Wednesday, November 30, 2005

Fascists and free speech

Those of us who cleave to the classical liberal defence of free speech probably should show greater awareness that historically this right has always been more qualified than is often supposed. No civil society has ever understood the concept to mean the absolute freedom to say anything, anywhere, to anyone at anytime. Generally the context has been considered decisive - or to put it another way, liberal democracies have generally not recognised the right to cry 'fire' in a crowded theatre.

Perhaps one of the most obvious examples of restrictions to speech in order to prevent direct harm to individuals and groups is found in the way that all civil societies have some kind of prohibition against slander, defamation, misrepresentation, or as the English legal system has it, libel - a point to which I'll return.

Beyond ideas of direct harm, which also of course includes incitement to criminal activity of various kinds, another category of free speech restrictions has often been applied to activities that profane those values that societies consider to beyond negotiation. This can be understood as involving a more abstract form of avoiding harm to the social order but I also think it should be recognised that it has traditionally involved a non-utilitarian prohibition of censoring what is considered obscene, whether any such expression can be shown to cause direct harm or not. While the range of activities that fall foul of this category tend to be much smaller in liberal democracies, traces of the traditional desire to preserve the sacred from being profaned can still be seen.

I was thinking that both of these elements are behind the various laws proscribing Holocaust denial such as they are practiced in various European countries. Drawing from their respective histories, the idea of preventing harm to the individuals and groups most likely to suffer from the dissemination of racially-motivated fabrications of history is bound to be a very important consideration.

It is in this sort of situation that those of us who would describe ourselves as liberals should probably acknowledge that the Platonic argument is stronger than is usually admitted: what if what is known to be true loses out in a social contest with falsehood when it is possible for the latter to triumph, not on the strength of the available evidence or moral argument but by appealing to the lowest common denominator and with the degree of cunning employed in the propagation of lies and fabrications? Or more specifically, what if Europe with respect to the Holocaust was to find itself in the position of the United States where a significant and growing proportion of the population has been misled into believing the contest between a creationist interpretation of Genesis and the theory of evolution is in someway an unresolved issue amongst scientists?

Beyond this there is, surely, something of the prohibition of the obscene behind these laws? I've argued that no human society has ever completely forgone this perogative and no one should be in any doubt that Holocaust denial is indeed an obscenity.

Therefore to maintain the liberal position with respect to David Irving the British Holocaust denier who is currently facing the prospect of imprisonment in Austria, isn't as obvious or as straightforward to me is it seems to be for many liberals. But I do, nevertheless, maintain it.

But in doing so, one should be careful never to yield to the fallacy that because these types of cases are about free-speech and its limits, the people involved carry even the faintest hint of embodying that principle themselves. We must never forget that fascists by their very nature claim a freedom for themselves that they never extend to others, and David Irving is no exception to this rule. This piece of Nazi detritus has attempted to use libel legislation to silence those who have simply asserted what he is - a Holocaust denier whose disgrace as a historian extends way beyond the point where it can be considered purely a question of professional integrity.

Yet this forms part of the argument in favour of the traditional liberal view. Apart from a point one could make about libel laws, which can be used by more powerful and wealthy figures to close down criticism of their activities, is not the kind of mistake outlined above not more likely to occur wherever the widespread contempt and revulsion felt for people if Irving's ilk is codified in law and carries a custodial sentence? Or to put it another way, I share the commonplace liberal view that it is unwise to give these enemies of the open society the opportunity to present themselves as martyrs for free speech by dignifying their putrid lies with the status of a trial.

This is related to the Platonic point mentioned above. In this case, one cannot object to it on the basis of epistemological scepticism since the basic facts of the Holocaust have been established with historical data that is conclusive as it is copious. Instead, it is what I understand to be crucial to JS Mill's defence of free speech that I find persuasive: even when the truth of something can be known, there is more danger inherent in circumscribing the propagation of falsehood because thereby you risk established facts degenerating to the status of dogma. And truth presented as dogma, aligned as it must be to necessarily flawed human institutions, can then become more vunerable for the want of people of good will who haven't become unaccustomed to defending what can be known in a rational manner. Arguably this is a potentially dangerous position made all the more insecure when you've awarded your irrational opponent the status of victim.

Beyond this, attempts to regulate the expression of ideas - regardless of how repugnant - represents a step towards the marriage of cognitive infallibility and state power, historically a union that has never served the cause of human liberty very well. I would reiterate that this is not in my view because truths cannot be known - but rather that to enforce conformity to this carries the risk that the state could become a species of the very thing it sought to avoid by cirumscribing free speech in the first place.

On the idea of the obscene I have less to say except that I take the view that this sort of restriction should be kept to an absolute minimum. Particularly where it is concerned with the use and abuse of history, I think it unwise. Notions of the obscene carry with it shadows of the sacred and while I think it is naive to imagine our secular societies have completely dispensed with this or even that this would be entirely desirable, it is part of the vocation of the historian to do so in order that difficult pursuit of rational objectivity is not to become obscured with the mists of legend and myth-making.

So while it is by no means unproblematic, it is better, and safer, in my view to stick to the classic liberal position: because civil society is not an enterprise association, its subjects should not be legally required to believe anything and therefore should not be punished for the expression of ideas per se, regardless of how false and iniquitous they may be.


This should apply David Irving as it should also apply to those who would fall foul of a law prohibiting the 'glorification' of terrorism. I would prefer these types to be in the open where they are subject to the widespread revulsion felt for them and their odious ideas by the thinking and the good, where I would never forget through lack of practice how to dismantle their intellectually and morally delinquent use of history and theology.

And I'd prefer to avoid the prospect of stupid relativistic arguments about what constitutes Holocaust denial and acts of terrorism becoming determinants in the outcome of a criminal trial - as if their moral idiocy was worthy of this kind of attention.

To be able to recognise the rights of those who represent the very negation of freedom is the glory and wisdom of liberal democracy. That this is so should be a vigorously defended tenet of our beliefs. This requires more self-confidence than perhaps has been on display in recent years; we should understand that we can afford to do this because we have the strength to do it.

Sunday, November 27, 2005

On being conservative and old age

I was having a re-read of Norman Finkelstein's hatchet job on Hitchens, which I read a while ago but was reminded of again because it's in the footnotes of our lenin's latest piece for MRzine. I've been meaning to do something on this concept of apostasy for a while and will still have to leave it for now because it would take too long. But I wanted, in the meantime, to touch briefly on the reasons for that well-known phenomenon of people becoming more conservative as they get older. Mr Finkelstein's piece clearly impressed the comrades, which I find difficult to understand because personally I find it rather sad. Take the introductory paragraph, for example:

"I'm occasionally asked whether I still consider myself a Marxist. Even if my "faith" had lapsed, I wouldn't advertise it, not from shame at having been wrong (although admittedly this would be a factor) but rather from fear of arousing even a faint suspicion of opportunism. To borrow from the lingo of a former academic fad, if, in public life, the "signifier" is "I'm no longer a Marxist," then the "signified" usually is, "I'm selling out." No doubt one can, in light of further study and life experience, come to repudiate past convictions. One might also decide that youthful ideals, especially when the responsibilities of family kick in and the prospects for radical change dim while the certainty of one's finitude sharpens, are too heavy a burden to bear; although it might be hoped that this accommodation, however understandable (if disappointing), were accomplished with candor and an appropriate degree of humility rather than, what's usually the case, scorn for those who keep plugging away."
Candour I can do - I am no longer a Marxist, haven't been one for over twenty years because I decided the old historical data just didn't fit the theory, and this was sometime before I had children. (This in addition to the absolute confidence I have of being one of the first to be shipped off for re-education come the revolution, which I've mentioned before.) But the humility thing I can't do, I'm afraid - and especially not when confronted with people who think that taking the burden of family responsibilities seriously is "disappointing". Anyway, Finkelstein goes on:

"However elaborate the testimonials on how one came to "see the light," the impetus behind political apostasy is - pardon my cynicism - a fairly straightforward, uncomplicated affair: to cash in, or keep cashing in, on earthly pleasures."
Note the telling phrase "earthly pleasures". You'll rarely find a more pure expression of the politics of faith. This is as opposed to what - heavenly pleasures? Given the piece is about Hitchens, one could remark that prior to 9/11 he didn't exactly have a reputation for lacking the resources to indulge his 'earthly pleasures' did he? But this isn't supposed to be a defence of Hitchens; life's too short. Rather I'm interested in a more satisfactory explanation of why it is that people tend to become more conservative as they get older, assuming - as I hope you do - that you find Finkelstein's risible adolescent puritanism unsatisfying.

'Tis all to do with scepticism - faith rarely grows as one gets older; rarely does one get more absolute in one's opinions with age and a key element here is epistemological scepticism. If you haven't read too much history at least as one gets older, you'll have lived long enough to have actually experienced political movements and ideas break on the rock of experience. Remember the Soviet Union? I could go on about the folly of thinking human beings know enough to plan a human society to that degree but instead can I remind you of another, less commented on facet of the USSR's demise? Hardly anyone saw it coming. Now people retrospectively have claimed they saw it coming - but by and large they didn't. I'd challenge you to have a trawl through the literature pre-1989 and find more than a dozen commentators who predicted the resurgence of nationalism and religion in a world where it was assumed we were becoming more secular and rational with each passing day. This kind of scepticism is often identified as being, pace Karl Popper, linked to liberalism in the classic sense, which it is - but it is also crucially important to conservatism, as some Scottish dude called David Hume would insist. In short, nobody knows anything so one learns to be suspicious of those who have a theory that can explain everything.

Whether this is more or less important than the second type of scepticism I'm not sure but what has also been always and everywhere important to conservatism is scepticism about the human condition. "We are afraid to put men to trade each on their own private stock of reason", wrote Edmund Burke, "because we suspect that this stock in each man is small". It is indeed difficult, as the economists would have it, to "assume people are rational" because human history would suggest that at the very least, they have a rather eccentric way of demonstrating this. It is this understanding that has always led conservatives to see order as the first virtue of any polity.

Michael Oakeshott once wrote that "it is a sign of maturity to be not too dismayed at the human condition". On that basis, I'm not sure I can claim to have reached maturity yet - but maybe more than those who imagine they can remain untouched by the human stain. For what is the impulse driving Mr Finkelstein and all the rest of them that imagine virtue can be gained by always and everywhere aligning yourself against power of any kind but a desire to keep one's white garment unblemished by this world?

Better this, for them, than getting involved in the stuff and filth of the world as it actually is. Finkelstein writes, "It is when the phenomenon of political apostasy is accompanied by fanfare and fireworks that it becomes truly repellent." Possibly - but when it isn't, as was the case with Eric Hobsbawm, nobody seems to notice. Which is a pity because his observations are a salutary lesson to these the political equivalents of the Jehovah's Witnesses: no improvement in the living conditions of the ordinary working man was ever brought about by those who preferred the purity of their ideology over engaging with the world as it actually is and not how they hope it will be come the eschaton, which no student of history expects any time soon, if ever.

Yet conservatism, like all political dispositions and ideologies, has a couple of questions it finds difficult to answer and in this case one of the most important is: what does one do when your enemies come to power? Arguably to answer this in any practical way is to cease to be conservative in any traditional sense and I'm interested in the way that left wing thought feeds into this, as alluded to in this post.

I intend to develop this at a later date. Until then, can I leave you with a Biblical observation? Everyone knows the story of the woman caught in adultery in the Gospel of John. When the assembled crowd ask Jesus what should be done, he replies that he who is without sin should cast the first stone. So far, so familiar - but a lesser noted feature of the story is that it was the older amongst the crowd that were the first to drop their stones and walk away...

I'm a 'champagne humanist'

apparently - according to this:

Haymaker



You are one of life’s enjoyers, determined to get the most you can out of your brief spell on Earth. Probably what first attracted you to atheism was the prospect of liberation from the Ten Commandments, few of which are compatible with a life of pleasure. You play hard and work quite hard, have a strong sense of loyalty and a relaxed but consistent approach to your philosophy.


You can’t see the point of abstract principles and probably wouldn’t lay down your life for a concept though you might for a friend. Something of a champagne humanist, you admire George Bernard Shaw for his cheerful agnosticism and pursuit of sensual rewards and your Hollywood hero is Marlon Brando, who was beautiful, irascible and aimed for goodness in his own tortured way.


Sometimes you might be tempted to allow your own pleasures to take precedence over your ethics. But everyone is striving for that elusive balance between the good and the happy life. You’d probably open another bottle and say there’s no contest.

What kind of humanist are you? Click here to find out.

Whatever. I don't put a great deal of store in these things. One asked me to select from a number of pictures; I liked the one with the flowers and the result told me I was a demi-god who would one day take over the world. Flattery will get you nowhere, so you can forget about asking for my credit card number. And this one's a pile of shite: I'm not even an atheist and I think George Bernard Shaw was a complete arsehole who wrote shit plays, was puffed up with his own self-importance, and was so stupid he wasn't even able to see through someone like Joseph Stalin. Never trust a vegetarian is what I say. Give me Orwell any day. Although the bit about opening another bottle winning over ethics rings a bell...

Tributes to George Best

There's been a few but I like this one above them all.

Friday, November 25, 2005

Sick teachers 'quit to take new posts'

This was a piece in the Scotsman about teachers taking early retirement, getting a big fat pension and then taking up new jobs, many of them 'teaching related' - whatever that means:

"MORE than a third of teachers who are allowed to retire early because of ill health take up new jobs, many of them teaching-related, new research has shown.

Academics at Glasgow University warned that teachers could be abusing the system as a way of getting out of the profession through the 'inappropriate use of ill health retirement.' They called on councils to investigate how the early retirement system operates."
The idea that academics at Glasgow University are in a position to make comments about anyone abusing any system is really very funny. If you read the rest of the article, you'll see that for one year (2002-3) this would have been less than sixty people - and given that the average survival rate for teachers post retirement is one year, it isn't anything as like a drain on the public purse as all these people who are paid to talk complete bollocks on in-service days and the like. (Please note that's an average dear readers - if I put my head in the oven and my feet in the fridge, on average I'll be perfectly comfortable. In other words, the people taking early retirement is balanced by the people who drop dead on the job, which two of my colleagues at my last school did.)

Still, it's not good really, is it? But the basic problem, as this research from the Department of the Bleeding Obvious points out, is that there isn't enough support for teachers before it gets to the stage where the job drives you completely insane:

"The report reveals that the most common cause of early retirement is mental disorder. It also says that the support available to teachers experiencing ill health is "inadequate and insufficient"."
Yes indeed - I'm a teapot. Something must be done. Why?

"There is an issue about the amount of support teachers get and whether employers are doing enough to keep them in the workforce, given the current teacher shortages."
Recruiting problem? Now why would that be? It's such a fulfilling job - everyone remembers a good teacher...

I've often thought we need to get away from this idea that teaching is a job for life. I've only been doing it for eight years, I'm already half-insane, half-alcoholic as a result - as no doubt this blog clearly demonstrates - and frankly I'm absolutely sick to death of it already. "Support" for teachers should consist in part of being a little bit more realistic: perhaps the Job Centre could open a wee branch in each school so that those of us who have had enough of this ridiculous profession can look for something more sensible to do for a living in our lunch-hour (sic).

Ah, but what about the shortage, you ask? I suggest a recruitment drive aimed at all those people who seriously imagine that most problems in the education system are attributable to the fact that no one has asked them how to run it. Perhaps Melanie Phillips could be persuaded to take a few classes on a part time basis. Or Chris Woodhead to show us how it's done - provided he can be persuaded not to shag any more pupils, that is. Or Peter Hitchens, as long as he promises not to hurt anyone (he'll have to be kept away from the scissor drawer, I reckon). From the other end of the spectrum, I'd dearly love to see a few social workers have a go: "Hi guys - I'm Sue. I'm not like your other teachers; I feel your pain. Is there anything I can do to ameliorate your oppression under this patriarchal capitalist regime?" Cue muffled cries of, "Yeah, geis a blowjob Sue", farting noises, flying objects and general mayhem.

The really annoying thing about teaching is that because everyone's been to school and then go on to send their little darlings there (he's so advanced for his age), everyone's a bleedin' expert on how you should do your job. I want one of those jobs where when you tell people what you do, they just say, "Oh" because they're absolutely clueless as to what that actually entails - like when people tell me they're a "system analyst" or a "project manager" or something. I say, "Oh, really?" when inwardly I'm thinking, what the hell does that mean?

So until such times as I've found a way of escape from this lunatic job, hear this, those of you who seriously imagine you know what it's all about: no you fucking don't so shut the fuck up because you're raising my blood-pressure and I'll end up going for early retirement before I hit forty.

Sorry about the language but that's the way it is, I'm afraid. You don't agree? Ah, fuck off!

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