Old whine in new battles?
I trace my amateur interest in psychology to a trick my parents used to play on me. When, as I fear was often, I was in a rebarbative mood one of them would say ‘oh dear, Matthew’s got a whine’. Then they would get me to stand still with my eyes closed while one of them pushed some tweezers into my open mouth. Then, as they commanded me to open my eyes, they would triumphantly wave a small white object which they had ‘found’ at the back of throat; this was ‘the whine’. It wasn’t until some time later that I realised this was a simple sleight of hand deploying one of my mother’s coffee sweeteners. But at the time it worked and I would immediately cheer up responding positively when mother would say ‘now then, up to your bedroom and back to work on the A levels’.
The work paid off and here I am at the RSA preparing to chair an event with one of the world’s leading public intellectuals, Steven Pinker, whose latest book ‘The better angels of our nature’ is subtitled ‘The decline of violence in history and its causes’. I know some people are a bit stuffy about Pinker (including, I have to admit, one of the aforementioned parents) but I think it’s a great book. As it’s over 700 pages long I planned to dip in to it selectively over the weekend but wherever I started I found it hard to stop reading.
On my way to Edinburgh to chair the RSA Scotland Angus Millar Lecture featuring Matt Ridley (a writer who shares Pinker’s optimistic world view), I got engrossed in the chapter on our inner demons. Pinker reminds his readers of what he calls the ‘moralisation gap’. This is the gap between the sympathetic, indeed self satisfied, way we perceive our own behaviour and the critical way we view behaviour (including exactly the same behaviour as our own) in others.
This got me to thinking about an issue I have raised in previous posts: how can we make groups of people – say, for example, a group of RSA Fellows meeting to discuss the possibility of a local initiative – work more effectively? A starting point is to think about some of the recurrent problems that can affect such groups. Here are three: people dominating the conversation, reacting badly when their view doesn’t prevail or not volunteering when it comes to the tasks necessary to take forward decisions made in the meeting.
According to the research, we are all likely to think we are less guilty of these failings than other people. So, how about a process in which the chair of the meeting explains to the participants that research has shown that these three failings (although it could be others) are the biggest dangers to a meeting and asks people to write down on a piece of paper how guilty they think they are of committing them on say a five point scale ranging from very (5) to not at all (1). Then the chair collects the bits of paper (which have been filled in anonymously) and makes a quick calculation. As most people will have written either ’1′ or ’2′, the chair can declare delightedly that the group is well above average. The hope then is that a combination of solidarity, self fulfilling prophesy and a raising of normative thresholds will lead everyone in the room to live up to their self perception.
The design isn’t perfect. It uses our narcissism but it doesn’t channel the energy of our critical tendencies. Maybe readers can think of cleverer ways of using the moralisation gap for the common good. Of course, some people might object that no one is that gullible. To them I cite a small boy standing in a kitchen in York with his mouth open. But to be fair to me (and I do tend to be just that) it was very stressful doing A levels at the age of six!
Thank you for the days?
To be honest, I am having a bit of a crisis of faith right now. It may have started when I was recently reminded of the massive internal Home Office study of prisoner rehabilitation schemes around the world. It found only one strong correlation; an inverse one between the rigor of a scheme’s evaluation and evidence of it performing significantly better than no scheme at all.
Adding to my frailty, I’ve also been to a couple of public sector events this week that – despite the best intentions and endeavours of the organisers – felt listless and dispirited (although at one this may have had something to do me using my five minutes to subject everyone to my own most pessimistic take on the world).
As regular readers will know, I am always going on about the need for civic innovation and about the possibility that public services can be redesigned so that they are more socially productive; in other words better at helping people meet their own and each other’s needs. The idea is that even when the market is depressed and public spending being cut we can still make life better.
The cloud of doubt hanging over me is whether it really is possible to generate and then scale useful social innovations without spending market money we haven’t got or needing state money which isn’t available.
Perhaps it is desperation which has led me to grab on to two ideas today. The first – which someone else told me about and which apparently already happens in another country – is clever and credible, the second – which is all mine – is whimsical and possibly plain silly.
Idea one isn’t anything to do with public services or civic efforts – it’s simply a way to make people a little better off. The idea is ‘compare the rate day’.
As we all know, the way lots of marketing works is to offer a great deal for the new customer and then gradually make this a worse deal relying on inertia to keep us paying. This is why many millions of people are paying more on their energy bills than they need to, more on their mortgages, more on their insurance bills and probably accepting bad deals on pensions and annuities. There are more and more comparison sites to try to encourage us to get better deals, and regulators have made it easier to swap, but still a combination of lack of time, lack of energy and confusion in the face of so much information stops us.
This is where ‘compare the rate day’ comes in. It is a single day backed by Government, the media and industry when we are all encouraged to look at the bills we are paying or benefits we are receiving in a major area, say energy. The focus on that day would be enough to dispel inertia. It would also encourage the press and various experts to provide accessible information so we would all have easy advice on how to get a better deal. As for industry, it would know it had to compete all out to keep or win empowered customers with a whole market to choose from (and that there would be much less to gain from trying then to exploit people as the day would happen all over again a year later).
The second idea came to me today as I carried a cake in a clear Tupperware box to a dear friend. As I travelled from Bond Street to Little Venice four different people made funny little comments to me. For example, as I fumbled for my Oyster Card, the lady at the ticket barrier at Paddington said ‘better not let me hold your cake dear. I might run off with it’.
So how about ‘say hi to stranger day’. This would go beyond simply encouraging people to be friendly to each other. That would rely too much on initiative and there is a danger that it is intrusive – what if you don’t really want to join in? That’s why the idea is that this is not only a day when we are urged to talk to strangers but also that we are encouraged to wear or carry something which provides a conversation point (by so doing indicating that we are up for a chat).
From today’s experience, it is clear that someone who carried a cake around on ‘say hi to strangers day’ would find themselves in almost constant cheerful badinage with the citizenry. But, then again, so would someone wearing a big flowery hat or a T shirt saying ‘I am not an innocent bystander’.
I have a horrible feeling that this is one of those blog posts which will deeply embarrass me when I look back on it, but for now, at least, I feel a bit more cheerful.
Mote or beam?
It was inevitable, I guess, that the Coalition Government would in time abandon any pretence that it would abolish the spin doctoring used by New Labour. The leaking of the Beecroft review of employment regulation is more evidence that all Governments need spin. I spoke to someone from Number Ten a few weeks ago who mentioned the review in passing saying that all the measures Mr Beecroft proposed were simply too ‘nasty-looking’ to take forward. Leaking the paper, presumably in some way to appease Conservatives demanding the Government repatriate various EU regulatory powers, is a classic spinning tactic; using the impression that something is being done as an alternative to actually doing anything.
Mr Beecroft’s suggestion that labour productivity would be improved by making it easier to sack coasting workers opens up issues relating to management, on the one hand, and the wider state of the labour market, on the other.
There is no question that unfair dismissal rules impose burdens on managers, but any manager who seriously claimed that these rules were the cause of poor productivity in their organisation would have to face to some searching questions. Putting aside the quality of their recruitment procedure, why, for example, had they not used the probationary period before employment rules kick in to identify workers who lacked the skills and drive needed? Second, given the importance of social norms and peer pressure, if a high proportion of staff is slacking with impunity, questions surely need to be asked about general staff motivation. Thirdly, while it can be time consuming and bureaucratic, it is possible to ease people out of organisations on grounds of under-performance so to have lots of weak workers implies poor performance management.
I suspect the consequences of making it easier to sack people would depend on the quality of management. Good managers would probably use the new freedom wisely just like a football coach would use increased transfer funds to improve their team. But mediocre managers – like failing football coaches – would simply churn their workforce as an alternative to the more important challenge of getting more out of the workers they have. The sad reality is there are probably of lot more examples of the latter quality of management than the former in the British economy.
The broader issue is this. Most political parties have at one time or another said that they want the UK to be a high skill, high wage, high productivity, economy. The recent reality has been the reverse. For most of the labour market real wages (take home pay adjusted for inflation) have been stagnant for a decade and are now falling faster than at any time in recent history. The living standards of those relying on in-work child care benefits have fallen faster still as these entitlements have been cut back. At the same time labour productivity has also virtually flat-lined (which was one of the reasons why until recently the economic downturn was not fully reflected in the unemployment statistics). In internationally comparative terms, the UK is becoming a lower wage, lower skill, lower productivity economy.
It is surely the case that a combination of trends – decline in real wages, reductions in in-work benefits, disproportionate rises in the living costs of poor families, increasing pressure on claimants to work – is leading to an accelerating increase in the number of people for whom their net income from working is only very marginally higher than being on benefits. I have not seen any statistics on this phenomenon, but it would be interesting to know, for example, how many people now in employment are in net terms receiving a marginal income increase over benefits payments of less than £1 an hour.
The classic right of centre response would be that benefit levels are too high. But, in fact, basic out of work benefits are already very low. The net income unemployed families get is higher than Jobseekers Allowance primarily because of the extra support we give to children and also help with housing costs. The Government is trying to bear down on these but there is a limit if we don’t want children to suffer profound hardship (with, by the way, consequences for their own likely employ-ability in later life) or have thousands of families living on the streets.
There are other arguments for making people work for a marginal improvement in their income. Opinion polls demonstrate a strong public belief in a social obligation on benefit claimants to take any available work. Also, there is a great deal of data which suggests people in work are happier and healthier than those on the dole.
The real challenge – and this is where I think Adrian Beecroft may be aiming at a mote rather than the beam – is improving the productivity of work in the British economy. This is a complex issue with several factors at play. It is about investment (paceMr Beecroft, international evidence suggest that where the costs of employing people are higher employers tend to invest more in them). It is also about consumers. More demanding consumers play an important role in driving improvements in performance among manufacturers and retailers. It is also about the quality of management in British firms and organisations.
Years ago, when it seemed that the problem of work was more one of quality than quantity, I remember writing an article arguing that every job in the UK economy should be one that seeks to enhance the human capital of employees. In fact, I think I argued that every employment contract should contain a commitment by the employer to offer the employee opportunities to develop their skills and achieve career progression. Looking back from these tough times this seems like little more than a pipe dream. But still, if we are not to abandon entirely the hope that the UK can be a high performing economy, we must not give up on the quest that every job is genuinely a stepping stone to a more satisfying, more productive and better paid job.
Breaking up isn’t hard to do
I am greatly relieved that Philip Stephens wrote this piece in the FT today. The last time I commented on political affairs north of the border I faced a mini barrage of criticism, so I had been holding back on my dismay about the apparently unstoppable tide of Scottish independence. Philip’s excellent column gives me some cover.
Let me first say that whether or not Scotland leaves the UK is ultimately a matter for Scots. I respect the intentions and motivations of those who want independence, among whom I am sure there are many Scottish RSA Fellows. But as someone who would be deeply sorry if Scotland became a separate nation, I also agree with Stephens that the argument is currently being lost almost by accident.
It is difficult to know who to blame more. In defiance of the theory of loss aversion, the Conservative (and Unionist) Party is apparently substantially more motivated by repatriating some regulatory powers from Brussels than by saving the UK. Anyway the Party has almost zero credibility in Scotland. The UK Labour Party simply doesn’t care. If that seems like a bald statement, you must judge people by what they do not what they say and what almost every ambitious Scottish Labour politician over the last twenty years had done is the same – they have moved to London. And the Lib Dems are tainted in Scottish eyes both by their collaboration with previous Labour administrations in Scotland and now by being a part of the Westminster Coalition.
With the SNP and their strategically brilliant leader Alex Salmond in almost hegemonic political control and now awash with money, independence (or independence-lite which is probably a more accurate description of what the nationalists call devolution-max) seems inevitable when the referendum comes. You would have thought there would be signs of a ‘no’ campaign mustering but my Scottish friends tell me there are none. Beyond apathy and tribalism there are two deeper reasons why such a campaign may be difficult to develop.
The first is that in stark contrast to the inclusiveness of the rainbow coalition which comprised the Scottish Constitutional Convention (a body key to winning the case for devolution in the nineties) Tories, Labourites, and Lib Dems in Scotland must feel that if they joined forces they would only manage the not inconsiderable feat of looking even more unattractive than they already do.
The second problem is what on earth would be the top line argument of the campaign to keep the union in its present form? Virtually no one in Scotland wants to wear the mantle of unionism but to say instead that you are a bit of a unionist is like hoping people will warm to someone who admits to being only an occasional wife beater. The other tactic, which is to scare people about loss of public service entitlements or jobs, may be ever so slightly less powerful when the economy is tanking and the UK Government is perceived to be imposing the deepest cuts in three generations.
This will probably only reveal my gross naivety, but if I were crafting a campaign I would make it about choice. At the moment Scots can choose to be Scottish in most things, British in some things and European in a few. As anyone who has been to Scotland recently knows, the idea that the current constitutional settlement denies Scots a distinct identity or different policies is laughable. So my campaign would say ‘don’t let the nationalists tell you – you choose who you want to be’.
If I was running a subtheme it might be to ask what the effect on the Scottish coffers would be if tax powers are devolved and the many tens of thousands of middle class Scots who currently work in England during the week paid their taxes to a separate Whitehall Treasury (I really have no idea how much money this is but it would be interesting to know).
Anyway, I won’t be part of any campaign; my support would be bound to make it even more unpopular. But when the referendum happens and the Scots exercise their legitimate right to choose, I will be hoping against hope that a country I love and about which I feel genuine British pride (it was after all the cradle of the enlightenment) doesn’t become a foreign land.
Selectively grumpy
Men of my age need to watch out. I don’t want to be accused of a combination of ageism and sexism but it is my experience that past the age of fifty women tend to become more positive and adventurous while men become more risk averse and negative. Perhaps I’ll explore the reasons for this phenomenon in another post but its observation has made me wary of signs I might be becoming a grumpy old man. And still they come. On Friday evening, as I drove across South London, there was one of the classics of incipient ARG (age-related grumpiness): I found myself shouting at the radio.
The reason for my ire was a discussion on Any Questions about school performance (you can hear it again here, the item is at 37 minutes). The programme was broadcast from Torbay Boys’ Grammar School and near the end a question was asked about the fact that, apparently, 32% of pupils in independent schools get 3 or more A* ‘A’ levels while the figure for grammar schools is 27% and for comprehensives as a whole it’s just 8%.
What made me shout was that of five people who had the opportunity (including two who were explicitly opposed to the selective system, MPs Sarah Teather and Emily Thornberry), no one corrected the misleading impression created by the statistics. Whatever the arguments for or against selection (of which more later), the relevant comparison is not between all schools in non-selective systems and grammar schools in selective systems, it is between all schools under both regimes. And here the evidence is consistent; on a like for like comparison there is little or no difference in the performance of selective and non-selective systems.
I happily assume that my readers are substantially more intelligent than the panel or audience for Any Questions, but in case any of the latter has dropped in, let me explain why the statistics are profoundly (and, I suspect, deliberately) misleading. In selective systems, grammar schools take the top academic cohort measured by the 11- plus. The proportion selected varies but is generally in the region of 10-20%. So, even if we assume the higher level of 20%, then the 27% triple A* star attainment rate in those schools represents 27% of 20% of pupils in those systems, which is just over 5% of pupils overall. Given that the secondary moderns in selective systems are by definition denuded of more academic pupils their performance will be much less good than the 8% average for comprehensives in non-selective systems. This is why, if you add the grammars and secondary moderns together, the overall attainment level in selective systems is no better. It is staggering, on a programme which is presumably intended to inform the public, that no one made this point.
Away from spurious stats the debate about selection will rumble on, although it is significant that Michael Gove has replaced the Conservative ambition to create more grammar schools with the intention of imposing a 1970s grammar school curriculum on all schools. I don’t hold out the faintest hope that the champions of selection will change their views, but recent science seems to have tilted the argument further away from them.
There is the work of Carol Dweck which suggests that children are much more motivated by being told attainment is down to effort than that about inherent intelligence or talent. The 11 plus is basically a kind of IQ test and it seeks to make a clearer distinction – which is then reinforced in many other ways – between clever pupils (who go to grammar schools) and the rest (who go to secondary moderns). Add to this the findings of neuroscientists like Sarah-Jayne Blakemore which demonstrate the plasticity of the teenage brain.
These pieces of research suggest it is both spurious and damaging to sift children into the clever and the dull at the age of eleven. Wouldn’t it have been wonderful if, instead of the platitudes of Ms Teather and the conventional leftie ‘it’s not fair’ critique of selection offered by Ms Thornberry, either of them could have illuminated the debate with new insights like these.
In fact, do you know what, I was right to shout at the radio. And as for this new-fangled interweb thing, not to mention tuneless modern pop music or paying £2.10, yes that’s TWO POUNDS TEN PENCE, for a cup of milky coffee, well don’t get me started….



