I think most people would quake if they thought for a moment about David Blunkett ruling the world. So would I. I’d rather have the late Harry Secombe in such a role—at least he’d make people laugh.
The idea has its appeal, of course. Who hasn’t felt at one point that they’d like to be a benevolent dictator? But as I discovered during eight years in the cabinet—and seven years leading the city of Sheffield—this would not be a good idea. So my own take on ruling the world would be pro citizenship and political involvement, but anti formal structures of political power.
Don’t get me wrong. I’ve not suddenly turned into an anarchist, libertarian or Marxist; nor have I converted to the Big Society vision of the withering away of the state. What I’m concerned about is how men and women across the world have been disenfranchised; how they have often become the tools of, rather than the counterweight to, inherited privilege and global financial power. All too often in my own Sheffield, Brightside and Hillsborough constituency, I come across those who have borne the brunt of the financial crisis and subsequent recession, and who are now on the front line of the deficit reduction programme. These people do not have inherited wealth or access to the national media to plead their case. Their only hope lies in their elected representatives.
What can be done? As the Arab spring has shown, the people do speak up for themselves—not only spontaneously, but often with the dedication of those already deeply engaged, as seen in the 2005 demonstrations at the Gleneagles G8 meeting.
But to really influence our leaders, we need more than occasional swells of popular opinion. People must understand their own potential as consumers, as well as active citizens. Only when people are fully politically literate—knowing where power lies, how institutions work, who decides what on both a global and local level—is it possible to gain momentum through the old adage “think global, act local.” The 1980s boycotts of South African products were a good example of the type of “active citizenship” I’m talking about. For it to work on a grand scale, every child must not only be able to read, write and add up, but to understand the world around them.
How do we give them this? For a start, we must inculcate active citizenship values in every community, from schooling upwards. We have come some of the way already. As education and employment secretary, I added citizenship and democracy into the secondary school curriculum in England and Wales. Labour’s introduction of citizenship courses (as well as language) for aspiring British nationals placed emphasis on an understanding of the world and, for good or ill, the institutions we rely on.
But we must go further. We need a global campaign for political literacy. Particularly in the wake of the recent uprisings, we must press non-democratic states to include civics or citizenship in their education programme, using the influence of aid, trade and, yes, military support as levers to make this happen. Above all, we must practise what we preach. We must ensure that Britain doesn’t sink once more into being one of the least politically literate countries in Europe (a problem highlighted by the Crick Report in the late 1990s) and that the Big Society is replaced by an “active society” of the future.
I have seen countless examples of “active citizens”—those willing to engage with and improve the lives of others—in Sheffield. One constituent, Gloria Stewart, having suffered considerable ill health, decided not to wait for someone else to do something about the loneliness people experience at Christmas. Instead she got stuck in, persuaded businesses and volunteers to help, and last year provided Christmas lunch for over 280 people. Such generosity and selflessness are precisely the values that we should be encouraging.
We still need leaders, of course. But if we make active citizenship our priority, the politicians who emerge would have an informed and engaged public behind them. Citizens and their leaders would share the great dilemmas of the future, and be able to work through genuine difficulties. All of these things are a prerequisite for a civilised and civilising society.
So if I ruled the world, when people abused politicians and said “someone should do something about this,” the answer would be: “Yes—and what is it that you are going to do?”