We are not a political party. We are not running for office. We are sitting around a kitchen table, any kitchen table, and discussing who should clear up this forlorn and messy country.
We are not personally ambitious. We have our hopes and fears. Soon, however, the gates will open, and a crowd of do-gooders will be asking for our votes. An election is at hand.
Be wary. Do not believe their pledges and promises. We must remember who we are. We are employing them, not the other way round. We pay for their salaries, their perks, and pensions. We expect them to work, behave well, and not spend the time bickering in some neo-Gothic playground about who should do what, with what, and to whom.
A citizens’ manifesto
In the past, we have often been to blame. We have not offered clear instructions. We have fallen for their paper miracles. We have lazily absorbed their rants. From now on, however, with the help of the internet, we will offer our own priorities and expect them to listen. We are not looking for heroes but those we can trust.
That is the purpose of our citizens’ manifesto.
We can anticipate their sales patter. They will offer us prosperity. They will explain how they can grow the economy to pay for our social services. They will find a way (via taxation) to encourage us to work harder. They will suggest that we have been living beyond our means, but, fortunately, they have a scheme to build an AI-robot factory in a field near Cambridge that will solve all our problems. Do not believe them.
Since WW2, governments have promoted many such schemes, from Harold Wilson’s ‘white heat of technology’ to the DeLorean car factory in Ulster and the dredging of the Tees. They proclaimed, then abandoned, the HS2 rail links to Manchester. They wasted our money.
In the 1980s and 1990s, however, we were outgunned by the wild west of California’s Silicon Valley. Our governments did not understand the meaning of broadband. They thought it was another kind of entertainment. They wanted short-term profits from private investors, rather than the benefits of a national information service that spread across banking, medicine, and education. Some 40 years later, some parts of the country are still waiting.
Meanwhile, the old-fashioned links that once connected an almost United Kingdom were neglected. During the 1960s, the government streamlined the railways and abandoned the two-track lifelines that joined seaside or country towns to the main network. We lost a cheap and eco-friendly means of transport between our rural suppliers and their urban customers.
Back to the grassroots
We must never forget that we citizens are the ones who provide growth to the economy, nobody else. Political parties cannot do so. We launch our own businesses, seek investment, have thoughtful ideas, and find others to share them. If we prosper, the country prospers.
In our turn, we expect those who represent us at a national level to provide us with (1) a fast, secure broadband infrastructure comparable with similar nations, (2) less-polluting transport, and (3) trouble-free relations with our neighbours. These may not be dazzling slogans, but we will judge our MPs by their skill in delivering them.
Be wary of definitions. Treat their statistics with caution. The GDP (gross domestic product) is one way to measure national prosperity, but it relies upon honest people who fill in their forms correctly. Not everyone does so.
There are many kinds of prosperity. They do not all need large factories. In economic textbooks, our countryside is called an ‘intangible asset’ because it cannot be expressed in the language of money. It leaves no impression on a financial spreadsheet, but its inherent wealth beggars every bank in the world.
If we balance the ledger at the expense of our environment, we suffer the consequences. In 1989, ten publicly owned water authorities were sold into private hands. The origin of life, water, was treated as a commodity to be traded in the market.
According to one ITV documentary, less than 14% of our waterways now satisfy good ecological standards. None were excellent: some were disgusting. An accumulation of 30 years of sewage was discharged into the river Wye in 2020. Waterways in the Midlands were poisoned with chemicals from sewage, fertilisers, and pesticides. Many were dead to fish.
Our health suffers as well. By mistake, we have contaminated the air that we breathe. According to researchers at Imperial College, London, 4000 fellow citizens died prematurely in 2019 from inhaling the toxic metropolitan air.
The remedies are known
There should be no disagreement. The facts can be checked: the remedies are known. The government has made solemn pledges. There may be differences of opinion about the time scale and priorities, but none to cause bad feeling over a kitchen table.
Unfortunately, this is not the way in which our system works. It is confrontational. If there is nothing to quarrel about, our political parties will quarrel anyway. Their goal is to win the next election. Our task as citizens is to keep their behaviour within civilised limits.
We must instruct our eager applicants (4) to clean the rivers and beaches, (5) to improve the quality of the city air, (6) and to work with others to lessen the dangers of global warming.
Then we must help them to disentangle the social services.
In Britain, we are proud of our social services. Those were our post-war achievements, when, in the wake of that slaughter, we established a national health service, better public education, low-cost housing and support for the disabled. The paradox of war is that, when the rubble has been cleared away, we remember the true value of human lives.
Defying national poverty, our social services were developed by private charities, local authorities, the churches, and central government. Over the decades, the balance between the former partners has shifted. Central government provides most of the money and calls too many of the shots, while the local authorities rely upon what they are given.
That is the wrong way round.
Regional autonomy
Every district has its different needs. Some have elderly citizens but a shortage of carers. Some have too many teenage ravers on motorised scooters but too few well-lit bus stops. It is impossible for a central government to apply the same standards of service around the country without running into more anomalies than a village street has potholes.
Some regions have hi-tech hospitals but are under-supplied with neighbourhood clinics. Some have large comprehensive schools, but too few sixth-form academies. Some have leisure centres with Olympic-size swimming pools, but no libraries or theatres.
We have yet to devise a system whereby every authority – local, regional, or national – can develop the range of services appropriate for its needs. The stumbling block is the Treasury. The main tax-and-spending powers of the country are retained by the central government, as they were in the days of the royal exchequer.
Local authorities have limited powers to raise money on their own account, although their services must comply with the requirements, laid down by parliament. If a government runs into financial difficulty, it cuts back on the money given to the social services, confident that the blame will be directed more towards the councils than to itself.
We must clean up this mess. The candidates, who have already waited too long in their shop-window offices, should consider how (7) to grant more power to the local authorities, (8) to develop local monitoring systems, instead of relying upon inspectors from Ofsted and Ofwat, and (9) to seek friends and partnerships in other countries.
Regional internationalism
Long ago, there was a practice that was less than a policy but far more than a fashion. It was to ‘twin-towns’. Boroughs of a similar size in Europe and the Commonwealth were encouraged to swap festivals, trade fairs and school visits.
These were small happenings, but popular. They calmed a world embittered by battle. The Windrush arrivals offered an annual play-mas in Notting Hill. It soon attracted over one million visitors. The spirit of goodwill dwarfed the rallies from the National Front.
What should be the last point in our manifesto? (10) Do not win votes by sacrificing your humanity. Your children, grandchildren, and all future generations will curse you.
