Though a public inquiry into the tragedy is in progress, leftwingers have long argued that programmes for poor people are poor programmes. That is to say, when fewer people are dependent on a service – and when they’re among the most marginalised, disempowered and ignored members of society – there’s a higher chance that standards will fall.
If a larger proportion of people lived in social housing, this sort of treatment would be impossible. Politicians can only neglect a certain percentage of the population without facing consequences: mess with too many of us, and we’ll vote you out. In essence, this is the basic argument for universality. It’s one that even many left-of-centre politicians seem to have forgotten in recent decades. The higher the number of people who have a stake, the better resourced, monitored and defended a public service will be.
How many people who criticised Labour’s plans for universal free school meals as “inefficient” realise that, since the Conservatives came to power in 2010, they haven’t raised the (already desperately low) income threshold of £16,190? Factor in inflation, and that’s a cut. What’s more, because of the stigma associated with means testing, many families who are eligible don’t take advantage. Who can blame them when so many children report that receiving free meals often leads to bullying?
I’m sure that if the NHS were newly introduced in the UK today, some policy wonks would argue it should be means-tested – to ensure it’s as “redistributive” as possible and that affluent people don’t benefit from something they could afford to fund privately. A similar argument would probably also be made about schooling. But now we’ve actually experienced the benefits of universal provision, we tend to be fiercely defensive of those entitlements. We implicitly understand that “free at the point of access” doesn’t mean the rich are subsidised by the poor: a progressive tax system means everyone pays what they can afford.
As the neoliberal order of the past several decades enters its death throes, we should take the opportunity to reconsider our conception of universal rights. Healthcare and under-18 education we already agree on. In a changing economy with a growing need for highly skilled workers, why not university education as well? What about state-provided universal basic services, which is what leading economists and social scientists at UCL propose as a practical, affordable and morally justified response to growing poverty and inequality?
The left has spent years focusing primarily on opposition: resistance to spending cuts, punitive welfare changes and the erosion of employment rights. Now, with Labour tantalisingly close to power, we have, at last, a chance to imagine something better.