Some interesting ideas from the latest issue of the Economist:
Free exchangeAs inequality grows, so does the political influence of the rich
Concentrated wealth leads to concentrated power
SQUEEZING the top 1% ought to be the most natural thing in the world for politicians seeking to please the masses. Yet, with few exceptions, today’s populist insurgents are more concerned with immigration and sovereignty than with the top rate of income tax. This disconnect may be more than an oddity. It may be a sign of the corrupting influence of inequality on democracy.
You might reasonably suppose that the more democratic a country’s institutions, the less inequality it should support. Rising inequality means that resources are concentrated in the hands of a few; they should be ever more easily outvoted by the majority who are left with a shrinking share of national income.
Indeed, some social scientists think that historical expansions of the franchise came as governments sought credible ways to assure voters that resources would be distributed more equitably. Daron Acemoglu and James Robinson argue that in the 19th century governments across the West faced the threat of socialist revolution. Mere promises of greater redistribution were insufficient to eliminate such threats; institutional guarantees were needed. Giving credible guarantees, they reckon, meant increasing the share of the population allowed to vote. Other researchers argue that anti-majoritarian institutions embedded within democratic systems, such as Britain’s House of Lords and America’s electoral college, were prized by elites not because they seemed likely to lead to better policies but because they served as a check on the egalitarian tendencies of the masses.
But studies of the relation between democracy and levels of inequality point in conflicting directions. Mr Acemoglu and Mr Robinson tackle the question in another paper, co-written with Suresh Naidu and Pascual Restrepo. They conclude that democracies raise more taxes than non-democracies do. But this does not translate reliably into lower levels of income inequality.
One possible reason for this disconnect is that people do not care much about inequality, or want their politicians to do anything about it. The results of surveys suggest otherwise, however. When asked by pollsters, more than two-thirds of Americans and Europeans express concern about current levels of inequality. Alternatively, the creaky wheels of Western democracies might have become too jammed to make progress on any issue of substance, whether inequality or some other persistent problem.
But this answer is also unsatisfying. The rich world has seen big policy shifts over the past decade. Last year America’s government managed to make a sweeping change to taxes—one that tilts the distribution of income even more in favour of the rich. And in a recent study of European politics, Derek Epp and Enrico Borghetto find that political agendas in Europe have become less focused on redistribution even as inequality has risen. Though both inequality and public concern about it are increasing, politicians seem less interested in grappling with the problem.
Mr Epp and Mr Borghetto think another possible explanation should be considered. Rather than straightforwardly increasing pressure on politicians to do something about skewed income distributions, they suggest, rising inequality might instead boost the power of the rich, thus enabling them to counter the popular will. Research in political science gives substance to the impression that America’s rich wield outsize influence. An examination of the political preferences of those with $40m or more in net worth by Benjamin Page, Larry Bartels and Jason Seawright found that they overwhelmingly favour cutting spending on major social-safety-net programmes. (The general public wants it increased.) They are also more politically engaged than typical Americans: much more likely to have regular personal contact with elected officials, for example, and to give money to political campaigns. An analysis of campaign donations by Lee Drutman found that fewer than 30,000 people account for a quarter of all national political donations from individuals and for more than 80% of the money raised by political parties.
The relation between concentrated wealth and the political power of the rich is scarcely limited to political spending, or to America. The rich have many means to shape public opinion: financing nominally apolitical think-tanks, for instance, or buying media outlets. Although their power may sometimes be used to influence the result of a particular vote, it is often deployed more subtly, to shape public narratives about which problems deserve attention. Mr Epp and Mr Borghetto analysed bills brought before the parliaments of nine European countries between 1941 and 2014. Rising inequality, they found, is associated with political agendas more focused on matters related to “social order”, such as crime and immigration. Issues such as economic justice are crowded out. They attribute this to the “negative agenda power” of the rich. As their wealth increases, they have a greater ability to press politicians to emphasise some topics rather than others.
A rising tide lifts all votes
The evidence that concentrated wealth contributes to concentrated power is troubling. It suggests that reducing inequality becomes less likely even as it becomes more urgent. It implies that a vicious cycle of rising inequality may be developing, with a loss of democratic accountability as a nasty side-effect. Some social scientists argue that this is, indeed, the way of things. In “The Great Leveler”, published last year, Walter Scheidel writes that, across human history, inequality inevitably rises until checked by disasters like wars or revolutions.
This is excessively pessimistic. The rich are powerful, but not all-powerful, or uniform in their determination to keep distributional policies off the agenda. And Western democracies still function. If political leaders tried it, they might well find that redistribution is a winner at the ballot box.
An excellent book came out about ten years ago: John Field's 'Listening in the language classroom':
This book challenges the orthodox approach to the teaching of second language listening, which is based upon the asking and answering of comprehension questions. The book's central argument is that a preoccupation with the notion of 'comprehension' has led teachers to focus upon the product of listening, in the form of answers to questions, ignoring the listening process itself.
The student mental health crisis shows no sign of abating: in the year to July 2017 alone, 95 students killed themselves, and many reportimpossibly threadbare services and overworked staff unable to help. One recent study also found that the UK student suicide rate had risen by 56% in 10 years – a clear sign that something needs to be done.
It’s therefore shocking news that universities including Hull, Wolverhampton and Essex are outsourcing mental health services, referring students not to trained, on-campus mental health professionals but to (already comically stretched) NHS pathways. Most noticeable in this shift is the total rebrand of mental health services – which are now, in many universities, simply referred to as “wellbeing services”. Counsellors are being asked to reapply for their jobs, now titled “wellbeing practitioners”, and a focus is being placed on “healthy eating, mindfulness, and stress-relieving activities such as yoga, meditation and campus walks”.
It’s indicative of a wider social trend, with “wellbeing” encroaching not just on our educational institutions (including schools), but also slowly creeping into the workplace. “Employee wellbeing programmes” are now ubiquitous, with workers regularly offered benefits such as yoga, gym subscriptions and subsidised fruit for breakfast.
At first glance, these programmes seem appealing – who doesn’t want a free banana when they get to the office? But for those experiencing severe or chronic mental health problems, such initiatives are not just ineffective but also profoundly insulting, failing to meaningfully engage in any of the realities of mental illness at all. If you’re so depressed you’re finding it hard to go to work, for example, you don’t need a smoothie or a free flat white: you need structured support from mental health professionals and paid time off. Some companies do offer paid-for therapeutic support. But most do not, using the vague and foggy “wellbeing” umbrella to mask what essentially amounts to a glorified set of employee perks.
It’s easy to see why such programmes are so popular, at least from the perspective of an employer. Engaging in any other kind of reform, after all, would require institutions to acknowledge that many mental health problems are rooted in the very structures themselves. Of course a company is more likely to offer you a free FitBit than they are to modify sick leave policies or adjust their line on overtime – one requires spending a bit of money on some technology, the other fundamentally overhauling the way we think about work. One requires workers themselves to be responsible for their mental health; the other requires structural support that simply does not exist.
It’s also telling that much writing on the topic focuses on “workplace performance”: one Acasreport notes that improved wellbeing programmes will result in “improved workplace performance ... in profitability, labour productivity, and the quality of outputs or services”. Here, poor employee mental health is not treated with the humanity or dignity it requires; instead, it’s seen as a barrier to profit, a person as a simple unit of value in a wider, uncaring machine.
This is warped. When Josh Hall, writing for the Baffler, described such programmes as “emblematic of the debasement of so many of our basic human instincts”, he wasn’t being hyperbolic: despite acting as a superficial nod towards genuine mental wellbeing, “wellbeing” as currently used by employers and institutions is functionally useless.
By focusing on mindfulness and yoga, on free fruit and campus walks, universities and workplaces are both ignoring the parts of work that make us sick and devolving responsibility to the mentally ill themselves, excusing themselves from making further investment, material or otherwise. It’s a nice buzzword. But dig deeper and it’s easy to see that we’re simply being sold a lie that genuine wellbeing is within our grasp, if only we try hard enough.
Emily Reynolds is a freelance journalist and author
Do spectator sports have an inherent value, bonding communities, giving people the sense of being part of something larger than themselves, and providing a diversion from the woes of the world? Or, as Alex Jones suggests, does following sports teams dull the mind, waste the taxpayers' money and distract attention from issues that genuinely DO affect people's lives? Are Sports the True Opiate of the Masses? - YouTube
Are we just enslaved?
Here Jason Christoff describes the ancient and occult use of sports in regards to how the elite rule the masses. Sport is popular because it holds extreme benefit for the ruling elite and this is why the elite support sports, with no expense spared. Jason Christoff - How The Elite Use Sports To Rule The Masses - YouTube
It's sport and politics:
Tell me the Truth about Sports
Dominic Hobson: Sport is a Zero Sum Game
Writer and entrepreneur Dominic Hobson argues that organised, competitive sport damages - rather than builds - the character of players and spectators alike. In common with war, Dominic condemns it as a zero sum game: what one side gains, the other loses: "Rich in triumphalism, disdain and pride". "I still recoil in horror from the behaviour of the parents, let alone the players, when my oldest son played for a youth football team in south London," he says.
Orwell: "Serious sport has nothing to do with fair play. It is bound up with hatred, jealousy, boastfulness, disregard of all rules and sadistic pleasure in witnessing violence."
prolefeed: the steady stream of mindless entertainment to distract and occupy the masses