What is politics?

A silly question but with a serious answer

What is politics? A silly question, maybe, but a comment from Chris Dillow’s blog this week chimed with what I have been thinking of late: “Politicians make mistakes. This is inevitable because society is complex and knowledge is limited. But there are different types of error. Being bad at your job is one type, but another is simply not understanding what your job actually is. By some definitions of political activity, leading politicians have for some time been guilty of the latter.”

Dillow picks up on issues such as transgender toilets and banning controversial bands as being not politicians’ business, and I think there are more areas where they have turned issues that are not in themselves political, into matters of partisan posing. It is at least arguable that politicians take on areas outside their remit as a form of displacement activity, as dealing with big issues is hard.

There are many cases where legislation has been introduced to regulate activity unnecessarily (think of all the laws banning protesting activity), which could be better dealt with by following existing law rather than creating new ones. The argument about the small boats could have become much more helpful if politicians had agreed to act jointly instead of holding a bidding war as to who is the toughest. Reform is only the worst offender at inventing an issue and then demanding it be addressed. I am not suggesting that all political issues should be turned into a lovefest, but the present confrontational approach is at least timewasting.

Political debate should be about principle and policy, how we might order and protect society and improve people’s wellbeing. Anything else is noise. Obviously, whether or not politicians are debating the issues, the issues still exist, but the British are very bad at taking responsibility, so politicians fill the gap (a gap frequently created by the media). Anyone is free to have an opinion, but decision-taking seems now to have been taken out of the hands of the relevant bodies and claimed by others (witness the number of U-turns of late). This is how we end up with a politics of impunity – it’s someone else’s fault, but I’ll apologise anyway, as long as you know it wasn’t my area of responsibility.

If we could remove some conflicts from the parliamentary field, there would be more time to debate the direction the country could or should be taking. Ethical questions should be eschewed as far as possible unless actual legislation is required (the debate on assisted dying was much praised for its respectfulness and lack of partisanship. This would, I think, be the exception). Abortion, for example, is not a political matter; it is a health matter. “Wokeness” is not a political matter; it is a set of opinions. Anti-Semitism isn’t a political matter; it is bad manners.

What would be left to the politicos? Economic policy (there is a clear left/right policy differentiation), foreign policy, resource allocation, climate change, food policy, governance – there’s lot to get on with. I would exclude immigration (largely a managerial issue), growth (a misguided aim) and most of welfare (should be dealt with at an appropriate [i.e. lower] level). But you can choose what you think should be the business of legislators; the point is to concentrate their minds on the important things and not to interfere with things which are the task of lawyers, the police or the Health Service.

As a side issue, this would, in my view, help engage the public better. They would be clearer about who was responsible for stuff, they would recognize political posturing more easily and they would get a better sense of the differences between parties. I’m not asking for a return to ideological warfare, but rather that parties were forced to express their vision, or at least to acquire one. Better that than interminable arguments about BBC presenters.

Andrew Hemming