Battle of Ideas Festival Audio Archive

Who are The People?

Recorded at the Battle of Ideas festival 2019 on Saturday 2 November at Barbican, London.
ORIGINAL INTRODUCTION
Since the Brexit vote of 2016, the phrase ‘the will of the people’ has gained significant political currency. Brexiteers argue the referendum represents the will of the people and so needs to be implemented, whereas their opponents report opinion polls as showing that the will of the people has changed. Others still dismiss the idea of the will of the people as a fantasy, arguing that no group – especially not one as diverse as the British electorate – can have a single will.
But even if we put aside the idea of the ‘will’ of the people, questions abound about what we even mean by ‘the people’. At one level, the idea of the people is essential to democratic life: famously, the term democracy comes from the ancient Greek term demos (people), and means that the people rule, in distinction to monarchies, where one person ruled, or oligarchy, where a small group ruled. But, beyond general statements like this, can we say anything about who the people are and what they want? When, in Ancient Athens, citizens well known to each other could all meet and vote in one place, the idea of ‘the people’ was undoubtedly less difficult to comprehend than in modern states, where the term now encompasses many millions of individuals.
At any rate, many would worry that the idea of the people is tied up with dangerous forms of populism. Populists claim to oppose ‘the elites’ and so aim to speak for the people. But given the sheer diversity of thought and opinion, how can any figure claim to speak on behalf of the whole people? Commentators worry that, by doing so, populists erase the differences between people and create mob-like behaviour. Nonetheless, it would be at the very least strange if a politician explicitly announced they did not speak for the people.
But who gets to be included in the term ‘the people’ anyway? While many ancient Greek states defined ‘the demos’ quite widely, women or slaves were never considered part of it. Even today, there are fierce debates about whether prisoners or resident aliens should be allowed to vote, and so get to be counted as part of ‘the people’. Even if we can decide who gets to be included, what, if anything, binds the people together? Are there common, pre-political bonds of history, language or culture, or are political ties like voting, or economic ties like trading, enough? Some would argue that ‘the people’ do not even need to share a territory.
When the idea of the people is usually described or dismissed as a myth, is invoking the idea merely a populist fantasy? What bonds, if any, do individuals need to form something like a people? Or are people too marked by differences and unique identities for the idea of the people to have anything other than rhetorical use? Amidst the churn and change of the twenty-first century, can we give new meaning to the idea of ‘the people’? Ultimately, who is afraid of the people?
SPEAKERSAaqil Ahmedprofessor of media, University of Bolton; media consultant; non-executive director, Advertising Standards Authority and OFCOM; former head of religion, Channel 4 and BBC
Sophia Gastondirector, British Foreign Policy Group; research fellow, Institute for Global Affairs, London School of Economics; academic fellow, European Policy Centre
Mick Humecolumnist, spiked; author, Revolting!: how the establishment are undermining democracy and what they’re afraid of and Trigger Warning
Lord Stewart WoodLabour member, House of Lords; fellow, Magdalen College and the Blavatnik School of Government, University of Oxford; member, EU Select Committee
CHAIRElla Whelanco-convenor, Battle of Ideas festival; journalist and frequent commentator on TV and radio; author, What Women Want

The rise of toxic politics: can we be civil?

Recorded at the Battle of Ideas festival 2019 on Sunday 3 November at Barbican, London.
ORIGINAL INTRODUCTION
After the Supreme Court ruling against prorogation, the subsequent debate in parliament was filled with invective on both sides. Looking at a world seemingly filled with slurs, angry social-media comments, inflammatory remarks about migrants, and nasty jibes about ‘stupid Brexiteers’ or ‘metropolitan remoaners’, many commentators have announced that we live in an age of ‘toxic politics’. The phrase supposedly captures the increasingly nasty, personal and hate-filled political discourse, as well as pointing to the corrosive effect of this on our political life.
Concerns about the incivility of political life are hardly new. In Homer’s Iliad, Thersites, a common soldier, questions the point of the war against Troy and is quickly denounced by Odysseus as a rabble-rouser, a braggart and a ‘thrower of words’. Thersites, personally insulting the high-born lords, stepped outside the bounds of civil discourse. Today, however, incivility seems to be not just an occasional moment where people step out of line, but the default feature of political life.
Perhaps part of the perception of toxicity comes from the increased role that social media plays. Sitting miles away from each other, people feel free to say things online they’d never say in person. In an age of supposedly short attention spans, media companies also feel pressured to play up conflict and division. Many allege that broadcasters also often present issues in a binary fashion that artificially creates angry disagreement and presents extreme political positions as if they were mainstream.
Nonetheless, this toxicity is as much a phenomenon offline as it is online. For example, 2019 saw the emergence of ‘milkshaking’ controversial figures, and the Remainer MP Anna Soubry complained of harassment by pro-Brexit activists who shouted slurs at her, including ‘traitor’ and ‘Nazi’, outside parliament. This echoed a widely condemned and now infamous Daily Mail front page naming top judges as ‘enemies of the people’. Prominent political figures, it seems, feel targeted by an increasingly angry and hostile public.
On the other hand, perhaps this supposedly toxic and divisive politics is simply the return of big political questions after the ‘end of history’ period; with the political consensus shattered by crisis after crisis, perhaps we’re so unused to profound arguments that they feel like toxic divisions. Perhaps, like high-born Odysseus, today’s political figures are just upset by ordinary people challenging their authority, dressing their insecurity up as talk of ‘toxicity’. What’s more, many point out that the increasingly personalised forms of identity politics that have emerged can make political disagreements feel like personal attacks, fuelling the perception of hatred and toxicity.
Are we witnessing a new, more toxic kind of politics? If so, what is the alternative? Should we lament a supposedly lost civility, or is the emergence of more forthright and angry disagreements in fact a good thing? What is the line between passionate disagreement and toxic bile? Who gets to decide what are acceptable and unacceptable forms of discourse? Ultimately, how do we live together when we disagree profoundly on major issues?
SPEAKERSDolan Cummingsassociate fellow, Academy of Ideas; co-founder, Manifesto Club; author, That Existential Leap: a crime story
Timandra Harknessjournalist, writer and broadcaster; presenter, Radio 4's FutureProofing and How to Disagree; comedian, Take A Risk; author, Big Data: does size matter?
Dr Deborah E Lipstadtprofessor of Holocaust Studies, Emory University, Atlanta; author, Antisemitism: Here and Now; defendant, Irving v Penguin UK and Lipstadt (2000)
Jacob Mchangamaexecutive director, Justitia, a Copenhagen based human-rights think tank; host and narrator, Clear and Present Danger: a history of free speech podcast
James Tooleyprofessor of educational entrepreneurship and policy, University of Buckingham; author, The Beautiful Tree
CHAIRAlastair Donaldco-convenor, Battle of Ideas festival; convenor, Living Freedom; co-director, Future Cities Project

From Shakespeare to social media: are we losing the will to read?

Recorded at the Battle of Ideas festival 2019 on Sunday 3 November at Barbican, London.
ORIGINAL INTRODUCTION
In our digital age of kindles, audiobooks, iPads and Twitter, when skim-reading has become the norm, have we lost the ability to read critically? In his new book, Pen in Hand: reading, re-reading and other mysteries, the author Tim Parks argues that the simple acts of reading with a pen in hand and writing in the margins are crucial for engaging with and thinking critically about a text. Parks writes that ‘we have too much respect for the printed word, too little awareness of the power words hold over us’. Writing in The Closing of the American Mind, American philosopher Allan Bloom observed similar problems long before the dawn of the internet and social media, noting students ‘have not learned to read, nor do they have the expectation of delight or improvement from reading’. This lack of education, Bloom argued, ‘results in students seeking enlightenment wherever it is readily available, without being able to distinguish between the sublime and trash’.
How do we decide whether a book is good or bad, worth reading or a waste of time? Questions of judgement and criticism are crucial beyond the world of books – whether in politics or morality, in assessing the value of ideas, cultures, ethics. But when it comes to fiction, judgement is often seen as a dirty word. Is the contemporary failure to be honest about whether works of fiction are good or bad the consequence of academia’s turn towards relativism and non-judgementalism? Is this hampering our ability to read ‘good’ books? Or are other factors, such as the rise of social media and new technology, to blame?
Reading also allows us to develop perspective and empathy. But in today’s world of relativism and identity politics, where diversity is often valued above all else, can the universalist appeal of literature survive? Elif Shafak is Turkey’s most widely read female author, her books explore the complexities of identity and individual experience. She argues that ‘everyone’s inner journey is unique just like our fingerprints’. As a writer, she believes that literature reminds us of our ‘common humanity’. Does a good book tell us something about our shared humanity? Or open doors to new worlds, allowing us to enter times and places we would otherwise not have known?
How does a writer acquire insights that we can all relate to? What is a good reader? Shafak argues: ‘I believe that every writer should be a good reader and a good listener… A writer should not isolate himself or herself from society.’ But what of standing apart from social trends and fashions? And for readers amid today’s tumultuous events, is there anything wrong with retreating from the ‘real’ world?
In this session, award-winning novelists Elif Shafak and Tim Parks will discuss the state of reading and writing in the twenty-first century, exploring questions such as: Why does reading matter? What is the purpose of reading? Why do we need fiction? Do we read to challenge our vision of the world or to confirm it? Is reading a skill, an art, or simply a passive experience? And is it ok to get lost in a text, or should we stay alert and critical when reading fiction?
SPEAKERSTim Parksnovelist, essayist, travel writer and translator; author, Pen in Hand: reading, rereading and other mysteries and In Extremis
Elif Shafakaward winning novelist, 10 Minutes 38 Seconds in this Strange World; political commentator
CHAIRClaire Foxdirector, Academy of Ideas; Brexit Party MEP; author, I STILL Find That Offensive!

From Trump's wall to policing culture: understanding borders today

Recorded at the Battle of Ideas festival 2019 on Saturday 2 November at Barbican, London.
ORIGINAL INTRODUCTION
Globalisation was supposed to diminish the relevance of national borders. Yet from Trump’s ‘big beautiful wall’ along the US-Mexico border to the border between the Northern Ireland and the Republic of Ireland, borders have exhibited a surprising tendency to remain important.
Many interpret this as a simple backlash against the downsides of globalisation: the ‘left behinds’, who have not enjoyed the benefits of frictionless trade and travel, have supposedly turned to nationalist and protectionist measures in a futile attempt to turn back the clock to before the era of global supply chains. However, the surprising persistence of walls and borders is clearly a broader phenomenon.
Across the world, many commentators have noted a trend towards more gated communities and increasingly securitised entrances to flats and businesses. A number of ostensibly public parks and squares are owned or run by private organisations with the authority to eject people on slim pretences. Even Glastonbury, once a festival famous for hippy ideals and lax enforcement of ticketing, is now surrounded by a four-kilometre long, 10-foot-high ‘Fortress Super Fence’. The uneasy contrast between the many ‘no borders/no walls’ signs held by festivalgoers and the huge external fence was not lost on some.
There also seems to be confusion surrounding the status of cultural and political borders and boundaries. On the one hand, the rise of charges of ‘cultural appropriation’ seems to suggest a world where cultural boundaries and interchange are policed ever more strongly, and on the other hand many celebrate at the same time the ‘fluidity’ of gender and sexual boundaries. In addition, especially after the scandal surrounding the publicisation of a row between Boris Johnson and his girlfriend, some have noted a blurring of the boundary between public and private.
What, therefore, can be said about the renewed significance of walls and borders? In part, the renewed significance of national borders perhaps reflects a demand by people to ‘take back control’ and assert power in more clearly defined ways. In a similar fashion, the assertion of cultural boundaries has been be said to be about marginalised communities asserting control of their culture. Alternatively, some note a generalised feeling of insecurity, expressed both by the masses’ demands for stricter enforcement of national borders and also by the elites’ retreat into gated communities.
What, then, are the proper role of borders and walls in public life? How are we to interpret the success of politicians like Donald Trump who promise to pay attention to national borders – are they playing to anti-immigrant sentiment or respond to legitimate anxieties about the restlessness of globalised capitalism? Is it contradictory to lament the return of national borders while seeking to enforce cultural borders? Can we mark boundaries between realms like public and private, and are they worth defending? Are any borders worth defending?
SPEAKERSSabine Beppler-Spahlchair, Freiblickinstitut e.V; CEO, Sprachkunst36; author, Brexit-Demokratischer Aufbruch in Großbritannien; Germany correspondent, spiked
Professor Frank Furedisociologist and social commentator; author, How Fear Works: culture of fear in the 21st century and Populism and the European Culture Wars
Rebecca Loweresearcher, freelance writer and consultant; former director, FREER; author, Why Democracy? Taking political rights seriously
Dr Zoe Strimpelhistorian, University of Sussex; columnist, Sunday Telegraph; author, Seeking Love in Modern Britain: Gender, Dating and the Rise of the Single
CHAIRJacob Reynoldspartnerships manager, Academy of Ideas; co-convenor, Living Freedom and The Academy, boi charity

The crisis of trust in institutions

Recorded at the Battle of Ideas festival 2019 on Sunday 3 November at Barbican, London.
ORIGINAL INTRODUCTION
The idea of trust, and worries about its decline, have become a major preoccupation across all sectors of society. Politicians are worried that the public no longer trusts them, businesses are concerned their consumers distrust them, journalists fret that readers trust ‘fake news’ more than their reporting. Even civil servants, previously considered to be the pinnacle of trust and professionalism, are no longer deemed trustworthy after a series of high-profile leaks.
Growing distrust now seems to be a general phenomenon, but one particularly focused on institutions. For example, a succession of scandals – from the expenses scandal undermining trust in MPs to the Oxfam sex scandal undermining trust in charities – have made many question whether institutions can be trusted to uphold the public good. Some welcome a readiness to distrust institutions, as it is said to reflect a mature and healthy scepticism towards authority. Nonetheless, as perhaps is shown by repeated calls for ‘judge-led inquiries’ into all sorts of issues, there also seems to be a yearning for ‘trustworthy’ figures in politics and culture.
Some see the roots of this growing distrust in the erosion of traditional understandings of public service. For a long time, a normal assumption about journalists, doctors or civil servants was that, whatever their opinions, they were motivated by a sense of public duty. Today, it is more likely that people see such figures as motivated by their own self-interest or the demands of their organisation. When such cynical motivations are thought to be at play, is it surprising that we are less willing to trust?
For others, a growing distrust is a function of the politicisation of ostensibly neutral institutions. Whether it be institutions like the NHS taking a stand on cultural issues, like inviting men who identify as women to cervical screening appointments, or central bankers holding forth on political issues, it seems that many governing institutions have abandoned their claim to impartiality. If they are no longer impartial, can they therefore be trusted? Or perhaps the obsession with trust comes from anxiety within institutions about the questioning of their traditional claims to authority. If institutions are less sure of the role they play in society, they can no longer take their authority for granted and must focus on winning the ‘trust’ of a sceptical population.
Trust is of profound importance to every aspect of our lives. We need to trust that food is labelled correctly to avoid allergies, that air-traffic controllers do their jobs properly, and that banks process transactions properly. What, therefore, are the implications of a breakdown in public trust? Is it confined to certain sectors or institutions, or is distrust a more generalised feature of life today? What motivates growing distrust and what can be done to restore trust in institutions? Or should we welcome a new scepticism?
SPEAKERSDr Tim Blackbooks and essays editor, spiked
Miranda Greenjournalist; commentator; deputy editor of opinion pages, Financial Times; former Liberal Democrat advisor
Professor Sir Simon WesselyRegius chair of psychiatry, Institute of Psychiatry, Psychology and Neuroscience, King's College London; president, Royal Society of Medicine
Linda Woodheaddistinguished professor of religion and society, Lancaster University; author, That Was the Church That Was: how the Church of England lost the English people
CHAIRElla Whelanco-convenor, Battle of Ideas festival; journalist and frequent commentator on TV and radio; author, What Women Want

Extinction or progress? Visions of the future

Recorded at the Battle of Ideas festival 2019 on Sunday 3 November at Barbican, London.
ORIGINAL INTRODUCTION
Today’s political culture seems obsessed with dark, apocalyptic visions. From young people staging ‘die-ins’ to protest about the environment to talk of an ‘insect apocalypse’, fears and threats loom large. Activists from Extinction Rebellion argue the threat of catastrophe means it is imperative to reject growth and progress in favour of a new eco-austerity. Fifty years on from the moon landings, a stark contrast emerges between the implied promise of a future of space travel and luxury and today’s vision of climate emergencies and ageing populations. Perhaps, therefore, it is unsurprising that dystopias like The Handmaid’s Tale or Nineteen Eighty-Four (published 70 years ago this year) are such a prominent part of our culture. But, perhaps as shown by the success of the hit series Chernobyl, it is not just the dangerous future that’s imagined, but our present or recent past, too.
Of course, imagining a dark future is nothing necessarily new. Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, published in 1818, was a famous early dramatisation of unease about the Enlightenment, science-driven future. Nonetheless, and in stark contrast to today, such works gained colour from the contrast with the optimistic belief in progress associated with the period. Few people today would identify with the idea of unending progress. Even where an idea of progress does exist, such as among Silicon Valley technologists, it is often presented as the development of new technologies – such as autonomous cars or artificial intelligence (AI) – to save humanity from its inherently sinful ways. Indeed, even any debate about AI is subject to numerous doom-laded scenarios.
Perhaps one question to ask is what our attitudes to the future tell us about the present. Are periods of time where people dream big new ideas more confident of themselves, and do we therefore live in relatively insecure times? What is the cause of our contemporary insecurity? Whatever the roots of this insecurity, it is certainly profound. As some have noted, there is a current tendency to turn technical problems – such as reducing greenhouse-gas emissions or developing clean energy sources – into existential crises.
Naturally, rare voices occasionally attempt a defence of progress. However, such polemics are usually focused on showing how progress has happened in the past, not that we can expect it to continue. Their implicit message seems to be: ‘You’ve never had it so good, so stop complaining.’ Even left-wing defenders of a new, technologically-powered socialism seem interested in singing the praises of technology only to avoid what they see as total environmental catastrophe.
Where, therefore, have the defenders of progress gone? When the elite at Davos broadcast a catastrophic vision of the future, is it a sign that our leaders have lost confidence in themselves and our society? What can we learn about the present from our attitude to the future? Do we need to recover our faith in the future – and by extension, ourselves?
SPEAKERSDr Shahrar Alihome affairs spokesperson and former deputy leader, Green Party; author, Why Vote Green 2015
Gregory Claeysprofessor of history, Royal Holloway, University of London; author, Searching for Utopia: the history of an idea; fellow, Royal Society for the Encouragement of Arts, Manufactures, and Commerce
Dr Ashley Frawleysenior lecturer in sociology and social policy, Swansea University; author, Significant Emotions and Semiotics of Happiness
Brendan O’Neilleditor, spiked; host, The Brendan O'Neill Show; writer, the Sun and the Spectator; author, A Duty to Offend
CHAIRJacob Reynoldspartnerships manager, Academy of Ideas; co-convenor, Living Freedom and The Academy, boi charity

Can we build solidarity in a fractured society?

Recorded at the Battle of Ideas festival 2019 on Saturday 2 November at Barbican, London.
ORIGINAL INTRODUCTION
In May of this year, the German tabloid newspaper Bild printed a ‘cut-out kippah’ on its front page. The paper urged its readers to wear the kippah ‘in solidarity’ with their Jewish countrymen after concerns about a spike in anti-Semitic attacks and recommendations from a politician that Jews should avoid wearing the kippah lest it put them in danger. Jewish groups in Germany responded that they appreciated the gesture, but ‘more than solidarity’ was needed to deal with the threats posed to Jews. But what is solidarity?
Few would deny that the impulse to express solidarity comes from a genuine and positive place. Jews in Germany were likely heartened seeing Bild’s front page. But perhaps what the affair suggests is that solidarity today often means a kind of gesture. Some companies encourage employers to wear rainbow lanyards ‘in solidarity’ with LGBT Pride, people often change their social media profiles ‘in solidarity’ with victims of terror attacks or natural disasters, and a strike or protest in some other part of the world may well be met with a letter to the newspaper announcing ‘our solidarity with…’. This kind of performative solidarity is offered to an expanding list of identity groups who claim to suffer oppression. It seems in part to be about recognising the struggles of people unlike oneself.
But are there broader kinds of solidarity? Some have seen the gilets jaunes in France as an echo of an older solidarity among all working people: straightforward economic concerns like the price of fuel were a springboard for a broad understanding of the shared position of the ‘ignored’ masses. This kind of solidarity was historically seen in trades union movements, but as unions no longer play a decisive role in contemporary politics, is there a medium today for the expression of wider solidarity beyond one’s racial, sexual or gender identity? Some theorists have categorised populist movements as offering a kind of solidarity: groups who feel they share a specific grievance (such as being ignored) at the hands of an elite.
For many people, the nation plays this role. From football and Eurovision through to national holidays and remembrance days, a sense of national belonging is a key way that people experience broader bonds of solidarity. However, for many others, national identity is still associated with the horrors of the twentieth century and is considered dangerously close to chauvinism or racism. At the very least, national solidarity is said to be potentially incompatible with solidarity for immigrants or those who live abroad.
How are we to approach the question of solidarity? Does solidarity exist today and, if so, how is it different from the experience of solidarity historically? Is solidarity a reality or merely an aspiration? In a world that recognises an ever-growing number of different identities, is an aspiration towards something more universal a hopeless or even dangerous task? Is it possible for the state and other institutions to give shape to or kick-start collective solidarity, or are there no administrative fixes? On what basis are we to recognise political equality today?
SPEAKERSRoger Eatwellemeritus professor of comparative politics, University of Bath; co-author, National Populism: the Revolt against Liberal Democracy
Paul Emberyfirefighter, trade unionist; columnist, UnHerd
Professor Frank Furedisociologist and social commentator; author, How Fear Works: culture of fear in the 21st century and Populism and the European Culture Wars
Anne-Elisabeth Moutetcolumnist, Telegraph; co-founder & vice president, Institut Jean-Jacques Rousseau
CHAIRAlastair Donaldco-convenor, Battle of Ideas festival; convenor, Living Freedom; co-director, Future Cities Project

Trust: 10 years after the financial crisis

Recorded at the Battle of Ideas festival 2018 on Sunday 14 October at Barbican, London.
ORIGINAL INTRODUCTION
It is a decade since the world was hit by what has become known as the global financial crisis. The collapse of Lehman Brothers in September 2008 is widely seen as a watershed in the emergence of a harsher economic climate. Although there were tentative signs of trouble beforehand, the demise of the Wall Street investment bank was widely identified as the onset of the crisis. There were widespread fears about ‘contagion’ across the financial system and governments were forced into extraordinary emergency to pump money into the economy and to bail out banks like HBOS and Royal Bank of Scotland. The crisis was soon followed by economic recession and, a couple of years later, by the emergence of what has become known as economic austerity as government deficits rose.
The subsequent downturn was arguably the worst since the Great Depression of the 1930s. By some measures, average incomes in the UK have not got back to their pre-crisis levels. The economic problems have had political consequences, too. Many go so far as to argue that the financial crisis played an important role in the rise of populism. In this view, the resultant sluggish economic growth and widening inequality helped drive a backlash against established politics. The have-nots looked askance as wealthy bankers were bailed out with lavish helpings of state aid.
With the benefit of 10 years of hindsight, how should the global financial crisis be viewed? There are questions to be asked both about what happened back then and developments since.
The first relates to the collapse of Lehman and the subsequent financial turmoil. Were the finance sector’s woes the cause of subsequent economic problems or was the crisis a symptom of underlying, structural weaknesses in the economy? What role did bankers play in instigating the crisis? How should the massive bailouts of troubled financial institutions be judged in retrospect? Were they economically necessary and can they be morally justified?
Subsequent developments also demand intellectual interrogation. What was the relationship between the financial crisis and the subsequent recession? Is it accurate to describe the current economic policies of Western governments as ‘austerity’? How significant was the economic fall-out from the crisis as a factor driving the rise of populism?
SPEAKERSDaniel Ben-Amijournalist; author, Ferraris for All: in defence of economic progress and Cowardly Capitalism
Philippe Legrainfounder, Open Political Economy Network (OPEN); author, Aftershock: reshaping the world economy after the crisis and Immigrants: your country needs them; former special adviser to World Trade Organisation
Maggie McGheeexecutive director, governance, ACCA
Dr Linda Yueheconomist at St Edmund Hall, Oxford University and London Business School; author, The Great Economists
CHAIRRob Lyonsscience and technology director, Academy of Ideas; convenor, AoI Economy Forum

National identity and belonging: what does it mean to be a citizen?

Recorded at the Battle of Ideas festival 2018 on Saturday 13 October at Barbican, London.
ORIGINAL INTRODUCTION
Recently, Britain stripped Alexanda Kotey and El Shafee Elshiekh, the two remaining members of a notorious ISIS cell nicknamed ‘The Beatles’, of their British citizenship and the authorities are not expected to try to bring them to the UK to stand trial. The alleged hostage-killers from London, who were captured in Syria this summer, were aggrieved that they had lost their right to a UK passport, denouncing the government’s decision as ‘illegal’ and exposing the pair to ‘rendition and torture’.
This is just one of several recent issues that have highlighted questions of citizenship, from the ‘Windrush scandal’ – in which people who had arrived in Britain from the Caribbean 50 years ago were suddenly told they did not have rights as British citizens – to the ongoing negotiations over free movement and the future rights of people who came to the UK as EU citizens. Some opponents of Brexit have expressed a hope that individual UK citizens might choose to retain ‘EU citizenship’, but it is not clear what this would mean in practice. Would it effectively be a glorified work permit – bought for a fee – or something more symbolic, the Remainer’s version of the much-mocked blue British passport that was said to motivate Leavers?
In some respects, we are seeing a clash between a cosmopolitan view of citizenship and a national one. For example, critics of populism – often supporters of the EU and free movement – frequently assert that citizens and ‘foreigners’ should enjoy the same privileges. This seems to be based on the belief that the exclusion of non-citizens from welfare rights or electoral franchise, for instance, is similar to discriminating against someone on the basis of race, ethnicity or religion. When Theresa May declared that people who call themselves ‘citizens of the world’ don’t know the meaning of citizenship and are in fact ‘citizens of nowhere’, she caused outcry. Many interpreted this as a post-Brexit return to patriotic xenophobia, and responded by reasserting their desire to be world citizens or, indeed, ‘citizens of nowhere’.
But what can citizenship mean if it is divorced from place and detached from any special rights and duties? How can democratic decision-making work unless citizens interact with one another within a geographically bounded entity? As political philosopher Hannah Arendt argued: ‘Nobody can be a citizen of the world as he is the citizen of his country… A citizen is by definition a citizen among citizens in a country among countries. His rights and duties must be defined and limited, not only by those of his fellow citizens, but also by the boundaries of a territory… laws are the positively established fences which hedge in, protect, and limit the space in which freedom is not a concept, but a living, political reality.’
Some argue that national citizenship is the mechanism that allows citizens to forge bonds and allows a sense of solidarity to develop, essential for taking responsibility for the future of their society. But if one side argues that, despite differences, citizens are bound by a deep sense of commonality, others worry that this privileges those who share a culture and history at the expense of new cultural identities.
So, does citizenship by definition demarcate as well as unify? Is citizenship ultimately necessary, or is it a relic of a less-connected world? Is citizenship more robust when based on an American-style civic ideal to which anyone can subscribe to? Should we understand citizenship primarily as a practical matter of rights and responsibilities, or as a more elevated matter of identity and allegiance?
SPEAKERSKate Andrewsassociate director, Institute of Economic Affairs; columnist, City A.M.
Mihir Boseaward-winning journalist; author, Lion and Lamb: a portrait of British moral duality
Jacob Mchangamaexecutive director, Justitia, a Copenhagen based human-rights think tank; host and narrator, Clear and Present Danger: a history of free speech podcast
Dr James Pantonhead of upper sixth and head of politics, Magdalen College School; associate professor of philosophy, Open University; co-editor, From Self to Selfie: a critique of contemporary forms of alienation
CHAIRAngus Kennedyconvenor, The Academy; author, Being Cultured: in defence of discrimination

Democracy under siege

Recorded at the Battle of Ideas festival 2018 on Sunday 14 October at Barbican, London.
ORIGINAL INTRODUCTION
Over the past year, debates about democracy and its woes have been ubiquitous. Liberal democracy seems under strain from a wide variety of foes. There are worries that tech giants and algorithms are undermining elections and corrupting democratic discourse. Liberalism itself seems embroiled in a civil war over democratic principles, such as free speech and universalism. Populism is variously claimed to be a threat to democracy or its very embodiment. The Economist’s recent manifesto for liberalism concedes that ‘Europe and America are in the throes of a popular rebellion against liberal elites, who are seen as self-serving… political philosophies cannot live by their past glories; they must also promise a better future. And here liberal democracy faces a looming challenge.’
Few are willing to come out in public and argue against democracy explicitly. We’re all democrats, it would seem, but there are very different ideas of how much involvement the general population should have in running the affairs of state. In the UK, both sides of the Brexit divide claim to be the true democrats. Those arguing for a ‘People’s Vote’ claim that those who instructed the government to negotiate Brexit must have the final say and suggest this is ‘a demand for continued democracy. Or, to borrow a phrase, for voters to “take control”.’ Leavers see such campaigns as yet more evidence of attempts at undermining the greatest democratic vote in British history and shows that many are unwilling to accept the result of a democratic vote.
Ironically, while many voted to leave the EU because they see it as an undemocratic barrier to popular sovereignty, the EU sees itself as policing the democratic values of its member states. In September, the European Parliament voted by 448 to 197 to initiate Article 7 proceedings against Hungary. The same procedure had already been commenced against Poland in January. The European Commission has accused the governments of both countries of being in breach of the EU’s ‘core values’. Meanwhile Barack Obama recently mounted an uncompromising attack on Donald Trump, saying his administration has ‘violated’ a host of ‘basic’ democratic principles of American democracy, including the rule of law and freedom of the press. Trump’s supporters in turn seem to view him as renewing democracy by ‘draining the swamp’ of undemocratic technocrats such as Hillary Clinton.
Arguably, the present populist surge is a rejection of a managerial style of rule, at odds with popular sovereignty. Removing government action from democratic influence has been a trend in liberal democracies, as more and more policy is outsourced to unelected quangos at arm’s length from our elected representatives. For example, very few countries allow politicians to set interest rates, a decision that is left to unelected central bankers. Given the complexity of political issues today, it is argued, perhaps there is a case for leaving more and more decisions to the experts. Surely we can’t trust the electorate to be informed enough to know what’s best for society in a globalised world?
Such is the suspicion of the demos, it has even become fashionable to admire the ability of autocratic and one-party regimes, from China to Singapore, to ‘get things done’ and to prefer manipulating big data sets to convincing people. Indeed, part of the outrage against both the Brexit and Trump votes seems to be a response to the rejection of ‘right thinking’ experts. For many critics, the views of better-educated people should carry more clout than the rest of the electorate. The idea of an educational test for voters has been floated, too. The economist Dambisa Moyo has asked if ‘migrants are required to pass government-sanctioned civic tests in order to gain citizenship… why not give all voters a test of their knowledge?’
All this begs the question, what is democracy and what threatens it today? Is it time to give more power to The People? Or is this just a populist ‘dog-whistle’? Can liberalism renew itself sufficiently to save democracy? Do we need a new philosophy to win the hearts and minds of new generations to the virtues of democracy?
SPEAKERSZanny Minton Beddoeseditor-in-chief, The Economist
Daniel Moylanformer deputy chairman, Transport for London; co-chairman, Urban Design London
Steve Richardsbroadcaster; political commentator; presenter, BBC Radio 4’s Week in Westminster; author, The Rise of the Outsiders
Bruno WaterfieldBrussels correspondent, The Times; co-author, No Means No
CHAIRClaire Foxdirector, Academy of Ideas; author, I STILL Find That Offensive!

Is free speech a fiction? In conversation with Lionel Shriver

Recorded at the Battle of Ideas festival 2018 on Sunday 14 October at Barbican, London.
ORIGINAL INTRODUCTION
Internationally renowned author Lionel Shriver isn’t afraid of speaking her mind. At the 2016 Brisbane Writers Festival, she gave a speech which called into question the contemporary focus on identity politics. ‘I hope the concept of cultural appropriation is a passing fad’, she said, infamously causing a young woman to walk out in protest. Since then, Shriver has been the go-to critic of identity politics in the arts.
More recently, Shriver was accused of racism for writing a column in the Spectator arguing that diversity quotas in publishing would mean ‘literary excellence will be secondary to ticking all those ethnicity, gender, disability, sexual preference and crap-education boxes’. Hanif Kureishi and other authors were outraged, arguing that Shriver’s article had brought out all the ‘knuckle-dragging, semi-blind suspects’. She was even dropped as a judge for a a writing competition run by magazine Mslexia, who said that Shriver’s comments ‘alienate the very women we are trying to support’.
Despite sometimes vicious reactions to her views, Shriver continues to argue that the concept of cultural ‘appropriation’ is creative poison, whereas cultural cross-fertilisation is fruitful for both artist and audience. In an interview with the spiked review, Shriver insisted that ‘fiction writing is a form of pillaging, happy pillaging, theft that doesn’t hurt anybody or take anything away from people’. Rather than joining the ranks of other authors who have hired ‘sensitivity readers’ to prevent offensive portrayals of characters, or who avoid going outside their own experience in fiction, Shriver consistently defends a writer’s freedom to use their imagination in their work.
As well as a staunch defender of intellectual freedom, Shriver is perhaps better known as a multiple award-winning author. Her most famous book, We Need to Talk About Kevin, won the Orange Prize for Fiction in 2005 and caused rows over dinner tables worldwide about the difference between nurture and nature in parenting. After 13 books, including Property, published this year, what does Shriver think the future holds for fiction writers? How hard has it been to criticise identity politics in today’s oversensitive climate? Is diversity in the arts something to aspire to or do we need to focus on the content of what’s being published, rather than the writer?
SPEAKERLionel Shriveraward-winning novelist; novels include, We Need to Talk About Kevin (2005 Orange prize winner), The Mandibles: a family, 2029 – 2047 and The Post-Birthday World; her first short story collection, Property, was published this year
CHAIRClaire Foxdirector, Academy of Ideas; author, I STILL Find That Offensive!

From SJW to gammon: weaponising political language

Recorded at the Battle of Ideas festival 2018 on Saturday 13 October at Barbican, London.
ORIGINAL INTRODUCTION
Politics has often comprised a battle over, and a battle using, language. For example, the distinction between ‘terrorist’ and ‘freedom fighter’ is as much an exercise in political mudslinging as it is a philosophical difference. However, with knee-jerk denunciations of President Trump and his supporters as ‘literal Nazis’, and Brexit voters as racist xenophobes, have the normal battles over political language morphed into something else?
Today, we seem to see not just the utilisation of existing terms to delegitimise opposition, but a proliferation of completely new terms as well. Old white men become ‘gammons’, women critical of feminism have ‘internalised misogyny’, students are ‘snowflakes’, and society is under siege from ‘whiteness’, ‘neoliberalism’, or ‘transphobia’. To even question the reality of such concepts is seen to be ‘erasing’ the marginalised. Meanwhile, new insults like TERF, SJW and ‘normie’ proliferate, with the aim of maligning the motives or deriding the views of those so labelled.
Aside from the nastiness of some contemporary political vocabulary, it is the sheer effort required to stay conversant in contemporary political terminology that attracts attention. It is not uncommon to find oneself completely lost – or completely unwelcome – in a political conversation if you don’t know how to speak the new political language. While this can prompt the demand to ‘get with it granddad’, it also marks a worrying evolution in the restriction of public discourse: an inability or unwillingness to speak the new code effectively rules one out of polite society.
However, campaigners are quick to point out the usefulness of new terms such as ‘gaslighting’ or ‘mansplaining’: they highlight imbalances in power and other injustices. But does such a discourse prove helpful to political progress, or further estrange ordinary people from an increasingly jargon-obsessed political and cultural elite? Is the proliferation of new political and cultural terms a good way to address serious political challenges, or an example of the weaponisation of language? Fundamentally, what’s the line between the natural evolution of political language, and the degeneration of political language into trendy slurs?
SPEAKERSProfessor Frank Furedisociologist and social commentator; author, How Fear Works: culture of fear in the 21st century and Populism and the European Culture Wars
Sophia Gastondirector, Centre for Social and Political Risk, Henry Jackson Society; visiting research fellow, London School of Economics
Simon Lancasterspeechwriter; author, Winning Minds: secrets from the language of leadership and You Are Not Human: how words kill; TEDx speaker
Professor Dr Robert Pfallerphilosopher, University of Art and Industrial Design, Linz, Austria; author, (in German) Adult language: about its disappearance from politics and culture
CHAIRClaire Foxdirector, Academy of Ideas; author, I STILL Find That Offensive!

Identity crisis

Recorded at the Battle of Ideas festival 2018 on Sunday 14 October at Barbican, London.
ORIGINAL INTRODUCTION
Identity politics is the dominant force in Western public life today. It is the subject of much debate and something of a backlash, as many fear it threatens democracy, liberalism and free speech. US commentator Francis Fukuyama’s latest book, Identity: The Demand for Dignity and the Politics of Resentment is just the latest high-profile intellectual take on the issue. Fukuyama worries that that the universal recognition on which liberal democracy is based has been increasingly challenged by ‘narrower forms of recognition based on nation, religion, sect, race, ethnicity, or gender, which have resulted in anti-immigrant populism, the upsurge of politicised Islam, the fractious “identity liberalism” of college campuses, and the emergence of white nationalism’. Quite a charge list. Fukuyama concludes that ‘identity cannot be transcended; we must begin to shape identity in a way that supports rather than undermines democracy’.
Mark Lilla, a professor of humanities at Columbia University, published a stinging New York Times op-ed, ‘The end of identity liberalism’, blaming identity politics for facilitating Donald Trump’s accession to the White House, writing: ‘American liberalism… has slipped into a kind of moral panic about racial, gender and sexual identity that has distorted liberalism’s message and prevented it from becoming a unifying force capable of governing.’
But are these critiques an overreaction to what might be better understood as the self-empowerment of those previously marginalised, and a demand from historically excluded groups for recognition and inclusion? Remi Adekoya suggests in Quillette that the ‘fundamental objective of left-wing identitarians is to strengthen the weaker groups while simultaneously weakening the strongest (whites, especially cis, hetero, white males) to achieve a more “equitable’ distribution of power’. Many of its supporters suggest that the twenty-first-century identitarian is simply the latest version of those activists who demanded women’s or black liberation in the 1960s.
But might this be misleading, ignoring the extent to which the drivers and concerns of identity politics have changed over the decades? At a time when identity is the focus of constant discussion and attention, it can be easy to overlook its complex history, either to see it as a seamless development of previous liberation movements or a totally new phenomenon. So, if one is to grasp what is unique about contemporary identity politics, it is essential to explore its history.
Professor Frank Furedi will deliver a lecture looking at the history of society’s concern with identity and its rapid politicisation in the twenty-first century and attempt to explain its main drivers. He will explore how the term ‘identity crisis’ was invented in the 1940s and – until it began to capture the public imagination from the 1960s – how commentators and researchers paid little attention to the social, cultural and political role of identity. He will explore how the politicisation of identity began to acquire its current dominant form in the 1990s, acquiring new characteristics as it became entangled with the emerging politics of victimhood and therapy culture.
Respondents will discuss issues such as: How has identity politics come to be less focused on political and social issues of overcoming discrimination than its 1960s and 1970s versions were? Is it a form of collectivism or is it better understood as a kind of fragmentation? What is the impact of identity on free speech when advocates of identity politics assert that there are matters on which only specific cultural groups can speak? Can the politics of solidarity and the ideal of universalism survive an era where society is divided into often competing identity groups? Is identitarianism really a threat to democracy and liberalism as its critics suggest?
SPEAKERSRemi AdekoyaPhD researcher on identity politics, Sheffield University; columnist; member, Editorial Working Group, Review of African Political Economy
Professor Frank Furedisociologist and social commentator; author, How Fear Works: culture of fear in the 21st century and Populism and the European Culture Wars
Rachel Halliburtonassociate editor, Avaunt Magazine; author, The Optickal Illusion: a very eighteenth century scandal
Eric Kaufmannprofessor of politics, Birkbeck College, University of London; author, Whiteshift: immigration, populism and the future of white majorities
CHAIRClaire Foxdirector, Academy of Ideas; author, I STILL Find That Offensive!

All change: navigating the new political disruption

Recorded at the Battle of Ideas festival 2018 on Saturday 13 October at Barbican, London.
ORIGINAL INTRODUCTION
Whatever way we read today’s political disruptions, change is in the air. Mainstream political parties internationally, from Italy to Sweden, are being thrown into disarray by new challengers. Democratic votes, from Brexit to Trump, are seemingly giving two fingers to establishment norms. Postwar, rules-based economic and diplomatic arrangements are being torn up. Traditional gatekeepers to information, truth and expertise are now no longer the last word; the floodgates are open. The so-called ‘MSM’, the mainstream media, are under pressure from the technological effects of ‘democratisation’, with everyone from tech giant platforms to opinionated bloggers and social-media warriors challenging a monopoly on what we read and having their say.
This turbulent atmosphere is undoubtedly unsettling. It is understandable that we can be tempted to resist change because of the risks associated with it. As Arnold Bennett put it: ‘Any change, even a change for the better, is always accompanied by drawbacks and discomforts.’ Indeed, we seem to lack the imagination to see this in any way except negatively. Commentators reach to history to scaremonger about contemporary challenges to the status quo as though they must lead inevitably to everything from a repeat of Weimar Germany to another world war. The increasingly shrill alarmism about everything from the leaving the EU to changing lifestyle habits, such as young people’s ‘dependence’ on mobile phones, indicates a free-floating, existential anxiety that implies that a changing world will lead to incalculable threats on all sides.
However, is there a danger that when society cultivates such fears it is promoting a climate of passive helplessness? And interestingly, perhaps what drives these much repeated concerns are risk-averse elites, fearful that millions of citizens are no longer listening to them about the virtues of how we do things now. After all, the majority in the UK voted in defiance of ‘Project Fear’ in 2016. Moreover, is the ‘genie out of the bottle’ now when it comes to political change? For example, if the UK were to end up staying in the EU, the rejection of such a large democratic vote would have consequences for years to come, undermining the legitimacy of the major political parties. We may have no choice but to embrace change and work to shape the future as best we can.
Perhaps we need to reboot our approach to entering a new historic period? Does the unpredictable future need to be experienced as out of our control and scary? After all, change can be full of opportunity. And the alternative to change can be moribund stagnation, as noted by Harold Wilson: ‘He who rejects change is the architect of decay. The only human institution which rejects progress is the cemetery.’ George Bernard Shaw summed up the choices we face: ‘When people shake their heads because we are living in a restless age, ask them how they would like to life in a stationary one, and do without change.’
Can we transform today’s turbulence as an opportunity to shape the future, grasp the moment with hope, be inspired by a period that is resonant with possibilities? Can we create a climate in which people will embrace new experiences and exhibit a willingness to take risks?
SPEAKERSProfessor Frank Furedisociologist and social commentator; author, How Fear Works: culture of fear in the 21st century and Populism and the European Culture Wars
Dr Eliane Glaserwriter; radio producer; senior lecturer, Bath Spa University; author, Anti-Politics: on the demonization of ideology, authority, and the state
Matthew Goodwinprofessor of political science, University of Kent; senior fellow, Chatham House; author, National Populism: the revolt against liberal democracy and Revolt on the Right
Stephen Kinnock MPLabour MP for Aberavon; member, Exiting the EU Select Committee and EU Scrutiny Committee; co-editor Spirit of Britain, Purpose of Labour: building a whole nation politics to reunite our divided country
CHAIRClaire Foxdirector, Academy of Ideas; author, I STILL Find That Offensive!

Culture: who pays?

Recorded at the Battle of Ideas festival 2018 on Saturday 13 October at Barbican, London.
ORIGINAL INTRODUCTION
In a period of spending cuts, the case for increased funding for cultural projects can be greeted with scepticism. But should cultural projects be viewed as ‘extras’ or ‘frills’ that should be scaled back in a time of fiscal crisis?
The recent opening of the V&A museum in Dundee, at a cost of £80million, has been lauded worldwide and welcomed by the city’s council leader, John Alexander, as putting ‘fire in the belly’ of the city’s people, boosting their confidence after decades of economic decline. But not everyone agrees it is money well spent. The museum’s final bill was nearly double the original budget and it will require continual public subsidies of more than £1.7million a year to help meet its running costs. In response, anti-austerity campaigners have organised protests in the city’s poorest neighbourhoods. One councillor has asked that in the face of public service cuts and school closure, how can this cost can be justified?
Meanwhile, corporate sponsorship often raises ethical dilemmas. Recently, BAE Systems, which employs 18,000 people in the north of England, was lined up to sponsor the Great Exhibition of the North for an estimated £500,000, but pulled out after an online petition calling for the event to sever ties with the arms manufacturer garnered more than 2,000 signatures.
Many have argued that when the cohesion of society is threatened by visible inequalities in wealth, housing, health and education, there is an even more vital role for culture to play within Britain’s society.
However, despite such socially worthy claims, the funding of these projects remains contentious. As we approach The National Lottery’s 25th anniversary, what is the role of culture in today’s Britain, who should fund it? Is culture itself is a luxury or a necessity in a modern-day society?
SPEAKERSAlexander Adamsartist, writer and art critic; author, Culture War: art, identity politics and cultural entryism (forthcoming)
Sean Gregorydirector of learning and engagement, Barbican Centre and Guildhall School of Music and Drama
Dr Tiffany Jenkinswriter and broadcaster; author, Keeping Their Marbles: how treasures of the past ended up in museums and why they should stay there
Barb Jungraward-winning singer, songwriter, composer and writer
CHAIRClaire Foxdirector, Academy of Ideas; author, I STILL Find That Offensive!