Political oxymorons are the new black. "Libertarian paternalism" under Richard Thaler and Cass Sunstein, now "progressive conservatism" under Phillip Blond. I had trouble with the first and am having even more trouble with the second. Renewed inventiveness in the face of crisis? The telltale signs of ideological bankruptcy—or vote-seeking fancy dress?
Don't get me wrong, Demos, where Blond is now based, has always been the place where easy oppositions were explored and ultimately dismantled; where intuition was tested and then often shown to be incorrect and a hindrance to creativity and progress. So, it isn't surprising that the Conservatives' current attempt at disguise should pique Demos's curiosity and set an appetising challenge. However, I suggest that Red Toryism is an oxymoron best left alone. Not simply because the terms are incompatible, or the goal unattainable, but because calling the end product anything approximating progress simply strikes me as wrong.
Most of the criticism around Blond's material—and subsequently Cameron's use of it— has been about whether his counterintuitive synthesis is attainable. Richard Reeves's answer to Polly Toynbee's chastising post on the Demos website was that Demos wasn't interested in making the concept credible, but in "making [it] happen."
My enjoyment of repartee notwithstanding, my reaction is one of incredulity. Achievability aside, is this what we want? Is our main objection to the Conservatives that theirs is but a convenient opposition chimera? My problem with progressive conservatism is not whether we can make it happen, it's whether we really want to buy into such a distorted notion of progress. To paraphrase the good old Housemartins: if this is progress—they must be joking!
Those who accuse "progressive conservatives" (such as they are) of being Thatcherites in disguise have it wrong—Thatcherism was far more revolutionary than that. What we have here is a tried and tested form of paternalism that thrives under the conditions of "organic conservatism" outlined and called for by Blond. The "Con" here is to introduce the illusion of contradiction while smuggling in a notion of progress that would sit very well with 18th century industrialists. It might have been progress once, but forgive me for pointing out that progress, by its very nature, can rapidly become outdated—if not outright conservative.
The proposals Blond puts forward positively reek of nostalgia—a nostalgia for a united working class, for a form of community and solidarity the springs of which were swept aside by the welfare state. Good riddance, I say. This kind of solidarity (to which some hark back from the relative safety of the current political acquis) was the product of fear, destitution, powerlessness. And while the welfare state has indeed generated perverse effects, the "philosophy of entitlement," as Blond puts it, isn't one of them. What should people feel? Deserving? There is no question that the left needs to think hard about the kind of solidarity we desperately need, but a return to the solidarity born of dire necessity isn't the answer.
The whole point of the welfare state is to create the sort of entitlement that allows individuals to feel secure enough to thrive. The aim was—to make a brazenly left-wing point—"decommodification." Not an elegant word, granted, but a very precise one that entailed the emancipation, as much as possible, of the individual from the forces of the market. Our current economic situation may lead to questioning whether this has been achieved, but the fact is that regardless of the scale of the crisis we're in, what is shielding many from outright poverty is precisely the existence, and ethos, of the welfare state.
Much of the progressive conservative argument seems to take advantage of a period in which fear and uncertainty will allow for psychological retrenchment to a halcyon past. A distorted version of civic republicanism with its organic solidarity and reassuring blanket of civic duties is just the job to bamboozle us. But reread your Rousseau folks—civic republicanism is a transcendent project about emancipation, not subjugation to frightened little communities, the likes of which Rousseau abhorred. All this talk of "remoralising" markets, "relocalising communities," and "recapitalising the poor," has the tin sound of too much loose change in a Victorian coat pocket.
Demos is asking the right questions—and courageously so. But we have to come up with the right answers.
