What to read and watch on 31/10

Halloween is all about watching horror movies and/or reading ghost stories. For me, the ultimate televised ghost story is Ghostwatch. If you've never seen it, then you should go do so. And if you have, then I offer you a ghost story about what happened next...

James Garry: Failing Yet Again to Defend the Death Penalty

In a post that manages to be simultaneously a bit petulant and utterly insipid, James Garry has responded to my deconstruction of his argument on the death penalty. I've only just come across it and I've no desire to go through Garry's response* to my post in any real detail - life is too short to start the world's most boring flame war - but I did just want to respond to some of the more blatant misrepresentations of my arguments. First up:

I had meant to respond earlier to “The Nameless Libertarian’s” latest submission in our exchange on the death penalty but this is the first opportunity I have had since its publication. He’s one of the less better-mannered opponents as he can’t keep up an exchange without resorting to abuse (often a sign that my interlocutor is running out of rope, if that’s not too appropriate an analogy). And where there isn’t abuse there is poorly constructed argument.

I have to say that I am mildly amused to be accused here of being "less better-mannered" and of "abuse". While regular readers will know that I do use fruity language on occasion and will give abuse to deserving targets, I've actually been quite polite to Garry in my exchanges with him. And while it is tempting to give him both barrels now in terms of abuse, I really can't be bothered. So instead I'll say that the delicate flower probably needs to develop a thicker skin.

Take the title of his latest instalment, for instance. “Garry: Still failing to defend the death penalty”. I do not “fail” to defend the death penalty, I just don’t convert “The Nameless Libertarian” to my way of thinking. Which was never my intention. Even if I presented a treatise that “The Nameless Libertarian” found successful, it wouldn’t change his opinion. What he really means is that I fail to defend the death penalty because I do not agree with him.

Nope. What I mean when I say Garry has failed to defend the death penalty is, well, that he's failed to defend the death penalty. His case is so weak as to be largely useless. Sorry, Garry, but you do fail. But that's window-dressing. The biggest way in which Garry, wilfully or otherwise, misrepresents me and my argument is here:

I’ll repeat what he wrote: “[C]riminals are not thinking about the consequences of their actions because they do not expect to be caught”. Note the two verbs in this sentence – to think and to expect. In this context, they mean pretty much the same thing. The verb “to expect” implies some sort of thought process. In other words, “Criminals are not thinking about the consequences of their actions because they do not think they will be caught.” I would like to be able to ascribe this paradoxical construction to the author’s craft, though I suspect this grammatical fallacy was an accident. If criminals think (i.e., “expect”) that they will not be caught for committing a crime then they must know that there is punishment associated with being caught. In which case, criminals must be thinking about the consequences of their actions.

There is only one other way that “The Nameless Libertarian’s” sentence can be rendered: “Criminals are not thinking about the consequences of their actions because they cannot expect to be caught.” (That is, they lack the faculty that causes them to expect punishment). This is an even more precarious piece of reasoning. If this is the argument that “The Nameless Libertarian” intends to submit, then it is an example of petitio principii, also known as ”begging the question”.

We can dismiss the second argument as it is weak and simply incorrect. As for the first one, the words "think" and "expect" clearly have different meanings, even in this context. Don't believe me? Well, an expectation is different to a thought; if in doubt, consult a dictionary. But let's look at the context here and what I am actually saying. I am saying that criminals do not expect to be caught, and consequently they are not thinking about it when they commit their crimes. That does not mean they have never thought about the potential consequences of their actions; just that their expectations of not being caught mean they do not need to think about those consequences when perpetrating their actions. To use an analogy; I do not expect to be hit by a car when I dart across the road before the green man come on at the pedestrian crossing. That does not mean that I have never thought at all about one possible consequence of my action; rather, that I am not thinking about it when I carry out that action - perhaps because other thoughts are more pressing in my mind.

Garry asserts that I am begging the question; I'd argue that he is creating a straw man argument.

“The Nameless Libertarian” proceeds to cite Ian Brady as a reason for abolishing the death penalty because Ian Brady did not “take into account the potential consequences of [his] actions.” Really? Is he on record as saying he didn’t know the consequences of his actions? Have any credible experts said that Ian Brady did not know the consequences of his actions?

Why not assume equally that Brady did know the consequences of his actions and decided that the risk of prison was worth less than the pleasure of satisfying his murderous lusts?

Here, Garry seems to be missing the point of the work Brady is doing in my argument. The point is not that Brady may have thought that prison was worth the risk of child rape and murder; it is that he committed child rape and murder when the threat was not just of prison, but of prison and the noose. This is what is fatal to Garry's argument that the death penalty is a deterrent; Brady committed those crimes when he was running the risk of the death penalty. It would be good if Garry was actually engaging with the argument rather than another straw man representation of it. Again.

And let me respond to Garry's turgid attempts at pedantry with a turgid example of my own. Garry asserts that I cite Brady as "a reason for abolishing the death penalty". Now, there are two ways to interpret this - either that Garry thinks that I believe Brady to be a reason why the death penalty was abolished, which is just blatantly untrue, or that he forms part of my case for abolishing the death penalty. Of course, I don't need to make a case for the death penalty to be abolished as, well, it has been abolished. Rather, I am using Brady as an example to refute the essential predicate of Garry's case; that the fear of the noose will stop the likes of Brady. Put simply, it didn't.

But let's pretend for the moment that we are dealing with an eloquent, reasonable and persuasive person, and that Garry's post is 100% spot on. Yeah, I know, we're heading into the realms for fantasy here, but bear with me. Even if this had happened, it misses a salient point. Early on in his "argument", Garry writes that the extent to which murderers think about the potential consequences of their crime is central to my argument. This is not true. It may be important for the point I was trying to make about Garry's deterrence argument, but it is not my central point against the death penalty. And that point is the moral argument against state-sanctioned murder - a point which Garry, for all of his semantic pedantry, has spectacularly failed to address. No doubt Garry's response, should he make one, would centre on how the moral argument was not necessarily the point he wished to pursue. And that's fine. But it is also why, alongside his faulty logic and his straw man arguments, he is still failing to make the case for the death penalty.

*I'm linking to his post despite the fact, in breach of much blogging etiquette, he did not link to mind. What an ill-mannered young man!

Image of the Day

On Lyotard, Postmodernism and Meta-narratives

Over at The Guardian, Giles Fraser – some sort of (now former, which happened as I was editing this article) god-botherer from St Paul’s who also happens to be an expert on Nietzsche* - is writing a series of articles on liberalism. In particular, he is looking at liberalism as it is presented through the work of Isaiah Berlin. To say the series of articles has not been brilliant thus far is a massive understatement. Fraser’s articles read like the work of someone who has just figured out that there is this thing called liberalism and is making his first, tentative steps towards understanding it. Also, he doesn’t seem to understand Berlin or negative liberty. But we won’t dwell on that today; there are enough sensible comments on each article (no, really) to critique the flaws of his approach to both Berlin and liberalism. Instead, I want to take a moment and look at his muted attack on Lyotard. He invokes Lyotard’s oft quoted comment about meta-narratives – or truth, if you will.

It is safe to say that Lyotard was not a big fan of meta-narratives or truth claims. But, as always, it is worth looking at exactly what he said and why. Because the reality is far more interesting than the clichéd view that Lyotard rejected the idea of the truth.

First up, Lyotard defined postmodernism – the school of thought that he is most often associated with – as a “incredulity towards meta-narratives.” The operative word for me in that phrase is incredulity. Not rejection. He is not rejecting meta-narratives**, but expressing a suspicion of them. There may well be a valid truth claim out there somewhere, but Lyotard warns us to be suspicious of those claims and, in particular, those who make them. And the reasons for that suspicion are very interesting and, in my humble opinion, pretty convincing.

Here it is worth placing Lyotard’s writing in context. He was writing after the Second World War, when Nazi Germany – using a spurious but surprisingly persuasive claim to having found the truth – decimated Europe and murdered 6 million people who did not fit in with that truth. Furthermore, Lyotard spent many years in occupied Algeria – witnessing first-hand the devastating impact of nationalism. And Lyotard himself was a former Marxist who turned against that creed when he saw what dogmatic Marxism could do, both in Algeria and elsewhere.

Therefore, Lyotard’s suspicion of truth claims and those who make them is based on where they lead to. And throughout his work, there is the problem of the other – of what to do with that person or those persons who are not part of the dominant belief system of any society. In one work he potently refers to them as “the jews”*** – reminding us all of what can happen to that other in a society dominated by the truth claim. So let’s make it explicit; Lyotard’s suspicion of meta-narratives comes from the fact those meta-narratives have, in his day and in our own, the spectre of the gulag and the death camp hanging over them.

Don’t get me wrong, postmodernism is far from flawless as a school of thought. At its worst – such as Baudrillard’s ludicrous claim that the Gulf War did not take place**** – it is indulgent nonsense. And Lyotard himself is often a difficult author to read, sometimes being obtuse to the point of rendering his work unreadable*****. But this should not detract from the fact that his suspicion of meta-narrative is on sound intellectual ground, and that the reasons for that suspicion are, time and time again, made clear.

So it is all very well for the likes of Fraser to tut (however implicitly) at Lyotard, but it has to be remembered that Fraser is peddling his own meta-narrative. And that’s fine; he has his belief system, and it clearly offers him some sort of comfort and some sort of compass to allow him to navigate his way through life. But he should also understand why many of us remain suspicious of that meta-narrative. After all, the history of Christianity is chequered to say the least, and amply demonstrates what a dominant belief system can do to those who do not share that dominant belief.

*Quite how anyone could read the work of Nietzsche – as demented as it often is – and remain a Christian is largely beyond me.
**Indeed to do so would be completely contradictory of his overall project. You can’t be reject truth claims because, in doing so, you are making a big fat truth claim.
***The lower case is quite intentional; he is using the term to refer to all those who are excluded from any society, including the Jews in Nazi Germany.
****An example of crude verbal flashing and ivory tower intellectual thinking if ever there was one.
*****The first page of Libidinal Economy reads like body horror, for example.

Image of the Day

I do sometimes wonder why the ongoing (and increasingly tedious) occupy protests garner such anger from those not involved. It isn't so much the inconvenience (after all, unless you live or work next to one of the sites, it can't really be impacting too much on the way you live) or the fact that these demos are fundamentally incoherent - scratch the surface of any supposedly reputable political party and you will find disparate people with very different motivations, views and objectives. No, I think there are other more fundamental reasons why people object so much to these protests.

The first is the naivete of them. As soon as we hear someone like Laurie Penny banging on about the soundtrack for a revolution, it becomes very difficult to take this sort of thing seriously. This isn't a revolution. Do you know how I can tell? Because no-one is seriously trying to take power or control away from the government here. Camping in the City of London could just be classed as civil disobedience if you really push it; revolutionary, it ain't.

Of course, it is a bit harsh to kick the young for being naive; it is pretty common when you're young to think that you're going to change the world. Then you grow up.

However, there is a second reason why I think these protests may be deriving such scorn from many people. It is the arrogance of those involved to claim that they speak on behalf of the 99%. Put simply, you don't. You don't speak on behalf of me, and I am neither a banker nor a politician - ergo, I am one of the supposed 99% you claim to represent. And I would guess that you don't speak for at least 85% of those including in your spurious figure of 99%. From what I can gather, the vast majority of people don't want radical change; they want to be allowed to get on with their lives - preferably with the bills (tax 'n' all) being considerably lower. They don't want to take to the streets to occupy financial districts, and even if they did then they couldn't as they have jobs to go to and families to provide for. They just want life to a be a bit easier. And to have urban campers claiming their voice to back up a shambolic act of civil disobedience is bound to stick in their throats a bit.

Now I fully realise that I can't claim to speak on the behalf of those 99% any more than Stinky and Son: Urban Protesters can. That may be true; the important difference is, though, that I'm not wallowing in media attention through making the claim about representing that 99%. I don't speak for anyone other than me; but I'm not camping in a financial district somewhere claiming otherwise.

Don't get me wrong; people have the right to protest and any claim that everything is not OK here in Britain today has some basic relevance to reality. But to believe that this is the start of a revolution is naive, and to claim to represent the vast majority of people in this country and elsewhere is simultaneously arrogant and utterly unconvincing

Life = hectic.

∴

Blogging = Light.

No doubt you will be honoured with some thoughts from my eclectic and highly disorganised mind in the not too distant future, though.

The Sarah Jane Adventures: The Man Who Never Was

It would take a particularly sour person not to acknowledge that The Man Who Never Was as anything other than fantastically entertaining. It certainly brought a smile to my face as I watched a story that spoofed tablet computers, had James Dreyfus playing a human version of the Master (replete with middle-aged spread), created the portmanteau word Clani and has a surprisingly adult joke in response to the command (delivered by dog whistle, natch) "Grab Harrison's pen". The Skullions - a classic example of an alien species designed to look monstrous but who actually represent the good guys against the real humanoid monsters - also managed to be quite sweet in a strange way and added a certain poignancy to the story. Although, despite the overall humourous and energetic feel to the story, this one could not help but be poignant.

Because that's it for The Sarah Jane Adventures. There's no more. The show is gone. And not because it was struggling to be good, or struggling with the ratings. It wasn't cancelled. It is over because of the death of its star. And if the fact that Elisabeth Sladen may well have been dying as the recorded not just these two episodes but all the ones in this shortened season makes the whole even more poignant; not that you could tell from Sladen's performance, though. Sarah Jane Smith remains the same character she has throughout the whole series, and not just this season. Looking at her performance here - and the energy of her fellow actors and indeed the whole show - this doesn't feel like an ending. It feels like a series that can and should go on an on. It is tragic, really, that it can't.

Perhaps understandably, the show doesn't really stress the fact that is is the end. There is no The End of Time attempts at tear-jerking attempts here. Indeed it doesn't really feel like an ending; the final caption was "And the story goes on... forever". Of course, it can't. At least not on our screens. But it can in books, in fan fiction, and in the imagination of what I would imagine are thousands of children this show has inspired. And that's why, the ending, voiceover, caption and all, is pretty much perfect. It reminds me of the ending to Survival all those years ago; it references the fact that the show is over as a TV programme, but leaves the story open for those who might want to think about what happens next to Sarah Jane, Luke, Sky and the unrequited love (or at the very least affection combined with a healthy dose of attraction) between Clani. Good. Fine. That's the way it should be. The show is over; the story goes on.

Had you told me prior to seeing the first episode over half a decade ago that I would have noticed, let alone cared to the point of writing a slightly maudlin post about, the demise of this show I would have rolled my eyes at you. The very fact that I do care is tribute to the efforts not just Elisabeth Sladen, but to everyone involved in the show. They managed to turn a spin-off show into a classic in its own right. Good on all of you, and as it ends as a TV programme, here's to The Sarah Jane Adventures.

I am incredulous that the School of Politics, International Relation and Philosophy has a link to this blog on their British Government and Politics website - presumably for their students to find and use. I have to say if I was marking an essay and someone quoted this blog they would be very lucky if they didn't fail straight away. And I write this sodding blog...

That Little Question Of Faith

Over at Orphans of Liberty, James Higham has another post up writing from his Christian conservative position. In it, he writes:

Tut tut, LR – that Judaeo-Christian tradition again we’re supposed to mock and vilify. Such a pity it underpinned our whole society for centuries which, of course, we’re hellbent on denying.

Now, I'm with Longrider not in denying the existence of the Judaeo-Christian tradition, but rather questioning the extent to which that tradition actually underpins or has underpinned our society for centuries - something I've seen precious little evidence for. Furthermore, I've seen next to no evidence that people are "hellbent on denying" it. But that's not a strand I want to get into with this post. Rather, I want to point out that I have a far bigger and more deep-seated problem with that tradition.

Put simply, I don't believe in God. Therefore, the fundamental ontology of that moral philosophy is, for me, frankly nonsense. And it isn't a case that I've been in some way indoctrinated against God or the tradition that flows from the teaching of his followers. Quite the opposite; as a child, I was arguably more indoctrinated by Christianity than against it. However, since then, I have simply found that I do not have faith in God. And since God - an idea for which there is no meaningful evidence for - is an idea largely predicated on the idea of faith, a loss of it is pretty detrimental to the whole Christianity thing. But faith is something that you either have or you don't. I know people like Higham do have faith, and they are more than welcome to their beliefs. However, I really do not share their faith. And it isn't something that can be feigned - Pascal's Wager is, and always has been, utter nonsense that does not understand the real nature of faith. I do not believe in God; even if I pretended that I did it would make bugger all difference to what I actually think.

Now, an inability to believe in God does not, of course, mean that I automatically reject everything associated with that faith. I know that the Bible - a vast document written by multiple authors over the course of centuries over two millenia ago - is big enough to contain some really sage and relevant advice. It would take a truly cold-hearted, sociopathic monster to reject at least some of the Bible. Yet there is also a lot of misanthropic bilge in that book as well (in the Old Testament, in particular). Like most religious books, it has passages that its more moderate followers probably wish did not exist, and certainly do not represent their views. To find a meaningful morality in the Bible takes, at the very least, some essential cherry-picking of its contents.

Furthermore, as Higham acknowledges in his piece, other sources (including other religions) have reached similar moral codes to the Bible, but without following the same path. And this, for me, is crucial. I don't think our morality is a piece of divine work. Rather, the pragmatist in me would argue that it is people with genuine empathy skills arrive at the general morality within our society through using those empathy skills. Thus, I work out what I should and should not do to others based on what I feel I would want and deserve (two very different, but equally crucial, ideas) if I was in their position. No rocket science here; just people wanting to treat people in a reasonable manner. And therefore, no need for religion, or faith, or God in order for us to work out a moral code and to act morally.

Of course, I can understand why Christians would want to make the case for what is right within our moral code to be the result (at least in part) of their faith. Many of them do feel under threat, and while the reality is that only a very small minority of people truly want to destroy Christianity, the fact is that faith has gone from being the dominant one in our society to one of many in a multi-faith society in which probably the majority of us have, at the very least, secular inclinations. But I'd argue that the fact that some reach a reasonable morality based on the teachings of Christ is by no means an argument for Christianity being central for our morality. Others reach a similar moral code through other religions or simply through the use of empathy and reason.

In short, if you don't have faith in something, it is highly unlikely you will ever have faith in it. However, that doesn't prevent you from reaching similar (although probably not identical) conclusions to those of that faith, albeit through different channels and reasoning. We don't need Christianity; we need to treat each other with the respect they deserve and we would want if we were in their shoes.

The Age of Austerity?

Of course, the economy is struggling at the moment and people are angry about it. Those financial institutions which are at the centre of the media narrative about the economic crisis are probably bearing the brunt of the vocal criticisms from protesters the world over. But when things calm down and the protesters go home, and the finance ministers of the world step back from the void and find some other plaster to slap over the utter mess that is the global economy, we should remember that the media narrative about the big bad banks only tells part of the story. The banks were aided and abetted by complicit government regimes who often backed, if not demanded, some of the more extravagant lending decisions that have now created such headaches. Furthermore, those governments were the ones who rushed to the aid of said banks when they began to flounder with fistfuls of the taxpayer's cash. But the banks and the government were only responding to the demands of millions of people who wished to live beyond their means. You want to know why banks offered 110% mortgages? Because people were willing to take them on. And yeah, you can argue for government regulation to stop people from doing so and yeah, you can argue that banks should not have offered anything so ludicrous from a business point of view. But it was just the government and the banks that brought us here; it is we the people as well. Substantial numbers of the 99% that the occupy protests (falsely) claim to represent.

The reality is that people, government and banks were all irresponsible, and now it has reached a point where they are going to be forced to take responsibility for the implications of that lack of responsibility. And yeah, it is unfair that we all have to pay for it, and that our children (well, your children if you already have them/are planning to have them) will also have to pay for their/our mistakes. Yeah, to some extent the falsely created, inflated and maintained boom of the past two decades or so has changed things for the worse not just for us, but for the next generation as well. But there is something positive that can be passed on to the next generation well as being heeded by this one. And it all boils down to that one word: responsibility.

We need to make governments responsible for their actions. If they create unreasonable expectations with the services they claim to be able to provide, then they should be punished at the ballot box. If they spend billions part nationalising failed banks, then they should be punished at the ballot box. And if they studiously refuse to accept responsibility or learn from their mistakes then - you guessed it - they should be punished at the ballot box.

Then we have business - financial institutions or otherwise. Again, they need to be responsible for the outcomes of their own choices and decisions. To some extent all business is a gamble - sometimes taking a risk will really pay off, other times it will be a disaster. And businesses of all shapes and sizes need to realise this. But crucially, they need to understand that if they take a gamble and it doesn't pay off (and they don't have the funds to cover that gamble) they need to understand that the government - or, more properly, the taxpayer - will not be there to bail them out. If your business fails, then it fails; there is no recourse to the public purse.

And finally we the people - we have to understand that, collectively, we cannot always get what we want. That money, those homes, those mortgages are not rights - rather, they have to be earned. And when all this is understood, we need to get out heads around the idea that the state does not exist to make up for any shortfalls between what is in our wallets and what makes up our expectations. Yeah, the government is going to have spend less on public services. A whole host of things that people had started to take for granted will no longer be there unless they have the cash to go out and get them for themselves. Which will be deeply disappointing for some, but a true return to reality for all.

It will be interesting to see how the history books end up describing the era we are now entering. So often, I hear it referred to as another age of austerity. Yet I can't help but wonder whether it will one day be seen as the return to reality; that, far from being an aberration, it was actually the return to normality after a rather ludicrous era when all sorts of outrageous claims, such as the supposed yet largely impossible end to boom and bust, were not only made, but also widely believed.  That the myths of a comprehensive and ever more extensive welfare state were exposed, and the idea of people, businesses and governments being responsible became acknowledged as common sense once again.

Whether or not this happens is largely dependent on the people; on you and me. It is about whether we allow ourselves to be deceived by business and government on an ongoing basis, and whether we allow self-aggrandising politicians to again sell us the most improbable myths in return for votes they blatantly do not deserve. But above all it is about whether we are going to invest so much time and energy again in allowing ourselves to be deceived by ourselves, or whether we face up to a reality where the future isn't always better, and where we can't always have more and more. It's about, in short, whether we are going to face up to reality.

The coming age - of austerity, or reality, or whatever you want to call it - is going to hurt, and its going to hurt some more than others. But we can avoid a repetition of that pain in the future by keeping our feet on the ground and by making ourselves and those people and institutions around actually responsible for what they say, promise and actually do.

We can make the age of austerity into a return to reality - and in doing so, witness the ressurrection of the idea of responsibility in all of our lives.

Why the Labour Party Hates Tony Blair

Or large swathes of that party at the very least. I dare say, if you asked them, a lot of Labour party types would point towards the Iraq War and the shameless toadying to the repellent George W. Bush as the reason for their hatred of the man in question. And while I do think that there is a lot of validity for hating Blair because of that carnage he helped to unleash in the Middle East, I can't help but feel that a lot of the rage against Blair within his party was muted in, say, 2005, when the party was looking for him to take them to an unprecedented third victory at the polls despite being a crucial part of the drive toward Baghdad. Yeah, people in his party might be concerned by Iraq, but I think there is another, deeper reason why just the mention of his name at the party conference by the incumbent leader leads so many of their number to boo. And it's this - they hate the fact that Blair was so successful.

Of course, no party truly dislikes a leader just because they can win elections for them - after all, that's what they're in the political game for. I doubt Thatcher would have been tolerated by her party for as long as she was without that proven track record of getting voters to put their "x" in the right box on election day. John Major certainly wouldn't have survived for any length of time whatsoever had he not been able to deliver that spectacular surprise election victory in 1992. The problem with Blair isn't that he won; its what he had to do in order to win.

Don't get me wrong, Blair was a statist. But he certainly wasn't a socialist, and I'd struggle to really class him as a social democrat. He was probably marginally to the right of Ted Heath - a former Tory PM. Yet I think there was a reason why he was like that. It is because that is precisely what he had to do to win. And he was right; a left wing Labour party struggles at the polls. The only time they triumphed as truly socialist was in 1945; in the elections immediately after that, they struggled to stay ahead as the true nature of their radical statist agenda was clear for all to see. The post-war consensus is a double-edged sword - people may not have been willing for the radical grab of economic power by the government to be rolled back, but likewise they did not want to see it expanded.

Which is why, in the period between 1951 and 1997 which saw any number if Labour leaders, only one triumphed at the national polls - Harold Wilson. As a power-hungry self-publicist willing to compromise pretty much anything to get himself into No. 10, Wilson was very much the prototype Blair. Wilson may have started as a socialist, but he governed as a lacklustre social democrat who was willing to manipulate the whole devaluation crisis so it worked, as much as possible, in his favour rather than for the people he was elected to govern. And to this day, you can still come across people in the party he used to lead who hate him for his willingness to compromise. But like Blair, he got it, and he understood that Labour does not win elections as, well, Labour. The next Labour leader to properly understand that was Blair - hence, as a matter of symbolism rather meaningful policy, his war against Clause IV.

There can be no doubt that Blair was an election winner (even if he did have that awkward tendency, owing to our strange electoral system, to win well on a minority of those who voted), but he could only do so by, at the very least, making Labour into something other than Labour - hence New Labour. Because, fundamentally, the people don't vote in sufficient quantities for traditional/old Labour. And Blair was the person who brought this into sharp relief. He was the person who showed that if you want to win big in this country, you cannot be (or at least sound like) a social democrat - and that it is a sin to be a socialist, at least in electoral terms.

And that's why so many members of his own party hate him. He is living, breathing proof that there is no progressive majority in this country, and that for Labour to win it requires what is, for them, ugly compromise. He is a bit like how an Archbishop of Canterbury would be for the Church of England who drastically increases church attendance but only by saying "y'know that belief in God thing? It's optional".

So those who believe they have got their party back with the Miliband Minor leadership will soon learn the same lesson that those who believe that Brown's ascendancy to the leadership restored their party to them - yeah, your guy's in charge, but he brings with him the power - or perhaps even the responsibility - to lose elections. Of course, at some point there will be a leader who gets it and - without any rehabilitation of their spiritual forebears Wilson or Blair - the Labour party will beat the Conservative party at a General Election by being, well, a more fashionable (for reasons that defy understanding) version of that Conservative party.

In short, Labour hates their most successful leader because he demonstrated to them across a whole decade that they can only win at the ballot box if they are not Labour.

Occupy! Why?

I'd just like to point out that I'm doing my own little bit for the Occupy protests that are sweeping the world. I'm occupying my kitchen table, writing on my laptop, with a film on in the background. Yeah, it's not a lot, but I'm pretty sure that by the end of the day I will have acheived just as much as those protesting today.

It's not that I'm utterly hostile to the case being made by some of these protestors. I do think that there is something very wrong with some of the relationships between governments and certain financial institutions/companies. I certainly think it is a terrible idea for any government to spend billions bailing out failed banks. But I have a simple solution to this - a minimal government that is neither empowered or able to afford such actions. Whereas those in these protests don't seem to have any other plan other than tax the banks more to fund the state.

Which, of course, is nonsense because, as should be clear to everyone other than the terminally retarded, the state is a big part of the problem here. It shouldn't be given more money, just as in the same way a crack addict shouldn't be given more crack. Any solution to the problems that have befallen us should not include funding a big part of those problems.

Plus, what precisely are these protests going to achieve? In fact, there is something faintly pathetic about those occupying financial districts, not least because it is a Saturday and these districts will be largely unoccupied by those that work there. It seems to me to be a splendid symbol of absolute impotence that these people are stood on the streets, making the sort of demands that those targetted will simply shrug off if they ever get around to noticing them in the first place. It is a bit like that angry toddler demanding candy from the disinterested parent. Only one side is going to win, and its the side with the power.

Of course, people should be allowed to protest if they so wish, and I hope that these people enjoy their time trying to make a difference. But take any claims that this is some sort of worldwide revolution with a pinch of salt. Come Monday, these people will be back at the work so they can pay the(ever-increasing) bills, or signing on so someone else can pay them. If change is going to come, then it will be more radical than the sort of ersatz change demanded by many of these protestors. Because not only we will have to deal with the bloated, corporatist organisations who suckle at the teat of big government, but also tackle the big government that so willing offers itself to its preferred clients. So when Westminster is being occupied at the same time as the City, people might finally be getting it...

The Sarah Jane Adventures: The Curse of Clyde Langer

The Curse of Clyde Langer is one of those odd sort of stories that sometimes crop up in the Doctor Who universe. Odd in the sense that the menace driving the story is very much incidental and in the background - something not helped by the fact that Hetocumtek was a largely inanimate totem pole that did little other than some lightening FX and the occasional gurn. No, this was a character driven piece - much like, say, Turn Left from the parent programme. And as a result, it was an excellent addition to the series.

The notion of someone slowly being written out of their own life is hardly new, but the idea that Clyde loses his friends every time they say his name created a decent amount of tension as the characters suddenly flipped after saying those two words. Furthermore, the slow disintegration in his life - until he was living on the streets - was a surprisingly dark plot line for a programme from CBBC. It was also good that the reality of living on the street was alluded to without the story ever becoming too didactic (even if the strikingly clean and styled hair of Clyde's street friend, Ellie, was stretching the bounds of credibility perhaps a bit too far). Finally, it was good to see that those who turned against Clyde were not simply turned into hating monsters, but actually experienced an almost heart-breaking sort of grief that they felt but could not articulate the reasons for. So the script, here, not only works, but really works and offers the sort of emotional depth that comes as a pleasant surprise for what is marketed as a kids' show.

Of course, having a piece centred on one character is a bit of a risk - I mean, it is predicated on the person playing that character being able to effectively carry the show. Here, it is worth noting that The Sarah Jane Adventures is immensely lucky to have Daniel Anthony as Clyde (and Anjli Mohindra as Rani, for that matter). Clyde could so easily be a deeply irritating character, being cocksure, full of himself and, often, set up as the comedic element to the show. However, Anthony seems to have that ability to project a certain charisma without coming across as arrogant and/or deeply irritating. And here, he manages to balance his performance between desperation at losing everything and the sort of optimistic determination that make Clyde likable in the first place. The series made the right choice in ditching the one-dimensional Kelsey Hooper after the first story, and they are very lucky to have found Anthony. Let's hope he goes on to do other, interesting things as this show comes to an end.

In short, this was an exceptional piece of TV and makes the fact that we only have two more episodes of what has been a strikingly good series left even more tragic. And the quality of these scripts demonstrates that it has been too long since Phil Ford - co-author of the brilliant special The Waters of Mars - has written something for the parent programme. So if the Moff could make a space for Ford next year, that would be very welcome. As would an appearance by Clyde Langer - who has, after all, met the Doctor twice. Talent such as this deserves a wider audience than the one afforded to the (admittedly excellent) Sarah Jane Adventures...

Liam Fox resigns.

Philip Hammond becomes Defence Secretary.

Justine Greening becomes Transport Secretary.

I wonder precisely why we are expected to care.

On a different but related note, take a look at this article by Matthew Parris. It's very good. As any article that begins with the sentence "politicians are not normal people" is bound to be.

Oh, you poor dears!

MPs whining, through the mouthpiece of their doctor:

The new, tougher expenses regime is damaging MPs' "mental wellbeing", the doctor who looks after them has said.

Dr Ira Madan told a committee looking into the system that its "frustrations and difficulties" had increased workloads but decreased rewards.

She also said MPs were tired of being the butt of jokes about their expenses.

Hmmm. It is difficult to feel too much sympathy for MPs on this one - particularly since the current system, as frustrating and difficult as it might be, is down to the gross abuse of the previous system by many of them. And as for them being the butt of jokes? Oh, please. The poor fucking dears. Aren't they sensitive flowers? Seriously, if you are that thin-skinned that quasi-topical jibes about expenses, you are in the wrong profession.

And she said they were coming under greater pressure because of the "increased ability for constituents to readily contact members by email".

God for-fucking-bid that MPs should be readily contactable by MPs - the very people they are elected and paid to represent! What sort of a crazy system is that?

I was once taught that if you do something in your job and get caught, you should keep your head down, work bloody hard and prove yourself so your sin is ultimately forgiven. What do our MPs do now a system has been put in place after a scandal that dragged the Commons through the gutter and back again? Groan and grumble about how their lives have been made just a little bit more difficult. It is utterly pathetic, and further tarnishes their already devastated reputations.

Quote of the Day

From Nick Cohen on the departure of Dan Hodges from The New Statesman for not following the pro-Miliband Minor line:

I know that editors censor the world over because they are frightened of the secret police, authoritarian government, megalomaniac proprietors, corporate paymasters, terrorist militias and the like. But what can one say about a magazine that censors because it is frightened of Ed Miliband?

The Unrelenting Tedium of Modern British Politics

Ok, so regular readers will have clocked that there has been limited writing about politics on this blog of late. Indeed, there have only really been sporadic updates that, when they do come, tend to be on much more geeky subjects that what passes for the political mainstream in this country. The reason for this is simple; modern British politics is beyond boring. And anyone who disagrees should take a look at the recent party conference season.

The party conferences have long been lacklustre commercials for whichever party happens to be fawning in front of the media in a given week. I don't doubt that a lot of effort is put into those conferences - the problem is that they all end up being largely indistinguishable from one another. But you don't even have to look at the content - vapid and largely non-existence as it may be - of those conferences to see just how massively shite modern British politics has become, since the leaders of each of the three main parties seemed happy to condense the mediocrity of the incumbent incarnations of their party into one short (yet always still too long) speech.

Clegg seemed to be reminding his party that there is a point to being in political power after they had spent a few days bashing their coalition partners and confirming every cliche that the Lib Dems have never really wanted to be in power when it came down to it. The odious little turd Miliband Minor made a speech that sounded like a chipped checklist of things it might be nice to have a party leader say if that party leader didn't actually want to say anything after all. The only two noteworthy bits of his speech came when he bashed Blair (yeah, he's a cunt, but he won three elections for your party, Ed m'boy, whereas you're on course to win zero) and when he seemed to set himself up as the final arbiter of what constitutes ethical business. I don't think there is anything wrong with people deciding which business match their idea of what is good - I think we all do this, all the time - but I do have a problem with Ed Miliband (a man who, lest we forget, has never done anything other than work as a politician really) in power deciding which businesses it would be good to punish on a whim. Finally, we had Cameron delivering the sort of speech he was born to deliver - an ad man's speech full of blandishments and empty cant. His speech seemed to be designed to offer vague yet meaningless hope in dark economic times, at the same time as avoiding saying anything that might, well, be worth hearing. The fact that it failed to convince even the party faithful that he is on the right course should come as no surprise - the only course he has actually sketched out is that he's really like to stay in power for the foreseeable, if that's not too much hassle. And given the performance of his two main rivals, he'll probably get his wish.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not disenchanted with politics as a concept - I'd just argue that, whatever these terrible, tedious men thing they are indulging in, it isn't politics. Rather we are seeing the dragging on of a tedious, real life soap opera of watching three contradictory, self-serving parties vying for a power that they have no real intention of using in any meaningful way even if they are elected. So you'll have to forgive me if I can't get too excited about modern politics, and you'll have to forgive me if posting remains irregular moving forward and instead focuses on things I actually find interesting. Modern British politics has become about the perpetual performance of meaningless political posturing; the world's worst political drama, played out in real life. It is House of Cards without the plot; The West Wing without the interesting characters. As such, it is only worth paying the most scant and fleeting attention to in this day and age.

The Doctor Who Confidential Controversy

So, Doctor Who’s making of show has been cancelled. Regular readers will know that I am a big fan of Doctor Who. That said, I am struggling to really care about the demise of Confidential.

The first reason is because, try as I might, I could never quite buy into that series. Yes, it would occasionally throw an interesting light on elements of the episode I’d just watched, but more often than not the whole thing felt like an over-long come-down after the main event. Having just watched an episode of Doctor Who I can make up my own mind as to how good I think it is. I don’t need RTD or Moffat telling me, in often an embarrassingly gushing manner, why they think it is a classic. As a result of this, I stopped watching Doctor Who Confidential relatively early in its run. But, as chance would have it, I saw the recent episode of the show relating to the episode Closing Time.

Unfortunately, it merely reinforced my thoughts about the show; overlong and self-indulgent. Yes, it was interesting to see how the Doctor jumping through the window stunt was done. But frankly I could not care less about some Radio 1 DJ I’d never heard of being in the background to a scene. Nor do I have any real interest in Matt Smith and James Corden arsing around on set. I have no doubt that their little videos seemed amazingly funny to them during the long, arduous night shoots necessary for the episode. Unfortunately, in the cold light of day, they would probably work far better as half-remembered moments in the lives of those two actors rather than videos destined for viewing by the wider public.

The second reason why I can’t get excited about the demise of Doctor Who Confidential is that, quite frankly, it is a fucking miracle that it existed in the first place, let alone ran for over half a decade. I cannot think of any other show in TV history that has had a 45 minute making of show broadcast straight after the new episode from the parent show. It represents a fantastic investment of time and resources not in Doctor Who itself, but rather people talking about Doctor Who. It is no wonder that the format became (at least for me) rapidly very staid, if not outright boring. There are only so many conversations you can have about the mighty Who, particularly if you are not allowed to have conversations like “Partners in Crime - that was a bit shit, wasn’t it?”

Of course, it is perhaps unfortunate that Confidential has gone in the same year that the death of its star has ended The Sarah Jane Adventures and Torchwood has almost certainly committed suicide across ten long, thankless weeks. And I would feel happier about the show being axed if its budget was being put towards the increasingly cash-strapped parent programme, although I expect the money can’t be reinvested because it just isn’t there anymore. But ultimately for those truly lamenting the loss of Doctor Who Confidential it might be helpful to think about it this way – it is best not to mourn it, but to celebrate the fact that it existed, and ran for so long, in the first place.

The Sarah Jane Adventures: Sky

As the good Doctor heads off into the stars for his pre-Christmas break (well, he has had a busy year, what with not really dying and everything), one of his previous companions jumps back onto the screens – albeit for just three short weeks. Yup, it is time for the return of The Sarah Jane Adventures.

Any returning show runs the risk of not being quite as good as its last series – witness the nosedive in quality between Torchwood dealing with the Children of Earth and the unintentionally ironically named Miracle Day (the only miracle is that they were allowed to spread that boring farrago of nonsense across 10 weeks). Mercifully, Sky does not show any dip in quality. In fact, this is very much business as usual for The Sarah Jane Adventures. And that should be celebrated, because this series proves to be constantly entertaining.

The story zips along at a fast pace and is blessed, in Rani and Clyde, with two supporting characters (and the actors playing them, of course) that just work within the series. They are not so serious that they become boring. Nor are they so self-aware that they damage the drama. Rather, they fit in perfectly within the story and each play a convincing, and logically consistent, role within that story. Frankly, the tedious Gwen Cooper could learn a lot from Rani and Clyde.

There is also humour here, but it is not obtrusive. The banter between Rani’s parents, for example, or Sarah Jane’s attempts to explain away the fact that she has a new baby (and that baby goes from tiny to teenager across the course of one day) all help to keep the episodes light without undermining the story. Again, the performances help. This sort of story could very easily be over-acted and/or turned into a parody of itself. Instead, the actors seem to pitch it perfectly.

But what of the story? Well, it is safe to say that it is not exactly ground-breaking. In fact, after the River Song/Melody Pond saga in the most recent series of Doctor Who, a child with extraordinary power feels very familiar (and that’s without noting the similarities between Sky and elements of Delta and the Bannermen). But the story never becomes a shameless photocopy of previous entries into the Who universe. Yes, it may not be iconoclastic, but it does exactly what it needs to do – it entertains at the same time as introducing a new character into the series.

Ultimately, Sky is yet further evidence that this series has a firm place within the Doctor Who universe. It is never quite as good as the parent show, but it is streets ahead of the more often than not lamentable Torchwood. As such, it is always worth watching. So if you haven’t already discovered the The Sarah Jane Adventures, you should do so. Before it is too late.

Sarah Palin: Not Running For President

The phrase "thank fuck" prings to mind. Now she can get back to doing what she does best - pontificating about politics, rather than actually engaging with it. Or whatever it is the slack-jawed lackwit.

Now, just for Perry. And Bachmann. And... so on.

The (False?) Phoenix of LPUK

Over at their website, whoever is running LPUK these days is arguing that the party is rising from the ashes of the scandal and infighting that befell (and damn near destroyed) it earlier this year. They do so in a poorly written, misspelled and completely unsubstantiated post. It does make me wonder who is still supporting that party and precisely why they are doing so, given everything that has happened this year. Still, each to their own, I suppose. But I can't help but think that Libertarian Home represents a far better destination for former LPUK members than whatever hollowed out shell of that party still exists.

Doctor Who: The Wedding of River Song

Now, there are certain very dramatic things that a writer can do in their show. Killing off the lead character is certainly one. Especially if that happens in the opening episode of the series, swiftly followed by a slow countdown to that actually happening within the overall narrative. And the drama is only intensified if it is a lead character of a show that has been running for 48 years with that same lead character at the heart of it (albeit played by different actors of varying levels of talent). As openings go, the murder of the Doctor on the side of Lake Silencio is a pretty impressive way to open up a season of Doctor Who. It does also make the season finale very difficult to write, and to pull off in a way that will convince even just some of the viewers, let alone all of them. So, how did Moffat get on with it all, then?

First up, you have to admire the ambition of this episode. To create a universe of static time, where Area 52 is installed by the USA in a pyramid, where Churchill has become and remains Caesar (and spends at least some time dancing with Cleopatra), and where an unexpectedly alive Doctor is a bearded soothsayer imprisoned in the Tower of London requires a pretty hyperactive imagination. Of course, sometimes ambition doesn't quite pay off in Doctor Who - if only in terms of the realisation, as evidenced here by the hot-air balloon Minis flying across London at the start of this episode. They looked very cartoon-like; so much so that it was slightly distracting. Yeah, we know they are not real, but do they really have to look that unreal? But overall the attempt to create an alternate universe worked well forever existing in the same second was nice, and a brilliant concept to boot. It was nice to see Charles Dickens talking about his next Christmas Special, and if we are going to have a massive info-dump throughout about half of the episode, then why not have it as a conversation between the Doctor and Winston Churchill?

This was also a relatively complicated narrative. While I believe even the most casual of viewers will have picked up on what was going on and followed the story if they were so inclined, the dual narratives - of the Doctor trying to save himself at the same time as River ruining his plans by trying to save him as well - was much more complicated than your standard RTD season finale. It was also nice how the stories dovetailed at the end, and we were given the Doctor back - after he asked a favour from the Teselecta rather than just walking moodily away. Furthermore, it is also good that the Doctor, as far as his enemies are concerned, died - therefore there can be no more getting his enemies to flee by reading books or by getting them to trawl their visual memory banks. This story leaves the Doctor as an unknown (except to his friends) mad man with a box - just the way the whole thing began.

It was also good to see Rory threatened with death but then being saved by his wife before he got wiped out (again). It was also nice that the script acknowledged that he keeps on dying. It would be even nicer if this drew a line under the whole Rory dies all the time thing. Let's not have episodes ending with the apparent death of Mr Pond. Unless, y'know, he actually does die.

And the moment when the Doctor decided he should go to face his destiny was brilliant, even if it did bring a tear to my eye. I thought that Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart would just vanish from the series, never to be heard of again. But after the death of the man who played him for decades, the show made the decision to let the Doctor know that one of his oldest and most loyal friends had also passed away. But the Brigadier never forgot the Doctor. He was always there, waiting for his mad old alien friend, with a glass of brandy. A wonderful little moment, played brilliantly by Smith, and a fitting tribute to Nicholas Courtney. I hope they find a way to do something as nice for the late Elisabeth Sladen.

But I'm skirting the issue here. There was much to enjoy, but was it the way in which the Doctor died but didn't ultimately satisfying? Well, no. Then again, it never could be. You cannot kill off your lead character and then not have killed him off without some sort of cop-out clause in your script. But here the episode did not, at least, do too badly. At least it wasn't obvious idea of the Flesh Doctor being killed on the beach; the use of the Teselecta was, at least for me, slightly more surprising. And since the Resurrection of the Doctor was always going to be a bit of a cop out, it is better that it was a slightly unexpected cop-out rather than the obvious one.

And there were other problems too. Not least the fact that Madame Kovarian and (in particular)the Silence were underused. Look, the Silence are a great enemy, Mr Moffat. Give them time to shine. Please, please, please can we have an episode next year where they are placed centre stage? Not just afterthoughts and the partial motive power to your overall narrative?

And while we're on the subject of the next season, let's try to tone down the scope of the threat a little bit. Last season, the whole of the universe was at stake in the finale. This season, the whole of time was decaying. What next? Is there any way to raise the stakes for the next season finale (which may well be the last stand of the Eleventh Doctor?) Well, yes, but it involves more of a threat to the Doctor and company rather than everything else there has ever been ever. The Caves of Androzani is consistently voted one of the best Doctor Who stories of all time, yet its scope is really rather small. Some soldiers, a corrupt politician, a disfigured madman in fetish wear and the Doctor and Peri (not forgetting the very unconvincing monster). No threat to the universe, just a little local trouble that could have lethal consequences for both of the then leads of the show. I'd like to see Moffat doing something like that. And I'd also like to see him doing something spooky again. Because while The Wedding of River Song was a breathless roller-coaster of an episode, it was only the awesome physical presence (as opposed to anything they said or did) of the Silence and the pit of flesh-eating skulls that could send a shiver up the spine. We hear a lot about the darkness of Moffat-era Who. Fine, it is darker than the RTD era, and most of those that preceded it. But let's make sure it is scary as well.

But overall, I feel immensely satisfied by the way this season ended. Not the best episode that the series has, or will, ever produce(d), to be sure. But a good finale that tied up enough of the loose ends to leave me, at the very least, feeling positive about the whole thing, but with enough up in the air to make me desperately excited to see what happens next.

And the question was, of course, "Doctor Who?" It has been the one asked for damn near half a century now, and again I'm excited to see where all this is going as we head towards that fiftieth anniversary and the Fall of the Eleventh...