Prospect readers will know from Stephen Eales's article in January that the funding of physics and astronomy in Britain is in a mess, writes Andrew King. But how can this be when most agree the government has done well by science, with funding at historically high levels and Britain's international reputation largely restored?
The root of the trouble was the forced marriage last year of two research councils—one responsible for funding "blue-skies" research in universities, the other for administering big government laboratories—to form the Science and Technology Facilities Council (STFC). Since it is easier to cut research grants than pull funding for big laborataries (which have fixed capital costs), it was inevitable that any give in the system would come from the former. And sure enough, the STFC plans cuts of 25 per cent to physics departments and has threatened to withdraw Britain from international astronomy projects such as the Gemini observatory.
Understandably, scientists are incensed: they point out that slashing university funding will limit Britain's ability to attract foreign scientists and, in the long term, reduce the number of physics graduates (which has been rising). The issue has been raised in parliament, and science minister Ian Pearson and government adviser Keith O'Nions (yes, really) recently faced a select committee grilling. Although physicists will be looking for more than fine words, an admission that the shotgun wedding that is the STFC should get a divorce would be a start.
Pakistan unites
At a time when secessionist movements are triumphing in places like Kosovo, the recent Pakistani election saw voters throughout the country reaffirm the fragile union of four very different provinces. Though they have different languages and are, in many ways, closer culturally to Afghanistan than Pakistan, voters in Balochistan and the North West Frontier Province (NWFP) resisted the call of Islamists advocating separation from the Pakistani union.
The big story of the national election was the terrible performance of Pakistan Muslim League-Q, the party allied to Musharraf and the army. But in Balochistan, PML-Q did surprisingly well. Why? The answer may be found in the effects of the violent tension between local separatists and the central government that had stricken the area since August 2006, when the army killed local separatist leader—and, some say, Taliban ally—Nawab Bugti. According to some analysts, PML-Q's success in Balochistan is a clear indicator of renewed local support for Pakistan's central institutions.
Meanwhile, in the election for the NWFP local assembly, the governing Islamists were routed, largely at the expense of the secular and anti-Taliban Awami National party.
Philosophy virgins
According to Cambridge student paper Varsity, fewer philosophy students are virgins (just 9 per cent) than those reading any other subject. Perhaps not surprisingly, mathematics (41 per cent) and computer science (38 per cent) boast the most unpopped cherries. Before dashing off to read Kant, however, bear in mind that this situation may invert the post-university dispensation. On the financial level playing field of university, an ability to quote Hobbes may prove irresistible. Later, though, the impecuniousness of the average philosopher surely compares unfavourably with the earning power of maths and computer graduates. Could it even be that those whose wallets are destined to bulge the most bide their time at college while philosophers cram in as much action as possible while they still can? Those wanting the best of both worlds should think of becoming medics, who as students are unusually promiscuous despite their rosy prospects.
Above: a worker wanders through the new Terminal 2 of Pudong Internatonal Airport in Shanghai. The terminal will be opened on March 26th.
Undeclared riches
Though it received little attention, Britain's per capita GDP recently overtook the US's. The average Briton's income of £23,500 is now £250 higher than the average American's. Why aren't we celebrating? Partly because Britain is still an expensive place compared to the US, and there's a fear that we're about to get poorer again. And partly because good news is just not the stuff of British newspaper headlines. It's worth recalling that the last time Britain's per capita GDP exceeded the US's was in 1890—the year when the story "Panic as Bank of England bails out Baring's over bad loans" dominated the news. Some things never change.
Even literary titans bleed when pricked. Staff at the London Review of Books have grown accustomed to receiving rueful emails from critic and Harvard professor (and LRB regular) James Wood (pictured, right) lamenting any negative reviews his books have received elsewhere. This practice has continued with his latest book, How Fiction Works—although it surely can't have escaped Wood's notice that two of the most critical reviews have been by fellow LRB writers Christopher Tayler and Thomas Jones. What will Wood make of Terry Eagleton's review in this issue?
Meanwhile, Martin Amis adopted a more directly retaliatory approach to being wounded in print. Prospect has learned that he recently subjected Johann Hari to a haranguing by telephone after the latter's combative interview with him appeared in the Independent. In the course of this tirade, Hari was told that Amis's old mucker Christopher Hitchens—something of a role model for Hari—was no fan of Hari's work either. That must have stung.
China gets funny
There are few things autocracies like less than being laughed at. Yet in the build-up to the Olympics, China's leaders have discovered that parts of their nation find them extremely funny—and there's not much they can do about it. At the heart of the mirth is a phenomenon known as egao, which literally means "to do an evil turn," and entails the satirical mauling of sacred cows. The "dancing" Olympic symbol has, for instance, been morphed by pranksters into a sign directing people to public toilets. By western standards, it's tame stuff, but while it remains almost impossible to publish such images in China's media, sarcastic dissent is rife on the internet. The official response has been to promise ever stricter regulations as part of what President Hu Jintao calls "strengthening the progressive socialist culture." With speechwriting like that, who needs satirists?
Writers for hire
Congratulations to poet Ruth Padel, who has just been appointed writer-in-residence at London's Somerset House. It confirms a growing trend in Britain for institutions of all types to avail themselves of writers. Others include Eton College (which employed poet Simon Armitage a few years ago) and the Flamin 8 Tattoo Parlour in Camden—as well as more than 100 prisons. As it becomes more difficult for writers to earn a living from their actual writings, it seems that opportunities for them to earn money from activities associated with writing are proliferating. Padel herself told Prospect that most of her fellow poets were unavailable for the Somerset House gig—because so many of them are already employed as creative writing professors at universities.
We may have become used to New Labour being relaxed about the filthy rich (see Jonathan Ford's piece in this issue), but it is surely another thing to be relaxed about the filthy rich getting richer still from taxpayer-funded handouts. But that, writes Jack Thurston, is the effect of the government's continued refusal to oppose any limit on the subsidies individuals can claim under the EU's common agricultural policy (CAP).
More than £2bn in farm subsidies is paid out in Britain each year. Half of this goes to the richest 10 per cent of recipients. The list of top claimants reads like a page of Burke's Peerage. The Duke of Westminster (pictured, right), worth an estimated £4.5bn, got £1.3m in subsidies in three years. The Duke of Bedford, the Marquess of Cholmondeley and Sir Richard Sutton are also high up. Prince Charles lags behind—but when he accedes to the throne he'll inherit the £546,000 a year currently going to his mum.
The reason for this blatantly unequal system is that under the perverse logic of the CAP, the bigger the farm, the bigger the subsidy. Now that you don't even have to grow anything to get a subsidy, big landowners can get paid for watching the grass grow. Or they can rent out their land to working (and unsubsidised) farmers while keeping the subsidy for themselves. In 2003 the European commission proposed a hard ceiling for subsidies of €300,000—but this was resisted by Britain and Germany, the two countries with the biggest proportion of large farms. This year the commission is proposing a more modest taper: let's hope it gets through this time around.
