Learning to harass

Today as I was walking to the supermarket I happened to pass a group of young men. It was as I was about to walk up a set of steps, and four were sitting on the rails at the base of the steps, and another was sat on the rail at the top of the steps.

These are shallow steps, and running alongside them is a ramp for wheelchairs and prams and suchlike. It was late afternoon. The sky was overcast.

It should further be noted that when I describe these as ‘young men’, I mean they were probably – oh, I don’t know – 13 to 15 years old.

As I passed them heading up the steps a woman was walking down the steps. As she walked past him, the one sat perched on the rail at the top of the steps shouted down to his mates:

Oi Danny! I’d say that was at least a eight out of ten!

Or words to that affect.

In case the context isn’t clear, he was passing comment on the woman’s appearance and shouting his opinion of same down to one of his companions, while she was still very much within earshot.

As I passed the 14 (?) year old boy I considered pushing him slightly so that he fell off the railing. I then admonished myself for even considering such a thing. If I had done so he could easily have fallen onto the tarmac and split his skull. I then admonished myself for not telling him not to harass women in public.

In all honesty, I was never any more likely to give him a Good Talking To than I was to push him off the railing.

Then I went to the supermarket and bought my groceries, and thought no more about it until now.

What made me think of this again was reading this tweet by Laurie Penny:

I’ve seen enough instances of harassment of women by men to know that this must be a severe and ubiquitous problem. The fact that I – a man – have happened to witness this sort of thing going on several times must mean that it goes on all the time.

Cowardice and selfishness will always prevent me from “stepping in” when I see harassment happening*. I know how groups of stupid men act when they can claim to themselves they have been attacked by other men. I also know how individual men act in such circumstances. This is especially true of the kind of men who verbally harass women in the street.

Obviously this demonstrates that I am a terrible and inadequate person; I knew that anyway. But it also demonstrates something else.

What made me remember that particular incident was how young these lads were. I say 14 to 15, but they could have been even younger for all I know. A few years ago they probably thought girls were icky. And now they’ve learnt to treat women as objects in public.

Perhaps this particular chap will grow up and develop impulse control and spend less time hanging around on streetcorners with his mates. Perhaps he’ll learn to behave decently. Perhaps. But there’s a good chance he won’t. But he learnt to behave like this so quickly. It only took a couple of years to transform an innocent kid into a misogynistic gobshite.

This is patriarchy, I guess. Or an aspect of it.

I genuinely don’t know how to solve this problem. I suspect if it ever gets solved it will be through an endlessly frustrating, grindingly difficult process of teaching boys to be better men, and letting the bad men die off slowly.

* Excepting instances of out-and-out violence, where it’s obvious I’m the only person present able to do anything to stop the woman getting severely injured.

Morality, inequality, and charity

If Tim is correct that he has a higher IQ than Polly Toynbee, then this is unfair. Dissembling nature has blighted Polly with lesser abilities to perform certain kinds of cognitive acts, abilities that Tim has in such abundance that he is able to demolish my feeble arguments in less than a paragraph.

Polly and I both have powers of reasoning inferior to that of Tim Worstall. These are brute facts of reality. We are each born with a different set of endowments, and this places limits on what we can achieve. Life is unfair. And Tim is right that calling these brute natural inequalities “immoral” is a misuse of words, and I concede the point.

Something can be unfair without necessarily being immoral. We speak of something being “immoral” when it falls within the realm of human choice. It is unfair that Tim is cleverer than Polly Toynbee (as he assures us he is), but it wasn’t Tim’s decision (or anyone’s decision) that this should be so.

But sometimes things are both unfair and immoral. Society, being the product of human choice, is a realm in which we can say that because something is unfair it is immoral. Society is the way it is because people have chosen that it should be that way. Our society is riddled with inequalities of power and wealth that are not the result of nature. And this is unfair and immoral.

DIGRESSION

Readers will be familiar with the arguments of the philosopher John Rawls, whose big idea was that justice is fairness. There are arguments along Rawlsian lines that a certain degree of inequality is justifiable, because it is necessary to reward those gifted individuals who can improve the collective human condition to such an extent that even the very poorest are made better off than they would be in a more equal situation. But these arguments only enter into consideration after we have established the idea that the first and fairest way of distributing humanity’s finite resources is equally. Equality of resources should be the baseline, and any deviation from that equality should be determined on a case-by-case basis.

END OF DIGRESSION

Put it like this: if, at some point in the future, humanity develops technologies that enable us to improve our cognitive capacities in various ways, including perhaps elevating poor old Polly Toynbee to the intellectual heights of the likes of Tim Worstall, then it would be fairest to distribute that technology as equally as possible. It would, I think, be immoral to restrict such a technology to only those with enormous wealth and power. At this point one’s IQ would cease to be a brute fact of nature, and would become a question of fairness. We – that is, humanity – would have  to choose how to distribute the gifts of intelligence, just as we now choose how to distribute the gifts of material wealth.

And this brings us back to charity. If you accept that chosen inequalities are morally objectionable, then any situation where one person has surplus wealth that they can choose to give to someone in need of that wealth, in turn becomes morally objectionable. Charity becomes an issue of private virtue and public vice. On an individual basis, charity is laudable, but when politicians start praising charity or calling for a ‘big society’, we should be more condemnatory. Politicians should be in the business of making a better society, not in perpetuating the inequalities of existing society. The better society is one with robust and non-voluntary social supports, not soup kitchens.

 

Anyway, Merry Christmas.

 

 

Worstall’s cold, grey, loveless thing

Apropos.

Tim Worstall asks:

And what the fuck’s wrong with voluntary collective action rather than State enforced collective action?

Answer: charity presupposes a condition in which some people have stuff which they can do without, and some people lack stuff that they really need. This inequality (which, like all inequalities, is morally objectionable on the face of it) is only sustained by the actions of the capitalist state in enforcing property rights through its monopoly on the legitimate use of force. In a more just world, there would be no need for charity because you would not have a situation in which some people have, whilst others need.

Aside from this obvious point, I honestly don’t see any moral difference between a spontaneous, voluntary urge to do good on the part of certain individuals, and a reflective, truly collective urge to do good as manifest in a legal requirement to provide support to those in need through the existing system of taxation and welfare.

There is however, a practical difference, in the sense that the former option has more failure modes than the latter. If we, as a community of individuals, choose to rely on charity as the means to ensure that those in need do not starve, then there is a greater chance that certain unfortunates will slip through the system, or be denied what they need because they’re ugly, or smell bad, or are for whatever reason thought to be undeserving by the ‘charitable’ individuals left to dispense their support.

As Britain’s greatest ever prime minister once wrote:

Charity is a cold grey loveless thing. If a rich man wants to help the poor, he should pay his taxes gladly, not dole out money at a whim.

The dearth of *monetisable* investment opportunities

Isn’t the problem here that there is a lack of monetisable investment opportunities, rather than a lack of investment opportunities per se?

I mean, the Internet is a great invention, but a lot of the benefits it brings people’s lives aren’t directly exploitable by capitalists. The blogosphere has been a huge benefit to my personal education and self-actualisation, but none of those benefits have resulted in profit going to capitalists. People write blog posts for free and I read them for free (modulo the cost of an Internet connection and PC). Both bloggers and readers get something beneficial out of the exchange, but no actual money changes hands.

This highlights one of the big problems with capitalism: investment isn’t directed towards things that are actually useful or beautiful, but towards things out of which capitalists believe they can make money. A classic example of this problem is the development of new antibiotics. Because of the development of drug-resistant bacteria, we need new antibiotics, and we need new ways of combating bacterial infection.  But these new ways aren’t being developed because there isn’t any obvious way for private businesses to profit. “Antibiotics are a one-and-done treatment, and are far less profitable for Big Pharma than drugs taken daily to treat chronic conditions and, preferably, have no competition to keep costs down.”

Another acute technological problem lies in transport. This guy has a good explanation as to why private-sector companies won’t invest in Elon Musk’s Hyperloop concept, but he can’t seem to recognise that the obvious solution is to simply have government pay for it. Investing in uncertain, expensive, and speculative technologies is one of the things that government is for.

One of the most frustrating things about the privatisation vs. nationalisation debate is how irrelevant it is. Ultimately, you’ll still have scientists and engineers in labs and workshops trying to solve the problem. It is not clear to me that there is any systematic difference between private and public enterprise in this regard. Great innovations have come out of both publicly and privately-funded initiatives (although it should be noted that most of the really big, important innovations have been paid for by the government; aerospace, the development of the electricity grid, the Internet, the World Wide Web, GSM, most of the early work in computers…).

The solution to both anti-bacterial resistance and the transport problem and global warming is to “just get on with it”. If the private sector won’t pay for it then democratically-accountable governments should. Ultimately someone needs to pay for and manage the research and technological investment programmes necessary to solve our problems. Rather than dicking about playing at shops, we (i.e. humanity) should just get on with it.

Hobbes endorses the ISO

The following extract is from Thomas Hobbes’ The Elements of Law:

In the state of nature, where every man is his own judge, and differeth from other concerning the names and appellations of things, and from those differences arise quarrels, and breach of peace; it was necessary there should be a common measure of all things that might fall in controversy; as for example: of what is to be called right, what good, what virtue, what much, what little, what meum and tuum, what a pound, what a quart, &c.

For in these things private judgments may differ, and beget controversy. This common measure, some say, is right reason: with whom I should consent, if there were any such thing to be found or known in rerum natura. But commonly they that call for right reason to decide any controversy, do mean their own.

But this is certain, seeing right reason is not existent, the reason of some man, or men, must supply the place thereof; and that man, or men, is he or they, that have the sovereign power, as hath been already proved; and consequently the civil laws are to all subjects the measures of their actions, whereby to determine, whether they be right or wrong, profitable or unprofitable, virtuous or vicious; and by them the use and definition of all names not agreed upon, and tending to controversy, shall be established. As for example, upon the occasion of some strange and deformed birth, it shall not be decided by Aristotle, or the philosophers, whether the same be a man or no, but by the laws.

(my emphasis)

Shackle and uncertainty

Reading this interview with G.L.S. Shackle, I am struck by this point:

“involuntary unemployment” merely means that there are people who haven’t enough faith in their expectations to give employment.

Something I’ve always been unclear about with regards to Keynes is whether he (and the post Keynesians, and weird hybrids like Shackle) believed that uncertainty was the only barrier to full employment. There is no obligation on anyone to use all the resources at their disposal. You could argue that the only reason anyone ever maintains excess resources is because of uncertainty, but this presupposes that you – the individual entrepreneur – have direct control the quantity of the resources available to you.

In this context the “resource” is the population of employable people. The entrepreneurial class does not control the population of employable people, and it is not clear that they would necessarily choose to employ the entire population of employable people, even if they had perfect foresight. Indeed it could be argued that the *ahem* entrepreneurial class has an interest in keeping a reserve army of labour unemployed so as to maintain discipline within the ranks of those they do choose to employ.

Once again, economics ignores the political dimension.

In praise of hierarchies

In which your humble correspondent has a minor disagreement with Chris Dillow.

Blogging titan Chris Dillow does not like managers.

As you would expect from such a luminary, Chris’s reasons for disliking the Boss Class are astute and well-thought-out:

The pursuit of efficiency – managerialism’s main goal – cannot be a value-free exercise. “Efficiency” has many conflicting meanings. Does it mean increasing GDP per head, Pareto-optimality, utilitarianism, maximizing Rawlsian primary goods or maximizing capabilities, in Amartya Sen’s sense? How do we choose a meaning of efficiency from this menu? And if we choose utilitarianism (as managerialism often does) what is the moral justification for imposing costs on some – up to and including death, Mr Hoon – so that others can gain?

Chris makes the important distinction between managerialism and management. Managerialism is the ideology of the managerial class, and as such is the ruling ideology of our age. Management, or technocracy, is the application of science to the problem of achieving certain ends given certain resources, and is therefore a branch of engineering*.

I disagree with Chris that all top-down management is harmful. My reasons for thinking this are as follows.

An industrial society requires specialisation. Our world is too complex for one individual intellect to encompass any more than a tiny fraction of it in any depth. In order to function, our industrial society requires that people specialise and develop expertise in particular areas. We need teachers, nurses, paramedics, electrical engineers, baristas, taxi drivers, geologists, science fiction writers, booksellers, economists, entertainers, and economics bloggers. No one (contra Heinlein) can learn how to excel in every one of these areas.

Specialisation requires informational transfer. Individual people, with their individual specialisations, need a way of communicating. It is only through communication that these individual experts will be able to co-ordinate, and it is only through co-ordination that they will be able to deliver the products, projects, and services that we desire.

How is this co-ordination to be achieved? There are two broad answers to this question. One is hierarchy, and the other is… Something. I’m not going to say ‘markets’ because I’m fed up with that word. Call it decentralised co-ordination.

DIGRESSION

I know what a hierarchy is. I understand what a hierarchy is. It is a situation in which one person is vested with authority, and this authority entitles them to tell other people what to do, and it requires that those people do actually do what the first person tells them to do (within various limits and subject to various contextual caveats yaddah yaddah…).

But what is a market?

Seriously.

At this stage a market might as well be an invisible unicorn that grants magical wishes, or a pair of intersecting lines on a page of a textbook, or a place you go to at weekends to buy overpriced honey with bits of honeycomb left in it. I honestly don’t know any more. “The market” means so many things to say many different people that I give up on trying to understand it.

So instead of market, I will use the term decentralised co-ordination. This encompasses a much broader set of behaviours than just whatever markets are taken to be. When motorists are traversing a roundabout they are engaging in decentralised co-ordination. The crowds who walk down Oxford Street are engaging in decentralised co-ordination when they avoid bumping into each other (most of the time).

END OF DIGRESSION

De-centralised co-ordination has a problem. This problem is best illustrated by an example. Suppose we want to build an aeroplane. This is a complex task and therefore requires specialisation. Specialisation requires co-ordination. Co-ordination requires communication. The problem is that within a completely  decentralised system of co-ordination each individual would have to communicate with each other individual. This results in a combinatorial explosion in the amount of communication that has to go on.

If you have, say, 300 engineers working on the design, manufacture, and commissioning of your aeroplane then, in a completely decentralised situation, each engineer would have to engage in 300! interactions (that’s factorial 300) in order to co-ordinate her individual efforts with her fellow engineers.

How much is 300 factorial? If we assume that each interaction will be a “brief chat”, how many “brief chats” will our engineers have to engage in so as to design, manufacture, and commission our aeroplane?

According to Wolfram Alpha, about this many:

30605751221644063603537046129726862938858880417357699941677674125947

65331767168674655152914224775733499391478887017263688642639077590031

54226842927906974559841225476930271954604008012215776252176854255965

35690350678872526432189626429936520457644883038890975394348962543605

32259807765212708224376394491201286786753683057122936819436499564604

98166450227716500185176546469340112226034729724066333258583506870150

169794168850353752137554910289126407157154830282284937952636580145235

23315693648223343679925459409527682060806223281238738388081704960000

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

00000000

Wow. OK.

So, what do we do?

A far more sensible option is to divide the engineers into functional groupings and have each group sub-divided into smaller groups, where each group reports to one particular engineer who digests their information and then passes it up the chain, whilst receiving instruction from those above based on what she has told them; in other words, a hierarchy.

If we have one engineer at the top of the chain, and if she has seven engineers reporting to her, and they have seven engineers reporting to each of them, and they have seven engineers reporting to each of them… we end up with a potential capacity of 1 + 7 + 49 + 343 engineers. What are the total number of “brief chats” required now?

Well let’s see, we have one to seven, then each one of those seven to seven, then each one of those seven to (substantially less than) 343.

So it’s 7 to the 4 right? That’s how many brief chats are going to have to take place. Which according to Wolfram Alpha is:

2401

Which is a lot, yeah? But a lot less than we’d be dealing with if we expected our engineers to communicate on a completely non-hierarchical basis. Two thousand four hundred and ten is a tractable number. You can do business with that kind of number.

This is why hierarchies exist. They are more informationally efficient than non-hierarchies. We have managers because if we didn’t, we couldn’t have cheap flights, we couldn’t have a nuclear deterrent, we couldn’t have the Internet, we couldn’t have electricity. We couldn’t have almost all of the goods and services afforded by our wonderful industrial society.

Bosses exist for a reason; if we didn’t have them, we’d have to create them. Or live in mud huts and grow all our own food.

This may sound strange. Many people think of hierarchies as barriers to communication. We see them as controlling, fusty, bureaucratic, and inefficient.

But really they’re not. Like democracy, hierarchies are the least bad solution to the problem they are intended to solve.

LEFT OUTSIDE SUGGESTS KAIZEN

Some guy on Twitter disagreed with my disagreement with Chris. So what about Kaizen? Well Kaizen is all very well. But the other pillar of the Toyota production system is something called Just In Time. JIT is not a system that spontaneously arose because of the self-interested actions of atomistic individuals working as equals. JIT requires enormous amounts of discipline, morale, and managerial gumption to implement in the first place, and then requires that workers maintain that level of discipline consistently for a long period of time.

So how does one ensure that the workers maintain that level of discipline? Whose responsibility is it to ensure the workers are kept in line?

Well, the bosses, of course.

Once again, the question devolves to an issue of who benefits. Are workers better off for being corralled and controlled? Are the fruits of hierarchical, specialised industrialisation such that workers are – on the whole – better off for being managed? I honestly don’t know.

The real problem here is…

THE POLITICAL ELEMENT

Chris has a point. Left Outside has a point. Hierarchies lend themselves to rent-seeking and power-grubbing. Here’s a points from Left Outside:

I’m thinking more along the lines of avoiding bad news, important people overriding the more knowledgeable.

This happens. But I submit that this will happen in basically any situation involving human beings ever. This is a problem of power, not hierarchy, per se. The problem, as ever, is politics. It is about the morality of the right of some people to dictate to others, as opposed to the effectiveness of the right of some people to dictate to others.

Kaizen is a good thing to have, but it only works if you treat your employees with respect. I don’t know what ‘respect’ means in this context. Some people would argue that demanding that people work for a capitalistic enterprise is inherently disrespectful, but there you are.

Bosses are always going to exist. I’d rather they were all elected by their peers, rather than being appointed by our capitalist overlords; but the fact remains they are necessary. Any socialist utopia worth living in will have bosses, because any socialist utopia worth living in will need the kinds of products, projects, and services that can only be provided by hierarchical organisations.

IN SUMMARY

Like any technology, hierarchy can be used for malicious and anti-social purposes. But that doesn’t mean the technology is intrinsically harmful or that it isn’t worth using in the first place.

*Chris calls technocracy a practice, in the sense used by Alasdair MacIntyre.

Why do people care so much about inflation?

Economists are fond of asking this question. Why do people care so much about inflation? Nick Rowe does it here, Noah Smith does it here. From Nick Rowe:

A lot of non-economists believe the inflation fallacy. I’m an expert on what non-economists think about economics. That’s because I have spent the last 30 years trying to teach non-economists how to think about economics.

Sometime in February, I will ask my ECON1000 students: “So, why is inflation a bad thing?”

I can anticipate the look on their faces. Some will give me that look of sympathy, normally reserved for those who aren’t too bright. Others will look like they know this must be a trick question, since I wouldn’t ask anything that were really quite so obvious. Finally one will answer.

“Because if all prices rise 10% we will only be able to afford to buy 10% less stuff. Duh!” Except the “Duh!” is silent.

That’s the inflation fallacy.

Why is the inflation fallacy a fallacy?

Apples bought must equal apples sold. What is an expenditure to the buyer of apples is a source of income to the seller of apples. Every $1 rise in the price of an apple means the buyer is $1 poorer and the seller is $1 richer.

But there’s a problem with Rowe’s argument; in fact, it’s a problem that crops up again and again in economics: wilful obtuseness on matters of politics. Economists want so much to be an a-political ‘scientific’ discipline that they’d rather sit around being smart-arses and saying stuff like: “if all prices double, and all wages double, that would have no effect on the quantity of labour demanded,” than actually addressing what actually concerns people about inflation.

When people say they are “worried about inflation” what they actually mean is that they are “worried that their real wage will be eroded because commodity prices rise faster than their wages.” Inflation is a worry because it represents one (very effective) way of bosses reducing workers’ wages and increasing profits without the workers being in a position to do anything about it.

If unemployment is high and unions are weak – as is currently the case in the UK – then workers are not in a position to demand rises in their real wage, so commodity inflation represents a threat. 

Now, as Smith argues, there are good reasons to think that the ‘best’ situation is one of moderate, positive inflation; but that necessary upward price adjustment cannot occur simultaneously across all sectors of the economy. Someone has to move first. So the question arises: who shall bear the short term burden of differential price rises, workers or firms?

There has been a great deal of opposition to fiscal stimulus because it is claimed that fiscal stimulus will lead to inflation. This is obviously wrong in the present situation of high-unemployment, because if there is excess capacity in the economy (and what is unemployment but excess capacity?) then using some of that extra capacity will not necessarily result in inflation.

But warnings of inflation are a very effective tool for cowing the masses into doing what the ruling class wants. The ruling class want weak trade unions, low inflation, and a high profit share out of total income. The masses ought to want a high wage share out of total income, strong trade unions, and moderate inflation. Insofar as a trade-off exists between unemployment and inflation the masses ought to prefer a situation of full employment and moderate inflation, over a situation of high unemployment and low inflation.

But there are many cognitive biases that exist to prevent the masses from expressing a rational preference. Although people fear unemployment, even in the worst economic situation, the majority of people remain employed. Unemployment is awful for the people experiencing it, but those people are only ever one small fraction of the total working population. But inflation is experienced by everyone in the working population.

The salience effect leads people to overweight the importance of things that are in front of them. People spend more time shopping and looking at rising commodity prices (especially of big-ticket items like petrol) than they do looking at unemployment figures. The just world fallacy and fundamental attribution error leads people to blame individual unemployed people for being unemployed, rather than blame the impersonal economic forces that are actually its cause. As George Orwell writes in The Road to Wigan Pier, this can even lead people to blame themselves:

When a quarter of a million miners are unemployed, it is part of the order of things that Alf Smith, a miner living in the back streets of Newcastle, should be out of work. Alf Smith is merely one of the quarter million, a statistical unit. But no human being finds it easy to regard himself as a statistical unit. So long as Bert Jones across the street is still at work, Alf Smith is bound to feel himself dishonoured and a failure.

On the other hand, if the supermarket jacks up the price of petrol, I – and many others – are far more likely to demand that Something Must Be Done; and we are more likely to be listened to, because petrol prices affect more people, and their impact is more immediate and obvious than that of unemployment.

In summary: anti-inflation policy is a wedge issue that enables the rich to persuade the poor to vote against their own interests. I have no idea what to do about this.

Marxism vs. social democracy

Whilst re-reading Straw Dogs by John Gray, I came across this remark on the post-war consensus:

The welfare state was a by-product of the Second World War. The National Health Service began in the Blitz, full employment in conscription.

Look back to the nineteenth century, to the time between the end of the Napoleonic Wars and the outbreak of the First World War. That great era of peace in Europe was also a period of great inequality. The majority of the population lived from hand to mouth, and only the very rich were safe from sudden poverty.

In affluent, high-tech economies, the masses are superfluous – even as cannon fodder. Wars are no longer fought by conscript armies but by computers – and in the collapsed states that litter much of the world, by the ragged irregular armies of the poor. With this mutation of war, the pressure to maintain social cohesion is relaxed. The wealthy can pass their lives without contact with the rest of society. So long as they do not pose a threat to the rich, the poor can be left to their own devices.

Social democracy has been replaced by an oligarchy of the rich as part of the price of peace.

It is worth reminding ourselves that William Beveridge originally conceived of the British welfare state as a system to “keep men fit for service”.

I have suspected for a long time now that the post-war consensus was an historical one-off. A confluence of global and national factors enabled the creation of a relatively peaceful and relatively prosperous world, at least in the western democracies. Adam Posen argues that we are returning to the Victorian ‘old normal’ of a highly unequal, globalised, and multi-polar world. The world founded on what Cosma Shalizi calls the “useful work of mid-century optimism and intelligence” in monetary policy has collapsed, and been replaced with a world of floating exchange rates and neoliberal trade policy; a policy which benefits the global 1%, and results in stagnant or falling living standards for the majority – at least in the western democracies.

But of course, humanity as a whole has been made better off. The new working classes of China and India are massively wealthier than they were during the so-called ‘golden age’ of capitalism. Essentially, the last thirty years has seen a transfer of wealth from the middle and working classes of the developed world up to the global elite, and down to the Chinese and Indians. What I don’t understand is whether this transition could have been handled better; could it have been possible for politicians to ‘ease the fall’ as jobs went overseas? Is it true that many people in ‘post industrial’ countries are simply surplus to requirements, as Gray implies?

Chris Dillow is fond of pointing out that social democracy faces many inherent limitations in what it can accomplish, because it attempts to reach an accord with a capitalist system that is inherently hostile to the interests of most working people. I don’t know if Chris is right; after all, what was once achieved may again be achievable, but I agree that there are many systemic reasons to be sceptical of social democracy.

In which our hero mansplains to feminists

I left a comment at this post on the blog of someone called Jem Bloomfield:

Hum.
So this piece highlights a lot of problems I have with the feminist movement, or at least with the online/Twitter wing of the feminist movement. Take this, for example:

They can’t imagine not being the heroes of the movement.

Or this:

For white cis men, one of the most important things we can realize about feminism is that it is not about us. We can contribute, we can co-operate, but we can’t lead it, win it or set the agenda. We can’t embody it or introduce it to the big time. We can’t be feminism. If we ever did, it would stop being feminism.

This strikes me as a deeply counter-productive position. It seems to imply that feminism is some exclusive club, rather than a political ideology. As such, there is no ‘agenda’. There is no need for ‘leaders.’ A set of moral or ideological propositions constitutes an agenda in and of itself. A political ideology succeeds through persuading as many people as possible to adopt its tenets, and not through the creation of charismatic leaders.
Political movements succeed by building coalitions of interests and coalitions of agreement. If feminism is to succeed it must include men, and it must make itself appealing to men.
I know that this last sentence will probably outrage a lot of people, but the facts are that men are approximately 50% of the human race and represent rather more than 50% of the existing power and wealth of the human race. Is this a good thing? No. In the best of all possible worlds, would it be the case that there existed such an inequality of power? No. Do we live in the best of all possible worlds?

No.
To succeed in making a better world, feminists must co-opt men and ensure that men are ‘on board’ with the feminist movement and with its ideals and objectives. As has already been mentioned, it’s mostly the actions and behaviour of men that results in a need for feminism in the first place. If men feel like feminism is ‘something for women’ they won’t care about, or they will dismiss it, or (perhaps worst of all) they will simply continue to be indifferent to it.
Men like to be heroes. They like to see themselves as heroes. Women probably like to be heroes too. So what’s the harm with encouraging people (including men) that they are the heroes of a morally righteous political movement? It’s the sort of thing that gets the juices flowing. It’s the sort of positive vision that people could actually feel enthusiastic about supporting.

If we[1] don’t have a problem taking into account another person’s special expertise in a setting like that, surely we should be even more keen to acknowledge their right to speak about their own experience.

There is a difference between data (e.g. a woman’s particular experience of sexism in a patriarchal world), and doctrine (e.g. feminists must oppose Page 3). The latter, unlike the former, is the subject of debate and argument, and the quality of an argument is independent of the person making it.
Look: I know that this comment probably sounds incredibly trollish, and I apologise for that; but I’d sincerely like to hear someone explain why I’m wrong, if I am.

I'm a white male, age 18 to 49. Everyone listens to me, no matter how dumb my suggestions are.

“I’m a white male, age 18 to 49. Everyone listens to me, no matter how dumb my suggestions are.”