Foreign Desk: Soft Paternalism in the UK
In recent weeks, we have reported on the expansion of government powers under the New Labour government in Britain. Most recognize that this development is not a return of old-style authoritarianism, and British commentators and journalists have sought new words, like the Economist’s “soft paternalism”, to explain the role of state power in contemporary British society. We have identified one central dynamic behind this “new authoritarianism”, namely the recasting of informal relations of trust between individuals in society, into legal relations where disputes are resolved formally through law. This ends up renegotiating social life so that there is less trust and solidarity amongst individuals, and more penetration of our lives by the state.
The British press has been dominated this week by a scandal which points to another transformation, this time of the state itself. On 25th April, the British Home Office minister, Charles Clarke, publicly admitted that since 1999, over 1,000 foreign convicts had been released from jail, having served out their sentences. Under British law, they ought to have been considered for deportation rather than be released. It was discovered that nearly 300 foreign prisoners had been released even after the Home Office became aware of the problem. Five of those individuals re-released have since re-offended, and a hunt is currently underway by the police to detain some of the high-risk offenders.
We should not under-estimate the importance of this scandal. Calls for Charles Clarke’s resignation have come from all across the political and media spectrum. More broadly, the crisis has been understood as an indication of the government’s loss of grip over public administration. Comparisons have been made with the 1992 “black Wednesday”, when the British pound was forced out of the European exchange rate mechanism (ERM). That was the day, according to most commentators, when the Conservative government, led by Prime Minister, John Major, lost its reputation for economic competence. This week’s events, dubbed “black April”, have been seen as the moment when the Labour government lost its reputation for tackling crime, a central plank of its domestic political agenda.
The parallel is apt, but not for the reasons given. Instead, what it expresses is a particular vision of the state as service-provider. In 1992, the ‘service’ was economic stability, and the exit of the British pound was taken as a sign that the government could not deliver. This came at a time when the economy was increasingly being seen as a technical machine to be administrated by experts, rather than a sphere of human activity containing competing visions of social justice. This was why the public’s loss of trust in the government’s expertise was so damaging: expertise was the new standard against which political performance was being judged. This week, the ‘service’ has been the protection of citizens, and the Home Office’s failure to deport foreigners has been taken as evidence that the Tony Blair and his ministers are no longer able to preserve public safety.
This understanding of the state as service provider has come through in the reactions from all sides to the foreign prisoners debacle. The overwhelming response has been to attack the government for incompetence, or to point to the unwieldy entity that is the Home Office. Martin Kettle in the British Guardian, for instance, argues that the crisis is not one of politics, but is rather a failure of management. He is certainly right about the nature of the crisis, but the problem for Labour is that its political program is wedded to efficient service provision. If that fails, it suffers a huge political defeat. Those commentators seeking to go beyond ad hominem attacks on Charles Clarke have gone no further than prison service reform, another technical matter that remains within the parameters of the current debate.
We must instead recognise in the current scandal the degeneration of politics to matters of administrative competence. What is at stake here came through in a throw away line in an Economist article. The magazine concedes that “whether foreigners should automatically be up for deportation after doing time is open to debate: they have after all, paid their dues, just like native criminals have”. In fact, that is exactly what is not open to debate. The notion that foreigners who have served time in Britain should automatically be considered for deportation has gone largely unchallenged. Yet this is the political needle in the bureaucratic haystack. Conflating nationality and criminality has been raised to an art by this Labour government, in particular in its criminalization of asylum seekers. When management crises take the appearance of politics, more important issues such as these go unheeded, and everyone’s liberty is compromised.
The British press has been dominated this week by a scandal which points to another transformation, this time of the state itself. On 25th April, the British Home Office minister, Charles Clarke, publicly admitted that since 1999, over 1,000 foreign convicts had been released from jail, having served out their sentences. Under British law, they ought to have been considered for deportation rather than be released. It was discovered that nearly 300 foreign prisoners had been released even after the Home Office became aware of the problem. Five of those individuals re-released have since re-offended, and a hunt is currently underway by the police to detain some of the high-risk offenders.
We should not under-estimate the importance of this scandal. Calls for Charles Clarke’s resignation have come from all across the political and media spectrum. More broadly, the crisis has been understood as an indication of the government’s loss of grip over public administration. Comparisons have been made with the 1992 “black Wednesday”, when the British pound was forced out of the European exchange rate mechanism (ERM). That was the day, according to most commentators, when the Conservative government, led by Prime Minister, John Major, lost its reputation for economic competence. This week’s events, dubbed “black April”, have been seen as the moment when the Labour government lost its reputation for tackling crime, a central plank of its domestic political agenda.
The parallel is apt, but not for the reasons given. Instead, what it expresses is a particular vision of the state as service-provider. In 1992, the ‘service’ was economic stability, and the exit of the British pound was taken as a sign that the government could not deliver. This came at a time when the economy was increasingly being seen as a technical machine to be administrated by experts, rather than a sphere of human activity containing competing visions of social justice. This was why the public’s loss of trust in the government’s expertise was so damaging: expertise was the new standard against which political performance was being judged. This week, the ‘service’ has been the protection of citizens, and the Home Office’s failure to deport foreigners has been taken as evidence that the Tony Blair and his ministers are no longer able to preserve public safety.
This understanding of the state as service provider has come through in the reactions from all sides to the foreign prisoners debacle. The overwhelming response has been to attack the government for incompetence, or to point to the unwieldy entity that is the Home Office. Martin Kettle in the British Guardian, for instance, argues that the crisis is not one of politics, but is rather a failure of management. He is certainly right about the nature of the crisis, but the problem for Labour is that its political program is wedded to efficient service provision. If that fails, it suffers a huge political defeat. Those commentators seeking to go beyond ad hominem attacks on Charles Clarke have gone no further than prison service reform, another technical matter that remains within the parameters of the current debate.
We must instead recognise in the current scandal the degeneration of politics to matters of administrative competence. What is at stake here came through in a throw away line in an Economist article. The magazine concedes that “whether foreigners should automatically be up for deportation after doing time is open to debate: they have after all, paid their dues, just like native criminals have”. In fact, that is exactly what is not open to debate. The notion that foreigners who have served time in Britain should automatically be considered for deportation has gone largely unchallenged. Yet this is the political needle in the bureaucratic haystack. Conflating nationality and criminality has been raised to an art by this Labour government, in particular in its criminalization of asylum seekers. When management crises take the appearance of politics, more important issues such as these go unheeded, and everyone’s liberty is compromised.
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