The Radical Nation

Published on National Collective 12/06/12

Scotland's 'radical' identity is imaginary. Thanks to a new and changing world of ideas, we've got a chance to make it real. 

During the unification of the Italian city-states in the 1860s, the novelist, artist and statesman Massimo d'Azeglio wrote: "Italy has been made; now it remains to make Italians." Italy remains deeply divided, and d'Azeglio's words have grown in power as a reminder of the complex relationship between statehood and identity. It's no surprise that politicians struggle to talk about it, as Ed Miliband did with concepts of Englishness and Britishness, because identity is a deeply subjective idea. As Mike Small of Bella Caledonia points out, if I want to describe myself as Scottish, English (I'm half-and-half), British or all three in a post-independence Scotland, it's entirely reasonable for me to do so. Americans have happily been Irish, Scottish or German for years despite having only the most tenuous of familial or geographical links with their chosen heritage, and it's only the most petty of geopolitical scrooges who seeks to deny them that pleasure. Identities are flexible.

But the derision that greeted Miliband's brave but clumsy attempt to define a left-wing English civic nationalism betrayed a complacency about our own national identity that is yet to be properly examined. Too many Scots still look to left-wing heroes like Keir Hardie, Jimmy Reid and James Maxwell as proof that we are a profoundly 'social democratic' nation, with a political culture far to the left of England's. The 'we're more left wing' argument remains the foundation stone of the Left's rationale for independence, and the SNP are equally guilty of propagating the delusion that independence is the magic spray that'll repel the bloodthirsty midge of Thatcherite Conservatism once and for all.

Anybody who's had the pleasure of dealing with those tiny carnivorous tyrants (midges, not Tories, though it works for both) will know that no matter how much you douse yourself in Avon Skin So Soft (trust me, it's the best there is), they still won't go away. There's no magic spray for the left, no easy way out for those who're sick of the Daily Mail and Theresa May and rampant consumerism and rocketing inequality and greed and banks and the monarchy and UKIP and Eton and Blairism and people who still use the phrase 'socialist yahoo' like it's an insult. With independence, those things aren't going to vanish. Sure, some of them would cease to be features of the UK and become features of whatever a post-Scotland entity would be called, but that doesn't absolve us of responsibility. Over the course of our coexistence with the British nations, we've played a significant role in shaping the nature of the union and we bear some of the burden of what we've created. We can't sweep Britain's shared challenges under the border and forget about them - regardless of whether you feel British or not, you should feel bound by the simple fact of your humanity to strive for a better life for those with whom you've shared a history.

In fact, some of those things would become problems that we would actually have to deal with ourselves, in our own parliament, putting trust - god forbid - in our own politicians. The idea that the Scottish people will automatically vote for the radical government needed to tackle the problems Scotland faces is a dangerous one. John Curtice and Rachel Ormston's paper 'Is Scotland More Left-Wing Than England?' tackles the issue head-on, using Social Attitudes Survey data to show that while Scots do display a slightly more social democratic mentality than the English, with higher levels of support for redistribution and greater equality, this has been in decline since devolution. More powers have not made us more radical. Those who believe that independence will automatically result in progressive, egalitarian policies should take note, now. The belief in 'magic spray' independence is an excuse to let the ends justify the means. I've argued before that a nation is forever defined by the nature of its creation, and we must not allow ourselves to follow the SNP down the road of appeasing small-c conservatives in order to win a Yes vote that would ruin our right to be radical. That's why the Greens are right to openly criticise the way Yes Scotland is being run.

Despite all the above, Scotland can be radical. The problems we face today can be boiled down to two things: concentrations of wealth, and concentrations of power. Throughout the 20th century, the ascendant theories of liberalism hoped to harness the deeply competitive side of human nature in democracy and economics. Through democracy and its checks and balances, sociopaths could no longer manipulate and cheat their way to absurd levels of power thanks to their own sheer disregard for ethics and their fellow humans; but through the modern, perverse reimagining of Adam Smith's free-market capitalism, opened up to pure competition, those same apostles of amorality could wield an equal or greater influence over the people they employed and the planet they destroyed. In his book 'What Money Can't Buy: The Moral Limits of Markets', the philosopher Michael Sandel argues that the free market encourages a degree of antisocial behaviour amongst its executives and elites that has been morally and socially damaging to a frightening extent. After all, it is profitable to use advertising to make people think that buying a big, gas-guzzling range rover will give them more status and happiness: those who can afford nice things get trapped into a spiral of unfulfilling consumption and environmental degradation, while those who don't have the cash become increasingly insecure about their own status as they see the material wealth of those happy, attractive and prosperous families in the adverts.

Thankfully, ideas are changing. At the end of the 20th century, the political scientist Francis Fukuyama proclaimed 'the end of history' as liberalism triumphed. By the end of the 2000s, 'liberal' markets and democracies across the west lay discredited and depressed. Across the political spectrum, concentrated wealth and its accompanying inequality is condemned, while the concentrated power of centralised governments and corporate lobbies is mistrusted. In Scotland, the Jimmy Reid Foundation's report 'The Silent Crisis' sets out a radical new vision for local government which has the potential to redistribute political and civic power from central government. It is also the UN's International Year of the Cooperative - an increasingly popular business model that redistributes economic power from dictatorial executives to workers and consumers. The emerging disciplines of behavioural economics and positive psychology show a new way of thinking about humans as complex, often irrational beings motivated by human interaction more than money. Decaying theories are being challenged by a paradigm whose time has come - one that says that we are people, not robots, and we work best when we work together.

Like it or not, Scotland has been central to that old, dying model of the western world. From Adam Smith to Fred Goodwin and Gordon Brown, we've been one of the leading lights of a discredited way of doing things. With independence, we've got the chance to redeem ourselves. There is a new way of doing things, one that is bubbling under the surface, looking for a vent through which to spill into the international political consciousness. In leaving the United Kingdom, we wouldn't be leaving just any old country - we'd be deliberately and determinedly withdrawing from one of the main offenders of 20th century psycho-capitalism and beginning again at a time when there are new, truly progressive ideas about what a nation is for and what it can do. Those ideas will be at their most powerful in the next few years, as Europe struggles and the UK sinks, and they will undoubtedly play a central role in the foundation of a new Scotland. The UK is chained to the past, and no matter how hard it tries, it won't be able to make it out of the last century before it's overtaken by other, nimbler states. An independent Scotland must chain itself to the future.

We may not be as left-wing as we'd like to be. We may not be as British, or as English, as Ed Miliband would like us to be. But we are in a unique position to reforge ourselves as a nation in the heat of a new and inspiring world of ideas about what we can be. On October 6th, National Collective will attend the Radical Independence Conference in Glasgow, where these ideas can be shared and developed among leading figures of the Scottish Left. It's an opportunity for us all to look at the radical national identity we've been imagining for decades, and do something with that energy. In our minds, a radical Scotland has been made; now it remains to make radical Scots.

Walking On Eggshells

Let's leave Yes Scotland to the politicians - It's time for an eggshell theory of independence.

Glistening in the eerie blue glow of the cinema screen behind them, the grinning ranks of Salmond's Scotterati linked arms and clapped along to 'One Great Thing', the 1994 hit from Dunfermline rockers Big Country. The song is fitting enough as a campaign anthem - the singalong chorus and the bagpipe guitars that defined the band's sound will add a patriotic backdrop to any events or TV spots from now on. The band, too, seem appropriate, although perhaps for the wrong reasons.

Pete Wishart, now the SNP MP for Perth and North Perthshire, played keyboard in an early incarnation of the band, before he and his brother were jettisoned after a disastrous reception supporting Alice Cooper on tour in 1982. Apparently Cooper's hardened heavy metal crowds didn't take too kindly to Big Country's new romantic sound, and the experience put the brakes on the band's momentum until they found mainstream success in 1984. That episode is by no means exceptional in the music business - early failures to launch are almost mandatory rites of passage for ambitious young rock bands - but the lessons Wishart learned before his career took off (with Gaelic rock legends Runrig, no less) could have saved the SNP a few blushes on Friday.

This is perhaps the first time that the Scottish press will find themselves collectively compared to a roaring horde of sweaty, leather-clad metalheads (and hopefully the last, for their sakes), but like Cooper's fans jeering the relatively quiet and considered sound of Big Country, there was a clear disconnect between what they expected to see at the Yes Scotland launch and what they got.

First of all, let's not forget that this was to some extent a re-launch. The unveiling of the SNP's referendum consultation exactly four months ago aimed to energise activists and sieze the attention of the national and global press. It was widely seen as a success, with even arch-unionists like Kevin McKenna announcing that 'in five years' time, the union will be no more', as campaign director Angus Robertson confidently set out his roadmap to independence. That was the SNP machine in full, glorious flow, sweeping aside silly notions of policy detail and ideological consistency with a juggernaut of technological wizardry and organisational nous.

The Yes Scotland launch, on the other hand, has been pretty widely condemned for its style-over-substance approach. In The Scotsman, David Torrance points out that while they certainly attempted to repeat their usual glitz n' glamour tactics (which arguably worked to great effect in 2011), the tried and tested routine has begun to look and sound a little stale. Their celebrity cast is impressive, and their message - which can be boiled down to self-determination, pure and simple - remains hard to challenge, but the delivery seemed all wrong.

The referendum launch in January was arguably no more substantive in terms of vision and 'policy' than this, but there was something distinctly and unexpectedly underwhelming about the spectacle of Yes Scotland. Perhaps it was the dim, sickly blue wash that was cast over all and sundry (I know I'm repeating myself there, but it did look awful on telly), or the vague and often irrelevant nostalgia of the celebrity contributions, but there was nothing there that seemed capable of firing up Nats, worrying the No campaign or - most importantly - persuading the media that this is a force to be reckoned with.

Had the SNP not earned themselves such a reputation for first-class organisation and campaigning professionalism on previous outings, and had they not made it so clear that Yes Scotland is largely dominated by their people, the press might have been more forgiving. This is now the second time in a month that the party has failed to meet expectations that they themselves have built, and I would be surprised if there is not some serious soul-searching going on now at the highest levels. However, Ian Bell's piece in today's Herald offers a bit of much-needed nuance to the post-launch reactions:

The important point is that in 2014 we won't be voting on, for example, an independent Scotland's relationship, if any, with the monarchy. We won't be deciding whether we can or should remain within Nato or the sterling area. The referendum is about the right to choose, not about the particular choices contained within anyone's "vision" of self-determination.

Maybe, amid all the song and dance, this was the point that the Yes Scotland launch was trying to make. Independence is not really something that requires any concrete 'policy', as has been demanded by so many commentators since May 2011 and earlier. First and foremost, the case for independence requires the confidence of the Scottish people to govern themselves. That kind of confidence is far better galvanised by our arts and culture than by perpetually distrusted politicians. If I want to feel comfortable with my identity and the ability of my people to advance our standards of civilisation, I'll look to the quality of the citizens we produce as a society rather than listening to the pandering pleas of pampered politicians.

Once we have that cultural confidence for autonomous self-rule, our options are pretty much open. Sure, with membership of NATO, the EU and sterling we might have to give up a bit of our freedom to have an exclusive say in all our decisions, but even that criticism betrays a misunderstanding of what independence really means. Independence is about the capacity to act autonomously - it means if the Scottish people want to be in Europe, we can be, and if we don't we can leave. It means if we want to create our own currency, we can elect a Scottish Government with the power to do just that. If, at any point after voting Yes, the Scottish people want to remove nuclear weapons from Scottish waters, we'll damn well vote for it and we'll damn well do it without anybody being able to stop us, thanks very much. It's ultimately about trusting ourselves to do what's right. The launch of Yes Scotland was an attempt to say yes, we can look after ourselves - it's that central logic that Brian Cox (sort of) summed up when he said:

I think Scotland has earned the right to its own nation status. It has earned the right to control its own destiny. And it will certainly make a better job of it than that parliament (Westminster) which has not the foggiest clue about Scotland's cultural, economic and social needs.

There's a problem, though, with Yes Scotland. In attempting to mix politics with culture, the SNP have blurred a line that they've spent decades trying to solidify. Since devolution, they've successfully cast off the stereotypes of tartan-clad braveheart-worship by proving themselves to be the most competent and sensible party of government. They (and, in some cases, other devolved governments) have brought a degree of confidence back into Scotland's political culture, proving that Scotland can make good and ambitious decisions for itself, while treating the artistic and creative community with respect but keeping their distance at the same time. Much of the scorn poured on the Yes campaign launch focused on the apparent recidivism of the event, as a campaign perceived to be dominated by the SNP slipped into the flag-waving sentimentality they've worked so hard to avoid.

The challenge for the leadership of Yes Scotland is a tricky one, because the choice they're asking people to make is going to be decided by two things that are often in competition: to put it crudely, the head and the heart. It's what behavioural economists like nobel prize-winner Daniel Kahnemann call the 'dual-process model' of the brain. We are driven by 'System 1' and 'System 2' ways of thinking: System 1 is fast, instinctive, non-rational and very difficult to control; System 2 is deliberative and slow, and we use it (or try to use it) for making difficult, complex decisions - but psychologist and moral and political theorist Jonathan Haidt argues that whether we like it or not, System 1 (or what he calls the 'elephant', while System 2 is the 'rider') tends to have the final say.

That's a pretty simplified explanation, but it sums up the dichotomous nature of most political campaigns. Politicians spend hours crafting policy and spending plans that will stand up to rigorous intellectual scrutiny, but spend millions of pounds on adverts and grandstanding events that set our pulse racing for when we eventually come to vote on what is often pure gut instinct. The independence debate, with its equal measures of intellectual nuance and patriotic emotion, is the finest example of this duality that there is in modern politics.

So far, Yes Scotland has had a clear focus on the emotional, instinctive side of their message - appealing to our cultural identity and our love of celebrity is not a rational argument for independence, and though the famous faces were often making smart, thoughtful arguments, that was really just an excuse to put them up there in front of the cameras. That is, of course, a legitimate course of action for the Yes campaign. As I've said, some basic self-confidence in our artistic and political culture is essential to making the Yes campaign and the independent nation that could follow it successful.

However, we also have an instinctive distrust of our politicians, and to see highly respected creative figures operating in apparent cahoots with our reluctantly elected representatives makes many people feel a bit uneasy. A star-studded cast is also a very effective way of making some pretty boring ideas seem a lot more exciting. Although my pulse quickened a little when Brian Cox started talking about democratic socialism, nobody really thinks that any of those people (with the hopeful exception of Patrick Harvie) will have any tangible input into the Official Vision For An Independent Scotland™.

I don't have much hope for the No campaign either. Or will it be Yes Britain? They'll be lining up their own celebrity endorsements right now, and you can expect them to jump right on board the jubilee bandwagon, Union Flag flying high. Expect plenty of appeals to 'national solidarity' alongside sob stories about the disintegrating welfare state and a couple of old, brutal wars that we're all very proud of for some reason. I'm biased here, but I find it hard to think of any rational case for the union - they may be able to cobble one together against independence, but that will have to go negative, leaving them open to the SNP's favourite line of attack.

If the two official campaigns are hijacking our Great Scots and going for gut instinct and assurances that everything will stay the same, who's making the radical case, and who's keeping the politicians at arm's length? By now, we should all be resigned to the fact that despite the undoubted intelligence and ability of many figures in the mainstream of politics and the press in Scotland, they're not going to have a proper debate. They'll want details, numbers and obscurities about precisely the wrong things. NATO, the EU, the pound - all of these are ideologically malleable, temporally specific and politically conditional. Independence is not. A nation is either sovereign or it isn't. I don't see the media spending the same time examining the suitability of the present political establishment to reduce the embarrassing levels of child poverty in this country as they will asking each other about how we'll exert influence over the Bank of England once we're spending sterling in an independent Scotland.

So it's time to make sure it's as easy as possible for everybody to ignore them. We should leave the SNP and Labour to treat the debate like it's just another general election, and for the media to cover it as such, while everyone else can get on with having a proper, thoughtful and intelligent discussion about whether Scotland's problems are best dealt with by a parliament in Holyrood or a parliament in Westminster. And no, that's actually not a leading question.

It's what anarchists call the 'eggshell theory of revolution'. You allow the establishment to continue functioning as usual, but build new institutions and a new way of cooperation that renders it obsolete. Once the legitimacy of the old order is hollowed out, it'll calmly and quietly collapse. There are plenty of alternatives to the press and politics that we're used to: Bella Caledonia, Better Nation, National Collective and even Labour Hame or Tory Hoose all offer commentary that reflects the realities and ambitions of modern Scotland far better than our ageing TV and print media. We have organisations and parties offering political alternatives across the ideological spectrum, from the Jimmy Reid Foundation and Reform Scotland to Occupy and the Scottish Greens (at no point did Harvie look comfortable on Friday, to his eternal credit).

If Yes Scotland is going to be the rather empty and misjudged celeb-fest that we saw at the launch, why not let an alternative Yes campaign emerge? Let the political and media elite use their money and experience to demonstrate that an independent Scotland would be perfectly capable of self-government and economic security, while the rest of us can argue about why that's needed and how we can use it. The former can give people an instinctive feeling of security in saying Yes that's clearly still missing, while the latter can excite people into saying Yes with their heads as well as their hearts.

The SNP have no monopoly on wisdom, nor should their campaign have the monopoly on Scotland's creative and artistic community that their launch implied. An eggshell theory of independence could give us an eggshell theory of Scotland, where the concentrations of wealth and power that define and damage politics both here and in the UK are hollowed out and replaced by the vibrant, engaging and truly radical future that Scotland is genuinely capable of. The SNP and the pro-union parties should be allowed to give the media what they expect. It's time for the rest of us to give Scotland what it needs: a proper debate.