It certainly seems that way following the vote yesterday by the European Parliament’s Industry Committee. Jim Killock of The Open Rights Group (ORG) argued that:
‘By allowing ISPs to charge more for “specialised services”, the Regulation would enable telecoms and other companies to buy their way to a faster internet at the expense of individuals, start-ups and small businesses. This threatens the openness and freedom of the internet.’
Effectively, a two-tier internet would ensue, where the big players dominate and control the flow of information online. As Marietje Schaake of the Netherlands (a country which enshrined net neutrality in law in 2012) explains:
“Without legal guarantees for net neutrality internet service providers were able to throttle competitors. And existing online services can make deals to offer faster services at a higher price. This could push players without deep pockets, such as start-ups, hospitals or universities, out of the market.”
Of course, the increased corporatisation of the internet was always likely. The internet is (still) too wild and free a place for corporates and they see greater influence over the way information is delivered as necessary to protect their interests and drive profits.
As is to be expected, the legislation proposed is also rather loose with its wording (what legislation related to technology isn’t?) which raises concerns about the potential for increased internet censorship:
Also of concern are proposals that would allow “reasonable traffic management measures” to “prevent or impede serious crime”. On these, Killock added:
‘It is unclear what “reasonable traffic management measures” are but potentially they could allow ISPs to block or remove content without any judicial oversight. Decisions about what the public can and can’t see online should not be made by commercial organisations and without any legal basis.’
The full European Parliament will vote on this Regulation will take place on 3rd April. It’s still not too late to take action against the proposals. A good place to start is the Save the Internet campaign. And if you want to find out more about net neutrality and what it means, you could do worse than watch the short video below.
Neoliberalism n. a political philosophy that argues in favour of privatisation, deregulation, and shrinking of the state to the benefit of the private sector.
Neoliberals have a peculiar belief system. They believe that neoliberalism is about shifting power away from the state, freeing us from its “oppressive” influence on every aspect of our lives. It is about freedom and liberty. It is about the individual having more control over our lives. Of course, this doesn’t hold up to much scrutiny. Whenever neoliberals are in a position of power, they have to deceive the people to ensure that their political philosophy can be put into action. Deception because, ultimately, the people will often reject the reforms proposed if they were offered to them in advance and with total transparency (see the NHS). It’s why very often the most extreme neoliberal reforms take place under authoritarian regimes (Chile being the obvious example).
Deceit is one weapon they deploy frequently and with ease. But more broadly, their weapon is language. It is through language that they are most effective in winning arguments and closing down perfectly rational opposition to their political philosophy. It is their chief weapon against dissent. As Greene and McMenemy argue (£):
“The introduction of the concept of choice for individual public service users is an example of a neoliberal rhetorical tool used to overcome any foreseen resistance to marketisation and restructuring of the public sphere.”
Terms such as ‘choice’ are deployed in such a way as to ensure that opponents of neoliberal philosophy are seen as somehow opposed to ‘choice’, opposed to the individual being able to exercise their right to ‘choose’. Thus any dissent is effectively neutered. After all, what right-thinking person could be opposed to the inalienable right for an individual to choose?
This neutering of debate and hijacking of language is apparent in much of the language we encounter on a day-to-day basis. Presenting a new initiative as ‘efficient’ or ‘progressive’, for example, ensures that anyone who disagrees with these positions is easily labelled as somehow ‘anti-progress’ or as a defender of inefficiency (it’s worth noting that in the UK and US the term ‘progressive’ is used in very different ways by the right-wing. In the UK it is a term embraced by the right for political expediency, the US right-wing sees it as a term of abuse). Neoliberal maneuvering can, therefore, ensure that opponents are seen by the majority as old-fashioned and out-of-touch, even when the opponents are perhaps even more radical and forward-thinking.
We see this frequently across society in general and in terms of our own profession. Those who object to certain language or who question certain new ideas are seen as obstructive, outdated refuseniks who merely hold back both the profession and the institution as a whole. However, I would argue that such voices are not merely naysayers, refusing any hint of ‘progress’. They can and do hold ‘forward-thinking’ ideas that are often truly radical in the sense that they offer an alternative path that sits outside established orthodoxies.
One example of the infiltration of neoliberal ideology is the growing use of the word ‘customer’. This is a problematic term for a public service to utilise. Reflecting on an interaction in an art exhibition with a representative of “customer liaison”, Doreen Massey notes in her article “Neoliberalism has hijacked our vocabulary”:
“The message underlying this use of the term customer for so many different kinds of human activity is that in all almost all our daily activities we are operating as consumers in a market – and this truth has been brought in not by chance but through managerial instruction and the thoroughgoing renaming of institutional practices. The mandatory exercise of “free choice” – of a GP, of a hospital, of schools for one’s children – then becomes also a lesson in social identity, affirming on each occasion our consumer identity.”
Indeed, as the late Tony Benn explained in an interview for Michael Moore’s Sicko, the term ‘customer’ implies a financial transaction, one where money must pass hands. The implication, therefore, is that if you do not have money you cannot be a customer as you do not have the means to pay for the service. This, of course, gets to the heart of neoliberal doctrine – that everything has its price. The risk of employing such terminology is that it validates neoliberal ideology. Not only validates, but also opens the door to commercial influences and, ultimately, commercial “expertise” (this is why language should be carefully deployed, it ultimately erodes the influence of the professional). After all, if you are going to argue that concepts such as ‘customer services’ are integral to the delivery of library services, why not get in the ‘experts’? However, there are alternatives visions to the relationship between the user and the service. Visions that are not old-fashioned and archaic, but fresh and “forward-thinking” (to adopt clumsy terminology).
Take, for example, Noam Chomsky’s view of on an alternative future for higher education:
“First of all, we should put aside any idea that there was once a “golden age.” Things were different and in some ways better in the past, but far from perfect. The traditional universities were, for example, extremely hierarchical, with very little democratic participation in decision-making. One part of the activism of the 1960s was to try to democratize the universities, to bring in, say, student representatives to faculty committees, to bring in staff to participate. These efforts were carried forward under student initiatives, with some degree of success. Most universities now have some degree of student participation in faculty decisions. And I think those are the kinds of things we should be moving towards: a democratic institution, in which the people involved in the institution, whoever they may be (faculty, students, staff), participate in determining the nature of the institution and how it runs; and the same should go for a factory.”
That seems to me to be a truly forward-thinking and radical idea. Although it is radical only in the sense that the current social and political climate makes it appear radical. Who could argue that this is not a ‘forward-thinking’ proposition? It rejects standard orthodox thinking, replacing a hierarchical system with something more democratic. Replacing a traditional approach with something alternative, untested and, ultimately, revolutionary.
The alternative path to a customer/service relationship need not be old fashioned and traditionalist. It can be radical, bold and resolutely non-traditional. Rejecting the customer/service relationship need not mean that the refusenik lacks a radical, alternative vision. Indeed, the alternative may be more radical than that which accepts traditional hierarchical structures and operates within broader environmental and political norms. To a certain extent, this radical alternative to the neoliberal customer/service relationship is already being tested in Spain.
Whilst not a perfect example of the kind of structures that could exist as an alternative to the neoliberal model, Mondragon University does offer a more democratic, co-operative system. In comparison to the neoliberal model, it is somewhat radical in that it rejects orthodox hierarchical structures. As Times Higher Education discovered last year:
“The university has a highly democratic governance structure. Its supreme body is the general assembly, a 30-strong committee of representatives composed of one-third staff, one-third students and one-third outside interested parties, often other co-ops in Mondragon Corporation [note: Mondragon Corporation is the overall federation of workers cooperatives which includes Mondragon University]. It meets annually to decide on the priorities for the coming year and has significant powers: it can, for example, sack members of the senior management team. (It last used this power in 2007 when one manager was dismissed, according to Altuna.)
“Mondragon is also highly decentralised. “We say that the chancellor [also known as the rector] has less power than the deans,” says the current holder of the top post, Iosu Zabala Iturralde. (Zabala appears to be the only member of staff who wears a tie – but he does not go as far as wearing a suit jacket.)”
This alternative to the neoliberal model is forward-thinking in outlook. Embracing a system that enables all stakeholders to be actively involved in the governance of the institution. The alternative to neoliberalism is not, therefore, backward or ‘anti-progress’. It is clearly more forward-thinking and ‘progressive’ than the neoliberal model that merely shifts hierarchies whilst factoring in cynical exploitative economics.
Opponents of increasing neoliberal language and ideas are not always, therefore, regressive unreconstructed dinosaurs. The alternative vision is not necessarily one that sees a return to an old fashioned way of delivering a service. It can be just as forward-thinking and ‘radical’, if not more so as it abandons the hierarchies beloved of traditionalists and neoliberals. And yet still to question neoliberal language and ideas is to be seen as a defender of an ‘old order’. As an ‘obstacle’ to progress. As someone that is holding back the profession and the institution. Why should this be?
There is an alternative to the neoliberal model. We can create a system that rejects neoliberal ideology and embraces something new, alternative and radical, something that is distinct from existing norms. We can create a system that is co-operative, democratic and that ensures all stakeholders have an equal say in the delivery of services. This alternative is forward-thinking and radical. The problem is, how to deploy language?
At present there is a lack of clarity regarding what makes a radical, non-traditional alternative to the customer/service or neoliberal models that seem so dominant at present. It is difficult to coherently express this vision when the terms of debate and language have been co-opted by a neoliberal agenda. But it is vitally important to ensure that those that reject the current terms of the debate are not dismissed as irrelevant or as a block on ‘progress’. The alternatives are radical. The alternative is a break from existing orthodoxies. It just hasn’t yet been communicated effectively. If we can communicate the alternative effectively, maybe it could be possible to construct a model that re-casts the relationship between the institution and the user as less cynical and more co-operative.
There was a flurry of tweets and comments this morning in relation to the media coverage of a survey commissioned by the Booktrust on the reading habits of 1,500 adults across England. The Guardian claimed that:
New research shows a stark and “worrying” cultural divide in the UK when it comes to reading, with half the country picking up a book at least once a week for pleasure, and 45% preferring television.
England ‘divided into readers and watchers’
The problem is, the much of the media coverage has been a little confusing. Take this section from The Guardian’s piece:
The England-wide survey of the reading habits of 1,500 adults by the University of Sheffield says that on average, the higher the socio-economic group that someone is in, the more often they read: 27% of DEs never read books themselves, compared with 13% of ABs, while 62% of ABs read daily or weekly, compared with 42% of DEs. Reading charity Booktrust, which commissioned the research, believes its findings should serve as a warning that “Britain’s divided reading culture is a barrier to social mobility”.
This is where I started to question the survey and its reporting. One minute the Guardian claims it reveals how often people read, the next it talks about books. It hardly needs spelling out, but reading does not necessarily equate to reading books.
According to the reporting of this survey’s results, I could read the Guardian (or the BBC) online every day without ever touching a book and yet I would not be considered a ‘reader’. Indeed, I would be considered a ‘watcher’ who would rather watch TV than read. But if I am reading the Guardian’s website on a daily basis, surely that makes me a ‘reader’? Likewise, if I read a magazine, a newspaper or content on any other website, that would also make me a ‘reader’. But according to the reporting of this survey, I am not a reader which seems a bit odd given that I regularly, well, read.
I would guess that, in reality, very few people do not read at all. Of course there are those who cannot read or experience difficulties trying to read, but even then I would imagine the proportion is relatively small. Drawing wide-ranging conclusions and drawing a class division based on the reading of books specifically (and I know people who read but don’t read books) is, in my view, a little simplistic to say the least.
This is not to say that I don’t think there is possibly a problem here that needs addressing. We should certainly be encouraging the reading of books in all their forms, particularly in encouraging children to learn to read. However, as Christopher Warren points out, the report also focuses on book purchasing and does not consider books borrowed from public libraries. This also rather skews the results as it makes the obvious point that those with money buy more books.
So, is there a class divide in reading? Maybe, maybe not. There’s currently no hard evidence to suggest that this is the case, and this survey certainly doesn’t address that particular point. It’s misleading to define reading solely as ‘reading a book’ and it is equally misleading to only draw conclusions based on book buying and not incorporate book borrowing. Despite the media headlines, there is very little to get too worked up about here, other than the media headlines themselves.
Note: Since writing this post, Ned has radically rewritten his post due to some people “misinterpreting” the original. Which is fair enough. It’s slightly annoying that now this post (and Rosie Hare’s excellent post – read it!) seems a bit odd (not least when I have quoted something that now no longer exists, which makes it look like I am fabricating elements of this post – I do have a copy of the original if anyone doubts me!), but I can’t control what other people do on their websites/blogs (nor would I want to!). It does raise some interesting ethical questions, but I can’t be bothered to pose them here to be quite frank. All I’ll add to the post below is that it emerged as a result of some discussion with a number of fellow professionals who raised more or less the same concerns. Indeed, I received a lot of supportive comments after publishing it. It’s not the kind of thing I normally like to get into on this blog as I’m not really interested in writing about issues that are somewhat inward looking professionally. But I thought there were some points that had a broader impact that was worth exploring. Anyway, I shall leave the post here as it is, regardless of the fact it now lacks context. I may, however, close the comments as it seems pointless to leave a thread open to a post that now appears devoid of context. That said, the crux of this post still holds true. I do think it would be a very worthwhile thing for new professionals, uni departments and professional bodies to have some discussion about the courses and whether there are opportunities to develop the programmes. So I guess on that level this post still has some relevance.
I read with interest Ned Potter’s post calling for new professionals to “create your own degree”. It’s fair to say, I think, that I agree with the question Ned poses, but I fundamentally disagree with the answer on a number of levels. Rather than write a comment on Ned’s post, and run the risk of being seen as just a contrary negative type, I thought I’d be better to outline my position in my own blog post (no-one wants blog post length comments on their site!). But first I’ll start with where I agree.
With the caveat that I have only experienced one course and have only heard the odd comment about other courses (so I’m not prepared to make any sweeping generalisations) it seems to me that possibly there is a need to rethink how the courses are structured in terms of content. In my experience, there wasn’t enough focus on social, political or ethical issues (aside from the Information Society module). But I also think there was too much focus on the ‘library’ aspect of the course rather than the ‘information’ part (it is called an MSc in Information and Library Studies after all – more on this later). Of course different people on different courses have different experiences, but if I could wave a magic wand, those are the elements I would boost up (as well as some of the new tech stuff of course). So yes, I agree that the question needs to be posed.
However, I think the framing of the ‘answer’ is particularly troubling in this current climate. In effect, it reinforces the idea that you don’t need a qualification to provide a library service, anyone can do it so long as they attend a few conferences and read a few books or articles. Place this in the context of public libraries, and you have quite possibly made Ed Vaizey’s argument for him. We don’t need professionally delivered library services because there is nothing a librarian can offer that Mr and Mrs Smith down the road can’t do. There are MOOCs they can do, articles they can read, they can pay to attend conferences. So seriously, what’s the point in qualified librarians having anything to do with the service? As someone who follows the issue of public libraries pretty closely, the logical conclusion of the “create your own degree” argument is troubling (it also smacks of a somewhat Conservative individual responsibility position).
I also have problems (and have had with some time) with the librarian/information professional thing. All librarians are information professionals, but not all information professionals are librarians. There are many many other jobs you can do with the qualification aside from ‘librarian’ (I had a list on this site which sadly bit the dust when I had the database fail). Ned says in his post:
They are, in any case, joining a profession which IS dying. It is shrinking and will continue to do so. When people ask me if they should become a librarian, I say no. I personally love it, but how can anyone, in all good conscience, recommend this profession in the current climate? It would be irresponsible to do so.
I don’t think the profession is dying. I think in many respects it’s expanding (there were no Freedom of Information officers before 2001 and Data Protection is becoming increasingly important). There may be fewer opportunities for ‘librarians’ but I would argue this is possibly not true for the information profession in general. So if someone asked me if they should become a librarian, I would not say no. I would say “think about what you can do with a LIS qualification other than a librarian, yet still utilising roughly the same skill set”. That, for me, would be the responsible position. Which brings me back to the design of the courses, it should be about taking a broader look at the profession, upping the ‘information’ aspect. That would then, I think, prepare people far better for a career in the information profession.
Finally, I have general social concerns regarding the belief that someone could spare the time (and expense) to construct their own course. I personally think this would lend itself particularly well to the middle classes, but less so to people of a working class background. You can, after all, get financial support for formal education whereas such support would not be available to attend expensive conferences. Indeed, who would have the funds to pay to attend a course, take a day off work, book accommodation etc etc? Not someone with limited funds. And certainly not if you were working in the private sector (I can well imagine what my boss back in my retail days would have said if I specified I needed a certain batch of days off to attend a conference – even if I could afford it). Cash poor are not necessarily time rich (in fact, I’d argue that they are not time rich at all).
So, I think I should throw down my own challenge. If you believe that someone who works full-time and has limited funds has the time to construct their own degree, I would argue that equally someone in a well-paid, professional post has the time to lobby for better degrees. If you, as an experienced qualified professional, believe the course is not up to scratch, I’d suggest the following:
Because if you think that someone has the time and money to construct their own degree, there is almost certainly no excuse for you not to do the four steps above. We either preach from a position of privilege or we act to bring about the changes that benefit us all. I know which I prefer.
Several years before the 2010 election, the publication of a book by perhaps one of the most influential journalists of the 21st century hinted at the economic will of our political leaders. It explored, drawing on historical record, how ‘massive collective shocks’ (natural disasters, wars, terrorist attacks etc) provided opportunities for those of a certain political outlook. Only last year, Nobel prize winning economist Paul Krugman (awarded for “his analysis of trade patterns and location of economic activity“) claimed that the book “really helps explain a lot about what’s going on in Europe in particular”. In short, Naomi Klein’s Shock Doctrine sets out almost exactly the ideology behind the austerity programme. A programme that is not about returning individual states to economic equilibrium, but about taking advantage of “economic distress” to push through unpopular ideological reforms, regardless of their economic and social impact.
What we are currently witnessing, through the drive to “austerity” and the overzealous pursuit of public sector cuts, is an ideological drive by those beholden to a destructive neoliberal economic philosophy. This is not about economic necessity, despite the oft-repeated rhetoric of Cameron, Osborne and Co. Indeed, we can see some similarities between the course of action being taken by our current Tory/Liberal Democrat coalition and previous examples of the pursuit of shock doctrine economics. The economic experiments conducted in late twentieth century Chile, for example, certainly provide a telling example in terms of where this neoliberal economic ideology may take us.
The experience of Chile in the latter half of the twentieth century tells us much about how some of those on the extremist fringes of the neoliberal right view the balance between the state and corporate interests. In short, the state needs to be scaled back and private control of public services and utilities needs to be expanded, regardless of the will of the people. To pursue these ideological goals was, evidently, near impossible so long as the people could exercise their democratic rights (why would the population support policies that weaken their influence?). Such actions were, therefore, needed to be built on the back of a tyrannical, oppressive dictatorship. An oppressive dictatorship that terrorised its people such that it prevented the emergence of any organised opposition and where, even if it does start to emerge, it is crushed at source.
The Chilean economic experiment had its roots in the murderous overthrow of Salvador Allende, the destruction of its democratic institutions and its replacement with a military dictatorship led by General Augusto Pinochet. Allende’s crime? A programme of nationalisation of Chilean industries and a raft of reforms including: expansion of land redistribution (begun by his predecessor) and government administration of healthcare and education. What was to come following his overthrow was a very different Chile to that envisaged by Allende. One that was less democratic and one which significantly widened the divide between the richest and the poorest in Chilean society.
The shock of a coup against the democratically elected Chilean government provided the window of opportunity required for a number of University of Chicago educated neoclassical economists to seek to influence government economic policy. Receiving their education via an exchange programme with the Catholic University of Chile, students sat obligatory classes on basic economic theory by Milton Friedman, a keen advocate for free market economics. Friedman believed that markets, free from state interference, yielded better economic outcomes than those that resulted in state intervention. His economic thinking had a massive influence on these young Chilean students, who returned to Chile inspired by Friedman’s economic theories. These students became known as “The Chicago Boys”.
Upon their return, after Allende’s successful bid for the presidency, they were so alarmed by the policies enacted by Allende and his adherence to the notion that the state must play a key role to ensure economic prosperity, beliefs that were so alien to the teachings of Friedman et al, that they set about drawing up alternative economic proposals. Upon the conclusion of the coup against Allende, they presented a “189-page draft of diagnosis and proposals“, which they gave to the generals”. By 1975, two years after the coup, Pinochet moved to install a number of Chicago Boys to positions of power in the government. After their installation, the Chicago Boys set about introducing the economic policies inspired by the teachings of Friedman, removing the influence of the state from every aspect of Chilean life. Chief amongst their proposals were the moves to privatise both healthcare and higher education.
The economic experiments in Chile were observed closely by many in the West, keen to move towards a neoliberal economic model, shrinking the role of the state and embracing free markets. This was particularly true in the United Kingdom as the free-marketeers looked to smash the post-war economic orthodoxy founded on the political consensus around Keynesian economic principles (ie that optimal economic performance requires economic intervention by the state). The impact upon higher education was particularly devastating, and some of the consequences of the shift towards privatisation are only just starting to be realised.
Following the coup in 1973, and acting on the guidance of the ‘Chicago Boys’, Pinochet and his accomplices began to radically overhaul the education system. Chief amongst their reforms was the decision to move funding of higher education away from the state and towards the individual. As a result, university students were required to pay tuition fees, either directly or through taxes after graduation. Due to this drive to create a “classic non-interventionist state” under the influence of the Chicago Boy’s economic vision:
“The education system is the most market-driven on the planet with 90 per cent of university education and 35 per cent of secondary schools run by the private sector.”
Such was the depth by which the Chilean education system had been handed over to the market that, in a 2013 OECD report, Chile was found to have the lowest proportion of public expenditure on all four levels of education (pre-primary, primary, secondary and tertiary with 57.9% of education spend coming from public sources (see table B3.1 – PDF).
In terms of higher education, the state contributes approximately 22.1% of the cost of higher education (the UK spends 25.2%), whilst Denmark, Sweden and Norway all spend over 90% (see table B3.2b -PDF). As for Chilean society in general, the country has, according to the Gini index score (which rates the degree of income disparity) the worst score amongst OECD members (it is worth pointing out that the OECD itself does not advocate a system of free higher education). The education system as it has developed in Chile is clearly a reflection of the neoliberal agenda pushed by Milton Friedman via his foot soldiers, the Chicago Boys.
Whilst the reforms in Chile, pushed through by Pinochet under the guidance of the Chicago Boys, were watched with interest by liberal Western governments (not least by those who embraced Friedman’s economic theories) they were not wholly and immediately adopted by his Western admirers. Indeed, there was an understanding that such reforms could prove difficult in a democracy, even zealous advocates such as Margaret Thatcher understood there were limits as to what they could impose. Not least due to an awareness that the introduction of such reforms would run contrary to long-held democratic principles. In an exchange with Friedrich von Hayek, another of Thatcher’s ideological heroes, she flatly rejected his call to fully adopt Pinochet’s economic model, arguing that:
“…in Britain, with our democratic institutions and the need for a higher degree of consent, some of the measures adopted in Chile are quite unacceptable. Our reform must be in line with our traditions and our Constitution. At times, the process may seem painfully slow.”
Despite a shared ideological zeal for the free market ideology preached by Friedman, it was clear that forcing such policies through, without the economic shock to smooth its path, would not be possible in a democratic society with liberal traditions. Some might argue that the necessary ‘shock’ to ensure the safe passage of such reforms came twenty years too late for Thatcher.
Although there was a reluctance to embrace the Chilean economic model in the late seventies/early eighties, there certainly seems to be parallels in this post-economic shock era with the neoliberal reforms enacted by Pinochet and the Chicago Boys. For example, due to the shifting of responsibility from the state to the individual, the majority of students in Chile rely on government-subsidised loans, which often results in substantial debt. In 2012 alone, more than 100,000 students defaulted on their loans owing an average of $5,400, about a quarter of the average annual income. Interestingly, and in a striking parallel, a year earlier in the UK the average student debt was £5,680. The average salary in 2011? £26,200. Debt was, therefore, just under a quarter of the average annual income in the UK. And yet there has been a substantial difference in the way these two societies have reacted to the same problem. Of course, the average debt in the UK is now significantly higher due to increased fees, which underlines the difference in student tolerance levels in the two countries.
In response to these reforms, the student protest movement in Chile has been gathering momentum for some time, with students no longer prepared to accept an enforced ideology that has been in place for many years, despite the recent shift towards a democratic system. The protests reached their peak in 2011 with the “Chilean Winter” protests led by various student leaders including Camila Vallejo, then president of Chile’s main students’ union. Chief amongst their demands: free and equal public education. Specifically, the students demanded (original text in South American Spanish):
The popular support behind the protests was such that it has begun to have a significant impact upon the democratic process in Chile. Michelle Bachelet, elected President towards the end of 2013, vowed to radically overhaul the Chilean economic system with free higher education for all being high on the agenda. Of course, this is deeply troubling for those who profit from the status quo and vehemently oppose a policy of free public higher education, a system common across Latin America. Indeed, so troubling do they find it that Forbes, a publication that is firmly in the free market camp, published an article headlined:
A somewhat interesting and alarmist (if unsurprising) take on the future prosperity of Chile composed by an Executive Director of a think tank that advocates for:
“…limited government, private property, entrepreneurship, private enterprise and a free market economy.”
It’s little surprise that a keen advocate for free markets and private enterprise in Chile is alarmed by the emergence of a leader that has supposedly (and it remains to be seen whether she will make good on her stated intentions) committed to reversing some of the negative impacts of such a system.
But the movement against the existing model is growing in Chile and momentum seems to be building for a rejection of the model that has held sway since the Chicago Boys first began to influence government policy in the early seventies. So much so that former leading figures in the student protest movement, (including Vallejo, Karol Cariola, Giorgio Jackson and Gabriel Boric) won seats in Congress following the 2013 election. Whilst there is still a long way to go to reform higher education in Chile, there are signs that the protest movement is on the verge of a breakthrough, a wholesale rejection of neoliberal economic policies in regard to higher education. Interestingly, their rejection comes around the same time as the government in the UK are turning towards the Chilean model as an answer to a supposed funding shortage. The 2008 ‘shock’ providing the cover that Thatcher did not have at her disposal. Will it be another 40 years before we start to see a rejection of this model in the UK?
If there was any doubt about the extent to which the Chilean economic model influenced the West, one need only consult this article from 1993, three years after the dictatorship came to an end, published in Foreign Affairs (the journal published by the Council on Foreign Relations):
Chileans are bemused by the attention paid the robust economy bequeathed them by General Augusto Pinochet. Reformers as far afield as Europe and America have taken special note of his reform of health care, education and social security…If the Chile model holds, then, nations only learn the hard way – that is, by their own trials and experiences. Nonetheless, Chile’s revolutionary example – the withering away of the state – stands for those inspired to follow.
They certainly did take note. Over twenty years since the people of Chile rejected the dictatorship of Augusto Pinochet, the so-called “Chile model” still influences those of a certain political mindset. In the 1980s the United Kingdom lacked the “shock” required to instigate many of the economic policies adopted in Chile. The global economic crisis in the early part of the twenty first century provided that “shock”, and it also provided the opportunity that many had been waiting for.
There are signs already of what the future might hold should the UK government continue to pursue a course of self-funded higher education. After years of rather timid student action, protests are becoming increasingly common as financial pressures begin to take their toll. If the Chilean experience is any indicator, such protests will grow, becoming more vociferous and influential before, potentially, challenging the orthodoxy and leading to a radical re-think by our political leaders. However, just because a policy creates a certain reaction in one country, does not mean it will be repeated in another. Conditions vary, environments vary, history and culture varies. It would be unwise to predict that the reaction in Chile will be replicated exactly here.
But if there is one thing we can be sure of, there will continue to be reactions. They may be small and sporadic, they might not lead to the kind of organised opposition witnessed in Chile and they might not have an impact that comes even close to that experienced in South America. But, as we continue to follow the path set out by the Chicago Boys in Chile during the 1970s, we may well find there is an increasing reaction against the continued marketisation of higher education.
Just a quick post to say that I had an article published on the Informed website yesterday on the digital divide. Specifically it looks at one aspect of the divide that is never really discussed – that between society and those excluded from it (ie prisoners). It’s an area that I admit I have often overlooked when writing about the topic, but it is an important area for discussion. Should prisoners have access to the internet? If so, to what extent? Or should prisoners be provided with no access to the internet whatsoever as they lost their rights when they were imprisoned?
I’m guessing you can probably work out that I fall in the “yes, they should have access” camp. But I have to concede I am not sure to what extent and what restrictions should be in place. I personally believe that it has the potential to help reduce re-offending rates and for that reason alone it should be investigated. Of course, the problem here is that much of our media would be up in arms at the very thought of internet provision in libraries. More proof that our prisons are luxurious ‘holiday camps’. Speaking as the son of a prison officer, I know that this is untrue but there will be many that believe it.
Anyway, do have a read over at Informed (and if you would like to contribute something to the site, please get in touch!). Feel free to add your comments over there or over here. I’ll be interested to hear your perspective.
Just a quick blog post regarding an article I spotted via my RSS reader this morning (who said RSS was dead??). I’ve sort of touched on this area before and it is one I am very much interested in from a library perspective – the idea of library services that abandon traditional hierarchies and adopt a flattened approach to service management and delivery.
The Next Big Thing You Missed: Companies That Work Better Without Bosses highlights the efforts of Zappos to flatten its hierarchical structures, creating a supposed egalitarian system. (Although, it is worth adding that Zappos is a subsidiary of Amazon and therefore not entirely hierarchy-free – still, it is an interesting concept worth exploring).
What do you think? Is it possible to create a ‘holacracy’ in libraries? Would it even be desirable? What would it even look like? I’d be interested to hear what people think.
A little while back I wrote a post pondering whether the internet has, in terms of the way we are governed, been an opportunity missed. For me, the arrival of the internet had the potential to revolutionise our political life. In democracies it offered the opportunity to more closely connect the governed with the governing and in totalitarian regimes it offered the opportunity to breakdown barriers and help to shape a society that is more open and democratic. Whilst the internet has helped facilitate communication between citizens, and led to a degree of change in the way we are governed, the changes have, as has been the case throughout history, benefited the powerful rather than the powerless.
The internet has, undoubtedly, led to a change in the way in which we communicate with each other. We share far more with complete strangers than we would ever have been comfortable with in the past. In many respects, this is relatively harmless. We choose to volunteer certain information about what we are reading, what we are eating, where we are going…harmless information of little interest to anyone.
But, as the NSA revelations have demonstrated, information has also been collected by the state, information that was not publicly published by citizens and instead obtained by tapping into cloud networks. As the Washington Post reported:
…the NSA’s acquisitions directorate sends millions of records every day from internal Yahoo and Google networks to data warehouses at the agency’s headquarters at Fort Meade, Md. In the preceding 30 days, the report said, field collectors had processed and sent back 181,280,466 new records — including “metadata,” which would indicate who sent or received e-mails and when, as well as content such as text, audio and video.
In short, communication between ourselves has changed, as has the amount of information on us available to the state, but the relationship between the governed and the governing has remained fundamentally unchanged.
Indeed, in some respects the NSA revelations might just be a high watermark in terms of informing the governed about the activities of the governing, or at least in terms of the balance between the information available to the governed and that available to the governing. Could it be that, despite the opportunity afforded us by new technology, we have already passed a point where there is a balance in the flow of information between the governing and the governed? Was there even really any balance at all? Will the future see the balance tip ever further in favour of the governing?
It would seem hard to believe that the revelations by Edward Snowden are going to repeated any time soon. Fine words will be said in public, but it seems unlikely that the reaction will be anything other than the tightening of internal procedures to ensure that another Snowden is not on the cards in the future. History suggests that the response will not be to increase transparency, but to tighten the grip on state information, ensuring nothing leaks out that might alarm the governed. Indeed, the fact that both Snowden and The Guardian are faced with calls to be prosecuted suggests that the governing are unlikely to suddenly open up and embrace transparent governance.
On a smaller scale, it is also the case in the UK that the right of the governed to know what the governing are doing is threatened with restriction. The UK has often been seen as one of the most secretive of the Western democracies, certainly more guarded of its internal operations than the United States (whose Freedom of Information Act preceded the UK’s by 35 years). Whilst the introduction of the Freedom of Information Act in 2001 offered hope that perhaps we were entering a new era of transparent governance, Tony Blair’s regret at introducing it underlines the extent to which it has been introduced with great reluctance and, consequently, there have been frequent and sustained attempts to undermine the legislation.
We see this partly in the way that the current government believes that publication of masses of data negates the need for freedom of information legislation, never mind that it is not solely pure data that the governed wish to obtain. It’s also the kind of information that the state wishes to conceal by using methods which, they believe, circumnavigate existing legislation. And now we understand that the recently replaced Justice Minister, Lord McNally, has indicated that the government is to consult on FoI restrictions. From the Campaign for Freedom of Information blog:
…the Justice Minister Lord McNally says the government is not committed to implementing all the proposals it has put forward but adds “It is however right that we should seek to ensure that the costs the FOIA imposes on public authorities are not excessive, especially in the current economic climate, and are proportionate to the many benefits that the FOIA brings.”
The minister says that the government’s aim “is not a widespread reduction in transparency but to focus on the small minority of requests which are disproportionately burdensome”. However, the proposals are not targeted at particularly burdensome requests but would restrict access by allusers, including those making occasional requests of modest scope.
The government is still considering the options, Lord McNally says, and will consult the public “in the near future” on those it decides take forward. It seems likely that further moves to restrict the Act are on the way.
So have we reached a point where the information we have access to on the governing is going to rapidly decline, whilst the information the state has on the governed will continue to steadily increase? I may be cynical, but I find it hard to believe that there will be any balance any time soon, and certainly not a shift in favour of the governed. Once the Snowden furore dies down it will be business as normal for the state and our ability to access information on the governing will be severely diminished whilst ours is expanded in ever more complex and secretive ways. The history of the actions of the governing provides no evidence that it will slow down or reverse the collection of data on the governed.
The mechanism available to us through the development of the internet provides us with an opportunity to create a truly open, transparent and democratic system of governance. A system that ensures that the individual is free from state deception and that gives the governed the right to full public disclosure on all matters pertaining to peace, security, ecology and finance. At present the balance is too heavily weighted in favour of information flowing upwards. And that is not to any of our benefits.