Wednesday, 5 February 2020

The Case Against Centrism



A commonly voiced refrain during times of intensifying partisanship and social division is the need to rediscover the political centre. There's undeniable appeal to the idea. Even as we are encouraged by social and legacy media to pick a political side and rigidly stick to it, if any consensus exists across both sides of the aisle, it is frustration at the anger and impulsiveness underpinning much of modern discourse.

Here we face a Catch-22. To minds radicalised in these polarised times, those with different politics are the enemy, to be destroyed at all costs, even though secretly we'd like to negotiate a truce. Unfortunately, as the other side is malicious and dishonest, the suggestion of conciliation would surely be seized upon to destroy us. Whether we admit it or not, this thinking is motivated by the knowledge that if our side were offered a truce, we'd seize the opportunity to destroy them, too.

The result is an inverted form of Mutually Assured Destruction, where both sides act in a manner assuring ongoing warfare and ensuring against the possibility of peace. Centrists thus argue that it is not for one side to reach out to the other, but both to do so simultaneously. The left and right have adopted many of each other's core beliefs over the years and are not as far apart as extremists would have us believe. The centre-left believes in free markets and border security, but also protection for society's poorest and fairness in the immigration system. The centre-right is increasingly favourable towards diversity and expanding closed institutions to a wider variety of people, but also believes in the core value of those institutions and practising caution in widespread social change to avoid disruption and unrest. Compromise is not just the rational course of action, but a realistic one.

Centrism has usually manifested in government in the form of social liberalism and economic conservatism. Markets are allowed to flourish with only light-touch regulation, responding dynamically to the needs of the people in a way government never could. A government's role is to ensure a competitive environment in which businesses can thrive, and to offer a step up to those without the means to get their foot on the ladder. Increased social openness means a broader marketplace for businesses to compete in, while institutions such as the church are encouraged to modernise to meet the demands of changing times, while given protections to ensure their centrality in the sometimes fractious debate over society's spiritual progression. Everybody wins, but nobody wins completely.

This was the approach of two of the most successful centrist governments of recent times, the Clinton administration in the United States and the Blair premiership in the United Kingdom. The underlying theory was that of public choice, meaning the adoption of game theory economics as a way of managing traditionally political problems. Public choice posits that every individual is driven primarily by self-interest, expressed as a desire to maximise their economic success. Ideas such as altruism or working for the public good are considered 'romantic and illusory'.
  
 
James Buchanan and Gordon Tullock's 1962 book, The Calculus of Consent, the foundational text on the philosophy of public choice, states that the capacity of democratically elected politicians to accurately reflect or be held accountable to the desire of their voters is extremely limited. The free market, on the other hand, is capable of instantaneously reacting to the desires of every individual participating in it, making it a superior system for organising society. According to Buchanan and Tullock, social changes occur not as a result of the interaction between groups, but the motivations of rational individuals. The theory suggest that every self-interested individual optimises their decision-making against the actions of others, a miniature Cold War between each member of society. What emerges is a society at once highly dynamic and completely stable, with everyone adapting to each other's strategies.

The problem is that defining individuals as 'rational' means assuming their behaviour is entirely predictable and their choices, based solely on the criteria of long-term utility maximisation, always correct. In practical terms, not only do people frequently make irrational, short-term choices, and choices based on factors far broader than their own success, but each individual actor possesses an unequal amount of power, allowing some greater control in consolidating their advantages and limiting others from competing fairly. Thus, while the economies of the Western nations boomed, wages for those in the middle or bottom of society stagnated or declined in real terms, and social mobility came to a standstill. When the subprime mortgage market collapsed in 2007, resulting in a financial crisis whose effects endure to this day, the flaws of the system were laid bare.

One might reasonably argue that the failure of one form of centrism in the recent past does not mean all forms are destined to fail. Public choice was a very specific manifestation of the centrist ethos, tending to the centre-right rather than the centre-left. Could it not be the case that a different centrism might succeed where the previous one failed?

It is tempting to think so. Under a different set of circumstances, a revised form of centrism may provide the stability and reasoned debate so lacking in today's politics. Unfortunately, as Marxists tend to discover, we do not live in the utopian future; we live in the chaotic now. Compromise and consensus are invaluable tools, but limited in their capacity to lead meaningful change when the system is not working as it ought. It is easy to forget that not so long ago, a chief criticism of politicians was that they were all the same. In Britain, as recently as 2015 an election was fought between David Cameron (Conservative) and Ed Miliband (Labour), candidates so similar in message and appearance that Futurama's vision of political campaigning in the year 3000 seemed to have come true 985 years early.
  
 
In times of instability, extremists on the left and right are energised by offering the leadership and focused vision for the future which centrism by its nature cannot. What Buchanan and Tullock saw as the weakness of government is in actuality its strength. Because politicians are less directly accountable and reflective of the desires of their constituents, such concerns become only one factor in a broader consideration of the direction in which society needs to be guided. A wise government is informed by its constituents, but not exclusively guided by them, affording greater leeway to give direction when times are bad.

This is why we elect representatives. Public choice interpreted politics as being nothing more than a series of miniature referenda on every possible issue, dictated by the sum consensus of every individual making up the marketplace. What resulted was a society unable to see the wood for the trees. As one might expect of a system designed by economists, the only role government played was to ensure the system remained stable. Without any big picture oversight, stability simply meant the flaws in the system went unrecognised because nothing had collapsed, until it all did, spectacularly.

Public choice posits human beings as mechanical and predictable, with stability being the first and last measure of their societies' success. In reality, societies are irrational, ever-changing and require periods of instability to adapt to the requirements of changing times. It is difficult and perhaps cruel to speak of the necessity of hard times when so many are presently suffering and authoritarianism is regaining a foothold as a result. It must be acknowledged that what emerges from the crucible of change will not always be preferable than what went before, even if the bigger picture of history shows a trend of gradual improvement. Nevertheless, progress requires change and change does not come without hardship. The day we live in a perfectly stable system is the day all freedom is lost, because freedom is disruptive by its very nature.

The difficult truth is that there is no single answer to all society's woes, today or evermore. As the needs and desires of the groups and individuals making up any given society change, so too will the challenges they face. In Britain, socialism was an essential part of rebuilding the country after WW2; Thatcherism was an essential corrective to that socialism subsequently growing out of control; Blair's 'third way' was a flawed experiment in fusing free market capitalism with a social conscience.

The call for the return to centrist values reflects a desire to turn the clock back to before the financial crash, implicitly suggesting insidious corruption and gross financial inequality were an acceptable price to pay for a dream of perpetual stability. In reality, such an idea is no more utopian than the Marxist vision of the future or the conservative vision of the past. It is, in an immaculate centrist way, a perfect compromise between the flawed ideals of both sides.

To pull us out of bad times, what is needed is a forward-thinking and positive form of populist leadership, rather than the ideological dogmatism of Donald Trump or Jeremy Corbyn, or the dream that the centrist stability of the recent past could be prolonged forever. Once the present turmoil has abated, the moderation that centrists hope for will no doubt be essential in preserving that fresh peace for as long as it will hold. Centrism can consolidate, but cannot lead. Until then, we will only find a better path by growing out of our pain, not trying to compromise with it.

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