Love of God or Love of Self: Homosexuality, Christian Ethics and Social Mores

They had Graeme Le Saux, the former England international footballer, on BBC Radio Four's Today programme on Tuesday of this week. He was talking about how, as a player, he was the object of innumerable insults and taunting for supposedly being gay, which he claims not to be. In 2002, I was present at a Spurs vs. Chelsea match where the Spurs home supporters did indeed mercilessly mock Le Saux for his gayness. I should add that this didn't prevent him from, as they say, playing a blinder and scoring the final goal in Spurs' 4-0 defeat – much to my chagrin at the time!

On the Today programme, Le Saux – who was promoting his autobiography – made the point that it is somewhat ridiculous and out-of-date that there should be such hostility and prejudice towards gays in the footballing world given that there is now so much openness and acceptance of homosexuality in all walks of life. On one level, this is of course true: dressing-room insinuations about a player colleague's sexuality smack of immature schoolboy humour, and there is clearly safety in a crowd in singing homophobic anthems from the stands.

On the other hand, football is one of the few heterosexual male-only preserves in our culture, and many of the men who play or watch the game would like to keep it that way. If they join in the gay-baiting, they are obviously in the wrong; but are they entirely wrong in feeling the way they do? It is the most natural thing in the world, or at least in human cultures, for men to seek heterosexual male-only activities as the occasion for so-called male bonding. In a culture in which women have increasingly – and justly so – asserted their rights to participate and compete in areas of society that were previously a male preserve, many ordinary straight men – not people one would think of as being reactionary or homophobic – feel inhibited from seeking and enjoying safe outlets for a bit of 'harmless' macho aggression, such as football.

But we're talking about attitudes to gay men here, not women. Well, yes and no. The point is football serves the purposes of straight male bonding: providing an outlet for men not just to display aggression but also affection for each other that is not tinged by other sorts of feelings. In English society, men are particularly inept at expressing their feelings of friendship for one another; so this typically needs to be enabled by a context that both draws men together in a common cause and allows them to behave in a way that demonstrates to their companions that they are masculine and straight – for example (but not necessarily) by making lewd remarks about women and derogatory remarks about gays. Clearly, gays are not welcome in such a 'club' of like-minded, red-blooded males. And if a member of the opposite club (i.e. the other team) can be insulted for their inadequacies as a man and put off their game by being slagged off as gay, then all the better. So while instances of homophobic chanting such as that directed towards Graeme Le Saux in the game I watched are clearly unacceptable and distressing, they could also be described simply as a group of men venting a bit of non-physically violent aggression and finding any excuse to jeer at their tribal rivals.

Hence, football provides for many men the opportunity to celebrate masculine prowess and enjoy male friendships in a way that poses no threat to their sexual orientation or gender identity. The growing involvement of women in the game probably adds to the feelings of anxiety that this male preserve is being encroached upon; it's just that gays, in traditional male society, are a more acceptable object of derision than women. Football is one example of more general anxieties felt by men to a varying degree, whereby the growing equality of women with men is perceived as leading to an increasing masculinisation of women (becoming physically stronger, socially more powerful and sexually more assertive) and a corresponding feminisation of men: encouraged to get more in touch with their feelings – traditionally thought of as a weakness; increasingly displaced by women from positions of power, e.g. in business, the family and the Church; and finding themselves presented as the (often inadequate, derided) object of feminine desire – or of gay desire.

This general cultural context provides a backdrop for understanding last week's expulsion of the middle-aged comedian Jim Davidson from the ITV reality-TV show Hells Kitchen. This was brought about by him asking the gay contestant Brian why 'shirt lifters' such as him always put on a particular camp facial expression. Brian took umbrage at the supposed homophobia of Davidson's words; and the comedian appeared to only add insult to injury when he later attempted to apologise by saying he understood where Brian was coming from and that he knew that GAY stood for 'as good as you'. Judging from the reactions of Brian and other contestants, this was clearly perceived as constituting another slur on gay people: either because it imputed to them an aggressive over-assertion of their rights (as Adele, the chief defender of Brian said, the correct phrase should be 'equal to you'); or because it was interpreted as being a sarcasm. Davidson was promptly asked to leave the show by its producers, as they couldn't risk the situation getting out of hand and generating a barrage of viewer complaints and regulatory criticism such as those which resulted from the so-called Shilpa Shetty racism row in Celebrity Big Brother earlier in the year (see my post of 23 February, The Amoral Market and the Randomness of Reward).

But were Davidson's remarks homophobic? I didn't think so. They were in keeping with Jim Davidson's comic style, characterised by humour appealing to the traditional male heterosexual audience: lots of jokes about gays and women. But Davidson is clearly used to getting as good as he gives; and in his circle, which indeed includes lots of gay performers, he would expect a remark such as his to be reciprocated with an equally cutting, sarcastic response – for instance, turning around the phrase 'shirt lifter' into a derogatory remark about middle-aged 'skirt lifters'. Instead, Brian just went into a wounded sulk, and some of the younger participants who thought Davidson had been completely out of order clearly did not understand or appreciate the humorous intent behind his comments. The point was that Davidson had overstepped the mark of acceptability. The goalposts have moved since Davidson was in his prime in the 1980s. Now, anything that implies hostility towards the inclusion and advancement of gays and women in roles traditionally reserved for straight men (such as the very masculine professional chef in Hells Kitchen, Marco Pierre White; or indeed, the stand-up comedian) is strictly taboo. Never mind that Brian, according to Davidson, had made a catalogue of unrepeatable remarks to him (not broadcast). Brian is a performer and comedian – his comedy and sexual insinuations are acceptable; Davidson's macho heterosexual humour is not.

The question about precisely where the boundaries of acceptability lie in relation to homosexuality is a really crucial one, for society and the Church. Leaving aside the related issue of how acceptable are ostensibly harmless, playful manifestations of macho behaviour and attitudes in general, there is a serious question about the extent to which 'public opinion' is now prepared to tolerate expressions of criticism, opposition or unease in relation to active homosexuality. For instance, is the taunting of supposed gays by football crowds really as bad as racist chants and obscenities, as Graeme Le Saux claimed? Liberal opinion would doubtless say that it is; but there is a difference between trying to wind up a player from the opposing team by mocking them as gay – when most people probably realise this isn't in fact true – and deriding someone for their ethnicity, which is an inescapable fact. The former is more an expression of aggressive support for the team, allied to ridicule of something that challenges heterosexual maleness; the latter is primarily an expression of real hatred.

An example of the shifting boundaries of acceptability in this area that is more far-reaching in its implications is the issue of adoption by gay couples, which has been the subject of several posts in this blog (see, for example, my post of 11 September). One of the conclusions that can be drawn from the whole stand off between the Church and the political establishment on this question towards the start of this year is that it demonstrates that it has become increasingly unacceptable in secular society to treat gay and lesbian people in any way differently from straight persons based on a moral condemnation of the gay lifestyle. If the decisions of our legislators do in fact reflect the general consensus of opinion, the eventual passing of the Equality Act without any special exemption for Christian adoption agencies could be taken as showing that the Church's moral beliefs about homosexuality are no longer shared by – indeed, are unacceptable to – the majority.

Another way to put this is that the civic and judicial principles of equality and human rights have encroached on another piece of the Church's traditional terrain: what the Church, along with the majority of society, has previously condemned as morally wrong is now declared as a human right; and gay sexual relationships (and by extension, the suitability of gay couples to become adoptive parents) are considered in effect to be morally equal to straight relationships, whether formalised in marriage or not.

It's worth observing at this point that this 'moral equality' corresponds more to an idea that gay relationships are equivalent to / 'equally as valid' as (no less but equally no more valid as) straight ones than to an idea that they represent an intrinsic, positive moral good – in the way that heterosexual marriage and traditional family life are generally accepted as being good in themselves. And this is because human rights are not the same as the moral right: they are morally neutral and content-less, essentially because what they constitute is freedoms; and freedom in itself is not a moral value but is rather the condition for making truly moral choices. For example, most people would accept the proposition that citizens of a free country should have the right to commit adultery, and many regard it as a woman's right to abort unwanted foetuses; but probably most people would regard both actions as not morally right – or at least, certainly not positively good. Similarly, while the majority may accept that it should be gay couples' right to adopt children, I doubt whether the majority believes this is better for most children than adoption by a father and mother – although it may in fact be better for some. Equally, it probably still is the majority view that homosexuality is not really 'normal' or 'natural' in quite the same way as heterosexuality – however these terms are defined – and, for this reason, gay relationships are not quite as 'wholesome', beautiful or conducive to true happiness as straight ones. But, partly out of sympathy for persons 'afflicted' in this way – and who therefore, it is thought, won't be able to have children – and partly out of guilt for society's past treatment of homosexuals, it is no longer acceptable to assimilate this sort of evaluation of homosexuality with any kind of moral judgement that it is 'wrong' or 'not as good as' heterosexuality. Or indeed the opposite of this: that homosexuality is as good as or better than heterosexuality. Any kind of valuation along the scale from good to evil is viewed as unacceptable; and an amoral equality suspends and takes the place of moral judgement. As Adele in Hells Kitchen put it, gay people are equal to straight, not as good as you, in Jim Davidson's words. From a traditional judgement that homosexuality is wrong, we've moved to a judgement that to make that moral judgement itself is wrong. But let's not dwell on the irony that it's the denizens of hell's kitchen who are the advocates of that view!

But do people really think that the traditional moral condemnation of homosexuality is wrong; or is it rather the case that it's just viewed as inappropriate to express it verbally and in one's actions? Jim Davidson's 'sin', as it were, was his perceived verbal violence towards Brian, viewed as a form of bullying and intimidation: he wasn't wrong to hold whatever views he does hold about gays; but he should have just kept them to himself. How can this be unpacked? Liberty and moral equality means that anyone is entitled to believe whatever they like and define their own morality. So, to be consistent, Davidson couldn't be condemned for his beliefs but only for the actions that flowed from them. These were seen as expressing an aggression directed against Brian's right to compete in Hells Kitchen and a slur on his personal morality.

These two ideas converge in the concepts of intrinsic human dignity and value. Because the secular-liberal ideas of rights and liberty are morally neutral, the concept that is used to transform them into positive moral values in their own right is that of the fundamental dignity and goodness of the human person. By making the universal dignity of the human person the place and source of moral goodness and value, this makes it impossible to make categorical moral judgements about a person based on their actual behaviour and desires. Whatever these may be, it is thought, they cannot impair the fundamental goodness of that person as a human being. That's why the liberal can morally condemn a person, rather than an action, only by labelling them as inhuman; and why psychopathic despots such as the Nazis can justify attempting to kill off whole races only by making them out to be sub-human.

The point of this is that any moral judgement, real or imagined, of someone that is associated with a characteristic viewed as defining them as a human being (e.g. homosexuality) is taken by the liberal – insofar as it is a moral judgement – as an attack on the dignity of that person, not a criticism of the morality of their behaviour or desires. Making jokes about 'gay shirt lifters' is an attack on them for being gay not a wry observation about their shirt lifting, which may contain a germ of truth. And the more that gay persons – and justly so – take a stand on their common humanity and equality, the more it becomes impossible to morally criticise any of their actions without appearing to condemn them as persons.

This presents a problem for the Church, which has always made a distinction between condemning the sin but not the sinner: it's not wrong for a person to be gay, but it is wrong for them to indulge in and act upon their desires. While there is a valid logical and ethical distinction between judging a person and judging their actions, in practice, it is often hard to tell them apart. The Church greatly contributes to society's perception that it condemns gay people for being gay rather than for their behaviour through the logic and tone of the language it uses to set out its position and teaching. Let's take the case of the opposition of some in the US Episcopalian Church to that Church's ordination / consecration of openly gay priests / bishops and the blessing of gay unions, chronicled in an interesting article this week in the Wall Street Journal. The terms in which the condemnation of such priests and unions is often expressed both logically and implicitly involve judging the person as well as their actions. The bone of contention is not just that some of the priests involved are in gay sexual relationships but that they are 'openly gay'. But, of course, you can be openly gay without being sexually active. The controversial gay bishop of New Hampshire, Gene Robinson, claimed that his gay partnership was 'celibate' / non-sexually active. It is as if the Church really is perpetrating what liberal defenders of gay rights and the likes of Brian perceive to be the case: that their moral criticism of behaviour implies impugning the dignity and goodness of the person as gay.

This impression is certainly supported by the lurid tone and imagery that's often used. The above Wall Street Journal article refers to the belief in the Ugandan Church, where dissident Episcopalian clergy have been consecrated as bishops, that homosexual acts are Satanic. By inference, one cannot imagine they would have too understanding a reaction to anyone, ordained or not, who came out as gay, even if they were committed to leading a celibate life. Do the conservative Episcopalians really wish to align themselves with such opinions? But they are not that far removed from the language and attitudes of conservative Christians of all denominations, and not just in the USA, some of whom draw support from the Old Testament teaching (as quoted by the Wall Street Journal article), “Thou shalt not lie with mankind, as with womankind: it is an abomination”.

Such views about homosexuality, active or not, are simply not shared by most people in Western societies and, arguably, by most Christians in those societies, too. Would any reasonable person not in fact think that using this sort of language implies a repudiation of homosexuality per se as well as an objection to homosexual behaviour, especially as many churches clearly don't bother too much to make this ethical distinction in the first place? If you regard gay sex as Satanic, then an openly gay person must logically be seen as being under the influence of Satan; which can then lead to the attempts made by some churches to 'exorcise' or 'heal' gay persons of their homosexuality. And it is also an obvious observation that even rational ethical teaching critical towards homosexuality can provide a 'safe' outlet for expressing a characteristically heterosexual repugnance towards the idea of gay sex acts, which strictly speaking has nothing to do with ethics. The fact, for instance, that you personally might find the idea of gay anal sex abhorrent doesn't of itself validate your belief that it is morally wrong; but the belief that it is morally wrong can provide an apparently reasonable justification for expressing homophobic feelings about it.

Even the more rational and tradition-heavy language used by the Catholic Church in its teaching about homosexuality presents huge difficulties in terms of bolstering the liberal view that the Church is simply stuck in the Dark Ages in its thinking in this area. For example, the use of the term 'unnatural' to describe gay sex is extremely difficult to explain or justify to non-believers. In two major respects, this classification is viewed by serious secular opinion as being completely inappropriate to describe homosexuality. Firstly, according to the empirical-scientific understanding of nature, homosexuality is a completely natural phenomenon: a universal characteristic of human societies and psycho-sexuality throughout the ages, for which many possible explanations have been brought forward by both the natural and human sciences. Secondly, from a philosophical point of view, the term 'natural' is regarded as highly problematic and relative. What any given society regards as natural is viewed as being determined to a very large extent – but not necessarily exclusively – by contingent cultural factors: it used to be thought unnatural for women to want to pursue careers, but now it's not; similarly, it used to be thought in Western societies that homosexuality was unnatural, but now it's largely not.

But when the Church uses the concepts of natural / unnatural, it's using them in a different sense from these secular understandings of the terms. The Church is of course referring to the concept of the divine Order of creation, lost through sin, and restored in Christ. Homosexuality, in this context, is considered unnatural because it goes against the purpose for which sexuality was made: to be the means through which human beings are called to share in God's creation of new life, making the union of husband and wife an objective, real union with and in Christ. And this is not, as is often thought, merely about procreation. God's work of bringing new life into being that married persons are called to share relates to the entirety of the cycle of creation and redemption in Christ: not just bringing a new human being into this world and into the life of the sin-bound flesh; but helping to bring them into the new and everlasting life of the Spirit, into which this life is but a slow and painful process of being born.

Sexuality is therefore intrinsically linked to our Christian vocation: to a calling to be led by God into a life of holiness and of the Spirit that ultimately transcends the needs, desires and values of a merely material world. The Order of nature from which homosexual behaviour is said to fall short – to be 'disordered' – therefore refers not primarily to the empirical nature of the scientists or the culturally specific world of the socio-anthropologists, but to a creation restored to union with God in Christ, of which this present, secular world is but a patchy blueprint.

Without a clear presentation of this metaphysical context for Christian beliefs about the role and place of sexuality, the teaching on homosexuality cannot fail to appear to be merely a form of outdated prejudice flying in the face of objectively observable fact. Simply discussing the issues using terms such as unnatural and disordered – because they are regarded as just not epistemologically accurate – then appears intellectually uncritical and homophobic. The Church must find contemporary language to put across its precious spiritual inheritance: not by changing the traditional teaching but translating and presenting it in clearer, more modern terms.

For starters, the Church has to overcome the impression that its teaching is that heterosexuality in general (however it is expressed) is of itself natural / good, and homosexuality (whether actively expressed or not) is always unnatural / evil. According to my understanding, at least, of Church doctrine on the order of nature as creation, the opposition is really between sex within marriage [good, holy] and (gay or straight) extra-marital sex [sinful, unholy], not between heterosexual and homosexual sex. Extra-marital heterosexual sex is to be considered unnatural and disordered, in a similar manner to homosexual sex, because it is a case of the couple using sex for their own gratification and purposes (which could even include having children) in a manner that is closed off from the life in Christ of which their loving sexual union is intended by God to be seal and symbol: a bringing together of the dual creative and redemptive work of Christ – creation of a new human being in the flesh and a commitment on the part of the couple to share in Christ's loving work of redemption and spiritual rebirth in that child.

According to this view, becoming involved in a sexual relationship (gay or straight) outside of the divine purpose for which sex was created necessarily leads to a person being drawn away from their vocation to a life of holiness and dedication to the loving service of God. For unmarried persons – some straight persons and, by definition, all gay persons – this vocation can therefore be lived out fully only in a celibate life. But, by the same logic, most people haven't attained true holiness yet and, therefore, many cannot sustain celibacy; and, indeed, it is unsustainable without dedication to a life of holiness and spiritual conversion. Therefore, we should be very wary about appearing to condemn sexually active gay individuals – whether avowedly Christian or not – unless we are prepared to condemn ourselves for our own misdemeanours, including the all-too frequent deviations from sexual holiness (chastity) on the part of married or unmarried straight persons: lusting after persons other than one's spouse; indulging in conjugal sex that is not open to the creative-redemptive purpose God intends for it; infidelities and one-night stands; etc. Judge not lest ye be judged.

Therefore, the Church has to find a language to put across the context of the call to holiness and to a new life in Christ and in the Spirit that is the foundation of its teaching about homosexuality. It's not wrong to be gay; but acting upon, and building one's life around, the desires that being gay induces can lead one away from knowing and loving God – from the meaning of life itself and the core of one's very being. Perhaps, in pastoral work and teaching, as well as referring to gay sex in the formal, doctrinal sense as unnatural and disordered, we could use terms such as 'alienated / alienating' (from one's true vocation); 'non-holy' (orientated towards material and temporal priorities, rather than eternal, spiritual ones); and 'non-vocational' (a gay life that ignores the traditional teaching about our Christian calling, rather than one which tries – albeit imperfectly – to conform itself to that teaching).

Moral objections to active homosexuality, if expressed in these or similar terms, and with reference to the full context of Christian belief, could begin to be understood as what they properly are: not an attack on but rather a defence of the person – a call for each of us to relinquish our self-love and, in so doing, embrace the love of God.

Car Culture: Time For a Change? (Part Four)

Possibly the most significant impact the car has had on the human environment is its contribution to the erosion of communities. There was some radio poll earlier this week, when people were asked to vote for their choice of the greatest contemporary social problem - or some such. I won't bore you with my Top Ten; but my number one is definitely the break down of community. Of course, a topic like this is itself somewhat question-begging. What do you mean by 'community'? Are you in danger of sentimentalising the value of community per se or the qualities of specific communities in the past? Would you really want to live in a close-knit community where everyone knows each other's business - having grown used to the privacy and self-reliance of modern living?

There undoubtedly is an element of viewing things through rose-tinted spectacles when we talk nostalgically about the loss of community. However, the absence of community throughout much of modern Britain, and the sense that it is something that we've lost, is undeniable. But how much of this is really attributable to the car? The decline in communities is usually ascribed to more general socio-cultural trends such as greater social 'mobility'; technology reducing our dependence on other people; increased materialism and individualism; women's access to work and careers diminishing the time and energy they have to devote to community building, which was largely driven by women in the past; the collapse of traditional social structures that gave people a sense of their place within a community, such as marriage, class and the church; and the increased levels of crime and delinquency, making people feel unsafe and forcing them to retreat into their own homes.

All of these are of course contributory factors, although some of them are arguably more by-products of community break down rather than causes. The car is another such contributory factor: it is, to coin a metaphor, an accelerator of all of the above trends. It's possible to think of ways in which the rise of universal car ownership has facilitated each of these social changes. For 'social mobility' substitute mobility in general: the way in which - in part thanks to the car - people are no longer tied to a particular locality (viz community) to be the centre of their personal or work life. Similarly, because of automotive technology, we are no longer dependent on public (local community-provided) transport, or on assistance in moving ourselves and our possessions provided by neighbours or local acquaintances. Women's access to careers, too, has been greatly advanced by their access to cars, meaning they have far more choice about the jobs they do; their work becomes personal and aspirational, rather than being involved in the provision of basic services to a local community, which was often the only work available to women.

When I was growing up in the 1960s and 1970s, I used to think it was ridiculous and - when I learnt the meaning of the term - decadent for households to own more than one car. This was based on the model that father either used the car for work, in which case mother didn't need a car (because she either didn't have a job at all or, if she did, this was more locally based); or else, father used public transport to get to work and mother than had the use of the car (which was my childhood situation). Nowadays, of course, it's common to see houses with at least two, sometimes as many as four or five, cars in the front drive and in what used to be called the front garden: at least one for each of the master and mistress of the household, along with cars for each of the grown-up children as they stay on in the parental home increasingly longer. And indeed, it would be hard for the families involved to envisage how they could manage without their cars if they all have 'no alternative' other than to travel out to work and to use the car for social life - neither of which are centred around their local area. For myself, I grumble about having to provide an unpaid taxi service to my non-driving partner. But I wonder what the effect on our relationship would be if she did pass a driving test and acquire a car. Would we miss the time we spend together in the car and the opportunity it provides to talk about things? Would our lives diverge even more if, instead of using only one car to go about our chores and our pleasures (the more sociable and greener option), we started using two? Individual cars lead to separate lives and careers, which in turn so often lead to separation.

I'm not trying to imply that women shouldn't enjoy the independence and freedoms which the car has played its part in bringing about. The car has undoubtedly brought tremendous social benefits - but, as I've said before, there has also been a social cost. One of the biggest of these, related to the whole community question, is the restriction of our children's freedom to roam and play outdoors. The two main reasons why parents are so afraid to let their children go out on their own nowadays are both directly car-related: 1) they could get run over; 2) they could be abducted (most easily by someone driving a car or van who can whisk them away in a flash).

The first of these concerns relates to the fact that we have still not adapted to the lethal potential of the car, in ways that I've discussed in previous instalments of this blog series. This is ultimately a case of our tolerating a certain quotient of child fatalities because of our personal and economic dependence on the car. But if we really wanted to put a stop to these accidents and reduce at least this aspect of our fear for our children, then only radical measures would do, such as banning cars and commercial vehicles altogether from driving through residential areas in hours when children are about, and imposing strict speed restrictions backed up by draconian penalties for violations - and even more so for any accidents involving children that still occurred. Is this a social cost we'd be prepared to pay to protect our children and let them play outdoors; or is endangering children's lives the cost we're willing to pay for the convenience of driving around wherever and whenever we want? And it's not just a case of reducing the number of road deaths but of a massive quality-of-life improvement that could result: for our kids who could suddenly reclaim the great outdoors; for parents who would no longer need to live in fear; and for all the 'community' who could enjoy the reduction in noise and pollution, and even start to enjoy walking around their own streets and getting to know their neighbours.

But what of the other concern of parents: that their kids could be abducted or 'befriended' by a paedophile who would then abuse them? Wouldn't children be more vulnerable not less to the unwelcome attention of local paedophiles if they were all out playing in the streets? Yes, if you're just looking at this with today's context in mind: the lack of a community that is watching out for the kids and is even out and about in the streets in question; cars that can just come along at any time when kids might be about; people, including those on the sex offenders list, living as strangers from one another and not known to the parents and others in the community who are concerned for the children's safety. If neighbourhoods are transformed into communities where people know each other and take on shared responsibility for keeping an eye on the children, and can be trusted because they're known to each other; and if, above all, the car is kept out (vital for communities to feel safe in their environment, to enjoy it, and look after it and each other) - then maybe parents would feel more confident that their children would be safe outdoors. Because they'd feel they owned and were in control of the world beyond the front door. Because this was a human world, a community, as it was when they were children and were safe to roam.

More on the car and the community in the next instalment of this blog series.

Car Culture: Time For a Change? (Part Three)

Here I am, then, sitting in the cafeteria of the hospital of a town about 30 miles away from Cambridge, having once again discharged my taxi-driving duties to bring my partner over here. The A-road connecting the two towns has recently had a substantial upgrade, and most of the journey is along fresh-surfaced dual carriageways. While the convenience of a quicker and easier trip is greatly appreciated, the road now has the soulless, dehumanised character of many of today's routes, which bypass the towns and villages through which once they passed. We build our highways from scratch 'in the middle of nowhere', as the saying goes, with the deliberate intention that they should not pass directly by and through human habitations and settlements.

This has involved a total transformation of one of the main purposes of roads. In the past, roads were designed for 'connecting people', to adapt a well-known corporate tag line. That is, they went directly to where people lived; they were for journeys by people to people – lifelines connecting people to each other and the outside world. And they operated at a human level: your journey not only took you to specific people, but you could and would have encounters along the way with people you hadn't intended to meet: other travellers, with whom you could exchange greetings because you were proceeding at a pace that allowed such pleasantries; or just people living and working by the wayside. And there were roadside inns, farms and villages where one's basic needs could be met and further human contact could be had.

Nowadays, along our soulless dual carriageways, chance encounters are often of the unwelcome kind: when your car breaks down, suddenly exposing you to a sense of vulnerability as an individual who find yourself alone in remote surroundings without the friendly assistance of strangers; or with strangers who appear willing to assist but whose motives you can't trust. Or when suddenly, you get stuck in a traffic jam that seems to extend further than the eye can see, caused by further road development or maintenance ahead, or yet another accident. However, in such circumstances, there is always the mobile phone to connect you back to civilisation: to summon break-down assistance, or to alert family or business colleagues that you have been unavoidably held up.

The mobile phone provides one of the main supporting infrastructures for roads that are built in the 'middle of nowhere': it enables a tenuous link to be maintained between the remote, impersonal road environment and the human environments that are the points of departure and arrival. This, plus the additional array of in-car entertainments and navigational aids with which we surround ourselves, allows us to fool ourselves that we are still in a human environment: that there is a kind of seamless connectivity between A and B that accompanies us on our way. The reality is that we have become disconnected from the physical environment through which we move, and that this is no longer a place that has a comfortable human face for us. So we hasten to pass through it as quickly as possible. Our car is a little bubble of civilisation: its synthetic, technological smells and air-conditioned atmosphere a welcome means for us to forget the carbon emissions we pour out into the sweet fresh air of nature; the radio or CD player a lullaby that makes us unconscious of the engine's roar.

Yet, the irony of the mobile phone – or what were originally called 'car phones' until their use got generalised across all our activities – is that, while it perfectly fulfils this purpose of keeping us connected to our activities and human contacts during the temporary suspension of our involvement with them as we pass through an alien landscape, it has not yet adapted itself to the real human situation of driving. It is dangerous to use the mobile, precisely, while we are mobile – at least in what might be described as the archetypal context for its use: the individual driver maintaining a connection with points A and B as (s)he drives between them. Just how dangerous is of course demonstrated by the terrible lethal accidents of which mobile-phone use while driving is still one of the main causes – such as the killing of that 64-year-old granny by a 19-year-old 'texter-driver' referred to in the previous post in this series. And yet, the very utility of the mobile phone for drivers as they are driving – delivery men keeping in contact with the logistics office; husband and father phoning to say he's on his way after being detained at that meeting; friends organising their evenings while travelling to meet up – is the very reason why the law proscribing mobile-phone use while driving is so regularly flouted. And why the mobile-phone companies have made damn sure they provide optimal connectivity alongside motorways and other major trunk routes.

I pointed to these paradoxes when I made a layperson's contribution to the public consultation on the proposed law banning mobile-phone use by drivers a few years ago: that the technology and infrastructure as it has been established and made readily available creates a reasonable expectation on the part of ordinary drivers that they should be allowed to use their mobile phones while actually on the move; and that there might be some mitigating circumstances where using one's phone could in fact be safer and more socially responsible than not – so long as it was genuinely safe to use the phone in the specific driving situation. These circumstances included things like arranging for someone to pick up the children from school if one had been badly delayed by the traffic; or a 'life and death' situation, where a woman, for instance, might feel she needed to call the police because she was afraid she was being followed by a potential aggressor and obviously, therefore, didn't wish to stop.

And this is one of the major problems: because our roads pass through the 'middle of nowhere' – and because they enable us to travel in a little cocoon of civilisation through areas we would never dream of visiting on foot, particularly at night – there are many roads where there just aren't enough safe places to stop. This is another way, as with the mobile, in which the support infrastructure and physical circumstances of driving are not adapted to real human needs and limitations. It always strikes me as absurd when you pass electronic signs on the motorway – messengers of some vague motorway-surveillance authority; but are there actually any people on the job sending and updating those messages? – reminding you that 'tiredness kills' and urging you to take a break; often when you are miles away from any service station, or even – on some A-roads – when most of the service stations are closed. Someone on high has recognised that the expectations that have been built into our road-transport system – that people should be able to undertake their journeys, contrary to the traditional pattern of human life and work, at any time of the day or week (24/7) – might just be a tad out of sync with the way our human minds and bodies work. We need to take a break, but we've built our roads in a way that deliberately and literally by-passes normal human life – facilitators of seamless transition from point to point but without any intrinsic human value or reality. So we then haven't created places along the way – such as the inns, farms and villages of old – where people can safely satisfy their basic needs and renew contact with their own and others' humanity.

Our journeys, then, have been transformed from intrinsically human events to a somewhat tedious process of transition between points A and B, where the space in between has no fundamental value or relevance for us. And the car is what has enabled this to take place. So what?, you might say: the benefits outweigh the costs. Well, I suppose that is the heart of the matter: what you think the real costs and benefits are, and how they balance out. There's no doubt that the environmental costs have been monumental and continue to get worse. How much of the world's carbon emissions are accounted for by the internal combustion engine? I don't know what the latest estimates are but I'm sure it must be much, much more than the 3% attributed to air travel that everyone seems conveniently to get so het up about. And the carbon cost is just one of the many environmental impacts that our thrall to the car has brought about.

But more so even than the direct consequences of car culture on the environment, it is the impact on the culture in general that needs to be re-examined – particularly, the way the car has contributed massively to the break down of communities, and our alienation from the physical and human world around us. The next entry will return to a discussion of these matters.

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National 'Britain Day': Inventing Britain For the 21st Century (Part Eight)

They were at it again on Monday: Communities Secretary Ruth Kelly and Immigration Minister Liam Byrne called, among other things, for a national 'Britain Day' (our equivalent of Australia Day or America's July 4^th) as part of the drive to promote a stronger sense of Britishness – what the ministers called Britain's 'citizenship revolution'.

Anyone who has read any of my previous blog entries sub-titled 'Inventing Britain For the 21^st Century' will know that I am extremely sceptical about such 'Britology': essentially, the politically driven attempt to define core British values which – it is assumed or argued – will provide a framework for the people of the UK to become more culturally integrated and socially united.

For now, let me just pose a few questions (with some possible answers) and raise a few points concerning this agenda:

1. What date shall we have this 'Britain Day' on, then? Possible candidates: VE Day – a true celebration of a triumphant Britain having defended its values of freedom and tolerance (no, too historically and ethnically narrow); Trafalgar Day (are you kidding?); a date commemorating the end of the Battle of Britain (again, too militaristic and backward-looking); 1 May, which apart from being a traditional English feast associated with Morris Dancing, maypoles and the like (too English) is also the date when the 1707 Act of Union joining England and Scotland together to actually form Great Britain took effect (aaarghh!).

2. What actually are the core values that British people supposedly already have in common, and to which their adherence needs to be further fostered? I have argued before that these boil down to quite abstract, universal ideals, such as various flavours of freedom and equality, democracy, tolerance, decency, etc. One might call these values that the British are said to have in common the 'highest common denominator': they're the most top-level, general philosophical concepts that any reasonable person can buy into, whatever their faith, politics or ethnicity. But as such, do they really provide any additional force for unity, in the sense that people already in theory assent to these principles as expressed in their different cultural and religious traditions? And in any case, what is distinctively British, if anything, about these values? One might even say that by asserting these values as the core components of Britishness, Britishness is defined in relation to an abstraction away from specific, narrow ethnic and religious traditions to a sort of 21st-century global liberal humanism – as Britain typifies the coming together of all the nations of the earth in a new universal, secular culture and economy.

3. If Britain's identity is essentially a modernist abstraction away from historical divisions between races, nations and religions, then perhaps this is the underlying cultural basis for the bizarre design of the logo for the 2012 London Olympics, unveiled on the same day as the ministers' call for a Britain Day (see picture above). This logo contains very little that is recognisably British in any iconographic or representational sense: no historical monuments, geographical landmarks, national identifiers. It's a piece of abstract art reminiscent of the type of non-referential / conceptual works that annually compete for the Turner Prize. It does have something of the quality of commercial art of the type familiar from the British advertising industry, a sector in which Britain does indeed lead the world. It also suggests graffiti art: a manifestation of youth or pop culture which, perhaps it is true, is the nearest thing there is to a genuinely global culture embraced by people of all backgrounds.

4. While we're on the subject of the Olympics, these are one of the few major international sporting occasions when Britain actually competes as Britain, rather than in separate teams for each of the component 'nations' of Britain: England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland. For the sake of encouraging greater identification with Britishness, rather than with separate national entities, would the ministers propose abolishing the separate football teams and associations for the four British nations? Not a chance! Well, if that's a non-starter, what chance the objective of winning hearts and minds to a reaffirmed Britishness?

5. Because that really is the problem: 'ethnic British' people tend to identify more as English, Scottish, Welsh and Irish than as British. Statistics from the UK National Statistics Office confirm this: more 'white British' people define their identity as English rather than British; while many more UK ethnic Asians and Afro-Caribbeans define themselves as British rather than English, Scottish or Welsh. So doesn't that show that we should be encouraging the newer ethnic and national communities coming into the UK to see themselves as English / Scottish / Welsh in the first instance? In fact, it is only in that way that they can really become British because they will be British in the way that indigenous British people are British: through the filter of national and regional traditions, culture and history that have all contributed towards the Britain of today. Moreover, if communities that still refer to themselves as Pakistani or Bangladeshi started to be accepted and accept themselves as English, then this would really mark a turning point of deep integration and the forming of genuine multi-ethnic nationhood.

6. Equally, it has historically been true that British identity has been most positively upheld only when the English identity that was, and still is to some extent, its heart was affirmed proudly and confidently. Any attempt to re-define Britishness in a way that implicitly or explicitly denies the possibility of an official or politically acceptable expression of English values and culture (Britishness as an abstraction away from narrow national traditions) is actually set on a course away from the traditional wellsprings of Britishness and is unlikely to command the assent of the English people (not defined in a narrow ethnic way but as those who identify as English).

7. Ultimately, the Britology project could be seen as striving to create a united nation (or should that be United Nations) of Britain that has never really existed in the past. This is one of the things that is evoked by the phrase 'citizenship revolution' used by the ministers in their opinion piece. The last time we had a 'citizenship revolution' in Britain (well, actually, it was in England) was in the English Civil War in the 17^th century, when our forebears got rid of the monarchy and we all became citizens of a Commonwealth (in today's terms, a republic). It's only really under a republic that one could imagine this project as having any chance of enduring success. A republic would finally sever the link between the Church and the state, as the monarch currently is both head of state and head of the Church of England (but not of Scotland). Thus, if the monarchy were done away with, Christianity could be denied any privileged claims to being the core faith and value system of England / Britain; and England could be removed from its effective status as the centre of the United Kingdom – the monarch being in the first instance King or Queen of England but certainly not of Britain.

8. Indeed, the more the talk is of Britain rather than the United Kingdom, the more there are grounds to suspect the presence of an underlying republicanism. A Republic of Britain would be one where its citizens now owed primary allegiance not to the outdated specifics of narrow nationalism, Christianity and indigenous ethnicity but to universal secular-progressive principles, and the global market economy and cultural market place. But would it be a nation that belonged to the politicians and the marketing guys more than to the people of England, Scotland, Wales and Ireland?

Big Brother's Not Been Watching Enough: The Hypocrisy Of British Tolerance (Part Four)

In the preceding three entries, I've discussed three examples of how British society and culture deal with beliefs and behaviour that are considered to be 'beyond the pale': instances of radical intolerance or hostility towards the 'tolerant society' that are by that token 'beyond tolerance' – intolerable to the tolerant society. These examples are those of 'racism', 'terrorism' and 'anti-social behaviour'. Britain responds to these phenomena in a manner that is reminiscent of psychological censorship and repression. In Freudian terms, the super-ego (the authorities) suppresses the irrational, violent thoughts and desires of the id (the racist / terrorist / anti-social individual) from the conscious mind or ego (from the public domain) and then keeps jealous watch to make sure that these 'undesirable' tendencies do not re-manifest themselves openly – resulting in them being acted out in another way that eludes the scrutiny and sphere of operation of the super-ego. Hence, the racist, terrorist and lout are placed under a regime of watch and control (Celebrity Big Brother, Control Orders and ASBOs); but their thoughts and they themselves nonetheless elude their detention, because Big Brother has merely suppressed and displaced the forces that drive its enemies, not dealt with them and resolved the conflict.

Notice that I referred to these three forms of antagonism towards tolerance in inverted commas. One of the means by which censorship of these phenomena takes place is that particular individuals are stigmatised and scapegoated as representatives of the tendencies that society wishes to repress. In psychological terms, society projects onto those individuals its stereotypical image of the racist, terrorist and yob. These stereotypes in turn partly represent the racism, destructive violence and anti-social attitudes of normal, tolerant members of society themselves. By then suppressing those individuals and confining them to a limited, private space, society believes that it is dealing with racism, terrorism and mindless thuggery themselves – in the same way, and for the same reason, that respectable and respected members of the tolerant society believe they have resolved these very tendencies in themselves: by locking them up in a private, mental space that does not, and must not, be articulated openly.

In other words, all of us individually, and society as a whole, bear an uncanny resemblance to the racist, terrorist and hoodlum. They are as it were extreme manifestations of our own petty intolerances. But because we cannot admit to being intolerant, violent and anti-social in whichever respects apply to each of us, we end up wanting to suppress those extreme examples rather than deal with the underlying issues, which would involve confronting the 'enemy within' ourselves. That's not to deny that racism, terrorism and anti-social behaviour are real problems in the external world, for which practical solutions need to be sought. On the contrary, no real solution to these issues can be found if we're not prepared to admit that we're also an integral part of the problem.

Putting this in more straightforward language: to what extent really is any kind of understanding of the reasons for antagonism between the different races, nationalities and religions currently crowded together in the UK advanced by merely stigmatising Jade Goody as a racist and reprimanding Channel Four for not censoring material that offended the veneer of British inter-racial, multi-cultural tolerance and harmony? Similarly, we do not know whether the terrorist suspects that escaped from their Control Order detention the other week were really terrorists or not: one of the purposes of Control Orders is to suppress any possibility of public scrutiny of these cases and of an open debate on the grievances of those who might be drawn to terrorist-type violence. Tony Blair said we were placing too much emphasis on the civil liberties of the suspect. But if they're only suspects – assumed to be innocent until proven guilty – surely, they should be accorded every civil liberty. But 'suspect' in Blair's book seems to imply that that they are, and indeed they are treated as, guilty without trial.

Mr Blair himself, of course, has been widely accused of being the equivalent of a terrorist: a war criminal and mass murderer because of the direct and indirect consequences of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. Branding someone a terrorist or a war criminal is a way to distance and differentiate oneself from one's enemy: to refuse to see any parallel or linkage between your actions and those of your adversary. And so the deaths of tens of thousands of Iraqi civilians are not to be compared with those of 2,000 tragic victims of 9/11. The former are a consequence of 'justifiable' resistance to terrorism and defence of Western strategic interests; while the latter are mere terrorism – not an example of an albeit extreme and, in some cases, desperate response to the injustices for which the West is blamed in Palestine and to Western efforts to place the Middle East firmly under its control. And yet millions of tolerant British citizens gave Mr Blair their approval for the Iraqi foray – apparently accounting the lives of Arab civilians that would be lost as of less importance than those of the Westerners supposedly threatened by Saddam's WMD; just as the so-called Islamist terrorists apparently account the lives of Western 'infidels' as of less importance than those of Muslims.

And is the anti-social individual really any more anti-social than the mass of citizens who pursue their private interests and preoccupations with little concern for those who get left behind? The 'ASBP' (anti-socially behaving person) is stigmatised, on one level, precisely because (s)he is the symbol of the asocial society we have built: one where there is no longer any real shared vision of the type of society and communities we wish to create and sustain, but where individuals invest their energies and aspirations into their own private realm – their homes, their assets, their careers and relationships. The ASBP is someone who is left behind in this rat race. Deprived of the means, opportunity or ability to strive after these personal goals – and without any social or community network to re-direct their energies – they are people confronted by social indifference and lack of personal purpose. So in a sense, it is inevitable that they take it out on a society that has turned its backs on them and attempt to wreck our nice, quiet, comfortable lives. In this way, the ASBP is perhaps more social than the rest of us: they are crying out for the help and attention of a society that doesn't want to know. Rather than opening out and engaging in the social realm that is falling apart around us, our response to ASBPs exemplifies our own social alienation that has given rise to the anti-social behaviour in the first place: the ASBP is merely suppressed, placed under the terms of an ASBO – made to become merely another private individual that will no longer demand that we reach out to them from beyond the parapets of our homes-as-castles, thereby acting in a social, collective manner that could change all of our lives and begin to re-make a broken society.

Those who we ostracise as beyond tolerance – the racist, terrorist and anti-social person – are, ultimately, symbols of the limits of our own tolerance: of the prejudiced bigot, the supporter of violence and the selfish individualist that we all are to some extent. Overcoming these problems will involve defeating them in ourselves: to love our enemies, indeed, as ourselves.

Big Brother's Not Been Watching Enough: The Hypocrisy Of British Tolerance (Part Three)

Britain is the most extensively watched society in the world, in terms of the number of CCTV surveillance cameras per head of population. Three weeks ago, a senior British policeman criticised the extent of CCTV usage, expressing concern that CCTV was spreading out from the cities into the villages and that Britain was in danger of becoming a Big Brother society.

In my February blog entry, I expressed the view that Big Brother – the Channel Four reality-TV show – was a symbol for British society as a whole, as a meritocracy defined in relation to increasingly amoral market forces. Is it also a symbol for Britain as a CCTV culture: one where recording and viewing of actions and events that have previously been beyond the public view is driven by fear of the hidden forces that threaten to undermine the superficial tolerance of the market society – fear of anti-social behaviour and intentions of every kind, from the random and aggressive vandalism of local yobs to the ruthless and systematic actions of the organised criminal or terrorist?

One might say that CCTV is a prime example of the privatisation of the public domain: not just because the operation of CCTV systems is contracted out to private companies, but because it corresponds to a view of the world that is one of the citizen obsessed by watching what is happening 'out there' in the public space that threatens to overrun the security and control of his / her private realm and create a world of chaos and violence. In this way, CCTV is a way of reclaiming for the private individual a public space that has increasingly come to be seen as alienating and hostile. But at the same time, CCTV confirms and perpetuates that alienation from the public sphere, in that responsibility for making our cities, roads and countryside a secure environment in which the citizen can go about his / her private business is transferred away from individual citizens and 'outsourced' to anonymous 'providers' that are not part of the community they are watching.

Indeed, the extent of CCTV deployment in Britain could be taken as an indicator of the degree to which 'old-fashioned' communities have broken down. In a real community, streets, towns and villages belong to the people who live there, and they in turn have a sense of belonging to their environment and to each other. This is what provides real security: people watch out for each other and care for their environment; and there is not so much of a divide between that external social and physical environment, and the 'private' realm: the one flows into the other. CCTV marks the increasing retreat of individuals into private existences separated from the social and physical environment: into their homes, careers, and ever more atomised nuclear families. The external world beyond these bastions is correspondingly not only perceived as an ever greater threat to assets that are all the more vulnerable the more value is invested in them; but it actually becomes a greater threat. This is because 'the outside' is a space that the individual has absolved him- / herself of responsibility for shaping into a human and caring environment, so effectively handing it over to persons who may not have the individual's or the community's best interests at heart. In this sense, perhaps the encroachment of CCTV into the rural environment demonstrates that communities have increasingly broken down there, too, as well as in the cities.

Despite all of this, surveys show that people generally feel more secure in going about places where CCTV has been installed than where it hasn't. 'Classic' CCTV is more effective at reducing casual crime (such as muggings, car crime and violence against the person) than systematic crime, such as drug or paedophile rings, and terrorism. But even classic CCTV has its limits. Offenders can learn where the blind spots of existing cameras are; and while CCTV has a relative deterrent effect, it cannot really prevent the determined thug or thief from carrying out his / her intentions. In other words, it is no substitute for individuals or, rather, communities taking charge of their own security, and being prepared to keep watch over the places where the camera can't penetrate and to intervene when a criminal act is taking place – and the more people are involved in intervening, the less is the risk of being hurt in doing so. But the absence of such a genuine community-wide response to petty criminality and anti-social behaviour generates the demand for more and more cameras to be deployed to cover those blind spots. And as for the petty criminal or anti-social individual themselves, we simply want them taken out of the public domain, whether through detention in prisons or their equivalent, or through so-called Anti-Social Behaviour Orders (ASBOs), which – like anti-terrorist Control Orders – simply involve confining the offenders away from our embattled private lives into their own private spaces and homes. In either case, the problem of their intolerable behaviour is not resolved but merely displaced, to re-emerge elsewhere and on a subsequent occasion.

In other words, CCTV, as a response to behaviour that is beyond what a tolerant society can tolerate, illustrates the same ambiguities and inadequacies as Channel Four's Big Brother and Control Orders: while it appears to be a means to place radically intolerant / intolerable individuals under watch and control, it is actually a means of suppressing and censoring such intolerance rather than really dealing with it. The urge to watch such anti-social individuals is driven by a wish not to see them in a public domain that belongs to the tolerant, private individual who keeps themself to themself. The racist, terrorist or thug can continue to be a racist, terrorist or thug in a confined, private space away from our own. But this exile of the racist, terrorist or anti-social individual from our private world and consciousness means that ultimately (s)he will be free to operate in the public realm from which we have retreated.

Big Brother's Not Been Watching Enough: The Hypocrisy Of British Tolerance (Part Two)

Big Brother has also failed in its duty of watchfulness in another respect, it was revealed last week. It appears that three persons who were confined to their homes under the terms of so-called 'control orders' have escaped. Control orders are a set of judicially sanctioned restrictions to certain individuals' liberties (effectively a form of house arrest). This measure is aimed at terrorist suspects, where there may not be enough hard and fast evidence to stand up in a court of law, but where the security forces are sufficiently concerned about individuals' activities to wish to impose forcible constraints upon them.

As a result of the escapes that were publicised last week, the Home Secretary (interior minister) John Reid stated that the UK might have to opt out of some of the clauses of European human rights legislation that limited the scope of control orders. He promised tougher anti-terrorist measures would be introduced before parliament by the end of June, when he and his boss Tony Blair step down. Tony Blair himself pitched into the fray yesterday (Sunday 27 May) by arguing in favour of a new police power to stop and interrogate suspects on the street. The prime minister stated, “We have chosen as a society to put the civil liberties of the suspect, even if a foreign national, first. I happen to believe this is misguided and wrong”. Well, that all depends on what qualifies you as a suspect, I suppose. And are the civil liberties of 'foreigners' any less important than those of UK subjects?

The control order regime, and the fact that it was sufficiently lax to allow these three suspects to escape, is another illustration of the British approach to dealing with radical intolerance, discussed in my last entry in connection with the Shilpa Shetty episode in Celebrity Big Brother. Control orders bear all the hallmarks of a process of suppressing and censoring people and ideas that are 'beyond tolerance', rather than dealing with them in a more publicly accountable way, or even in a more ruthless, systematic fashion that would definitely put them out of circulation. In this sense, control orders already do represent Britain's equivalent to Guantanamo Bay, a direction in which the Northern Ireland minister Peter Hain yesterday warned that the new proposed anti-terrorist measures were taking Britain.

Indeed, what more striking expression of the ambiguity of British 'zero tolerance' towards the radically intolerant could there be than control orders? Individuals are not locked up in a judicial limbo, like Guantanamo (which, to give him his 'credit', Tony Blair has argued that they should be); instead, they are 'politely' removed from the public domain and confined to the private realm of their homes. It is as if the intolerance exemplified by supposed terrorists – like the intolerance to which every citizen is prone to some extent – can be tolerated so long as it is confined to the privacy of the home and the individual's thoughts. And like any form of censorship – political or psychological – the setting up of control orders represents a means not just to suppress the individuals and ideas that are intolerable but also to censor the very mechanisms by which those persons and thoughts are suppressed: the process takes place in a sort of judicial no-man's land, outside of the normal operation of justice, where the facts of the case, the names of the individuals involved, and the values driving the activities of the 'suspects' are removed from the public domain.

In other words, control orders are a very British compromise between wanting / needing to act in a radically intolerant way towards those suspected of threatening the very tolerance upon which our liberal society rests, without having to admit that one is behaving in an intolerant manner. Because of this, control orders do preserve some elements of 'liberty' for those subjected to them: the liberties of private association, conscience and speech. We don't in fact seek to exercise mind control like the Orwellian Big Brother or, arguably, like the mental torturers of Guantanamo Bay or Abu Ghraib. The specific control order that applied to the three escapees must also have allowed them sufficient freedom to meet or communicate with each other to co-ordinate their flight. There is perhaps even an element of British fair play involved: we allow them a bit of slack, on the basis that our gut instinct is that what we're doing to them strictly isn't fair, and on the assumption that they might have the decency to play fair in their turn and not attempt to abscond – and then we get all indignant when they have the temerity to do a runner anyway!

There's an interesting parallel between the control-order evaders and the lack of editorial oversight on which the Shilpa Shetty furore has now been blamed. When what is involved is censorship of something intolerable rather than acknowledging it and attempting to deal with it openly (whether through honest discussion or due legal process), then what happens is that rather than watching the object of suspicion, it is all too easy to take one's eye off the ball: to stop looking at the real issue and the real danger. And then that real threat, which has escaped your attention because you thought you'd placed it under control and then stopped looking at, can elude you and come back to haunt you.

The evasion of the three control-order detainees represents the danger that their actions and ideas could once again impinge upon, invade, the public domain. But in a more profound sense, their evasion presents the threat of an invasion of our privacy. Our confinement of those suspects to 'their own' private space was a means to keep them away from ours. Our British society is a private society, where the individual jealously guards their right to freely pursue their own personal and professional goals (both ever more exclusively defined in the terms of the market society, or 'private enterprise') untrammelled by the claims that religious or ideological absolutism might wish to impose upon them. The 'terrorist' or the 'racist' extremist is a threat to this tolerance based on mutual respect and pursuit of each other's private goals. They must therefore be suppressed, and their intolerance (as is ours) must be relegated to its own private space: the control-order detainees' prison-from-prison that is their home, or the prison of the Big Brother House. If they should get out – even more importantly, if their intolerable ideas should get out and gain hold – then, like the 'racist' outbursts in Celebrity Big Brother, this would indeed be an unbearable invasion of privacy.

Big Brother's Not Been Watching Enough: The Hypocrisy Of British Tolerance (Part One)

Channel Four got rapped on the knuckles this week. An Ofcom report on last January's Celebrity Big Brother criticised it for broadcasting some incidents of abusive behaviour towards the Bollywood star Shilpa Shetty without setting them in context or providing any opportunity for the inappropriate conduct and remarks to be challenged or reprimanded. The consequence was that around 45,000 viewers telephoned in to complain, many of whom regarded the actions of the offensive housemates as tantamount to racist bullying.

This was not in fact racist behaviour, as I've argued in some previous blog entries on the subject. Indeed, the Ofcom report makes no judgement as to whether the actions in question were racist; nor does Channel Four – in the formal apology that it has been obliged to make by Ofcom – accept that it was racist.

The issue that I am mainly interested in here is not a debate on what constitutes racism, or whether racism still has deep roots in British society. Rather, the whole episode casts a fascinating and somewhat dark light on what might lie behind the much-vaunted British value and national characteristic of tolerance; and on how we react to those who attack and threaten the socio-economic system we have built up around it. The question it raises is, how do we – as a nation – tolerate those who are intolerant: those who question the whole liberal basis of our tolerance and who may even seek to overthrow it altogether?

The British solution is not to seek to take on and eradicate intolerant movements and their representatives through direct political action, repressive measures or draconian laws. Such an approach would itself violate the principles of tolerance for the freedoms of others, even – within reason – those who portray themselves as the enemies of our own freedoms. The British method is to suppress and mute intolerance: to censor it and remove from the public domain into the private realm. In this way, we act towards the intolerance of others as we do to our own: we wall it up in the privacy of our thoughts, hearts and homes, and do not allow it to voice and manifest itself in our interactions with others – at least, if we want to be thought reasonable and respectable.

In the case of Big Brother, a group of private individuals are indeed locked away into a sort of home. But here, the reverse process seems to be at work: the people concerned are confined in the Big Brother House in order to be exposed in the public domain, not hidden from it. However, precisely because of the intense public scrutiny to which the housemates are subjected, along with the dictatorial rules that are imposed on them, the participants are placed in a situation where they do in fact have to suppress and hide away their intolerant reactions to one another, along with their self-seeking stratagems and tactics to take advantage of one another and enhance their chances of winning the game. Often, of course, within the intimacy of the 'Diary Room', the contestants will 'open up' and express their irritation or prejudices towards one or other of their co-residents, thereby covering up an attempt to damage the chances of their rivals under the guise of an all too understandable private exasperation at someone they cannot stand – a feeling that they must suppress within the 'public' domain of their interactions with other contestants inside the house.

The whole 'premise' of the Big Brother House is that it blurs the distinctions between the public and private realms in this way. In the case of Celebrity Big Brother, the model of confinement within a private space being designed to at once suppress and expose in the public domain individuals' private thoughts and feelings is complicated still further. In this case, the contestants are already well known to the public. Their sojourn in the BB House therefore appeals to the audience's curiosity to peer through celebrities' public personae and catch a glimpse of their private selves (and even their 'private parts', let's be honest). By contrast, the appeal for the participants themselves is almost the opposite: that the show offers them some further 'exposure', puts them in front of the public eye and offers them a chance to present an attractive public persona, thereby potentially revitalising or relaunching a flagging career.

In this sense, the Shilpa Shetty episode clearly delivered on Celebrity Big Brother's dual selling point: exposing normally suppressed intolerant and aggressive attitudes to the public view; and providing an avenue for a fading Bollywood star to launch her career as a Western movie actress and celebrity. However, the programme has now been adjudged guilty of being too honest and realistic: too much 'reality TV', in fact, and not enough mindless entertainment. Indeed, you could say that the show failed to be sufficiently Big-Brother with regard to the naked hostility that was shown towards Shilpa, expressed and justified – in the eyes of those responsible – in the terms of cultural prejudice and stereotype.

The original Big Brother – the Orwellian one, in the novel 1984 – did not merely seek to watch over the private actions and intimate thoughts of citizens; but, where these were ideologically intolerable, the state sought to transform those thoughts from within by inventing a new form of language – Double Speak – that represented a sort of knowing lie that the individual came to believe because the old honest language came gradually to be forgotten. In the case of Celebrity Big Brother, the show failed to make the outbursts of Jade Goody and others 'acceptable' by presenting them within an editorial context that allowed a politically correct spin to be placed on them and appropriate sanctions on the offending individuals to be imposed. In other words, the programme merely exposed the private prejudices and intolerant reactions of its contestants but did not – unlike its Orwellian predecessor – seek to transform them by making the transgressors publicly confess to their 'crimes' and commit themselves to not 're-offending' in the same way.

Celebrity Big Brother got its brief wrong: its purpose is not merely to expose the ugly face of hidden intolerance but, in fact, to participate in society's attempt to suppress it, in part by narrativising a process whereby individuals come to recognise their faults, reform their ways and reconcile their differences. The object of Big Brother's systematic surveillance, in fact, is precisely not to watch intolerance but to censor it from the public domain. The editorial failings of the programme boiled down to the fact that viewers were indeed forced to watch a spectacle of intolerance. Big Brother may well have been watching the housemates, but it wasn't vigilant: it didn't see what was going wrong early enough in order to prevent it from escalating almost to the status of a crime.

And now, in order to prevent a recurrence, the ordinary, non-Celebrity version of the programme that is once again starting up will itself be watched over. The author of the Ofcom report stated: “I . . . welcome the measures that they have taken to ensure proper and rigorous oversight. We will be watching very closely to ensure that these have the desired effect”. The Commission for Racial Equality also said it would be “keeping a close eye” on the new series of Big Brother: “We will be monitoring it carefully to ensure that such disgraceful behaviour is not repeated”, a spokesman said. And so we now have the 'spectacle' of the watchdogs of the media and of political correctness watching over Big Brother in order to ensure that as Big Brother watches the show's contestants, it keeps a watchful eye over what it is acceptable or not for its viewers to watch. More a case of 'Big Brother, you're being watched' than 'Big Brother is watching you'.

But the one thing we won't be watching, if the regulators get their way, is any all too realistic scenes of unacceptable intolerance.

The Amoral Market and the Randomness Of Reward: Inventing Britain For the 21st Century (Part Seven)

The TV show ‘Big Brother’ is a competition: “only a gameshow”, as the contestants of the first ever, non-celebrity version of the programme chanted out at one point. But as such, it is a metaphor for contemporary British society – reality TV.

In the second of this blog series on ‘Britology’ (the cultural project to define and unite around ‘British values’), on 3 December, I listed one of the most important contemporary British values as ‘free competition (of ideas, individuals, businesses, economies)’. This is the form that freedom takes in modern Britain: not the high-minded Enlightenment concept of Liberty (although it is a practical development of it), nor the Christian idea of moral freedom. It is essentially what happens to freedom when the model for society as a whole is the market. Freedom becomes the right to compete fully in the market place, as it provides the fundamental condition for the market place to be genuinely a market: one where goods and services are allowed to find their true ‘value’ based on the principles of supply and demand – the matching of our desires with the conditions for their realisation.

This is not to say that freedom in the pure meanings defined above is not also thought to be an essential British value. But, strictly speaking, freedom is not a value in itself: it is the very condition for objects, desires and actions to be of value to us, and to be perceived as good or bad, because then they are things that we have chosen. Cultures endow freedom with their own meanings and ‘purpose’: freedom is the possibility of choosing and embracing something that a given culture or society holds dear. In modern Britain, the exercise of ‘choice’ has become associated more with consumer choices (choice as a fundamental condition and characteristic of the market-society), rather than with informed moral choice, or even with choosing a form of society on the basis of some notion of the collective good or other ideological belief.

In this context, in contemporary British culture, the value or merit of ideas, individuals or physical objects is increasingly not perceived to be intrinsic (related to their moral status, beauty or ability to serve real human needs, for instance) but depends on their desirability and marketability: their ability to appeal to our free choices, to compete successfully in the market (to ‘participate fully in society’), thereby vindicating the efficacy of the free market itself to deliver what we want (to ‘realise our aspirations’). This model for society admits of an egalitarian dimension when it is allied to the goal of bringing about the inclusion of previously marginalised and disadvantaged groups, such as gays and lesbians, ethnic minorities and disabled persons. In the society-as-market paradigm, the condition of these groups is transformed when they are ‘freed’ – enabled – to participate in the market as fully as any other groups or individuals: trading themselves and ‘what they have to offer’ in exchange for society’s recognition that this has a value.

But there is an amorality and randomness about all this: the value of something becomes equated with the extent to which we want to have, do or be it; and the principal criterion by which we judge the merits of a person or action is by how they are rewarded, or not, with market / social acceptance = economic success. The reason why ‘celebrity culture’ has taken off in the way it has is because celebrity (popularity and commercial success, fame and fortune) has acquired pseudo-intrinsic value as a symbol of the power of the market to realise the dreams of nobodies (people of no value) and turn them into somebodies (valuable commodities).

Big Brother is in this sense a microcosm of modern Britain. It is a show that specialises in taking nobodies and turning them into instant celebrities and valuable commodities simply by exposing them to a mass-market audience and a democratic (and highly lucrative) popular vote: less of a mirror to society than a metaphor of our society as shop window. It is no accident, in Blair’s Britain, that Big Brother’s success in endowing supposedly ordinary individuals with enhanced social-market value has been such an influential egalitarian fast-tracker, helping to bring a whole variety of previously ‘undervalued’ groups into the socio-economic mainstream through the democratic acceptance their symbolic representatives have attained through the show. Gays, lesbians, women, transsexuals, racial minorities, disabled people and, yes, even Christians have either won Big Brother or done extremely well in it – expressing the social will that these previously discriminated groups should be allowed to enjoy the rewards of the market-society as fully as any other sections of it.

If the value of individuals, lifestyles and social groups is measured in terms of their right and ability to participate on level terms in the social market, what this means is that the morality of those individuals and lifestyles becomes secondary to their socio-economic value (their ‘contribution to society’). Moral choices become a series of ‘lifestyle options’, and the moral good is equated with what is ‘good for society’: with whatever contributes to greater social inclusion; greater participation in the free (and liberating) market; and the encompassing of ever more aspects of life within the market, resulting in their legitimisation. Ultimately, this leads to a sort of moral neutrality or equivalence: the moral good converges with the concept of equality, such that the good is no longer a factor of differentiation (setting apart right from wrong), but, on the contrary, the good is whatever contributes to the greatest lack of ethical discrimination between ‘competing’ choices and lifestyles. In this context, the ‘common good’ (associated with the idea that that there are certain actions and choices that can be of benefit to the whole or greater part of the community and of society) is replaced by a belief that all individuals and choices are of equal value (equivalent, ‘equally valid’, as good as one another). Instead of the qualitative idea of the common good, we have a quantitative notion of the ‘best’, which is whichever lifestyle, product or individual is most successful in the social market – whichever becomes the most widely adopted and most commonly accepted (common goods, indeed). The reversal of traditional morality is completed when it is the centres of resistance to this commercialisation and equalisation of values – such as the Catholic Church, nationalism and Islam – that are vilified and morally condemned.

The recent row over gay adoption was a case in point. One of the most interesting – and least commented – aspects of the controversy was the way adoption was framed as a sort of commercial service offered by adoption agencies to would-be parents. The whole context of the discussion was the sexual orientation regulations in the forthcoming Equality Bill, which set out the bases for ensuring equal access to goods and services irrespective of sexual orientation. But is adoption a commercial service in this way? If that is the case, then adopted children become a sort of product that gay couples are allowed to purchase on the free market on equal terms with straight couples, married or not; and adoption agencies’ ‘services’ are offered to the parents, not the children, and consist essentially of matching children with suitable parents in rather a similar way to the pairing of individuals carried out by dating agencies or the matching of potential employees to vacant positions provided by recruitment agencies.

But this is not really what adoption is all about: it should be a service of love towards the children, whereby the agencies are dedicated to finding parents who in turn will serve the children with their life-long love and support. Beneath all the rhetoric and position taking on both sides of the debate, the issue was very much one of a conflict between a traditional Christian ethic focused on the needs of the children and the demand of the market society for an equal supply of children to fulfil the desires of all would-be parents, irrespective of their lifestyle choices. This in part accounts for the fact that the perspective of the needs of the children was relatively absent from the arguments of the pro-gay adoption side: these needs were secondary to the demand for equal ‘rights’ to access adoption services – the rights of adopters being implicitly prioritised over what is right for the children. Maybe also, as most of the people defending the cause of equality for gay people in this area were straight, there was an element of not wanting to delve too deeply into the question of the needs of the children; as the majority of straight people perhaps secretly feel that adoption by a stable heterosexual couple is in fact the best option for children, despite the social market-equality agenda.

The row over the supposed racist bullying of Celebrity Big Brother (CBB) participant Shilpa Shetty by Jade Goody and other contestants was another example of a clash between the Big Brother model of social-market equality and more traditional ideas of cultural separation. I’ve written about the CBB controversy in previous blog entries. In brief, Shilpa was not a victim of racism but of a sort of jealousy and bitchiness that is capable of being read, to some extent, as representative of a not uncommon English-nationalist resentment and resistance towards people of other nationalities and races taking advantage of the British free market-society and competing successfully within it, to the apparent detriment of those who were born here. In the discussions on the show, Shilpa was clearly seen as a representative of the ideals of social-market integration: that people of all nations and races should be allowed to compete freely, equally and fairly in British society and its cultural-economic extension – the global market. But Jade Goody’s behaviour – for all its aggression and crudeness – could be seen as the expression of a wish for England to be for the English and India to be for the Indians: a defence of separate, distinctive national-cultural identities. This is not just jingoistic and racist: the wish to maintain differences between cultures can, on the contrary, be seen as proceeding from a concern to hold on to things that are precious and distinctive about one’s country and background, and not for everything to be absorbed into the globalised free market in which all cultures are equally valid to one’s own, and have an equal right to exist in – and compete against – one’s own culture.

Similarly, Shilpa Shetty’s own aspiration to compete and achieve success in a Western market (symbolised and actualised by her participation in CBB) could be seen as symptomatic of how the success of ethnic Indians and of the nation of India in the global economy is actually contributing to a loss of distinctive aspects of Indian culture, rather than being an affirmation of them. Shilpa Shetty – the Bollywood star – was not setting out to bring Bollywood to a mass market in the West, but rather to leave behind her Indian background and to forge a career in Western films and TV: on Western terms. This is perhaps one of the meanings of Jade’s suggestion to Shilpa that she should go and visit some of the slums in her country: not so much an insult to India as a poor and backward country, but an implication that Shilpa was so concerned to make a career for herself on the global market that she was indifferent to the continuing hardships faced by the people – Indian filmgoers – who’d given her the opportunity in the first place. In this context, Shilpa could be seen as representative of an individualistic, free-market-competitive notion of equality superseding a true concern for social equality, opportunity and solidarity on a more collective level.

Shilpa Shetty was a convenient symbol of ‘pure’ racism, uncomplicated by other factors that might have made the unpleasant language directed towards her more recognisable: appearing to have more in common with generally held opinions and ordinary behaviour. Ethnic Indians constitute one of the most successfully integrated racial minorities in British society, and this is what made it easy to view Shilpa’s treatment as simply racist: motivated by prejudice, ignorance and race hate rather than by broader socio-economic and cultural factors. But if a Polish or Lithuanian immigrant had taken Shilpa’s place and received the same treatment, would it have been possible to present it as racist? If so, then all the many people up and down the land who resent the way in which low-paid jobs have been given to Central and Eastern European immigrants – pushing down wages and, so the argument goes, reducing opportunities for British people – are also merely racist and bigoted. And how different the arguments would have been if Shilpa were a burka- and niqab-wearing Asian Muslim! Then her victimisation could not have been described as racist, not only because it would have been more obvious that it was more accurately viewed as the expression of socio-cultural insecurity and defensiveness; but also because many of those decrying the ‘bullying’ of Shilpa Shetty would actually agree with at least the ‘philosophical’ basis for strong suspicion of the Muslim veil, if not the overtly aggressive expression of that hostility that might have been provided by Jade Goody! After all, what does the veil symbolise? One of the things it symbolises – at least from the point of view of Western onlookers – is the resistance of orthodox Islam to the Western market-society in which all have a right – indeed, a natural inclination – to trade themselves, their goods and services freely, openly and equally: women as much as men. And this resistance of course has a spiritual and moral foundation: ethical differentiation between right and wrong lifestyles, and between the expected roles and behaviour of men and women, versus the social-market-egalitarian view that all have a right – and therefore, it is right – to lead a full, independent and active socio-economic existence.

In this context, it was highly invidious when – in a speech on multiculturalism at the end of January 2007 – the UK Conservative Party leader David Cameron compared Muslim ‘extremists’ with members of the hard-right British National Party (BNP). Not many commentators seem to have pointed out how conceptually screwball and insulting towards Muslims this comparison is. Islam is one of the bugbears of the BNP, and the party’s supporters in its strongholds have been linked with campaigns designed to fuel prejudice and even violence against Muslim communities. It’s about as accurate as equating Nazis with Communists: OK, their actions might have been similar but not their philosophical justification. This is no better than when President Bush condemned ‘Islamists’ as ‘Islamic fascists’. It’s an example of just how prejudiced and extreme in its turn is the tendency for moral equalisation inherent within the social-market-egalitarian point of view. Just as any lifestyle and form of economic activity that promotes a dynamic free market is capable of being seen as ‘good’, anything that opposes the amoral, global market is seen as ‘evil’; and therefore, fascists and ‘Islamists’ are somehow equivalent.

The problem is the definition of what is an ‘extremist’, and Mr Cameron’s view appears to be that anyone who is in favour of the introduction of Shariah law is an extremist. Promoting such a thing through violence and insurrection could certainly qualify for the epithet of ‘extremist’; but holding Shariah law as an ideal for the whole of society is probably something that the majority of Muslims around the world regard as integral to their faith. So is it a form of extremism merely to be a devout, committed Muslim who attempts to structure his or her daily life around the dictates of Shariah; and who regards the commitment to Islam as fundamentally more important, morally and ontologically, than any commitment to a secular state and to the material benefits of economic life? The ‘racist’ (BNP) and the ‘Islamist extremist’ are facile categories with which anyone who resists the desired unification of Britain around an optimised and globalised free market-society can be readily assimilated. The views that are stigmatised in this way can then be condemned as promoting social division rather than merely standing for a different society and way of life than the competitive free market-society into which the unifiers would have us all fully engaged: to be different and separate from the market society is therefore simply equated with divisiveness.

There is perhaps no more compelling symbol of the way the British political establishment is wedded to the idea that market forces are inherently good, and can always be channelled to serve the cause of economic regeneration and social inclusion, than the government’s enthusiasm to allow the development of so-called ‘super-casinos’: Las Vegas-style ‘gaming’ (=gambling) complexes. On announcing recently that the first of these casinos was to be built in a deprived area of the city of Manchester, the government attempted to justify this choice on the basis that the new gambling venue would bring employment and regeneration to a place where it was desperately needed. But no consideration was given to the broader harm to individuals and society as a whole that will inevitably come from more people being drawn into gambling addiction by the lure of such places. Instead, the emphasis was placed on gambling being just another form of entertainment choice, which consumers (gamblers) were entitled to have the opportunity to make or not to make.

In this way, gambling stands as another metaphor for the way in which the amoral market, and the random nature of success or failure in it, has come to replace traditional moral judgements of right and wrong, and of reward being linked to true merit (as opposed to success being viewed as meretricious in its own right). There are winners and losers in the lottery of the market society – but that’s just life, isn’t it? You pays your money and takes your choice. Just as gay couples, so the argument goes, have the right to choose – and it is right that they can choose – whether to spend their money on adopting children. Just as paying TV viewer / voters have the right to choose / it is right that they did choose to support an Indian Bollywood star who was trading on her sex appeal as the innocent victim of racism; rather than choosing a more random celebrity – Jade Goody – on whom those same viewers could vent their envy of the coveted fame and fortune they’d not been able to achieve. Just as senior politicians have the right to – it is right that they should – brand Muslim traditionalists as extremists because they resist the encroachment of the market into every aspect of life; thereby adding fuel to the fire of British-nationalist Islamophobia, and then adding insult to injury by comparing Islamic supporters of Shariah to their very enemies in the BNP.

After all, we live in a free society in Britain, don’t we? And the purpose of freedom is to create a competitive, dynamic market society, in which all individuals, goods and services can realise their true value. But this freedom isn’t made available so that ‘extremists’ can abuse it – in the name of so-called ‘free speech’ – by daring to question its morality and socio-cultural consequences. So cultural conservative, Catholic traditionalist or devout Muslim beware. Speak out, criticise the morality of the global market ideal at your peril. Because in Britain, Big Brother is watching you.