Eduardo and the architecture of morality
There is a wonderful piece by Matthew Syed in this morning’s Times. It explores the controversy surrounding Eduardo’s dive against Celtic last week, which has now led to a two match ban for the Arsenal player. Syed recalls his own attempt to cheat in a championship table tennis game and how he was saved from himself by one of his coaches. Syed argues that rules, regualtions and video referees only take you so far. Sports need moral code strong enough to weigh against the overwhelming desire to succeed.
I would love to undertake research about the nature of moral dilemmas. Over the last year or so we have seen many episodes, ranging from Ross and Brand, to Sir Fred Goodwin, to MPs’ expenses, in which the public has reacted against what it sees as unacceptable behaviour. Yet there has been relatively little discussion of what might be called the ‘architecture’ of moral choice.
Like other aspects of behaviour, morality emerges from the interaction of three levels of personality. First, we have certain hard wired predispositions, both as a species and as individuals. The evolutionary psychologist, Marc Hauser, has shown a remarkable consistency across cultures of certain quite subtle moral distinctions. Also, people have a different capacity to exercise restraint depending on their physiology and socialisation (think, for example, of the problems sufferers of autism have with empathy).
Second, there are the cultural norms which frame moral choices. If in a society or sub culture there is a taboo attaching to a certain behaviour (drinking, gambling, eating dogs) it will carry a moral weight lacking in another cultural setting. A fascinating issue is the degree to which moral frames differ from organisation to organisation – for example a city bank or an NHS hospital. Third there is the conscious process of decision making in the face of a dilemma.
Very often controversy about an alleged moral failing concerns whether it is a cultural or organisational problem, or one that can be attributed to the immorality of the individual: did the MPs’ expenses debacle result from the culture of Westminster or the greed of individual MPs? (The answer, of courses is some combination of the two)
These are complex issues. It is not simply a matter of attributing causality across the three different levels. Think of the famous study of theology students who had just discussed the parable of the Good Samaritan. When, immediately afterwards, the students were directed past a stranger in obvious distress there was no difference between them and students who had studied a different bible story. Instead, the key variable was whether the students were in a hurry. The determining factor was not people’s beliefs or prevailing norms but whether they had the ‘head space’ to be receptive to the empathetic signals which our brains are hard wired to generate.
I’m sure my readers can direct me to some good reading in this area. But beyond the theory, it would be great to use real life examples to explore more closely the moral architecture of a variety of sectors. How about starting with banking, sport, politics and the media.
The wrong answer to the BBC’s image problem?
I was on a panel yesterday at an event organised by outgoing Information Commissioner Richard Thomas. It wasn’t my finest hour, as I tried unsuccessfully to disguise having a tenth as much knowledge of data and civil liberties as the other participants. But I did have a good conversation with Jonathan Dimbleby, the event chair.
Jonathan has written a powerful attack on the BBC Trust for its censuring of BBC Middle East correspondent Jeremy Bowen. Now, I am all for media accountability, but having read through the detail of this case the Trust response does seem excessive. An essay by Bowen on the 1967 Six Day War was criticised by two well-known pro-Israeli activists. The Trust then agreed to a number of small amendments to Bowen’s piece. Supporters of the journalist fear that the damage to his and the BBC’s reputation caused by this apparent censure from the Trust is massively disproportionate.
My many friends in the BBC tell me that the system of editorial compliance now feels out of control. Fear of any criticism of content is creating cumbersome form-filling processes, a burgeoning bureaucracy and posing a threat to freedom and creativity (there is even talk by some programme makers of establishing an anonymous website on which to publish what they see as the more ludicrous compliance decisions). I was reminded of these concerns this morning when I heard that the BBC is again investigating Jonathan Ross, this time as a consequence of four complaints (so far) that a joke he made last weekend was homophobic.
Of course, these issues are difficult. The BBC is still in the shadow of a variety of attacks including the Gilligan affair, Ross/Brand, the misrepresentation of the Queen and dodgy phone-ins. Various other media interests – most obviously Associated Newspapers – are always on the look out for populist exposes of the BBC and the Conservative Party is adopting a position of studied neutrality about the future of the Corporation. But is it the right strategy to try, at whatever price, to ensure that no content ever upsets or irritates anyone, whatever their agenda?
In my experience, few thoughtful people are seriously critical of the range of BBC content; indeed most continue to regard it as excellent. The real image problem for the BBC in media circles right now is not its editorial policy but that it can seem impervious to the wider problems of the sector and public service broadcasting in particular. For instance, BBC executives can still be heard saying – as its BBC Trust Chairman, Sir Michael Lyons, did here last year – that any diversity needed in public service broadcasting can be delivered by pluralism within the Corporation! And, as the BBC argues that it can’t afford to lose a penny of its funding to help the rest of the sector, the pay of its senior executives doesn’t help its cause.
We form general impressions of organisations, as we do of people. Those we judge to be modest and generous we are inclined to forgive when they make errors. But when those we deem arrogant and self interested err we enjoy their discomfort (witness the MPs’ expenses saga). Could it be that instead of attempting to avoid all editorial criticism – a project that will either fail or be deeply counter productive – the BBC should be focussing more on its image as a Corporation?
PS: In case there is any doubt that my views may be influenced by the RSA’s new chairman, here is a link to a blog wote in May last year expressing some similar views.
Russell Brand, Jonathan Ross debacle
The Guardian’s Jenni Russell is always worth reading. Today she shines a light on an important dimension of the Brand Ross debacle. She describes her own experience as a young BBC producer trying to deal with a cantankerous and sloppy radio presenter. After trying to get the star in question to perform better it was quickly made clear by the powers that be it was he the ‘talent’ – not she the producer – who would call the shots. Within days the presenter had her removed from the programme.
Russell cites her own experience to underline the thesis that the problem at the BBC was about the power imbalance between Brand and Ross and their fixers on the one hand, and the young producers and corporate executives on the other. There are parallels here with the widespread feeling among football fans that individual players and their agents (who, unlike the fans who pay their wages, generally lack any loyalty to a club) have too much power. Echoes too of the City in which mathematical whiz kids and super charged deal makers ran rings round both internal and external supervision.
Which takes us to a much bigger debate about the nature and value of individual talent. Coming from another angle Malcolm Gladwell has made two important contributions to this debate. First, he has demonstrated that the point at which geniuses produce what is deemed by their peers to be their master work is distributed across the life cycle. The Mozart phenomenon of genius being exhibited almost from the cradle is the exception. Of course, people who prove to be great artists, intellectuals or inventors are likely to show talent in their youth but the point at which this talent creates a truly exceptional product is unpredictable. This randomness is often subsequently disguised. This is because once someone achieves genius status all their work before and after their breakthrough will tend to be favourably reassessed.
This is a point made by Nassim Nicholas Taleb in ‘The Black Swan’ where he suggests the process by which certain authors or composers emerge as geniuses while the rest fall back into obscurity is much more serendipitous than we like to imagine. I love Dickens and think Great Expectations is a work of genius but I suspect that in the canon of Dickens there are many novels which are seen as classics even though they are inferior to other forgotten works by Victorians who never got their big breakthrough. Thus the idea that Dickens was a genius throughout his life and that he stood head and shoulders above his contemporaries is a self fulfilling prophesy.
Gladwell has also thrown his weight behind the argument that scientific breakthroughs, which end up being attributed to one person, are nearly always the outcomes of the work of many people, one of whom happens to put in place the final piece of the jigsaw. Had the so called genius not existed then the piece would have inevitably been put in place by someone else.
The combination of post-hoc rationalisation, the allure of simple stories of human heroism and the ideology of individualism has cemented the myth of individual talent. Globalisation, the growth of PR and celebrity culture have accelerated this process. Those deemed talented are then in a powerful position to reinforce the myth at every turn.
The blind worship of individual talent is intellectually suspect and socially destructive. Maybe this too will be a welcome victim of these new times.
Continuing the debate on the Brand and Ross ructions
Perhaps this blog thing really works. Last week I did some filming for the Politics Show on the basis of a ‘blogversation’ with Tim Montgomerie from Conservative Home and this morning I am woken by a call from Radio Wales asking me to do a piece about Brand and Ross (the subject of yesterday’s posting). This gave me a chance to set the row over obscene ‘phone messages in the wider context of the debate over public service broadcasting.
Over the years, especially when Government has been looking at the BBC Charter and the license fee arrangements, I have been ‘consulted’ by members of the BBC’s expansive public affairs team. I have also attended several splendid lunches ostensibly held so the DG of the BBC can hear the insights of assembled opinion formers. It took me some time to realise these events aren’t about listening at all – they are an opportunity for BBC executives to do their well rehearsed big sell of the Corporation.
I got to understand this when, a few years ago, I approached a couple of these events with a strong opinion of my own. As I expounded my ideas about the future of public service broadcasting I sensed from the shuffling feet and glazed eyes that my insights were about as welcome and respected as those of the man in the huge overcoat who once sat next to me on a bus and claimed to be able to control the weather with his feet.
But on Radio Wales this morning I had a captive audience. Having mentioned in passing my thesis that the economic downturn will see greater intolerance towards bad behaviour by the rich and privileged, and recognising also the specific stupidity and bad taste of the Andrew Sachs episode (as too in fairness have Brand and Ross) I went on to say that the case of public service broadcasting needed to rest on two pillars: quality and public value.
They may not be to my taste, but arguably quality is not the problem with Brand and Ross. What they do, they do well, commanding impressive listening and viewing figures and a loyal following, particularly among the young, a group that has many other options for its entertainment than the BBC But it is much harder to make the public value case for their broadcasting.
The unwelcome question I asked across the salmon mousse at all those audiences with BBC executives was ‘can everyone who works for the Corporation explain the public service purpose of what they do?’ This is easy enough for the likes of David Attenborough and Andrew Marr. Which is why they are the ones at the lunches and who get wheeled out at Charter renewal time. As someone once said the BBC can be relied upon to get ‘old time religion’ when its future is up for grabs (the someone in person being Mark Thompson, then head of C4) but what does the public service obligation mean for Bruce Forsyth, Gary Lineker, or the producers of Spooks?
The answer might be subtle. It may rely a great deal on the credible argument that quality programming is itself in the public interest (especially now we live in a world when the economics of content production are becoming tougher and tougher) but in the end BBC producers and presenters have to show that they have ambitions and sensibilities beyond those who provide the content for commercial broadcasters.
That the BBC can cause a row like this is, in itself, an important sign of its importance as a public institution. Had Brand’s show been on Bravo or Virgin, and had it not been that we, as licence fee payers, felt that we had been compelled to pay for it, there would have been much less of a row. But this was exactly the problem with the climate in which Ross and Brand’s stuff was allowed to go out. The values of Brand’s programme seemed indistinguishable from those which might animate a cheap and nasty satellite channel.
A few years ago this idea that everyone be able to explain why working for the BBC (and being paid for by the citizen) made them different fell on deaf ears. Perhaps now it should be taken more seriously. Especially at a time when the BBC is fighting an aggressive campaign against the idea that its riches should be spread around the other ailing sectors of public service broadcasting.



