It's Friday, and it's not been a bad week.

Having already finished off the chapters that led into my paper, I was left to start new chapters stuffed full of messy notes and quotes. I did some restructuring, then cut up the paper to use it a series of signposts for the two new chapters, then did some more restructuring. After that I sorted through the notes and planned each sub-section, and in some places each paragraph, for the two new chapters (across which the IHR paper lay, dissected and spread-eagled).

In the last two to three days I have been writing up the first chapter of Part 3 (or Part 2, as it will soon be known), and finished this afternoon on around 9,000 words. There are around 16,000 words worth of notes left to build this chapter, which needs to be around 15,000 in total (and closer to 12,000 by the final draft).

The last two weeks have taken their toll. I am very tired. We lost the semi-final at the weekend, and although I didn't have the worst game ever, I wasn't great. But in 5-a-side on Wednesday I redefined the notion of 'complete rubbish'.

The new chapter isn't the greatest as it is, to be honest, it follows much of the conventions established by the literature without building too much upon them. But it needs to be there so that the rest of the thesis makes sense. It is a transitionary stage in the story, the kind of which will be familiar to any fans of Arsenal or 24. And like many institutions these days, it will be subject to 'swingeing cuts', though made, I hope, with the aim of improving quality rather than saving a few bucks so that 'confidence is restored'.

Interesting debates going on right now between economists and economists, between economists and politicians, and between politicians and politicians. It is clear that the 'economic theory community' is divided over what constitutes the best course for Britain's recovery. That is fine. Debate is good.

What enrages me, however, is Osbourne's argument that 'the people will decide at the ballot box'. Firstly, even if I supported continued governmental intervention, I can think of plenty of reasons not to vote for the Labour Party. On the other hand, there are even more compelling reasons not to vote Tory, even if I thought immediate efforts to reduce the deficit was necessary.

Secondly, it is such a complicated issue but making the argument for cuts is a much easier task. Reducing one's borrowing sounds sensible, but only if you make the fallacy of composition (thinking that running personal or household finances is an exact metaphor for running those of a nation).

1. Either Osbourne & Co. know this and are deliberately and cynically dumbing the debate down to 'tough, sensible, frugal' vs 'irresponsbile, reckless borrowing'. 
2. Or, they are completely ignorant of Keynesian theory. 

I'm not sure which is better.

As versions of the Tories go, the idiots with integrity are probably a marginally more attractive proposition than the calculating bastards. But it is like being asked if you'd rather be sliced into tiny pieces by a cruel ninja or fall off a cliff in a bus driven by a smiling madman.

'Letting the public decide' is code for 'let's construct a simple narrative for to people who are completely ignorant of macroeconomic policy'. For God's sake, if the economists (who have spent years studying this sort of thing) aren't yet agreed on the issue, don't call for an election fought on those dividing lines, which will be decided by people who know much less about it than the experts.


I wish politicians would defend the need for knowledge and expertise. I hate that politics is about seeming approchable, seeming as if you care and understand, about just seeming. I don't care if you like Guinness in cans, I want to know why you think you're qualified to deal with something that is seriously complicated and difficult.

I hate that Brown panders to this, giving interviews with Piers Morgan to cry about his baby, rather than using his intellect to expose his opponents as naive schoolboys. If the election is going be about personality, it's going to be one of the most unappealling ever: the moody control freak who can't communicate vs. the slimy fraud struggling to conceal his elitism.

It feeds in to what is wrong with political life overall. A lot of people don't make informed political choices based on arguments; it's all about who they want to see on the news every night. They get sick of reading about someone, of seeing them on telly, and base decisions on this rather than on the results that their policies have had on their everyday life, or what effect a contender's policies might have, or, heaven forbid, what would be best for everyone in the country, the majority of whom live on a weekly or monthly wage.


Yes folks, the majority are working class. What a deeply unfashionable thing to say. In fact, I don't like talking about politics in terms of class interests, but only because it has the effect of implying that there is a degree of quantitative equality between the classes. Looking it at that way, 'Working class' interests outweigh those of the 'middle class' purely by force of numbers. Of course, that shouldn't be what politics is about either.

In fact, I am struggling to conceive of any robust defintion of 'middle class' that clearly distinguishes this group when, during a recession, everybody who works for a wage is in an insecure position. How about: 'The working class work. The middle class are working class people who think that they're not working class because the bank is lending or has lent them or their parents money to buy a house. The upper class don't even know what day it is, let alone what class they belong to.' Ho, ho! Who said satire was dead?