I want one!

“The craftiest storytellers can tell you a tale without you realising it’s being told. They are called advertisers [..] They can tell a story with a phrase, a picture, and sometimes with a single pencil line. Without them transnationals would become extinct because in order to sell, they have to tell stories. They have to tell them to survive”

From Mark Thomas’ “Belching Out The Devil“

The background to what follows is that it’s born out of a conversation about Draw Mohammed Day. My friend was pointing out that said day was tasteless, as it was offensive to millions of Muslims the world over, and that while it was one thing to object to the extremists who prompted to the day in the first place, the act remains offensive to millions of people who are not extremists.

So here’s the bit I don’t get: why, just because it is a tenet of someone’s faith that they should not (or should) do a thing, is it automatically reasonable that they are offended when people who do not share their faith do (or don’t do) said thing? No-one is asking them to behave the same way. No-one is asking them to approve of it, or to think it is morally right. They’re not even being asked to look. They are simply being asked to acknowledge the right of others to not think or act like them.

My friend used an argument above about not offending her conservative aunt with her behaviour – that when she’s around that aunt, she dresses and acts a bit differently. I’m sure we can all relate to that – I don’t swear in front of my grandmother, I don’t talk about certain subjects with my aunts and uncles. But is that because I believe my relatives’ moral codes are correct? Absolutely not – if I did, I would live by them. It’s because I want them to continue to think well of me. And they understand that while I modify my behaviour in front of them, when I am at home I might behave differently, and they accept that I make a compromise in front of them in exchange for them not condemning the fact that I behave in other ways when they’re not around. They acknowledge my right not to think or act like them.

I am a non-believer in Islam. In the eyes of a member of that faith, which is the bigger sin – not believing in Islam at all, even a little, in fact rejecting many of its forms as oppressive superstition, or drawing the prophet?

So I make a compromise: I don’t go around beating my bloody great atheist drum all the time, in exchange for them not condemning me as an infidel simply because I don’t share their faith. I am, however, allowed to beat on it now and again, in the same way that they are allowed to tell me how they think I should be living my life from time to time. That’s public discourse for you. And if one wishes to partake of public discourse, by, say, belonging to a faith whose members do things in the public arena, then one must accept that not everything one hears is going to be in accordance with one’s private views, and that it is simply not reasonable to take offence at some of the things said. One must admit that others transgressing against one’s personal moral codes can, in fact, be about their right to self-expression, and not about attacking others.

Anyone who is really, genuinely and actually being seriously offended by something like Draw Mohammed Day has presumably already sat in greater judgement on the non-faithful, and on that basis, I find it easy not to worry about whether or not they’re offended over little things. I imagine that the great mass of the reasonable faithful, the ones that one might suggest are being offended here, are actually not seriously offended. Because the reasonable faithful, in order to be considered that, must surely acknowledge the right of others not to share their faith? Otherwise, how are they the reasonable faithful, and why should we listen to them, when they will not to us?

I did not, in fact, draw Mohammed, the other week. Because I don’t need to. But ultimately, it is important to me that I be able to say “it is not a sin to do so, should I wish to” and to reject the judgement on me of anyone who would condemn me for doing or thinking so. I acknowledge that they are free to judge it a sin, but they are absolutely not free to call me a sinner. I do not presume to judge them, why on earth should they be free to judge me, just because they believe differently to me?

Can someone tell me, then, what is offensive about this position? Or why we automatically think it is reasonable for people to be able to say “I’m a Christian/Muslim/Jew/Pagan/Buddhist/33rd degree anti-mason and I find that offensive?”

(I will pre-empt one possible line of argument: there are certain commandments/guidelines/articles of faith that I think we can acknowledge as universal – murder, theft, and so on. The sorts of things we enshrine in law. It is reasonable (if a little ludicrous) to say “I’m a Christian and I find murder offensive” because it reflects a very basic principle that transcends the codes of any of faith in a way that “I’m a Christian, and I find your worship of that idol offensive” does not. If you really think there’s a solid counter-argument to be spun out of that line of thinking, be my guest and try, but I suspect I am unlikely to buy it.)

Someone phone Grant Morrison, and tell him he’s won?

As a staunch non-Tory, am I wailing and rending my garments?

Well, no. Odds are tomorrow will be pretty much like yesterday, and will remain so. I’m not wild about the £6bn in cuts, but whoever won would have had to do similar, so I’m not going to instantly decry them. I am very worried that they’ll hit the most vulnerable first, but will at least wait until there’s a final budget before I press the “eject toys” button on this pram here. It’s just possible that the Lib Dems will reign in some of the Tories most egregious “fuck the oiks” tendencies.

Not wild about the immigration policy, and the couples tax break is a big bag of wank, and I’m more than a bit concerned about some of the language as regards unemployment, but other than that, I’m more or less OK with it. I’ll put up with a fair amount for a shot at some constitutional reform, and for the civil liberties provisions they’re talking about in the “Great Repeal Bill”, which I’m pretty much 100% behind.

In doing so, I’m going to relate the following true story:

Two weeks ago Mr Babatunde Akingbade died at his home in Nigeria. His death was recorded as an accident – Mr Akingbade wasn’t a well-off man, but he was a reasonably skilled manual labourer, and rather than pay for an electrician to run a extra cable into his rooms, he decided he’d do the job himself. Sadly, Mr Akingbade’s skills weren’t up to the task, and he electrocuted himself in the process.

Mr Akingbade’s son, Kumolu Akingbade lives in London – he had a little trouble with immigration shortly after he first moved here – some misfiled paperwork, it turned out in the end, but it all got sorted out. He works as at a company that runs activity weeks for children with special needs – I’m sure you know the sort of thing – a small group of children, who don’t normally get the opportunity to do this sort of thing, are taken out of London, to somewhere in the countryside, to go pony trekking, hillwalking and similar. One took place last week, that Kumolu was supposed to be part of the supervision team for this trip, but of course, he now has to fly back to Nigeria at short notice, to sort out his father’s estate.

So Mrs Carol Gavercole, who works for the same organisation is drafted to go along. Mrs Gavercole is a manager for the organisation, and if she doesn’t help them out now, they’re going to have to cancel the trip, the arrangement of which has been weeks of work, and cost quite a lot of money.

Mrs Gavercole has a son, Philip, who has several different disabilities, thanks to a driver whose brakes failed, and who mounted the kerb by accident a few years ago.  Philip doesn’t need round-the-clock at-home care – he still goes to a mainstream school, although getting him there can be a trial on a bad morning – but he can’t be left alone in the house for long periods. But sod’s law – wouldn’t you just know it – his school’s half term is the same week as this trip. Now Mr Gavercole is also a teacher, a deputy head at a primary school, but he teaches in another borough, and their half term is the following week.

With a lot of fast talking, the Gavercoles manage to get Mr Gavercole a day off to look after Philip on the Monday. And they beg a favour off a family friend for the Thursday. But that still leaves three days. Happily, the Gavercoles have another son, Jason, who works freelance as a sub-editor for the local paper. So he tells them that he can’t come in to work on those days, and spends the time with his brother, instead.

Of course, that leaves Jason out about 180 quid, before tax. That’s over half Jason’s rent. And then it turns out that that local paper don’t need him for one week later that month. Suddenly, half his pay packet is gone, and he has to borrow money off his housemates in order to pay his bills this month.

If you’re thinking of voting Conservative at this election, you’re planning to vote to make life harder for every single person I’ve mentioned above.

We’re all on this lump of rock together. Every last one of us. Politically speaking, I’m an anarchist, in the accurate sense of the term – I want to believe that ultimately, we’re all capable of organising peacefully to help one another without leaders or people in charge. But we’ve got a long way – generations and generations – to go to get there, and in the mean time, I do not want a government that looks on the individual as more important than the collective, because it is simply indisputable that we’re all connected. And even if you can’t vote to help the Akingbades directly, you can vote to help the Gavercoles, and for a party that will take an internationalist approach to the rest of the world – that will recognise that in the 21st century, helping the Akingbades will help the Gavercoles, which will help you.

I have changed the names and some basic details of the story, to prevent identification, but it is a true story. This isn’t a made-up hypothetical – this really happened. Please bear that in mind, if you would like to explain what anyone involved in the situation should have done differently, in order to justify why you think it’s OK to make their lives harder.

Well, first of all, you might consider writing to your MP again. Here’s what I’m sending. You’d need to amend it a bit to reflect your specific circumstances, but it might be worth doing.

Dear Sadiq Khan,

I wrote to you a few weeks ago, regarding the Digital Economy Bill. I didn’t ask that you vote for or against it, because while I personally am against it, I recognise that the issues it covers are very complex, the answers are not simple, and that points of view other than mine need to be thoroughly considered. I wrote to you instead to ask that you do everything possible to stop this complex bill going through in the wash up, something that many of your colleagues in both houses of Parliament described as a deplorable abuse of process, and highly controversial at the least.

I have not yet received a response from you. I’m sure one will be forthcoming, as you’ve always been very good about writing back when I have written to you in the past, but I think you will agree that with the bill now passed, this is very much a case of too little, too late.

I wasn’t the only one writing to my MP on this matter. Over 10,000 people wrote to their MP expressing similar sentiments. And I know that you have had more letters than mine on their subject – I’m personally aware of at least 6 other people who wrote to you on the same topic, and I am certain that we were far from the only ones, even if you only got a statistically average number of letters. This wasn’t an outcry in favour of file-sharing, or other criminal activity, this was the people demanding that their elected representatives do the job they were elected to do, and take time to actually consider and debate one of the most controversial bills this parliament has seen.

I write to you to request, firstly, an account of any steps you took to prevent the bill being dealt with in the wash-up, and secondly an account of the business that kept you from the House on the night of Tuesday the 6th of April between 5pm and 9:30pm, when the bill got its second reading – surely if the bill had to be dealt with in the wash-up, it should at least have had a properly attended debate.

I’m aware that you are, of course, extremely busy, and cannot be expected to attend every debate in the House of Commons, but with the election coming up, I would like to be sure I understand what it is that you prioritise above the issues that matter to me and thousands of others – there’s every chance it was something more important, and I would like to give you the opportunity to convince me of that.

Perhaps you might even consider raising a question in the house, demanding that as many MPs as possible account for their whereabouts that night – while I’m sure you and your fellow MPs hear from people in similar numbers on a variety of issues, it is certainly unusual to see such a groundswell of support, not for an agenda, but for the process of democracy, and I would very much like to know why so many MPs ignored the request not for them to come down on one side of a particular issue, but to simply take time to consider it fully.

Yours sincerely,

Alasdair Watson

If you do send a similar letter, and hear anything back, please do let me know. I think it’d be interesting to try and put together a list of what all the MPs who weren’t present were doing, so if you feel like circulating this idea, do please do so.

Edit: From the Grauniad’s April Fools Day joke here.

What about? Well, you may have heard me and others carping on about the Digital Economy Bill. I’m going to set aside how I feel about it (although I’ll come back to that another time) for a moment, and just accept that some sort of Bill with that name has some kind of useful purpose. OK. It’s going to happen. Except with a Bill this important (the bill is after all, setting the basis for a large chunk of how our economy will work over the coming decades) it has to be done correctly, and democratically. There has to be debate, and our elected representatives should have time to consider it.

They’re not going to get that.

The Bill is going to be dealt with in the wash-up. (The wash-up being that period prior to a general election where bills and amendments are rushed through the houses expressly without proper oversight and debate – in theory to allow the business of the old parliament to be concluded.) The link above mentions that what she’s talking about is based on hearsay, and is not to be taken as 100% correct until Hansard is published. So allow me to quote Hansard.

Lord Young of Norwood Green: I answered that. However, the noble Earl is clearly as unfamiliar with the procedure as, I confess, I am. Nevertheless, I am reliably informed that the usual channels will see the proposed new clause and that an amended clause will then be dealt with in the wash-up. I cannot give any more details. My noble friend the Deputy Chief Whip is nodding in the affirmative. I rest on the assurance that we intend to do this. It is a viable way forward.

They’re going to continue to amend and push through a massively contentious bill, during the wash-up. So I think I will continue to quote Hansard.

The Earl of Erroll: I am in a difficult position. I am delighted that the Minister realises the shortcomings of this clause; that it has replaced the previous Clause 17, which I did not like either; and that, therefore, something better will appear. On the other hand, the method by which it is appearing is by a complete and absolute abuse of parliamentary process. I am not quite sure why we bother to sit and debate any laws at all if the Front Benches in another place can get together and put whatever they like into a bit of legislation. That is for another time and another place. I have always found the whole area of wash-up very troublesome, particularly as a Cross-Bencher who does not get a look-in at all. I have seen some very funny things going through. When I see two Front Benches colluding, I usually think that we are in trouble.

This is troubling enough, except that the other day, a BPI strategy memo was leaked. I’m going to quote from it, too.

John Whittingdale – an inveterate “timing sceptic” (ie. he’s for the bill but doesn’t think it will get through in time) has said this week that he thinks that it could still be lost if enough MPs protest at not having the opportunity to scrutinise it.

Even the proponents of this Bill do not think it will pass if MPs actually have time to look at it. They are basing their strategy on being able to ram this bill through in a thoroughly undemocratic manner. And they are going to succeed, unless you write to your MP, and demand that they demand the time to fulfill their democratic obligations.

The blog post I wrote on feminism did it’s job – it made me think, made me revise some views, hopefully making me a better person, and inspired one of the most interesting comments discussions I’ve seen on my blog. I want to be writing one post of about that scale/length a fortnight this year, and ideally once a week. I need to come up with a list of topics for myself.

Progress on personal blogging-related project: very limited. It’s the sort of thing that requires me to have entire hours spare to sit and chip away at it, and I just haven’t had those this week – Testament has eaten them all.

Gym visits: none. Breaking this streak is priority one next week.
Number of links bookmarked on delicious: 6
Album of the week: John Barleycorn Reborn, on constant play on the bus.