Where have all the ideas gone? It’s not a lament t

hat you hear in most circles, but it is one that keeps Claire Fox, Director of the Institute of Ideas, awake at night. It is fair to say that Fox is on a one-woman mission to stoke the intellectual furnaces of the public and make debate a national pastime to rival football or Strictly Come Dancing. She recognises that it sounds a bit kooky, that the ‘Institute of Ideas’ could be just a “vacuous strapline” for an ineffectual talking shop. But she places her organisation in a much grander Enlightenment tradition, where “people sitting in salons or smoky rooms in pubs, writing and philosophising, propelled social change”.

Claire Fox may blame the authoritarian paternalism of New Labour for the demise of the smoke-filled rooms of old, but she says the crowding-out of ideas from the public sphere cannot be laid at any individual’s door. With the fall of the Berlin Wall twenty years ago, Fox argues, we entered a self-consciously post-ideological age, the liberal democratic system seemed triumphant and so ideas became secondary. At the same time, “we seem to have lost faith in the capacity of the public sphere to deal with complex and difficult ideas”; she may reject ‘dumbing-down’ as a rather glib phrase but it sneaks into her discourse. This emanates from many different institutions: government “nannies us”, the media start “chasing, not creating, an audience”, and shockingly, even our top academic institutions elevate the “student as a consumer” and not the expansion of knowledge for its own sake.

Fox’s analysis of “the academy” is interesting, and sharply at odds with current practice. On the one hand she recognises that “the aspiration to open up the ivory towers to greater numbers of people is a perfectly admirable and progressive one”, but she does not want to achieve this at the expense of genuine scholarship. She claims that to avoid this trade-off would have required “a massive commitment in schooling” but instead the government just “puts the onus on the universities to change, not on young people aspiring to universit

y”. There is an assumption that students can never rise up, so they don’t make them try.

This evidently ties in sharply with her comments about the ‘public sphere’ in general, the failure to challenge people intellectually, a satisfaction with consumers who act according to narrow fixed preferences and cannot be inspired to challenge themselves or others. Fox is rather unfashionable in her assertion that “we should, as a society, aim to give everybody as academic an education as we can, for as long as we can”, decrying patronising talk of multiple intelligences and ‘vocational students’. But what lies behind this ambition is a brutal honesty about the status quo: although a third of the population now goes to university, she says, most only go to a building with the word ‘university’ on the front of it, which is not quite the same as getting a university education. One cannot help but concede, as she does, that “in a way they’re being conned, they’re being sold a pup”.

Sensing her protectiveness of old-fashioned scholarship, I ask what she thinks of higher education being subsumed under the super-ministry of Peter Mandelson, anticipating her reaction. More and more, she responds, governments approach universities and insist that “you have to prove your worth according to how much you contribute to UK plc”, an explicit intervention in the life of the academy that instrumentalises education. But she is hard-nosed about the situation: “politicians have always been philistines – so what’s new?” she asks rhetorically. For Fox, the real shocker is that the academics go along with it. She is vehement that they need more backbone and should resist these perennial political pressures.

Claire Fox’s own intellectual development is an unusual one. She went to Warwick University to read Literature, which she describes wistfully as being “allowed to escape from the reality of getting a job, to enter into the world of the mind”. And this exploration of intellectual life, this freedom from the pedestrian work-a-day world, is the context for her passion for ideas. Having only got a 2.2 in her degree, Fox was already preoccupied by her involvement in the Revolutionary Communist Party, editing their journal, Living Marxism (later abbreviated to the more contemporary LM). The RCP at the time was a crucible for discontented young things, and when in the 1990s it ceased to exist in its old guise, many of her peers became involved in the thrusting, debate-oriented web magazine, Spiked Online, while Fox herself went on to found the Institute of Ideas.

Interested by this pedigree I challenge her on the value of revolution in the modern world, but her response is deflated; she concedes that “we’re so far away from the possibility of it that it just sounds hair-brained, a rhetorical flourish”. She has more modest, but no less important aims of “sowing the seeds so that people might actually start believing in social change”. Although her manner may sometimes come across as world-weary or cynical, when you talk to Claire Fox you come away believing that the real misplaced cynicism is in society at large, which has lost the sense of its own agency – a very Marxist critique of the modern world. We are afflicted by “presentism”, she insists; we are intellectually trapped in the present by our negativity about the past and our fear of the future. This is why we are so far away from meaningful progress, let alone revolution: “If you’ve got no future-orientation, you’ve got no social change agenda”.

Fox’s insistence on dynamism and progress through debate resonates with the principles of the Institute of Ideas’ annual conference-cum-workshop, the Battle of Ideas (BoI). She isn’t interested in having show-trial debates, where the conclusions are already ordained by political correctness. That’s why the BoI is questioning orthodoxies around anti-bullying campaigns, sex education, human rights and other pet-projects of the self-styled liberal-left. Fox may not shy away from calling herself Left-wing but her allegiance is far from tribal. Intellectual honesty and rigorous debate are the personal principles she has built into the architecture of her Institute of Ideas and which she will daub on her banners in the Battles ahead.

The Battle of Ideas takes place this weekend in London. A Satellite debate on ‘Post-recession Ideologies’ will be held in St.John’s Auditorium, Oxford, on Wednesday 4th November.

Martin Bell, veteran BBC war reporter and former independent politician, is the author of the recently published book, ‘A Very British Revolution: The Expenses Scandal and How to Save Our Democracy.’ It is perhaps unsurprising that the man, who once stood as an independent candidate in the Tatton constituency in 1997 against Neil Hamilton, with his anti-sleaze campaign, is vocal yet again about the need for more ‘honest politics’. When I meet him in his house in north London, he is dressed in one of his trademark white suits, whose dry cleaning bills he assures me later, he footed himself.

As a former member of the Committee on Standards and Privileges, he is a fierce critic of both the weakly regulated parliamentary system that allowed MPs to claim for extravagant expenses and the corrupt MPs themselves, who gleefully took advantage of the lax rules. He comments, ‘I was so appalled that I decided to write the book and as I wrote the book I found it actually wrote itself. It only took ten weeks from start to finish. I think it’s probably the most polemical and I hope it’s the one with the greatest effect because our MPs cannot go on as they have been.’

He attributes the dismissal by the Speaker and the House of Commons Commission of Elizabeth Filkin, the second Parliamentary Commissioner for Standards, as the ‘critical moment’ in the deterioration of Parliament. ‘The message that sent to the MPs was that they could abuse the allowances as much as they liked and they could get away with it because the regulation system was so light.’

For Martin, MPs have no one to blame but themselves. ‘This was not something done to them, this was something done by them.’ However, many MPs have argued that they receive relatively low wages and the allowances are necessary for them to adequately perform their job. Is this a valid excuse? ‘You’re far too kind’ he begins. ‘We know how this happened because repeatedly for political reasons they felt they could not vote themselves the substantial pay rises they thought they were entitled to, so they took it through the back door by creating new allowances. I was amazed they’re allowed to claim their grocery bills on the taxpayer. And then of course they cheated and they stole, I mean we’re talking here of thievery and corruption.’

He believes Labour faces the ‘greatest damage’ following the scandal and that the economic recession has worsened the public backlash. ‘I don’t think it would have been so extreme, so severe if the good times were still rolling.’ Did the affair drive

voters away from the mainstream parties in the European Parliament elections? He responds, ‘They were already disenchanted with them.’

Martin is critical of the general culture of dishonesty and lack of transparency within the House of Commons, which was revealed by the MPs’ expenses claims and their subsequent attempts to hide their actions. ‘If the details hadn’t been leaked surreptitiously, we wouldn’t have known what was going on from the House of Commons’ own version: the so-called redacted expenses. We wouldn’t have known about the flipping of homes, the duck island or even the phantom mortgages; we would have known very little. There was a deliberate attempt to obstruct by the House of Commons. They’re answerable to that.’

The Telegraph bought the leaked expenses data. Should we be wary of chequebook journalism? He disagrees, ‘I cannot think of an example of chequebook journalism with a greater public interest defence…we’re talking about the looting of public funds.’ He praises the rigorous and neutral handling of the scandal by the conservatively aligned newspaper, which was critical of both Labour and Conservative MPs. ‘Okay so the Telegraph started off with cabinet ministers but it was hugely criticised inside the Conservative party for its even handed attitude. It was very unpopular with its own MP.’

The Western world has often perceived its systems and values as superior and has been willing to impose them on other countries. I ask him whether he thinks the scandal will bring some much needed humility to Britain and an honest re-evaluation of the way we operate. He comments, ‘I hope so. We dared to impose democracy on other countries from Afghanistan to Iraq, or we seek to and fail, while our own democratic system is manifestly unrepresentative in that our voting system doesn’t reflect the popular will and it’s defective, it’s actually corrupt in itself.’

He argues that Britain could learn from the American system, which he acknowledges is not without its shortcomings. ‘Once elected, an American representative of the people has to be absolutely transparent in his or her expenses; everything is out there. I think we can also take a lesson from the Americans in the huge surge of enthusiasm for Barack Obama in the last campaign, which translated into terrific fundraising support so that he didn’t have to prostitute himself to big businesses. If we can get a politics which appeals to people’s ideals, you know how little it does now, then I think many of the problems we have now are going to be solved.’

Martin declares Oxford University is ‘largely to blame’ for the alienation between the political class and the public. He criticises the direct route taken by many MPs, who go straight from Oxford and Cambridge University into politics. Holding a ‘proper job’ first, he argues, would help MPs to better connect with their constituents.

From the mock Tudor beams to the bath plugs, which was his favourite expenses claim? Af

ter some pondering he replies, ‘The pork pies claimed by Derek Wyatt. Can you imagine the connotations?’ ‘If you could claim for one thing fully funded by the taxpayer, what would it be?’ The question makes him uncomfortable and he tries to dodge it, ‘Pass. I can’t think what it would be. I am a happy man.’ I tempt him, ‘How about another white suit?’ He replies conceding, ‘I am running out of them. By the way I did pay my own dry cleaning bills.’ Yes we know Martin, let’s hope other MPs may learn from your example.

What is the UK Supreme Court and how does it differ from the Law Lords?

The Supreme Court is a formally independent body with its own premises. By contrast, the Law Lords were – although independent when deciding cases – technically a committee of the House of Lords and were housed in the Palace of Westminster. Law Lords were full members of the House and could participate in its debates. Although the current Supreme Court Justices were all previously Law Lords, they are now excluded from the House until they retire as Justices (while still using the titles ‘Lord’ and ‘Baroness’), and future Justices will not be members. However, the formal powers of the Supreme Court are no different from those of the Law Lords. Some thus describe the Court’s creation as merely a presentational exercise. However, others argue that due to the Court’s formal independence, it will have a stronger sense of constitutional legitimacy and thus be more assertive than were the Law Lords.

Is our Supreme Court like that of the USA?

It’s different in three crucial respects. First, unlike the US Supreme Court it does not have the general power to set aside legislation (statutes must be set aside if incompatible with EU law, but this power comes from the EU and UK courts have acknowledged it for twenty years). The UK Court is thus weaker. Secondly, the UK Court is not always the last court of appeal. Cases involving EU law may go on to the European Court of Justice (ECJ) and cases involving European Convention rights to the European Court of Human Rights. Some people therefore argue that the ECJ, rather than any national court (whatever it happens to be called), provides the better European analogy to the US Supreme Court. Thirdly, the UK Supreme Court has three extra Justices (12 rather than 9), and – as with the Law Lords – the appointment process is far less openly partisan.

How does it affect me as a citizen?

Since the Supreme Court’s powers are formally no different from those of the Law Lords, in theory citizens won’t be affected beyond the general point that making the Court independent of Parliament confers greater legitimacy on the entire judicial process. But in the longer term, it’s possible that things may alter if the Supreme Court, relying on the perception that it is more legitimate than were the Law Lords, becomes more ambitious in interpreting and using its powers. For example, in cases where human rights compete with national security arguments, we can certainly expect to see the current tensions between politicians and the courts continue. But it’s an interesting question whether the tensions might grow stronger if the Supreme Court interprets and uses its powers more ambitiously than did the Law Lords. How a court eng

ages with such matters is often as important as the formal scope of its powers.

How controversial is the change? Why has it occurred?

The legal foundation for the Supreme Court lies in the Constitutional Reform Act 2005. It may seem odd that the Court is only now opening for business, but the process of replacing the Law Lords has been difficult for technical reasons. On the ‘controversy’ point, some lawyers have argued for years for a Supreme Court because it would be, or appear to be, more independent than the Law Lords and thus more legitimate. Opponents have claimed either that a formally independent Court would make little difference, or that it would provoke unwanted controversy if it in fact turned out to be more assertive than the Law Lords. These arguments aside, cynics suggest that Tony Blair (Prime Minister at the time) proposed creating the Court only as a pretext for easing his mentor, Lord Irvine, out of office as Lord Chancellor.

Is it worth the money?

This depends on the view you take about the previous questions. The estimated rough cost of setting up the Supreme Court is £56 million. If you think the Court will make no real difference (not least because the first 11 members were all previously Law Lords), then probably it is not money well spent. But if you think that an independent Court will confer greater legitimacy on the judicial process, your answer may well be different – especially if you believe that courts need to be still bolder in scrutinising the actions of politicians and that the new Supreme Court will help in this respect. As in just about any constitutional debate, plausible answers need to engage with theory as well as practicality.

Nicholas Bamforth is a Fellow in Law at Queen’s

David Barclay, OUSU Presidential candidate

“We are adults and should be treated as such”

The current fiasco at Queen’s has once again rammed home the brutal truth of Oxford life – the SCR always wins. Whether it’s quality of accommodation, student discipline or Entz events, the interests of students are consistently undermined by tutors who somehow feel competent to dictate college rules from on high. They trample upon pretensions of college equality and reveal Oxford’s rhetoric of modernism for the sham that it is.

 Two strands of argument stand out as to why JCR’s deserve serious levels of autonomy. The first is perfectly simple – we are adults. In college we are charged with cooking, cleaning, organising our time and shaping our extra-curricular lives. In tutorials we are asked to think for ourselves, to question received wisdoms and forge new and innovative arguments and solutions. At the ballot box we are entrusted with choosing our JCR committees to represent our interests. In all these we are told that the University is preparing us to be the leaders of tomorrow. And yet when any situation arises where the interests of JCR and SCR might possibly diverge, all the talk dissolves and college order is imposed. We are given curfews, fined and threatened at will. And when we complain and stand up for ourselves our university careers are dangled in front of our faces with breathtaking callousness.

 The second strand follows from the first – namely, that as responsible adults we are in fact more likely to make good decisions about our lives than SCRs ever could. As JCR President of Worcester, I encountered many members of the SCR whose intelligence and aptitude was matched by their care for students. I also come across many who were so out of touch with the lifestyle of students that even when they did care they were incompetent to legislate properly. And, it is sad to say, I also came across some for whom the welfare of students was a secondary consideration behind the ‘glory of the college name’. Ultimately for many the Norrington table is king and student welfare will time and again fall by the wayside in the attempt to achieve academic perfection.

JCRs, on the other hand, have much purer intentions. Committee members are always likely to know and care more about the students of a college than any SCR could. As intelligent adults JCRs should therefore be afforded the power to make decisions which are purely related to the student community. Should individuals fail to discharge this duty effectively, there are clear democratic processes in place in every college for them to be removed from their position by their peers.

If we as students are serious about ourselves and our public life at university, we should stand up against the dominion of heartless and outdated SCRs and reclaim the power that is rightfully ours to make the decisions which affect our lives.

Oliver Willmott, Geography, St John’s

“We are here to work. We agreed to these terms”