Wednesday, 8 May 2013

Creator. Disruptor. Doer. Bullshitter

A few days ago, I posted a piece called Entering The Bullshit Zone, satirising my university for paying an unqualified therapist and author of That Bitch for 'facilitating' a conference promoting Entrepreneurship in Education. Briefly: serious scholars of management and business have long since laid to rest the notion of the Great Entrepreneur who'll reshape the world. For a short dismissal delivered by somebody rather more impressive than me, try Barack Obama's 'you didn't make that' speech, which reminds everybody that social advances require a society rather than a solitary genius. 



I worry that this discourse of capitalist individualism is socially destructive, not supported by any evidence at all, and promotes a model which is simply not that of the economy at large. Most of us work for medium to large businesses, who have acquired all the advantages. Promoting dubious and unscientific therapeutic or pyschological development models is merely the latest version of the dodgy ads found in the Reader's Digest, and before that, at fairgrounds. These people are snake-oil salesmen. Universities should be critiquing these discourses, not inviting the salesmen in, giving them lots of money (especially when the library and staff numbers are being cut) and leaving our students at their mercy. Instead, my university and I suspect other places are queuing up to fund these secular scientologists. Even more worryingly, our pedagogical specialists are up to their flaky necks in the therapeutic education discourse, in which it's how you feel about things that matters, rather than what you know and how keen your critical faculties are. I think it's dangerous. My colleague is writing papers on this at the moment: I watch him tear his hair out as he traces these academics' references back to nothing more substantial than airport-bookshop management texts, Deepak Chopra-style vaguely spiritual woo and the occasional motivational speech. 

And yet we're still at it. We run a competition/course for students, the Unipreneur Challenge. It's run by a guy we'll call Barry Paul McCartney for legal reasons (the chap in question doesn't believe in joining the debate, he'd rather complain about me to my boss), who rents an office on campus. What does Barry do?

Occupation
Entrepreneur with a portfolio of projects and businesses
Tell me more, Barry. 
  • I dream, create and do, inspired by and inspiring others
  • I help develop entrepreneurship in entrepreneurs, educators and employees
  • I wish for my children to reach out and touch the vibrancy of life and all it has to offer.
I'd quite like to get into dreaming, creating, doing and inspiring. What's the money like? What do you do every day? What are the core attributes required?
Skills
Creator, disruptor, doer 
Wow. A creator! Like God? What have you created, Barry? What have you disrupted? Because as far as I can see, capitalism seems to be bumbling along from crisis to crisis without any serious creating or disrupting on your part. What have you challenged, Barry?
Employment
HOT500
Co-Founder, 2012 - present
Create, deliver and engage colleges, universities and businesses with challenges to simulate [yes, you read that right] and focus entrepreneurial skills towards a given goal 
BizBritain Finance Ltd
Director, 2013 - present
Support young startup entrepreneurs with finance, mentoring and training. Delivery partner to Start Up Loans Company having access to £1.6 million in loans in 2013 
Wist Ltd
Entrepreneur, 2012 - present
Building a suite of tools to acquire information, decide strategy and perform actions. All online and able to be integrated into start-up and development activities for business support, enterprise education and financial brokerage 
i2R Entrepreneur Services
Entrepreneur, 2010 - 2011
Mentor and consultant to micro business owners to help develop more robust entrepreneurship and sustainable business models 
Parker Hannifin, Chomerics Division
European Sales Manager, 2000 - 2003
Led a direct and indirect sales force to build relationships, grow value and profit into the electronics industry 
Ideas 2 Reality
Director, 2006 - 2010
Developed ideas with business owners to increase readiness for finance, access routes to market and speed up operations
Um. This doesn't look very creative, disruptive or inspiring to me, Barry. It looks like you sold components for a while, and ran a lot of very short-lived companies specialising in selling rather flaky pseudo-scientific self-help strategies to people. You don't seem to employ many (any?) people and mainly sell your skills to one organisation: my university, which also provides you with office space in which you operate these various companies. 

In a sense, Barry is a classic entrepreneur. He's parlayed basically no skills or qualifications into a rather successful career selling platitudes to suckers. There's something very circular about entrepreneurs whose only activity is to promote the idea of entrepreneurship. It looks rather like pyramid sales. 
We provide an inclusive ecosystem of empowerment and holistic support.
I believe that passion, humour and purpose are all that's needed to make great things happen. 
Really? All you need is some positive emotion and determination? Not substantial skills? Knowledge? Capital? Contacts? Ideas? Infrastructure? 

As the proverb goes, 'Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me'. I am ashamed of my university for fostering this rubbish. We have a higher calling and a social duty to explore this stuff, not to propagate and promote it. As it is, we're subverting our educational and cultural duty to the local community by uncritically allowing our students to believe that this kind of discourse is legitimate. We know better: we have a School of Business (partly) devoted to critical examination of business structures, and yet we spend students' and taxpayers' money on Barry and his friends. We should be ashamed of ourselves. 

One Ferguson Down: One More To Go

I woke up this morning to to joyful news that Ferguson has resigned. Fantastic. Another victory for reason and progressive values.

Sadly, I was mistaken. They meant Sir Alex Ferguson, enormously successful footballing tyrant and manager of Manchester United, not Niall Ferguson, Transatlantic Bigot. Master of the hairdryer treatment, of Fergie Time (a new branch of physics), of mind games and of his players, many of whom have been treated ruthlessly when they evince the slightest interest in thinking for themselves. With Ferguson gone, surely Assad can't be far behind. But one man's retirement is another's opportunity. Tony Pulis of Stoke City must be in for a shout: he's uncompromising, rude, determined and enormously gritty. The episode in which he dashed out of a shower, naked, to head-butt his striker for complaining about a Christmas party must be considered a job application in Old Trafford. The only difference between Alex and Tony is, well, success.

But that's enough about one rich Scottish Ferguson with a healthy disregard for the rules of polite society. The other Scottish Ferguson with an attitude who requires defenestration in short order is of course Niall Ferguson the Harvard economist and rather slap-dash scholar. A few days ago, he claimed that John Maynard Keynes's economic models were flawed because JMK was homosexual, married a ballerina and being childless, had no long-term stake in society. And he's done it before: this is no off-the-cuff quip.

I don't know. These gay economists. Marrying our ballerinas and advocating counter-cyclical strategies to maintain capitalist stability. Better people than me have critiqued Ferguson's reactionary attitudes and terrible books, but this outburst annoyed me. Firstly: homosexuals have children sometimes. More frequently, homosexuals have nephews and nieces, friends and loved ones, all of whose well-being they may well consider to be a stake in society. I'm childless. Should my vote be removed, my opinions discarded?

Ferguson's logic leads to the repeal of universal suffrage. In Britain and many other countries, the vote was restricted to people owning property with a minimum value: clearly an attempt to disenfranchise the vast majority of the population, the argument was that the poor had no stake in society. As well as being childless, I don't own any property. I could up sticks and leave in a heartbeat, spreading subversive poison throughout the land.

Ferguson isn't an historian or an economist. He's a freelance ideologue who abuses his academic credentials to propagate a jaundiced, backwards world-view. If his supporters at the Daily Mail want to keep buying his books, fine. But Harvard shouldn't be dignifying this rubbish with an academic post.

Tuesday, 7 May 2013

Blue Monday?

Yesterday was far from being a Blue Monday, unless we're talking about the azure-coloured sky. I went to a wonderful place (the Weaver Hills and their environs), walked, saw countless larks and watched an enormous hare coolly leap a high wall topped with barbed wire.

But buying Hannah Peel's music-box covers of various songs including Blue Monday reminds me of a little hobby of mine: collecting Joy Division and New Order cover versions. So here are a few of my favourite Blue Mondays and a couple of others.

Here's the original:



Here's Hannah Peel's. The EP version is actually better: layered and lovely. But this is pretty good too.



I'll never tire of the Brythoniaid Cor Meibion's version, promoting last year's Festival Number 6. It's just magisterial.



As you probably deduced, I tend towards the melancholic: under the Detroit-influenced beats, much of New Order's work is downbeat and lost - the dichotomy is what makes them work. That said, here's Nouvelle Vague's Blue Monday, which I find insultingly clodhopping. This isn't a band in love with the material. Far too ironic.



Orgy, on the other hand, are heavy but perhaps too respectful:



Kylie Minogue's mashed up Can't Get Blue Monday Out Of My Head is a slice of cheeky genius though:



Also-rans: The Enemy should be ashamed. Chancers. Thankfully not online. I'm not sure how I feel yet about the Jolly Boys' calypso version either. And although I like elements, especially the viola, the Vitamin String Quartet's cover feels a bit like attention-seeking slumming. The Gregorian Chant version is execrable. Way too mannered (and this is from somebody who rejected everything about Catholicism except for the music) and frankly beneath them. The Brian Jonestown Massacre and Country Teasers versions are jolly thrashes, but not distinctive enough to detain us. You've got to do something different for a decent cover. Otherwise, what's the point?

Which is why I have a soft spot for these other New Order covers. First up, Boo Radleys' early shoegaze/thrash attempt at True Faith:



Then there's Frente's achingly beautiful 'Bizarre Love Triangle': the original buries the lyrics deep in the mix. Nouvelle Vague do a passable version too.



Then there's Rheinallt H Rowlands' gorgeous 'Gwawr Newydd yn Cilio', his  cover of Joy Division's 'New Dawn Fades'. I'm a huge fan of RHR. He covered several JD tracks: get them (legally) here, but don't believe a word of the biography.

Gwawr newydd yn cilio

Finally, some more stately misery. Firstly, June Tabor and Oysterband's rendition. I adore Tabor, but I'm not entirely convinced by this one. After that, Susanna and the Magical Orchestra's sparse, echoing version: good with the lights off.



Another satisfied reader

This delightful missive came straight to my email yesterday!
From: Burst Ovary, bofetot@hotmail.com
Subject: A really important question 
Mm. Charming address. 
Is it true that your interest in fencing lies in the appeal of using a big rapier to make up for having a thimble dick?
Yes! Yes it is! Nobody's ever realised that before. Not even my therapist, whom you'd think would have got there years ago. Judging by the lexical choice, spelling and aggression, this is either a module evaluation or one of my American readers.
Concerning Lard of the Onion Rings (Speaking of food, I bet you get back at Hormel by eating out of the rubbish bin):
Was that colon going anywhere? Have I mentioned Tolkien or onion rings recently? Do you work for Hormel? Are rhetorical questions really annoying? 
Don't flatter yourself into thinking that your shithole has any value that can be tarnished by the author inhabiting it.
This is a bit confusing. I can't work out whether it's me or my environs which are being insulted more here.  
It would benefit the world greatly that the hobbles of butt pirates like you be paved over so that others can drive to better places with less congestion to slow them down.
 Hobbles? Butt pirates? I'm sensing hostility. 
Thanks Detective Dipwit for your knee-jerk work to
ensure that universities in the United Kingdom will be little more than a circle jerk of know it alls.
There's a certain sonority in 'knee-jerk work', but the repetition of 'jerk' subverts the polemical thrust of the accusation. The lack of hyphenation in 'circle jerk' and 'know it alls' implies that the author could do with a little time in the academic circle jerk himself.  
Because names along with addresses can be forged in subversive maneuvering but gay dog porn is more interesting than computer science.
 The logic here defeats me, I must confess. Though the existence of 'gay dog porn' (is that for or about homosexual canines or 1920s bachelor socialites?) is fascinating. As it happens, I have colleagues who work on pornography, whom I shall alert to this new genre. 
On a closing note, Monty Python is a poor excuse for comedy. Bless Tranny Gagger and Maggot Puking with seven years of suck. (That's Terry Gilliams and Michael Palin if your misfiring cerebral processor under that used carpet made of donkey's pubic hair.)
It's not really a closing note: there's another sentence coming. I must inform my close friends Terry and Mike of this challenge forthwith! The very next time we chat over the fence of our Hawaiian compounds. Also, I'm not sure that donkeys have pubic hair. Don't they just have an all-over covering?
Also it would help greatly to remove that flute up your ass given how that terrible facial expression in your portrait outweighs any charm that musical flatulence might have. 
You know, I have been suffering intestinal pain recently. A musical instrument may just explain the discomfort. But the reference to my portrait may indicate a case of mistaken identity: here's the picture accompanying Plashing Vole: he's in no pain whatsoever. 


So: my first troll. A disappointing experience, I feel. The direct email meant that nobody else got to enjoy it. The polemic was disjointed, the lexical choices limited and the underlying themes (anal insertion, homosexuality as a negative, cultural disagreements) banal. Mr (or Ms) Ovary really must try harder. Come on, Burst. Have another go!

Friday, 3 May 2013

Academic publishers – morons.

I spotted what looks like a good book the other day, Biressi and Nunn's Class and Contemporary British Culture. Excellent, I thought. That'll be great for our modules on British Cultural Experiences, Positions (on which I teach a strand about social class) and various other courses spread across English, Cultural Studies, History and Politics. I'll get an inspection copy to check whether it's suitable and hopefully buy several copies for the library.

Think again.
Inspection copies are meant to go to lecturers with a view to recommendation for student purchase. As this is a monograph currently priced at £50, this text would not be suitable and therefore an inspection copy is not applicable on this occasion
Insanity. Perhaps it didn't occur to them that charging £15 per copy might lead to lots of sales. Instead, academic publishers are relying on a very small number of very expensive sales to libraries. I've paid £55 for books quite frequently, and regularly see editions sold at £125, £150, £250 and even £600.

In an era of open scholarship and democracy, this is an insult. I feel sorry for the authors, whose work is destined to be read by a tiny number of people, and I feel sorry for a readership denied access to a fascinating subject. The publishers are lazy and greedy. They've got rid of indexers, editors, proof-readers, and now they can't be arsed to promote what they publish. I'm certain that this book would appeal to enough readers to be viable at £15-20, but that's too much effort. Perhaps they'll say that ther readership is so tiny that decent pricing is impossible: a) not with this title and b) perhaps you should consider your publication choices.

This kind of pricing is a tax on scholarship: without publishing a book, publicly-funded academics don't get REF points, promotion, professional respect, funding and so on, so we're forced to hide our work away when really we want everybody to read it. It's the opposite of what we should be doing.

Nigel Farage's Ham and Eggs.

I wake up this morning to discover that the BBC is hailing UKIP's 'surprise' showing in the local elections, as if there's no connection between Nigel Farage's 14 appearances on Question Time and seeming omnipresence on programmes from The Daily Politics to Peppa Pig. This, despite not having a single MP, unlike the Green Party, Plaid Cymru, the SNP, the SDLP, Respect, the DUP and the UUP.



So today the media is in a frenzy. Who are these UKIP voters? Are they 'just' a protest vote? Will they disappear again? In response, various party hacks and commentators are replying in words of one syllable. Which isn't very helpful: as I say to my students constantly, everything is more complicated and therefore more interesting than it might appear. So here in no particular order and with absolutely no evidence or justification (my degrees are in English and Welsh literature), are my reckons on the UKIP phenomenon.

1. Electorates always look for simple answers, especially in hard times. This is why conservatism thrives to the extent it does: it specialises in reductive pandering. Look at Canadian PM Stephen Harper's quote of the week: now is not the time to 'commit sociology' he said, speaking of some iffy terrorist arrests. Similarly, the anti-climate science lobby world-wide specialises in reductiveness. We had a cold winter, they say. Where's your global warming now? They conjure up images of aloof 'boffins' engaged in some kind of plot against 'business' and 'hard-working families' (and they're usually funded by big business). This is the modus operandi of the Conservative Party of course, but they're at least slightly constrained by being in government. UKIP's entire manifesto is an appeal to the electorate's desire for 'straight answers' and 'common sense': any problem is the fault of 'bureaucrats', 'Brussels', immigrants or 'Bolsheviks'. Complication is the enemy.

This is of course the discourse of hegemony: by not addressing the complexities of any given situation, the status quo is reinforced. Take crime. There's considerable evidence that lead in petrol and other substances severely damaged brain function, and the decline in crime may be partially triggered by the ban on lead (note my left-wing qualifications there). But that's too complicated for the right. They need crime to be a threat, and sanctions to be morally clear. Hang them. Flog them. Bang them up. It's the only language they understand.

Right-wingers are Manichaean. They see the world in black and white, even if their leaders quietly have  a more nuanced view. (Farage is a millionaire currency trader, so clearly has more economic insight than he lets on). This is not new: hard times produce extreme parties - most famously the Nazis but there are plenty of movements more akin to UKIP. Weighing up complexity is hard and boring. Voters don't want to do it. Politicians don't want to do it. They want to pretend that there are simple causes and easy reasons. Who ever won an election with the slogan 'It's Complicated But We'll Do Our Best'? Which leads me to:

2. UKIP might easily be considered the Tea Party of the UK. It's loud, largely supported by older people (whom I suspect split between the Telegraph and the Daily Mail) and incoherent. Famously, the Tea Party calls for the abolition of federal government, while its pensioner supporters draw heavily on federal Medicare and Medicaid to cope with the depredations of private healthcare.

Someone who really doesn't understand where Medicare comes from

It's this refusal to engage with the economic and cultural aspects of life which mark them out as reactionary and as a protest party: imagine a UKIP government trying to decide on a Public Sector Borrowing Rate, or the acceptable level of atmospheric NO2.

All the parties are rushing for the simpleton vote, but UKIP is more explicit. However, they're not the first. There will always be a section of the electorate which yearns for immediate gratification and simplicity. Apart from the Tea Party, there was the Ham and Eggs movement in California, which started off demanding federal pensions, family values and hatred of bankers (shading, unfortunately like Britain's Independent Labour Party, into anti-semitism), and became a minor hard-right lynch mob whose leader was eventually arrested for pro-Nazism as the US became embroiled in WW2.



Ham and Eggs had 'all-girl bands', pep rallies, picnics, chants and songs, as well as a plausible and important original cause. They had a clear message and a sophisticated media strategy, flooding the airwaves with catchy slogans and the message that 'they' were out to get the little man. And just like UKIP, Ham and Eggs had prominent campaigners with shady and often criminal histories. (For more on Ham and Eggs, Starr's Endangered Dreams is an excellent history of California in the Great Depression.

Ham and Eggs weren't alone. We can also look at the Know-Nothing Party, active in the middle decades of the 19th century.



They were even more like UKIP: briefly the most prominent 'nativist' party, they held that America's problem was… immigrants. In particular, Catholic immigrants, especially German and Irish ones, as this Know-Nothing cartoon demonstrates.



Like Northern Ireland's unionists, they believed that Catholicism meant obedience to the Pope and anti-democratic values: these apparently progressive beliefs quickly legitimised racial hatred and reaction. Membership was only open to white Protestant males and most supporters were middle-class. So it was a party founded on reductive, racial stereotypes and an overwhelming sense of paranoia, that 'they' are coming to subvert some apparently core American values.



Just like UKIP appears to be doing, the Know-Nothings or American Party capitalised on the political exhaustion of the established parties and captured a swathe of territory in an upsurge of what we might call protest voting. Voters came from all parties, having rejected the lethargy of established politics in the face of the most pressing political issues: slavery (many Know-Nothings were opposed) and the scourge of alcohol. Yet – and I suspect this is a problem facing UKIP – movements which expand massively in a short space of time are liable to be vulnerable. As UKIP is finding, policy is hard to define off the cuff, while a radicalised membership may produce candidates with seriously extreme views and political histories.

Like UKIP, the Know-Nothing voters were often those of the lower middle class who view the political establishment with considerable suspicion (often rightly) but from the reactionary right. UKIPs voters are social conservatives, rather than radical neoliberal capitalists. Farage is a conundrum here: his fortune is derived from neoliberal capitalism, yet his entire manifesto is a cry of pain at the damage wreaked by it upon Britain and British culture - a contradiction also facing the Conservative Party over the past few decades. He likes a fag (Americans: this means cigarette), a drink, a visit to lap-dancing clubs: he's Jeremy Clarkson's idea of a Bloody Good Bloke, while at the same time being the product of global capitalism.

UKIP's answer is to pretend that there isn't any such contradiction, as is Cameron's. As such, it's insulting: they hope the members and voters don't make the connection between, say, mass unemployment and globalisation, or economic liberalisation and social liberalism or immigration. The only solution is to campaign solely on cultural issues and ignore economics: gay marriage and school curricula press the buttons of conservative voters whereas banking stability doesn't.

My last proto-UKIP is the Poujadist movement. They won't like this one: it's French. But Poujadism is the very essence of UKIPism, expressing the fears and suspicions not of the proletariat, but of the small business classes. Pierre Poujade led the insurrection of the single trader, the small town, the backwater, against the depredations of taxation, distant governments and Big Business. For a short time, his movement was huge, appealing to the classic sense that 'real France' was essentially a France of sleepy towns, community leaders and shopkeepers, all the things being swept away by Capital and modernity. Like UKIP, Poujade appealed to nostalgic reactionaries: ruralism at home and Empire abroad were being abandoned, and his constituency regretted these losses. Yet the Poujadists fell apart because they knew only what they didn't like: modernity. They had no programme other than the magic return to the simple life (the astonishingly stupid basis of almost all post-Independence Irish politics too).

The Know-Nothings fell apart over the issue of slavery in the approach to the Civil War: like any American Party with national aspirations, the cultural and economic divide between its Southern and Northern aspects was too great to bridge. Ham and Eggs were a one-issue party which collapsed in the face of other political issues. The Poujadists only opposed the modern world.

Will this happen to UKIP? My suspicion is that – like the BNP before it – the burden of responsibility will break it to some extent. BNP councillors were manifestly unprepared for the necessary drudgery of political work. Once you're in power, you can't blame unemptied bins, budgetary tensions and bus route problems on 'Europe' or 'immigrants'. Farage et al. appeal to the Golf Club constituency: those blow-hards who repeat Daily Mail nostrums over a stiff gin-and-tonic to other people like them without the slightest concern for other perspectives, classes and values ('stand to reason' is their slogan). UKIP's older, suaver, more middle-class appeal will continue to attract conservative voters through its populist, anti-elitist politics, and I do worry that it will operate as a ginger group, perpetually forcing the Conservative Party to tack even harder right and in the process shifting the entire political spectrum.

Personally, I don't get UKIP, but I'm not in their target demographic. I'm a metropolitan liberal. I think that the EU, for all its faults, has protected the British worker against the worst instincts of British governments, Labour and Tory: working time, health and safety, rights to organise, human rights etc. etc. Which is very sad.

I'm not nostalgic for empire (my Irish passport prevents that). I don't think that the British Empire – or any other empire – was a force for good. I like the complexities of modern life. For instance, I once asked a UKIP candidate why he wasn't a Welsh or Scottish nationalist. After all, he'd explained to me that super-states were wrong, that 'Brussels' was distant and uncaring about the fringes, that a federal currency couldn't take into account local economic needs. OK, I said. Isn't the UK a 'super-state'? A single language has been imposed. A single currency and interest rates which serve the needs of the City of London aren't suitable for Tredegar or Clydeside. The UK government didn't reflect the votes cast by Scotland or Wales. Nobody in Wales or Scotland voted for the Union. The response was a confused stutter which took in a weird amalgam of something called Britishness which seemed to be unquestionable, and promoted the Empire as the fruits of these combined nations. Oh, I said. So you do like some super-states, like the Empire? You just want to be in charge of one rather than participating in one. The conversation ended without further examination of the substantive issues.

UKIP's appeal is in telling simple narratives to a constituency which really believes in a selective view of the past. It harks back to empire, to social stability, to conservative truths. Its ideal world is suburban, white, heterosexual and suspicious of change. It provides simple causes to complicated problems. Europe. Immigration. Cosmopolitan gays. (For a vision of the UKIP nation and an exploration of the neoliberal/social conservative tensions in the Tories, I strongly recommend you read Julian Barnes' wonderful novel England, England)As such, it attracts not just Conservatives and BNP voters, but conservatives from all parties and classes. Don't forget that Labour has a large anti-European streak, though its roots are in socialist suspicion that the EU is a capitalist plot. Former Labour voters disillusioned with the party's other policies may not make the distinction between left Anti-Europeanism and UKIP's version, and working-class Labourism has always been socially conservative. There's a huge constituency out there which sees Westminster politics as elitist and disconnected: they want their atavistic beliefs represented, and UKIP is the ideal vehicle. Simply put, it's Top Gear friendly, the political wing of Littlejohn's You Couldn't Make It Up reactionary suspicion. However, I do think that the burden of office will expose them and their ideas quite quickly.

That said: what happens in the meantime? The Tories will try to recover UKIP's voters by fuelling xenophobia and other dangerous far-right instincts, despite the reservations of their globalist wing. Labour, I fear will do the same, as it has at every opportunity for 30 years. New Labour is particularly guilty of this. Having never met or come from the working classes, its policies clearly assumed that they were all closet racists who required appeasement, and I don't think this has changed much, though I do think Ed Miliband's a bit cleverer than this. Instead of trying to persuade voters to change, Labour repeatedly decided to pander. It's a failure of leadership and responsibility. Yes, many voters are concerned about immigration, Europe and so on: often because cynical newspapers and parties have seen these as easy buttons to press. But I happen to think that the British electorate largely isn't racist, isn't paranoid, isn't reactionary and is capable of sophisticated responses to social and political problems.

The only problem is: which party will dare to be the first to test this theory that voters are grown-ups?

Anyway, sorry for the long rant/lecture. I'm no more politically astute than anyone else, and of course everything I say is informed by my privileged position. But I thought you might be interested in the background and history.

Thursday, 2 May 2013

Speaking ill of the dead

Over the past few weeks, right-wing newspapers have made it clear that anyone who so much as murmurs objections to St Margaret Thatcher's biography (kitten-lover, washed the feet of the poor every evening, sent every miner a postal order on their birthdays, always the last to leave St. Patrick's Day ceilidhs) is a damned traitor who should be hung in Trafalgar Square and is bloody rude too.

In my ongoing attempt to point out that political discourse in modern Britain is politer than in any previous period, here's an obituary:


The subject is King George IV, spendthrift, hypocrite and bigot. He was ridiculed in life and damned in death by all and sundry. I find it hard to imagine a mainstream newspaper being quite so pungent about any royal or politician these days… even Prince Andrew or Tony Blair. 

Despite building the magnificent Royal Pavilion in Brighton (which the racist English Defence League recently mistook for a Mosque.



the only way George is at all remembered is as a foppish moron in his years as Prince Regent, memorialised so gloriously by Hugh Laurie in Blackadder the Third


Wednesday, 1 May 2013

Down at the PFA

Imagine the scene. Somewhere in a Surrey 'gated community' (we can discuss the contradictory nature of that phrase some other time). The house is littered with Xboxes, Bentley keys, modelling agency directories (some entries ticked off and marked with ungallant comments), diamond-encrusted watches, cufflinks and belt buckles, hair products and decorative women.

Welcome to the headquarters of the Professional Footballers' Association.

Seated at the table facing a conference phone are several aristocrats of the game: Luis Suarez, John Terry, Wayne Rooney, Carlos Tevez and several other gentlemen of impeccable reputation. They are gathered together to address a disgraceful episode in the game's history.

The telephone is answered. A deep, graceful voice reverberates around the room.

'Good morning. Reginald D Hunter at your service. How may I help you?'
'Hola, Reg. Is Luis here. Luis Suarez. I've got John, Carlos and Wayne here too'
'Hey Luis! What can I do for you guys?
'Well, Reg, we're, well, a little bit upset about your act last night at the PFA dinner.
'Oh yeah? You folks objected to my gags about your taxes and failure to operate the channels in the final third of the game?'
'Not really, Mr Hunter. It's just that all those uses of the 'n-word' really offended me as a modern cosmopolitan role model. I know John here agrees with me 110%'.
'Facking right I do! You should have seen the expression on my Chevy when I heard that stuff. There's no place for filth like that in the modern game, me old China'.
'Yeah, an' all that language la' - bang out of order. Me mam and Colleen might have been watchin' We've gorra reputation to protect la' '.
'An Reg-in-ald. We are muy unhappy about your fee for last night. That much dinero for 45 minutes. We want the money back and the phone number of your agent. Comprende?
'Luis?'
'¿Si, Reg?
'Bite me'.

And with that, the phone goes dead.

Tuesday, 30 April 2013

Entering the Bullshit Zone

A lot of you may think that my life is pretty damn sweet. I get paid a decent wage for talking about books and ideas. Books and ideas that I'd talk about for free in the pub or on park benches were I not paid to do so within the confines of bad architecture. 

But like the rest of you, academia has been poisoned by the discourses of self-help, marketing, capitalism and all the other snake-oil bullshitters inexplicably given prime-time TV shows and acres of broadsheet print. 

Take this conference:


Entrepreneurial Education & Innovation: Developing Entrepreneurial Mindset for Knowledge Economy – explore the global eco-system of entrepreneurial mind-sets and high growth strategies in innovation. 

OK, it's not grammatical. But more than that: it's an offence to education and humanist values. Norman Fairclough himself would have a heart attack trying to swallow this rubbish. I particularly object to the implication that 'knowledge' is the key. I'd have thought that facts were less important than philosophy. Forget the tabloid Philistines' open and honest contempt for education: the real barbarians are inside the gates, mocking and sneering at us. 

Let's look more closely at what this might mean. 
The Entrepreneurial Innovation Conference… will address the need for an entrepreneurial mind-set in those countries wishing to compete successfully in the global market. 

No. The closest I can get is 'scoop up some suits from an airport and ask for their Alan Sugar-esque insights, because we all know that capitalism is the product of individual genius, don't we?'. I can't even begin to think what 'high-growth innovation' is. I didn't think innovation was a measurable commodity.  
Well, I think the last few years have proved that globalisation, capitalism and entrepreneurship have saved the world's economy. Look at Bernie Madoff, Rich Ricci, Alan Sugar himself (though not too closely): shining examples of sustainable and equitable development. Oh, hang on a minute. 

But I'm being mean. They're not all snake-oil salesmen. Look who's coming to dinner:

The conference will be chaired by professional speaker, moderator and author Roy Sheppard ensuring a slick, interactive and entertaining day (and night!)  “He’s also our dinner speaker!”  

Indeed: his after-dinner speech is 'How to be Upbeat in a Downbeat World!'

You can always tell you're getting a sober analyst by the presence of italicised bold complete with quotation and exclamation marks. I think it's worth quoting Roy's CV at length because it tells you what this pseudo-academic event is really like and for.


Roy Sheppard is a specialist international conference moderator and business speaker working with countless global organisations at the C-suite level. He has moderated numerous global conferences and summits for the Olympic movement and has worked extensively in the IT, pharmaceutical, oil and gas, retail real estate and tobacco sectors.  
A trained therapist and former BBC broadcaster, Roy is knowledgeable, funny, inspirational and thought-provoking.  
Roy is the 'conscience of the audience' and he sees his role as ensuring delegates and guests gain maximum value from attending the event. He has been a visiting lecturer at Cranfield and Henley and is also the author of various relationship books. 
His most recent, to be published in July 2013, are for all 15 to 25 year olds; Dear Son: what I wish I'd known at your age and Dear Daughter: what I wish I'd known at your age. 
Roy’s books include:
-  Dear Son: what I wish I’d known at your age
 
Dear Daughter: what I wish I’d known at your age 
How to Be The One. This book explains how to be a better girlfriend, boyfriend, husband or wife for your existing partner, or for ‘the one’ you have yet to meet 
Meet Greet & Prosper. A handy pocketbook on the essential skills of networking. FREE COPY FOR ALL DINNER GUESTS 
- Rapid Result Referrals. How to turn your contacts into customers by using ethical word-of-mouth techniques and strategies.  

So not only is Roy not an academic, he is – inevitably – a 'therapist'. Is he a qualified therapist? Who knows? His qualifications aren't exactly trumpeted on his website. All we know is that he happily works for the most sinister corporate sectors in existence. And lucky attendees get his book Meet Greet and Prosper for free! Anyone who says it's a rewrite of perennial losers' manual How To Make Friends And Influence People is just a cynic. 

But it could be worse: at least he's not handing out copies of another of his self-published books, That Bitch: Protect Yourself Against Women with Malicious Intent, co-authored by Mary Cleary.  

So, who's going to this conference? Well, apart from any of my colleagues (we've all been invited), it's aimed at:

all strategic decision makers from across the globe

which makes me feel pretty darned important and entrepreneurial, let me tell you.  

Still, it could be worse. UCL hosted a conference on 'resilience', which I suspect would have cost you many hundreds of pounds. 

ISRS is due to hold its inaugural conference on 13 November 2012, entitled “Building an Ethos of Resilience: A new Manifesto for Business.”  
The purpose of the conference is to assess how individuals, organisations and societies can build resilience to crises. In the modern interdependent, networked world, crises are now the norm not the exception. Without understanding the true nature and reasons for these events, the risk of continued vulnerability remains. This conference will unpick the complexities that give rise to crises and offer practical and deliverable solutions to those seeking to tackle the crucial task of building resilience. 
Resilience to crises is the key to the fitness of organisations in our uncertain times. This is a working event for business leaders, civil servants and academics to help guests develop practical ideas to take back into their own environment so that they can build greater personal and organisational resilience.

Who's there to tell you about 'resilience' and explain why 'crises are now the norm' (which seems closely allied to the Shock Doctrine of paramilitary capitalism)?
Tony Blair – the importance of resilience in leaders
Oh OK. That's one war criminal millionaire. Who else?
Michael Gove – education is the foundation
And a man with a personal grudge against intellect. Next?
John Reid – placing resilience at the heart of your strategy 
One of the most reactionary and knuckle-headed New Labour apparatchiks, now making large amounts of money from security firms (which he never mentions on TV). Spoil me more!
John Browne – constant innovation 
Would that be the John Browne who perjured himself in court and had to resign in disgrace? The one then employed to essentially privatise Higher Education? Why yes, it is! 

Who else? Well, a lot of shills, and then one other speaker who caught my eye. Why, it's internationally-acclaimed critical management studies guru… Ross Kemp! Yes, the former 'actor' of EastEnders fame.  


REF star Ross Kemp in action
Sadly, my informant informs me that neither the press nor the public were admitted into UCL's ivory tower to discover what this motley crew of criminals, thugs and ITV4 stars could tell us about 'resilience', but I'm sure it was worth every penny. 

So when you imagine me scratching away with a quill on parchment to bring the world the latest insights into 1930s Welsh writing, remember this: I'm 'going forward' with 'entrepreneurial' zeal into the  'knowledge economy'. I'm a 'global thought leader'. I'm innovative. I'm…crying, head down on my desk as I think of the days when universities weren't complicit in selling people lies. 

Monday, 29 April 2013

Ughpal

My least favourite MP and yours, Mr Paul Uppal, excelled himself in the smarm and self-interest stakes this week. Here he is, rooting for massive tax cuts for his corporate friends and grovelling to his Tory overseers:

It is a pleasure to serve under your chairmanship, Mr Amess. On a confessional point, you were my mentor in the last general election and in no short part do I hold my presence in this Committee and in this august chamber down to your guidance. I am for ever in your debt.
On the specific point that my hon. Friend was making about the simplification of tax, does he welcome, as I do, the fact that reducing corporation tax to 20% will actually make corporation tax much more consistent? We currently have a top rate of tax for large companies, and for small companies there is an intermediate and marginal rate. The fact that we are reducing it to 20% in one swoop is, in essence, making the corporation tax system as a whole much simpler.
That's right: 'simpler'. So it's not a massive gift to companies which in any case avoid paying taxes on an industrial scale, it's just 'simpler'. Of course, you could have a 'simple' corporation tax of 30% or 40% too (like income tax), but that would be to breach the bounds of rightwing discourse. When they say 'simple',  they mean 'lower' for tax and 'none' for environmental, health, safety, equality, discrimination and employment law. 

What else has he been saying?
his debate reminds me of my time on the Welfare Reform Bill Committee, where there seemed to be a general consensus on both sides that whatever the nature of jobs, even part-time micro jobs, they are an essential step in getting people out of poverty and into the habit of work. Moreover, many part-time jobs lead on to full-time jobs, so it is a win-win situation for everybody.
Yes, he slaved for years on that Committee, and all he has to show for it is a belief in 'part-time micro job' and a completely unsupported assertion that 'many part-time jobs lead on to full-time jobs'. Which is almost certainly untrue: both here at the university and in the service sector as a whole, the new poison is 0-hours contracts, which leave you in limbo. You might be called in to work, but you might not. You can't get a second job because it might stop you doing random hours on your first one. Pizza Hut is one such disgusting exploiter. They're the kinds of jobs people are getting these days. As a nation, we should be proud. 

And finally:
I represent an urban west midlands seat, where I hold a weekly surgery. Something that comes up again and again for many of my constituents, who are in this age group, is the generational deficit. If we do not live prudently and within our means as a Government it is the younger generation, the children of those constituents, who will have to pay. Have the Opposition done an impact assessment on the people who will have to pay the bill? 
That's a weekly surgery 'by appointment', lasting 2 hours. When he talks of the generational deficit, he's quietly referring to the constituents he hopes will save him: the rich pensioners on the western edge of the city, people who like to think that they got rich entirely on their own. Paul, like them, got a free education, healthcare, and all the other advantages of the social-democratic state. Now they want to remove it for the younger generations while protecting their own non-means-tested TV licences and bus passes. 

If Paul wants to live 'within our means as a Government', why is he cutting corporate taxes, cutting high-earners' taxes, and voting to spend £80 billion on new nuclear weapons? Why did he connive in the sacking of thousands of tax collectors, while allowing the Big Four accountancy firms to write new legislation?

No, what Paul wants is a Dickensian society in which poverty is associated with personal failure. No safety net, no human rights (he's opposed to them too) and no society. All dressed up in the discourse of prudence. 

Thankfully, Paul won't be an MP much longer. He has a majority of 691, acquired running against Gordon Brown's unpopularity. If that's the best he could do in 2010, I don't think he'll be troubling the public after 2015. 

Talking of revolting Tory hypocrites, guess who I spotted at the train station yesterday? Camera crew, sneer, revolting pink blazer?

Don't know who took the picture: nicked from a local Facebook site. 

Yes, Michael Portillo, making another of his programmes about how great railways were until his government sold them off. Was he in town to apologise for the destruction wrought on the city by his neoliberal economics? Don't hold your breath.

Friday, 26 April 2013

Friday!

What a weird Friday. My post about the True Blue Cookery Book made The Guardian, to the amusement of my colleagues. The university got restructured to general disbelief and horror (sorry: the new structure will be put to Academic Board, just like Kim Jong-un's election was a close-run thing). I've had a steady stream of panicking dissertation students coming in for last-minute advice. And now the National Library of Wales is on fire. I hope my friends working there and all my lovely books, manuscripts and archives are OK.

In general, I'm feeling like this:



whereas I'd like to be feeling like this (as would the dissertation kids):



Or indeed this:



On the plus side, lots of good books have come today. I've dumped Amazon for new books because they don't pay their taxes, which feels excellent. I've received Kevin Barry's Dark Lies The Island, short stories by the author of the excellent City of Bohane, Tristan Hughes's Revenant to complete the set; Tim Armstrong's Scots Gaelic SF novel Air Cuan Dubh Drilseach (On A Glittering Black Sea), Nick Barclay's literary/crime classic Hooky Gear, Melvin Burgess's new drugs/death YA novel The Hit  and the latest in Simon Morden's Petrovich series, The Curve of the Earth, which annoyingly doesn't have the same lovely uniform design as the previous three. Damn you, marketers!

Thursday, 25 April 2013

Save Abu Qatada

I'd have thought this was obvious, but judging by my Twitter feed, it isn't. So here we go again, in simple words. 

The Conservatives want to export Abu Qatada to Jordan, where evidence obtained under torture will be used to imprison or execute him. 

Four objections to torture: 
1. It's immoral.
2. It's illegal.
3. If you don't like 1 or 2, try this: it doesn't work. People will say anything to make it stop. 
4. If you do it to your enemies, your enemies will do it to your people. Once Britain openly supports torture (rather than simply practicing it, as currently), nobody can object when British people are tortured elsewhere. 

The Conservatives are thinking of temporarily suspending the UK's membership of the European Convention on Human Rights (largely drafted by British lawyers) so that they can send Qatada away. Again, in simple terms, here's why that's a bad idea. 

Currently, the ECHR says this:

No one shall be subjected to torture or to inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment. 
Nice and simple. Not 'No one nice'. 

1. Human rights are acquired by being human. There's nothing in the concept which adds 'unless we don't like you'. That's the point of universal human rights: everybody's got them. Someone tweeted that you have to shoulder responsibilities to gain rights. Wrong. Babies have human rights. People with mental health issues have human rights. Rapists and genocidal maniacs have human rights. 

It's like this: to be a civilisation, you have to behave in a civilised fashion. If you decide that you'll behave in the same way as a genocidal maniac, you've resigned as a nation/state/entity from civilisation. The mark of a civilised polity is how it treats the worst people, not how comfortable the lives of the conformists may be. A nation which tolerates the vilest people is a great nation. 

2. Once we decide that human rights can be switched on and off like a tap, where do we stop? Today, cartoon beardy terrorist sympathisers. Tomorrow: Basque nationalists. The day after: student protesters in need of a kicking, secondary picketers, badger cull saboteurs, the unemployed and roads protesters. Then a leftwing government might decide that if huntsmen torture foxes on video, they don't need the right to a fair trial or a lawyer. Perhaps we'll decide that the BNP, who don't believe in human rights, don't deserve to benefit from them. And so on until rights are reserved only for golfers and 'decent chaps' who don't make a fuss.

Personalised law is no law at all.

And Qatada? We're constantly being told he's Al-Qaeda's representative in Europe, that he's a dangerous terrorist mastermind. If so, he's committed multiple crimes: the UK has instituted the most draconian legislation in judicial history over the past 20 years: Orwell's 'thoughtcrime' is pretty much a reality. Put him on trial (although I suspect he's unlikely to get a fair trial in this country, given the government and media coverage thus far). Sending him to Jordan for an unfair trial because 'he must be guilty of something' isn't justice, it's blind reaction. Not coincidentally, when I did jury service, the forewoman said to us all 'He must be guilty because he doesn't look sorry'. Laugh? I almost cried. 

Unless, of course, he's nothing more than a vicious, reactionary peddler of hate. In which case, argue with him, spy on him, ridicule him: just don't subvert one of the pillars of civilised society simply for the satisfaction of having one horrible little man murdered in some torture cell by a puppet state. I can't think of an easier way of proving to his supporters that he was right all along. 

Seriously people: grow up. Being a scumbag doesn't mean you deserve to be murdered. If you think it does, you're a moral pygmy.

My life in rock and roll

It's not – as you may have assumed – all work work work here at Uppal Towers. I've been dealing with the influx of nervous dissertation students by going to gigs and dancing like a madman. I've seen five acts in two days: it's like being young again, if I ignore the ringing in the ears and tortured knees.

The first gig was in the local flea-pit, The Slade Room, where I've previously seen luminaries like Julian Cope, the Primitives and, er, The Nightingales. On the £6 bill: There's Someone In The Pond, a band whose name I didn't catch, and Dingus Khan. In the audience: about 50 people, dwindling to 12 by the time Dingus gave in.

TSITP are new and fun: once you ignore the matching red shirts declaring a White Stripes/Franz Ferdinand/Kraftwerk affiliation, you get raucous, funny garage rock with occasional tinges of metal and blues. Big dollops of the Pixies, Throwing Muses and the B-52s. Songs about taxi drivers abound. Female singing drummer. A Philippa Collins, if you will. So: a good start.

Un-named local band were either amazing, or awful. It all depends on your point of view. If you like songs that sound like Ocean Colour Scene, played with astonishing technical proficiency by three young men who have done little other than comb through Britpop C-list B-sides and practice relentlessly, then they're amazing. If you like songs with something to say, unexpected chord changes, spontaneity, fun and a bit of edge, then they're awful. I fall into the latter camp: all that skill misused. Between that and the cheesy attempts at audience participation, they'll be doing covers at wedding receptions before the year is out.

And then we get to Dingus Khan. I genuinely cannot tell you whether they were brilliant or bollocks. There were 7 men on stage. 6 wore painters' overalls. One wore a dress. 3 of them were drummers, 2 of them bassists, one a guitarist, one played an electric mandolin. On stage with them: a inflatable swan and a 1990s fax machine. They looked – and behaved – like a student drama society pitching up at the Edinburgh festival, and they were having an enormously good time. Perhaps a better time than the audience, which rapidly dwindled until it was barely bigger than the band.



The problem was the relentless semi-musical assault, which the video above doesn't convey, though it is their best song. They sounded like a cassette bootleg of a Pavement gig, copied over and over and over and over again, plus added sound effects from a steelworks. There were words, but I have no idea what any of them were. No light and shade was the problem: 40 minutes of maximum volume, and every song (or whatever) at exactly the same speed. Exhilarating, but also massively self-indulgent. I'm afraid to say that I skipped the opportunity to have a drink with them afterwards, for fear of reacting violently to exuberant youth. I'm allergic to both 'wacky' and 'zany'.

So, on to last night. Off to the Glee Club in Birmingham, for another gig by one of my longstanding musical addictions, Low. On paper, a rock band comprising two Mormons (one a recovering drug addict) might not sound that enticing, but they are and always have been superb. They have two of the best voices in music, and their repetitive, hypnotic, slow-paced, ethereal, stately songs offer a profundity that most bands will never approach. Oh yes: another singing female drummer. More please!

I first saw Low a few weeks after being exiled to the West Midlands, having been a long-time devotee. In an upstairs room in a semi-derelict pub, so many people crammed in that sweat dripped from the ceiling. The only way to get a drink was to pass £5 through the crowd: 20 minutes later most of a pint would get back to you, the rest cooling the bald spots of your fellow gig-goers as it passed over their heads. The performance was equally intense, to the point of being transcendent.

The support act was a chap called Hebtronix. He lacked any stage presence entirely: I thought he was the roadie when he got up, after which it became clear that we were witnessing something between a therapy session and a much-needed cathartic breakdown. Armed only with a guitar and a sampler which he used to loop said guitar, he created claustrophobic, off-kilter tracks overlaid with the occasional self-hating lyric. Strange as it might be, I rather enjoyed it once I got over the initial pity and concern for the mental health of this special needs Frank Zappa.

But Low, Low were something else. Intense, committed and beautiful. Here are a few of their recent songs - they've been going for over 20 years, so I can't represent their many phases.







Moving on Uppal

You may have noticed that I haven't devoted much space recently to the egregious Paul Uppal MP, the secretive millionaire. The fact is, he's been idle even by his own low standards. Or rather, perhaps, he's been weaselling away on his own advancement behind the scenes. Beyond posting the usual press releases from HQ with his name inserted, he appears to have done nothing: not even a word about the death of St Margaret. 

But worry not, Uppalians! Here he is, emerging from the woodwork in the most august of Tory company. For lo! David Cameron, fearful of the wrath of his own party – many of whom think he's a slippery customer with less concern for their needs than a cat for its fleas – has announced a new Conservative Policy Board. Drawing on the wide experience and varied background of his MPs, the board is to be led by one Jo Johnson: white, male, Boris's brother, attended Eton, Oxford and joined the Bullingdon Club just like David. And George. And Boris. So another bold move towards diversity there. Who else is on this panel of Gargoyles? Peter Lilley, arch-Thatcherite, oil company director, foe of climate science and all-round bad egg (John Major referred to him as a 'bastard'). Jesse Norman, who passes for an intellectual in the Tory Party, which is like being the tallest dwarf. A bunch of other no-marks, and finally, Paul Uppal
who accompanied the prime minister on his recent visit to the Golden Temple in Amritsar
What's Paul's qualification? Is it his shining intellect? Is it his fierce independence of mind and political courage? I think not. I'm sad to say that the Guardian's explanation of who he is (apparently some people don't read Plashing Vole) unconsciously hits the spot. Fine individual our Paul may be, but I rather suspect that he serves another purpose. You may not have noticed, but Dave's mates all seem to be… how shall I put this?… rather pale. They're all white, rich, aging and virtually all men. He needs, says Central Office, some minority friends. Nobody who'll scare the horses with, you know, opinions. Just somebody who'll make the photos look a bit more diverse. When we say 'all your friends are Etonians', you can point at Paul, with his poor degree from Warwick University, a man who speculated his way to millions rather than inheriting it, and brush off the critics.

When you're running a de facto racist administration, you need some minority faces to sell the policy. Labour did the same: whenever an Iraqi was tortured, a refugee was sent off to his death by the immigration agency, or civil liberties were withdrawn for minority groups, up popped Vaz, Malik, Khan and a small band of other careerists. 

And so we arrive at Paul. He's Asian. He holds (with a majority of 691) a grubby constituency which doesn't look like Surrey. He'll do. The fact that he's a grovelling loyalist without even the evolutionary ancestor of a spine is an added bonus. He knows which way his bread's buttered. He can make speeches claiming to represent Sikhs, ethnic minorities and urban Conservatives all the way to 2015. Then he'll lose his seat and get a place in the House of Lords, subsidised for the rest of his life while he makes self-serving and let's say 'inaccurate' pronouncements on all and sundry.

Everyone's a winner. Except the country, obviously. 

Thanks to Ali Brown, who spotted Paul's elevation at 6 a.m. this morning and writes an excellent blog

Wednesday, 24 April 2013

What's that? A Device for the Apprehension of Ne'er-do-wells?

The good Professor Elemental has a task: the execution of the United Kingdom's new spying-on-absolutely-everyone-for-ever law:



Brought to you, of course, by the two parties elected on a strong platform of Civil Liberties and an end to New Labour's authoritarianism. In a hilarious twist worthy of Kafka, the government has refused to reveal some of the details of the law… i.e. the ones inhabited by the Devil. Clearly surveillance is only for the likes of us, not those who rule us.

What's wrong with this picture?

As you may know, I'm an enthusiastic Twitterer. I follow and converse with all sorts of people: journalists, academics, readers, politicians and anonymous interesting people. I've found it invaluable in my academic work and in helping political campaigns. It's also a great outlet for my sarcastic and unfunny one-liners.

But the strengths of Twitter are also its weaknesses. Speed is a strength, but also a serious weakness, particularly in the case of breaking news. Yesterday, someone hacked Associated Press's feed, announcing a bombing in the White House. Cue panic on the stock markets. In the aftermath of the Boston bombing, thousands of Twitterers posted pictures of Sunil Tripathi, claiming him to be a suspect: one racist assumption led to the demonisation of a man guilty of nothing more than being brown in a public space. He is now missing, and some news outlets are claiming that police think a body pulled from a river could be his.

A few months ago, a Conservative lord was named in thousands of Tweets as a predatory paedophile without a shred of evidence. On a lighter note, last week saw liberal Twitterers claiming that the Sun was faking pictures of the Thatcher funeral crowd, because a building in the background looked like the unfinished Shard, which opened months ago. In fact, it was another building entirely.

So we know that the desire to jump on a bandwagon can – maliciously or not – lead to terrible consequences. Twitter isn't the forum for mature reflection: it's about instantaneous, widely-disseminated reaction. In the hands of non-professional news-gatherers, it should be accorded the same reliability as gossip overheard in the pub: sometimes true, often inaccurate, usually fascinating.

But professional news organisations have a different duty. In the days when newspapers appeared weekly, then daily, writers had the opportunity to investigate a story, establish the facts, consider the implications. 24 hour news sped up the process, and errors started to creep in, as well as hoaxes taking advantage of the media's desperation to fill up the space. Getting there first became far more important than getting things right. Where TV goes, newspapers follow – on the internet, there's little distinction.

Which brings me to the Daily Mail. Its owner, Lord Rothermere, whose Wiltshire mansion is actually in France for tax purposes (very patriotic), said this to Journalism Weekly:
Twitter is a major form of primary source material for us and the guys on Mail Online try and turn around stories from Twitter in about three minutes. So the timeliness of news is becoming much more important and journalists have to learn a lot more different skills in understanding that – and they are.
Sadly, the noble Lord fails to explain what these skills are. But this statement worries me. Certainly Twitter is a useful network, but it can only be a secondary source. As far as I'm aware, journalists' jobs include going out there to find stories. But in Rothermere's model, the stories come to people sitting at HQ.

The idea that a news story can be researched, verified and written in three minutes is antithetical to the notion of informative journalism. There's no reflection, no consideration of implications – not even time for a phone call to verify, or to check a story with the in-house lawyers. It leaves the newspaper entirely vulnerable to the whims of a mischievous public. There's no actual journalism at play: simply desperate reaction to whatever's caught the eye of the Twittersphere.

If I were running a newspaper, on- or off-line, I'd be running a mile from this rubbish. Sure, it gets lots of people clicking on the Mail's misogynistic website, and makes the advertisers very happy. But in this race to the bottom, the Mail can only lose over the long term. A newspaper should play to its strengths: verified news, supported by informed comment by experts written when the facts are in. Any idiot can spread rumours, whereas a newspaper has the people and resources to be authoritative (if it wants to be). Otherwise it's just a shell and a list of hyperlinks with no authority whatsoever. More than that: the Mail's new model is dangerous. It leads to witch-hunts, panics and untruths. No doubt the Mail is careful to use lots of 'according to' and 'claims that', but they'll be legally responsible for whatever they print. Their lawyers must be terrified by Rothermere's new approach.

But the truth is that the Mail and papers like the Mail don't care. They want hits: if that means error and distortion, so be it.