A NEED FOR THE MORALS OF POLITICS TO BE RE-EXAMINED

Intro: The desire for transformational politics is high given the moral challenges of today

We often hear people say that politicians are ‘all the same’, which infer a general objection to our technocratic, managerial political culture. During 2013, figures from outside the Westminster bubble unearthed a public yearning for leaders with the moral and ethical clarity to face many of our present woes.

The greatest need for moral leadership is at its peak during times of economic scarcity. The financial crisis of 2008 and the years of austerity that have followed have returned to the fore the ethical questions that were too often set aside and ignored during the pre-crash era. Political and economic questions such as, ‘How should limited resources be allocated?’, ‘What constitutes the good society?’, ‘What are the values that should underpin our economy?’, or, ‘Can individualism and the common good be reconciled?’ The public disillusionment with our political leaders and what their parties stand for can partly be explained by their direct failure to address these issues more convincingly. When politics is reduced to a game, and when party strategists continually seek to outmanoeuvre each other for short-term tactical advantage, it is unsurprising that the public turns away. The frequent cliché that they are ‘all the same’ is not an attack (as is often thought) on a perceived lack of policy divergence, but on the managerial and technocratic culture that political parties embody.

Behind such public apathy and disillusionment, there is a craving for answers to the moral challenges of our time and for national leaders who can at least attempt to provide them. The recent death of one of the world’s most respected statesman, Nelson Mandela, has made this even more so.

Noticeably, however, one of the trends of 2013 was the emergence of leaders outside the political circle who have shown considerable moral guidance. Pope Francis, for example, has revived his Church’s spiritual fortunes by reorienting it away from the conservative obsessions of same-sex marriage, abortion and contraception and towards issues of economic equality and social justice. Pope Francis has made a number of emblematic gestures since becoming Pontiff last March, including humble acts such as carrying his own suitcase, living in a modest hostel as opposed to the rich grandeur of the Vatican palace, the embracing of a disfigured man, and has communicated his vision of a church ‘of the poor, for the poor’. The moral denunciation by Francis of ‘unbridled capitalism’ has resonated all the more as a result of his church’s changing stance and position. After decades of steep decline, church attendance among Roman Catholics has risen significantly across the world, including in Britain too.

The Archbishop of Canterbury, Justin Welby, who was enthroned two days after the inauguration of Pope Francis, has, over the same period, reaffirmed the Church of England’s status as ‘a defender of the most vulnerable.’ He has openly condemned the coalition government’s welfare cap on benefits and for making children and families pay the price for high inflation, rather than the government. Mr Welby has denounced the usurious lending of payday loan companies and has been equally critical of banks in their desire to continually seek what is ‘legal’ and never what is ‘right’. Like Pope Francis, the Archbishop of Canterbury has demonstrated his Church’s values through deeds as well as words.

One need not share their faith to respect the moral clarity that both religious leaders have brought to issues of economic justice. There have been others, too, such as the comedian Russell Brand, who provoked a remarkably successful debate with his insistence that the solution to deepening inequality and rampant consumerism has to be primarily ‘spiritual’ and his declaration that profit is ‘the most profane word we have’, commanded public attention for almost a fortnight in a way few politicians can.

Whilst not standing for public election, neither the Pope nor the Archbishop of Canterbury faces the same kind of struggles to reconcile competing interests as many of our politicians must contend with. The political class can learn, though, from how they have engaged with fundamental questions and how previously dormant debates have been actively revived.

Some of our more thoughtful MPs from across the political spectrum have recognised the need for a different kind of politics. Jon Cruddas, Labour’s policy review co-ordinator, for example, called for a ‘reimagined socialism’ in his George Lansbury Memorial Lecture in November. Mr Cruddas called for a type of socialism that is ‘romantic, not scientific; humane and warm; passionate yet humble’ and one that ‘pushes back against party orthodoxy, careerism and transactional politics’.

The re-moralisation of our politics and society remains a deep desire five years after the financial crash. In leading that transformation, we still await the politician who can inspire and provide the transformational leadership many people are now demanding.