Sound over substance

Friday January 13, 2012

Political image making leads to bad policy and undermines our democracy, says Peter Lloyd

Are there any large organisations in the public or private sector that don’t have a PR officer? Or a ‘communications team’ trying to ‘manage the message’ and create an image for themselves? There must be very few. At least those in the private sector don’t usually affect the man in the street very much. If companies want to spend millions of pounds on bending, disguising or even denying the truth then it’s up to them. It may be unhealthy but mostly we can see through it.

But it should be different in government when so much of our relationship with politicians is based on the trust we have to place in their words and actions. We are not buying a product from them that we can send back if it’s faulty.

Public policy has complicated and uncertain effects, which means that sophistry, false imagery and scaremongering are easy to interpose by proponents and opponents of policy for whom integrity is not always a guiding principle. Politicians, with the compliance and encouragement of the media, rely on imagery rather than clearly expressed arguments for their influence and success. This can have damaging consequences as the following two examples show.

In 2009 Sir Michael (now Lord) Bichard, who headed the inquiry into the notorious Soham murders, said that he never meant his recommendations to result in the introduction of the widespread Criminal Record Bureau checks and the “Vetting and Barring” regime which led to 11.3 million people in Britain potentially being subject to investigation and registration. Millions of people going about ordinary activities such as helping each other with school runs or volunteering were to come under suspicion.

When the legislation constructing this regime, “The Safeguarding Vulnerable Groups Bill” came before Parliament in 2006, MPs from all parties strongly supported the draconian measures because they wanted to burnish their image of being tough on paedophiles and sympathetic to the victims of crime.

There was no democratic mandate for the restrictions of freedom being proposed, no public clamour for the measures, only genuine horror at the crime itself – a perfectly understandable human reaction.

Something similar happened in 2008 with the Climate Change Act. The government was proposing a policy that would risk a de-industrialisation of Britain. This was the proposal to cut 1990 C02 emission levels by 60% by 2050. It would be one of the most radical policies introduced in Britain since World War II. This was because of the certain costs involved, and the uncertainty about whether “green” energy could come close to replacing fossil fuels, even at high prices and with big subsidies.

Rather than express grave concern about the cost and disruption to the British people and to Britain’s competitive position (bearing in mind that we were the only country legislating in this way) MPs competed to express their doubts as to whether it was enough. Incredibly, in the febrile atmosphere of the moment, chest beating MPs pressed for an even tougher regime which was introduced into the parliamentary debate at the last minute – a cut to 1990 emissions of 80% by 2050. This would guarantee a long period of dislocation in Britain’s competitiveness once the policy was implemented.

MPs voted by 463 – 3 in favour of the stronger measure despite finding out towards the end of the debate (after an enterprising MP decided to ask the Department of Energy and Climate Change) that the 80% target would cost their country’s people at least £18bn per year for the foreseeable future. That figure has subsequently been revised upwards as implementation begins.

While this panic-stricken approach to policy making is not new, its prevalence and impact is growing. Such behaviour, whilst irrational in terms of cost and proportionality, makes sense if seen in the light of highly charged and relentless media coverage and singe minded lobbying from pressure groups. In both examples cited here there was a powerful need to be seen to be doing something even if it was likely to be futile and costly.

The perceived need to focus on the message and the image explains the introduction of perverse policies that are disproportionate, don’t reflect the views of ordinary people, can severely restrict freedom and cost billions of pounds.