Why do we have government? The case for soft loo paper.

Here’s hoping that politicians will feel their job isn’t to create utopia but to do the duties of governing well, to give the people space to thrive, and to encourage all of us to act nobly

Why do we have government? This is, I feel, the sort of important philosophical question that doesn’t get asked often enough (unless you’re in Argentina) but that is really rather important. We tend to assume that the presence of the state and public authorities are some sort of given and that their existence is a good thing. After all, without government there would be anarchy, which in our minds is characterised by sinister bewhiskered men carrying bombs or at the very least waving black flags and vandalising war memorials.

But even if we accept the need for government and, indeed, that its existence isn’t merely a necessary evil but a good thing, we should perhaps ask what is the purpose of that government. It seems to me that there are two broad views of government: the first is that government does those things that only a government can (or should) do, and the second is that government can act to make humans better and therefore the society better. This isn’t a left vs right thing because right across the spectrum of political opinion people firmly believe that government can make things (including people) better.

I first encountered this essential division at university. The University Conservative Association were discussing how to campaign in elections to the various student union positions. As is usual with student politics much of the debate revolved around the great issues of the world just as was doubtless the case across the corridor where what was called the “Broad Left” planned their campaigns. But then one member piped up asking a different question.

“Why are we giving so much attention to things outside our control or influence? Surely improving the student union - better bars, improved catering, pastoral care and soft loo paper - is much more important?”

We see in our parliaments and councils a lot of examples of the former as debates about grand sweeping geopolitical issues push aside other, perhaps more pertinent, concerns about cleaning streets, emptying bins and filling in potholes. Even when the debate does arrive at these mundane concerns for every citizen, we end up discussing it with a sort of grand purposelessness. Politicians talk about climate change, the circular economy and who owns the contractors rather than about how we might get more value for the money we spend, how citizens might get what they want - empty bins, clean pavements and smooth roads. The reason for this portentous approach to debate is that it suits the sustaining of political division and plays to the vanity of politicians.

I spent 24 years as a local councillor and, as you might expect, indulged in some of this pompous debate. But when I look back, the more valuable and interesting discussions were on the occasions when we stepped aside from the clash of grand politics to look at something specific but unpolitical. I recall perhaps 30 hours of meetings considering the options around the replacement of a roundabout in Saltaire with a set (or sets) of traffic lights. This is both dull and important. Dull because who wants to spend hours talking about traffic flow models and smart traffic lights, important because tens of thousands of local residents drove, walked or cycled through that junction every day. Those of us who represented communities in Airedale knew

how important it was because we were often regaled with complaints about the traffic through Saltaire. After all those hours we made a choice that improved matters somewhat but didn’t stop people moaning about the traffic.

A bit like my Tory friend at university, I’ve a feeling that the public would like the various agencies of the state to do what they’ve been charged with doing more effectively and efficiently. And that how to achieve better public services is too often lost in the sort of nonsense we’ve seen in the British parliament over the last few days. It isn’t that the public don’t care about Gaza but rather that they’d like their elected representatives to get some perspective and spend more time looking at getting better healthcare, roads, schools and housing rather than talking about how to fix a problem thousands of miles away over which we have no say and no control.

This misplaced focus, as well as politicians choosing to hive off the management of public services to vaguely accountable executive agencies, gives the impression that most of our members of parliament are deeply unserious people. Worse, these MPs nearly all believe with the certainty of a zealot that the actions of the state can, even will, make your lives better. And because MPs sit as part of a legislature, we get what might be called the “Hammer-Nail Effect” - every political issue or problem can be resolved by the passing of laws. After all there’s an essentially anonymous board appointed to manage the actual system so why should MPs be bothered by whether it is efficient and effective. Until that is, something goes wrong, when those MPs will leap up and call for a new law to fix the thing that has gone wrong. Even though that problem is often a direct consequence of the laws MPs approved the last time things went wrong.

Politicians have always tended to sell imagined dreams and false utopia, a process made easier by the nature of political philosophy and the downside of enlightenment. We became convinced that the actions of man could create heaven on earth, something that vain politicians - right, left and centre - latched onto as they pitched their socialist, fascist, technocratic and managerialist solutions. All the solutions, of course, involved more power, control and authority for the state and for the politicians who rise to the top of that state.

I don’t know if there is a political leader brave enough to adopt a different ideology. Maybe Javier Milei’s experiment in Argentina will pay off leading to others adopting ‘crazy libertarian chainsaws’? Or maybe centrist politicians will stop knowing better how you should live your life and instead try to get the services government provides for people to work well? Perhaps folk on the right will realise that my friend’s  ‘soft loo paper conservatism’ is a better pitch than screeching about ‘woke’ and blaming everything on a vague but sinister alliance of ‘cultural marxists’ and ‘liberals’? There is probably little hope for the left until they rediscover the working class and start thinking about the services those ordinary folk want the state to provide well. 

Here’s hoping that the next generation of politicians will feel their job isn’t to create utopia but to do the duties of governing well, to give the people space to thrive, and to encourage all of us to act nobly in making a better world not to claim we can pass over that responsibility to the state.

(for those who care the picture is my grandpa (with the chain) and grandma (with the hat) serving tea to residents at Oaklands, an old folks home in Penge)