Tensile politics for tense times: 5 political tensions we shouldn’t try to resolve

Many people who dislike current political and economic institutions have a tendency to decide they know the solution to the problem. In the past I have also tried to work out the real way to bring change, the essence of true radicalism.

The alternative to ‘real radicalism’ seemed to me to be the ‘pragmatism’ of people whose politics appeared terminally compromised by, for instance, their acceptance of roles within certain institutions.

Here I want to make a plea for neither ‘idealism’ nor ‘pragmatism’, but for something different. We should recognise that there exists no ‘real radicalism’, or if it does exist we can’t know it for sure until after the fact of radical change. But once we accept that we don’t know all the answers we shouldn’t jump towards ‘pragmatism': the pragmatists also think they know the real route to change. They don’t really know either.

I understand the argument that once the structure of society is understood it seems necessary to break it entirely. And I understand the argument that working within acceptable political paths brings certain types of change more quickly. I try to bracket both these lines of thinking, accepting both and not mistaking either for ‘truth’.

Instead of choosing one or the other we should live on our feet. Rather than resolving contradictions between different methods we should actively seek to keep the tensions alive – because at this point who really knows from which direction change will come? Rather than plotting the ‘true’ path to change we should accept diversity of efforts and reject the idea that we – or anyone else – have found the ‘right’ way forward.

There are always moments when people commit to one particular method of change in order to create the critical mass necessary. But when that moment comes it will likely emerge organically, not because it is the ‘right’ way. In the meantime, even if feels a bit uncomfortable sometimes, let’s try to sustain tensions:

1. Between positive or negative politics. Should we unite around what we hate or what we agree on? Yes.

2. Between working inside or outside institutions. Should we use existing institutions to bring change or ignore them in favour of building our own social models? Yes.

3. Between voting or not voting, engaging in current political games or not. Should we take part in a discredited political system or try to bring about its downfall? Yes.

4. Between confrontation and building bridges. Should we seek to bring conflicts in society out into the open or try to unite people of disparate interests? Yes.

5. Between revolution or reform. Should we try to change everything or try to create incremental improvements in people’s lives? Yes.

The difficulty of adopting this kind of thinking is that you can be attacked from both sides. The moderates will pick on your ‘radicalism’, the radicals will pick on your ‘reformism’. Since none of them have – in my lifetime at least – brought about a better world, I try not to take any of the critics too seriously.

What’s this liberal doing in my head? And what does it mean by a ‘free’ society?

Freedom in the US recently: management fails to achieve full complicity in NATO crimes

This post is one in a series about being a ‘liberal’, an admittedly vague term I use to refer to left-leaning, moderately-inclined people who think it worth fighting for a fairer world and who largely accept existing institutions as the appropriate channel for change.

It’s common to refer to the societies of rich Western countries as being ‘free’. A lot of people will hastily qualify this. We are, they say, relatively free. We can’t protest anywhere or anyhow we want, but we can protest. We can’t get our opinions on the BBC but we can at least hold our opinions without being arrested.

And of course, admits the liberal in your head, we all have constraints on us. For instance physics, or wealth, or the lack of it. So there are limits. But ultimately the government does not force us to hold or express certain views and we will not be punished for our political beliefs.

Mmmm, yes. And no. Sometimes things are neither one thing nor another. We are, in Western societies, rarely whipped into believing something, but does that equal freedom? We are, for instance, managed. We’re actually managed quite a lot. Let’s start with your boss. You can argue with them to some extent, but they also have the power to sack you if you argue too much.

Maybe that seems obvious. What’s a bit less obvious is that we are managed by many more people than just our bosses. The process of government, being only briefly interrupted by ballots, is a process of management. PR is a form of management of your opinions. Big media is management of what you consume – think of all those people sitting around in offices deciding what you will consume in your paper.

But even less obviously, I would also say we are managed by a whole array of professionals. Architects manage our personal and work space. Planners manage our public space. ‘Creative industry’ professionals manage what we consume, from the theatre to the television. Psychologists manage our perceptions of abberant behaviour (no-one has adequately explained to me why lack of confidence is a frequently-treated pathology while the far more damaging overconfidence is not). Social workers manage our families if we fail to hit the mark. Charities manage our altruism.

Some might argue that the good intentions of the professionals absolve them from looking like authoritarians. But well intentioned control freak parents are still control freak parents. Good intentions in themselves don’t count for much in my book, particularly when they take place in the context of very unbalanced power relations.

Perhaps, in the end, you think that all of this management, because it is not directed at you personally, because you stay out of the arenas where it is strongest, does not affect you much. Perhaps the architects you live with are long dead and the social worker never visits you. But in the unlikely event that you are immune to everything professionals say you are surrounded by people who are not. We are social beings and our social world is distorted by a vast weight of top-down management across all of society.

Meanwhile let’s go back to the obvious management: your boss. What they ostensibly manage is your technical performance and yet you likely will have noticed that the most incompetent people often get promoted first. It happens so often it’s almost like it isn’t a coincidence. Almost like, say, people are promoted for having particular personality attributes, particular ways of behaving, almost like people are rewarded by management for conformity to their viewpoint. And what is the combined effect of that happening across all of society? It’s difficult to measure but I don’t think it is small.

It’s easy not to think too much about the effect on us of all this management, particularly if you feel that you benefit from it – you may be on a management wage yourself. Perhaps you believe your personality overcomes society. Perhaps you are a superhuman, immune to social pressure. Or perhaps there’s a liberal in your head, and it loves pretending to be free. If so, try to gently introduce it to words and ideas between the two poles of ‘free’ and ‘oppressed’. Perhaps one day it will even be grateful for having learned language to describe its situation.

Kicking John Stuart Mill

Asking for it

No one can argue against the idea of freedom of speech. John Stuart Mill put forward the most famous defence of it and the truth of his case is now widely accepted, at least in the civilised places of the world. When I read Mill when I was younger his arguments seemed so much like common sense that I wondered he had even had to make them.

A few years ago I was working – for reasons that now seem as naïve as my appreciation of Mill – in the UK government’s Department for International Development. It was a merry place full of well-intentioned liberals who were for the most part quite genuinely committed to ending poverty across the world.

I soon began to notice that, while certain criticisms of the Department were acceptable, others were not. Questioning the efficacy of certain methods was fine – welcomed in fact. But questioning the rule of profit, trade and efficiency, and questioning the power relations between Department staff and poor people was entirely beyond the bounds of reasonable criticism.

I tried to talk about these things for a while but in the end I shut up. It wasn’t that I didn’t hold to my criticisms any more, but I discovered that the more I voiced them, the more I got pigeonholed as some kind of crank, or worse, useless to their cause. I stopped saying what I thought in meetings. I knew that if I did speak, any attempt to get a permanent job would be ruined. When I stopped caring about that – who the hell would want a job there? – I still said nothing. There seemed no gain to anyone from establishing myself as a useless weirdo.

That was when I went back to the past in a time machine, found John Stuart Mill, and dragged him forward to the future, just so that I could give him a hearty kick up the arse. ‘I didn’t want freedom of speech,’ I told him. ‘I wanted freedom to speak. An abstract freedom does nothing for my dignity if eight hours a day, five days a week I can’t practice it. Freedom of speech is nothing but a bad joke if the economic power of my managers renders them deaf.’

Then I began to notice that in the Department, so committed to the poor people of the world, no one gave much thought to the fact that they, a professional class of people extending across NGOs and government departments across the world, had granted to themselves a vast amount of decision-making power over how aid and development was done. It never seemed to occur to them that every decision they made was a decision that poor people could not make for themselves. Of course they admitted they got the decisions wrong sometimes, but they could always try again, there would always be another chance to be effective.

It seemed to me that the managerialism of the Department was a microcosm of a greater managerialism: the wealthy countries managing the poor countries and we, the wealthy, managing the poor. The roles we all played in this vast managerial empire could not be questioned. My freedom of speech – such as it was – meant far more than the freedom of speech of a poor person, and that was fine with the Department, even though the poor had much more at stake. The trick was simply for us all to play our roles as well as possible.

This made me, I’m afraid, quite irate, and I grabbed John Stuart Mill, who I had refused to return to his own time, and kicked him up the arse not once but several times. ‘We didn’t need freedom to speak,’ I said to him as I kicked. ‘We needed the power to speak. We needed to break out of the managerial regimes we were taught to regard as ‘natural’. We didn’t want to be supplicants asking favours of the elite, we wanted to speak as equals.’ I then put John Stuart Mill on a leash and tied him to a stake in my garden. I had a feeling I was going to need him again.

Soon I noticed that the professionals of the development industry were very keen on something called ‘voice’. The voices of the poor should be listened to if development was to be a success. This seems very laudable, unless you have already noted the power relations of the managerial regime, and so you become suspicious.

What is this ‘voice’ they mean? How does it fit in to the development industry? And you find that it means surveys, questionnaires, occasional interviews with poor people. These can then be summarised – with the more extreme views filtered out of course – and fitted into a report to come back to the Department. This will then be added as an annex to another report that doesn’t pay any attention to the mild conclusions of its own annex.

I began to realise that any time someone talks about ‘voice’, it means they intend to keep the powerless powerless. While the ‘voice’ of the poor floats through the corridors of power, the poor have to get on with their lives. As the ‘voice’ of the poor goes into the NGO newsletter – discreetly edited of course, since the donors wouldn’t understand the complexities of the project – the poor have to do things in order to live. Usually, and in the long run, it is their own actions that will create better lives for poor. Meanwhile in the Department the poor had become passive bodies, recipients of our help. The talk was of how our actions could save the poor.

So I went out to the garden to see John Stuart Mill again. This time I gave him a damn good thrashing. ‘The power to speak is not enough,’ I said to him. ‘I realise now that speaking won’t put food on anyone’s table. We needed the power to act. That means political power. You talked so much of liberty and freedom but you always assumed that the political structures of the elite were the right place for politics to happen. You assumed that if the people did have politics, it would be processed through the institutions of the elite and so find expression. But the elite have their own politics, their own desires to enact, and so our own desires and actions become swallowed by theirs.’

I don’t work in the development industry any more. Two days before leaving the Department for International Development I vented my frustration at the months of silence by telling a lot of the staff exactly what I thought of the place. It’s true I didn’t get locked up for doing that but it didn’t make a damn bit of difference either, except for ending any chance that I could work in development again. Everyone knows everyone you see, and they all know the kinds of things you should and should not say.

No one can argue against the idea of freedom of speech. Except, that is, for criticising the word ‘freedom’, the word ‘of’ and the word ‘speech’. No one can argue against the idea of freedom of speech, except to say that it is not the power to act. If you do not have the power to act then freedom of speech becomes subsumed into the control techiques of those who do have the power, if you do have the power, freedom of speech is a triviality.

I still keep John Stuart Mill in the present, locked in my basement. Every now and then I go down and give him a good kicking on general principles. I suppose he suffers a bit but no one could call me a cruel man. I always allow him to say whatever he wants to me, however hard I’m kicking him.

A brief summary of the political and media reaction to rioting and looting

The GOOD citizens cleaning up their community

This nation has witnessed, in shock and disbelief, the most horrible crimes upon its streets, but we are not going to talk about racist police harassment because that is not the point here; what we are going to talk about it, and we are going to talk about it good and hard, is the UNSPEAKABLE BEHAVIOUR of young people on our streets, rioting and looting before our eyes with no sense of RESPONSIBILITY. Never before have we been presented with such a FAILURE OF MORALS, obviously a consequence of FAILURES IN PARENTING – or at least, not since the Iraq War and the expenses scandal, and they all had GOOD parents so it WASN’T THE SAME.

These feral beasts, these rats in human form, have perpetrated upon UPSTANDING MEMBERS OF THE COMMUNITY atrocious outrages. These people have no morals at all, not even the white ones. They are like savages, even the white ones (see, no racism here!). They have no notion of responsibility to their communities – and it is NOT THE POINT that they have no communities. They have no notion of working hard – and it is NOT THE POINT that there are no jobs. The POINT is that they have been raised in a culture of entitlement, corrupted by benefits culture and probably rap music – even the white ones – and now they expect everything to be handed to them on a platter even though it is only Cameron and Osborne who are actually used to that. They have no politics, no morals, no desires except to TAKE TAKE TAKE, and if that sounds like what we have promoted for forty years then you are stupid to think we were ever talking to THEM.

What we need now is to crack down as hard as we can and give these kids the DISCIPLINE they have always lacked – and if they lacked love or respect that’s just tough because DISCIPLINE is what they will get now. We will teach them to RESPECT OUR AUTHORITAH! It would be absurd, insulting even, to expect US to respect THEM, dangerous little savages that they are, so we must make them respect us – it’s going to have to go one way at least if we are to DEFEND OUR CIVILISATION. And if that means calling in the army then so be it, these crazed THUGS must understand that they CANNOT GET AWAY WITH VIOLENCE and if that means bringing in plastic bullets, water cannons and the stocks to deal with these monstrous children then that is what we must do. We must find the final solution to this menace of immorality within!

This is what you get from years or socialism and liberalism and you may have looked at the people with power in media and politics and thought we are neither socialist nor liberal, and you may have noticed that riots follow in the footsteps of poverty not the footsteps of liberals, but THAT DOESN’T MEAN THE SOCIALISTS AND LIBERALS AREN’T TO BLAME. We must strip these people of benefits and homes and that will definitely stop them stealing and roaming the streets acting all threatening towards TRUE CITIZENS. And if you still see them roaming the streets, REPORT THEM TO THE POLICE, because there is NO REASON for them to be on the streets at all when they could be getting jobs that don’t exist and it is good to see the courts working on making it an OFFENCE to be in the WRONG PLACE.

Let it never be said again in Britain, this GREAT country of ours, that THUGS took what they wanted just BECAUSE THEY COULD. That is the job of the politicians stealing the NHS from you just BECAUSE THEY CAN. We must be absolutely clear that there are consequences to crime, at least if you are POOR. Certain people must TAKE RESPONSIBILITY for what they have done – not us of course. These kids show that our SOCIETY IS SICK and if there are obvious people to blame for our SICK SOCIETY it is fourteen-year-old kids who play no part in our society and aren’t we all glad we didn’t let them now? We therefore call upon the police, our fine, upstanding police, to take a FIRMER HAND with these teenage monsters who KNOW NO RESPECT. We demand that the police use ALL NECESSARY FORCE to keep them away from us and protect us from their MINDLESS BESTIALITY.

Not every being with a human face is human

– Carl Schmitt, President of the Union of National-Socialist Jurists, 1933

5 Reasons Why Good Intentions Don’t Count

Every time you believe in your good intentions Bono gets a little piece of your soul

1. If you’ve ever opened a crap present, and someone says ‘It’s the thought that counts’ and you secretly thought ‘No it isn’t! I’d much rather have a good present!’ then you know we should be suspicious of good intentions. Good intentions have crap effects. Often.

2. Your good intentions frequently serve the purpose of making you feel good. By having good intentions the point you have established – beyond any doubt whatsover – is that you are the sort of person who has good intentions. Well, you’ve established it in your mind anyway. But let’s be honest, most people have good intentions in some way or other. They’re really nothing special. Sorry.

3. Look, I know this is scraping through the bottom of the barrel of rhetoric before I’ve even got to point five but I’m going to say it anyway: Hitler probably had good intentions. In fact, no probably about it. He wanted to elevate his people and give them better lives. You aren’t Hitler (Yet – careful now!) but do you really feel sure there are no dodgy ideas and perceptions in your mind distorting your thinking?

4. The structures within which you live and operate will twist your intentions to their own ends. They always do. You can’t ever entirely calculate the effects of your actions, even when you’ve done them. But that’s no excuse for charging ahead borne along purely on the conviction that your intentions are good so it must be worth doing. We should at least try to take account of how our intentions will be interpreted, used, and distorted.

5. Good intentions without thinking through the context in which you perform them, without attempting to work out the reason for the failures that have gone before you, without wondering what the price of failure would be, are lazy as well as egotistical. It’s not that good intentions don’t count at all, it’s that good intentions alone don’t count. Stop being so fucking lazy. (If you are not lazy and not convinced of the inherent worth of your good intentions please forgive this minor rudeness – it was well-intentioned.)

What’s this liberal doing in my head? The problem of ‘illegitimate’ protesters

Riding bronze horses is illegitimate for sure

This is the first in series about the ‘liberal’ mindset, an admittedly vague term I use to refer to left-leaning, moderately-inclined people who think it worth fighting for a fairer world and who largely accept existing institutions as the appropriate channel for change.

In the wake of recent protests, and through the pre-emptive arrests for the royal wedding, the government and police have made it clear recently that only ‘legitimate’ protesters are protected by our ‘right’ to protest. I would expect them to make this distinction but it seems crazy for protesters to adopt it too. I’ve seen too many rants online and in newspapers against the ‘aggressive’ protesters who spoil things for all the peaceful protesters. This should be a debate about tactics but many people turn it into a debate about morals (I posted on this recently) and worse, happily adopt the term ‘illegitimate’ protester. If you’ve been using the term, even implicitly, you need to start questioning what the crazy liberal in your head is making you do.

This legitimate/illegitimate distinction comes to us from those currently in power. What ‘legitimate’ largely means is protesters willing to comply with the antiprotest laws of recent years and protesters who will not cause any trouble. About fifteen years ago we had far fewer anti-protest laws on the books (Do you remember those crazy days? It was barely safe to leave the house. It was anarchy. Thank you lords and masters for legislating for that problem). The distinction between legitimate and illegitimate protesters could still be made – ‘peaceful’ protest as ‘legitimate’ is an oldie and a goodie – but the laws have made it much easier. Now if you haven’t consulted the police about where and when you will protest, it is illegitimate. Hence the police could comfortably claim that those in Trafalgar Square who were violently dispersed by police on 26th March weren’t ‘real protesters’.

As an aside, many people, establishment figures and good liberals, have recently attempted to describe the recent Egyptian protests as ‘peaceful’, which obviously helped to legitimise them in their eyes. Though the Egyptian people didn’t start a war it is absurd to describe the protests as peaceful. Talking to people in Egypt when I was on holiday there I realised that many people didn’t protest against Mubarak primarily: they went out on the streets to fight the police. They went out to oppose the arbitrary and abusive powers that had ruined their lives for decades. They burned down the police stations that Mubarak’s security services operated from. They confronted police lines and fought through tear gas to push the police back. Many protesters (close to 700) were killed, but finally, with the military largely standing aside, they won. It was to a large degree a physical fight and anyone who says otherwise is ignoring the facts.

Ah but things aren’t as bad here, is the stock response to this. Yes, this is a good one. Things aren’t as bad here. We don’t need to oppose our government with force, say the moderate liberals. That’s just too extreme when they aren’t locking us up and torturing us. This misses the point spectacularly and it misses it in a way very particular to the liberal mindset. The biggest problem, the defining problem I would say, of the socially liberal worldview is a failure to recognise and understand power.

Protest is the action of the relatively powerless against those who have much power. It is not, I’ve always thought, a particularly good way to exercise power – it lacks finesse and often direction – but when a corrupt system robs you of power, it is one of the few avenues to express power left to you. The advantage of street protest is that all it requires is numbers to make it effective. Enough people to disrupt the narrative, enough people to raise a dissenting voice, enough people to make it clear that the consensus is broken. What should matter then, in terms of tactics, is the ability of the protest to disrupt the abusive status quo, and not the severity of the abuse of power fought.

I can kind of see the argument for saying that protest should be ‘proportionate’ to the level of abuse, but I’m not comfortable with it because what do you calibrate your scale against – Nazism? Pol Pot? Relative to those things we’re all doing fine and should just go home. But in recognition of this argument, if you do think that the level of the abuse matters, if you do view the number of deaths caused by the government as the scale against which you should match your protest level, then please do examine the current plans for dismantling and privatising the NHS, and the cuts to the NHS they said they wouldn’t make. Standards of care will fall and as a result people will die.

There’s your death count for you, and you can add plenty to it for the benefits cuts, but that’s not why you should reject the distinction between legitimate and illegitimate protesters. You should reject it because if you adopt the definitions of those in power, you’ve already lost.

Again this is about people refusing to think about the problem in terms of power. These words, legitimate, illegitimate, were carefully chosen to help entrench those with power in their positions. If you allow them to label certain protesters legitimate and others illegitimate it should be clear that they will seek to attach the label ‘legitimate’ to those who don’t bother them too much and ‘illegitimate’ to those who do bother them. Since the purpose of protest is to bother those in power, surely only a mad person would accept the labels offered. It is a recipe for failure.

The purpose of protest is to disrupt and confront. Those who engage in protest seek to express their desires when few other options are available to them. There is no legitimate or illegitimate protest, only protest you agree or disagree with, only protest that works or doesn’t. Yes, within any group some person may commit a foolish act, like throwing a fire extinguisher off a roof too close to people on the ground. Some may even engage in violence for the pleasure of hurting other people. Those people can and should be judged on their own actions. To attach labels to whole groups on the basis of those people is the logic of collective punishment.

There is no legitimate or illegitimate protest, only effective and ineffective protest. If you keep listening to the liberal in your head then you’ve chosen the latter. You should perhaps be asking why the liberal in your head is telling you these things. It frames the game in a way that ensures you lose. Where did your liberal ideas come from then, and who do they serve?

Perhaps its time to have a stern talk with the liberal in your head. There’s nothing worse than having your own head stab you in the back.

What to say when people say… we’d have better wages and public services without immigration

We can live every day like this or we can change their skin to white but that won't change the fact you're paid £5.93 an hour

I usually try to write (slightly) funnier posts than this, but yesterday I read this article and I’ve been thinking about it, y’know, seriously. So I’m not going to do a funny post about how the English Defence League couldn’t organise a piss-up in a British brewery because they all drink shit foreign lagers. Instead there is just one point to make. I think it is the most important response to this line of argument. It’s not an argument that we be nicer to foreigners. It’s not a plea for us all to get along. It’s not a request for a society that looks like a Benetton advert because that will ‘make life more colourful’.

Here it is: The level of wages and the level of public services depends on who has the power in society. As a society we have the resources to pay better wages. We have the resources for better public services. We are, collectively, wealthier than most other societies around today and wealthier than any society at any time in history you care to name.

Better wages and better public services don’t happen because those people and institutions who hold most of the money don’t want to share it around. And they pay our politicians in order to stop it being spread around. Some of them are our politicians. And they are very happy for people to carry right on blaming immigrants.

If your wages are shit, if your hospital is shit, if your street lights don’t work, it’s because you don’t have the power to claim the resources that are available to solve all those problems. So take more power for yourself, and when you do, you’ll find it doesn’t make a bit of difference how much immigration there is, except in one sense: if you can join with immigrants to claim better wages or better public services your numbers will be boosted and you’ll find you have even more power.

The level of wages and the level of public services are not about the number of people in a country (otherwise the quality of life would be better in Belgium than in Spain and if you’ve been to Belgium you’ll know it isn’t) but about who has the power and who has the money. The liberal opponents of racism are uncomfortable talking about naked power and economics, partly because many of them are at the higher powered, more moneyed end of the spectrum. They respond to anti-immigrant rhetoric with descriptions of the economic benefits of immigration, or a plea for valuing difference. Bollocks to valuing difference – no-one who didn’t value it was ever convinced to start valuing it because a well-meaning person asked them to. Instead let’s value our own power. Rather than fighting over scraps against people who have less than us we should ensure we have control of the resources we all collectively create.

How to get to that position? There are no easy solutions, and it’s not going to fit into a blog post. But blaming immigrants is only playing the game of the people you really need to fight.

5 lifestyle tips for Guardian readers

1. Buy all the clothes and consumer electronics and cultural products you don’t need until you feel a bit of sick come up, then realise it has made no difference at all to the rest of the world. Turns out the Guardian was right to advertise all that shite. The Telegraph, The Daily Mail and the News of the World too, but they also hate gypsies, which the Guardian doesn’t. They just launched Guardian mobile after all – who is that for if not the gypsies?

2. Turn all the lights off in your house. Turn them on again. Turn them off again. Notice that the planet is still screwed. Secretly the Guardian editors know that changing your personal energy usage won’t save the world but they know a bit of self-denial makes you feel good so they’re helping you out.

3. Watch the latest film produced by a billion-dollar profit-making industry and have a serious discussion about it. Then have a serious discussion about the relative merits of Coke and Pepsi. Culture, like soft drinks, is something created by other people, including writers at the Guardian, which is why it needs to be read.

4. Go on an eco-holiday. By plane. You know you want to. And you know that with massive hidden subsidies to polluters it makes economic sense, just like it does for everyone else. The Guardian understands this – at least on some level, though they rarely come right out and say it – and that’s why you’ll find an eco-holiday in the Andaman Islands somewhere in the Environment section.

5. Find a job in a creative or altruistic industry in the Guardian jobs pages, commit to a political party that says things that vaguely fit with your ideals. Vote for them and argue for their relative lack of evilness at social events. Look at your bank account one day and thank yourself (and the editors and writers of the Guardian) for believing, on a deep, almost unconscious level, that the establishment works. With your help, and the Guardian’s, it will become better. The establishment that is, not your bank account.