In recent years, many researchers and social activists from very different countries, like myself, have rediscovered the notion of the commons as a key idea to deepen social and environmental justice and democratise both politics and the economy. This reappropriation has meant questioning the vanguardist and hierarchical visions, structures and practices that for too long have characterised much of the left. This concept has resurfaced in parallel with the growing distrust in the market and the state as the main suppliers or guarantors of access to essential goods and services. The combined pressures of climate change and the crisis of capitalism that exploded in 2008 (a permanent and global crisis, which is no longer a series of conjunctural or cyclical recessions) force us to reconsider old paradigms, tactics and strategies. This means discarding both the obsolete models of planning and centralised production at the core of the so-called ‘real socialism’ of the last century and the state capitalism that we see today in China and a few other supposedly socialist countries, as well as the equally old and failed structures of present-day deregulated capitalist economies.

At first, the concept of the commons was disseminated by progressive intellectuals inspired by the work of Elinor Ostrom, the first woman to win the Nobel Prize in Economics, in 2009. Ostrom, an American political scientist, was a progressive academic, but could hardly be classified as a radical thinker or as a leftist activist. In the last decade, academics and activists from very diverse ideological families of the left have reviewed her contributions and have engaged in intense theoretical debates about the potential of the commons, based on the analysis of many inspiring prefigurative experiences currently underway.

Ostrom’s main contribution was to demonstrate that many self-organised local communities around the world successfully managed a variety of natural resources without relying on market mechanisms or state institutions. Currently, it is possible to identify various perspectives in the theoretical debates around the commons, but in general they all converge on the importance of a third space between the state and the market (which should not be confused with the Third Way outlined by Anthony Giddens and adopted by politicians as dissimilar as Tony Blair in Britain, Bill Clinton in the United States, or Fernando Henrique Cardoso in Brazil as a hypothetical social democratic alternative to socialism and neoliberalism).

Nowadays, a quick search in Google about the commons results in millions of references. Most definitions tend to characterise commons as spaces for collective management of resources that are co-produced and managed by a community according to their own rules and norms. We (TNI) have recently published a report on the commons in partnership with the P2P Foundation, in which we refer to this concept as the combination of four basic elements: (1) material or immaterial resources managed collectively and democratically; (2) social processes that foster and deepen cooperative relationships; (3) a new logic of production and a new set of productive processes; and (4) a paradigm shift, which conceives the commons as an advance beyond the classical market/state or public/private binary oppositions.

In Latin America and Spain, those of us interested in this field of activism and research must overcome a linguistic obstacle, since the translation of the concept of the commons from English into Spanish is not always easy or appropriate. This problem also appears in other parts of the world, so we often use the original English word to avoid confusion. Some of our friends and comrades use the concept of bienes comunes, but this term refers to ideas linked to the old economy or the social imaginary propagated by the church and other conservative institutions, without capturing all the richness, complexity and potential of recent theoretical developments and empirical processes around the commons. Obviously, the production of meaning in this field has already spread beyond the Anglo-Saxon world and there are already many people in countries of the South involved in this type of processes. That’s why the P2P Foundation and other friendly organisations have added a new word to the Spanish dictionary, procomún, while others (like myself) prefer to use the word comunes, which derives from a literal translation of the original term. From a similar perspective, many European or African activists prefer to use the English term instead of bens comuns (Portuguese), beni comuni (Italian), biens communs (in French), or gemeingüter (German).

Are the concepts of ‘the commons’ and ‘the public’ synonymous?

This question is the axis of heated theoretical debates, since it alludes to the old discussion about the nature and role of the state. The defenders of the commons who are most disillusioned with the left in government in several Latin American countries, particularly those linked to the fundamentalist autonomist current (like many of my friends in the Andean region, mainly those who are involved in struggles around the rights to water or energy) are convinced that the state should not assume any role and that the social order should be restructured by transferring political and economic power to self-organised local communities. Other researchers and activists (including myself, something that’s not surprising having been born in a country as state-centric as Uruguay) retort that such a contradiction is artificial and that we should at the same time expand the reach and influence of the commons – for example, by creating and interconnecting new types of authentically self-managed cooperative enterprises– and democratising or ‘commonising’ the state – for instance, incorporating workers and users into the management of existing state-owned enterprises or creating new public-public partnerships for the provision of essential public services.

My friend Michel Bauwens, a Belgian social activist internationally recognised as one of the most creative and influential thinkers in this field, often highlights the importance of what he has characterised as the partner state. From his (and mine) perspective, the state is perceived not as the enemy, but as an entity that could provide local communities and self-organised workers with the institutional, political or economic power that would be required for these processes to reach their maximum potential in the framework of the political and economic transition that we need. It also means, among several other possibilities to be considered, the provision of financial or in-kind support for cooperatives or other initiatives inspired by the notion of the commons.

The idea of the ​​partner state is in line with some relatively recent theoretical debates among Marxist thinkers. Today, and especially after a series of counter-hegemonic governments that we have had in Latin America, we’re already very aware that the contemporary state is not simply that “committee for the management of the common affairs of the bourgeoisie” that Marx and Engels referred to in the Communist Manifesto. Neither Marx nor Engels were interested in developing a unified or integral theory about the state, so we should not interpret their statement (from the year 1848!) literally,. In the 1970s, Nikos Poulantzas and other non-dogmatic thinkers began to rethink the institutional framework of capitalist societies and argued that the state should be understood as a social relationship and not as an abstract entity floating above conflicting social classes, and added that the transformation of state institutions could be possible in the context of a “democratic way to socialism” (opened by the government experience of Popular Unity in Chile and brutally repressed by a military coup in 1973). More recently, Bob Jessop has shown how, although the state has a strong structural bias towards the reproduction of social relations, it’s also influenced by the totality of social forces, including counter-hegemonic struggles. My perspective of analysis on the state and the commons is very influenced by Jessop, and also by David Harvey, when he argues that a big problem on the left is that many – pointing to John Holloway and other proponents of the thesis of “changing the world without taking power” – think that the capture of state power wouldn’t be of much importance in emancipatory processes. We must recognise the incredible power accumulated in the institutions of the state and, therefore, we shouldn’t underestimate the importance of state institutions; in particular when there’re opportunities to enable the expansion of the commons.

To those who are interested in deepening the knowledge of contemporary theoretical debates on the state and the commons, I would recommend reading our comrade Hilary Wainwright, the British political economist with whom I co-coordinate the TNI New Politics Project. A few years ago Hilary wrote a beautiful book, Reclaim the State: Experiments in Popular Democracy, where she argued the need to ‘occupy’ state institutions while, in parallel, we organise ourselves to create and connect new political and economic institutions rooted in local communities and workers’ collectives. Her books, the one mentioned here and more recent ones, are based on the detailed investigation of positive examples of commons-related initiatives across the Globe.

In recent years, within the framework of our New Politics project, Hilary, myself, and many other activist-scholars from different regions of the world have tried to make sense of a substantial shift in emancipatory thinking. Until not long ago, the economic policy of much of the left included the proposal of nationalisation of key industries. Nowadays, and maybe influenced by the recognition of the failures or shortcomings of nationalisation in places like Venezuela (where in recent years there’s been a recentralisation of political and economic power in the hands of the bureaucrats and military that control the reins of the state, with very negative in terms of lesser autonomy and influence for popular organisations and with very bad indicators in the management of nationalised companies) many of us are more interested in the design of a new economy based on cooperative relations, in which state institutions would play a facilitating and protective role. We emphasise the importance of public ownership of public services and productive infrastructure, but only as long we ensure a significant level of decentralised ownership and management; for example, in the provision of water and energy services and in the production of a vast range of goods through networks of self-managed ventures.

This perspective also means a deeper and more serene examination of the ambivalent consequences of the scientific and technological changes currently underway. We already know that the emerging forms of organisation and control of information and communication technologies and distributed production constitute a very contested space, in which a few transnational corporations (I’m thinking of Uber, Airbnb and other examples of the wrongly called ‘sharing economy’) financialise and benefit from precarious workers, the users of social networks and independent software programmers – with negative impacts on unions’ power and on the quality of work – but we should also be able to recognise that the same technological developments could be beneficial for the (re)creation of truly solidarity, democratic and self-managed forms of ownership and management. Around the world, we can see the emergence of a new generation of workers who use their technological knowledge to launch new enterprises and networks based on the principles of the commons and coordinate and collaborate among themselves, transcending economic sectors and geographical borders, and being ethically (and increasingly also politically) aware of the new social and economic order they’re creating.

How would you appraise the so-called ‘pink tide’ in Latin America vis-à-vis the commons?

My personal perspective on these issues has evolved, as I tried to understand the arguments of comrades from other Latin American countries who posed a very strong critique of the statist political culture prevalent in some political and academic circles of the region. Like many Uruguayans, it was hard for me to assimilate the positions of compañeros like Pablo Solón in Bolivia, Edgardo Lander in Venezuela, Arturo Escobar in Colombia, Maristella Stampa in Argentina, or Eduardo Gudynas himself in Uruguay. They (and many others) are strong critics of ‘development’, and in particular of its ‘(neo)extractivist’ component. In short, my critique to them focused on two aspects: their staunch criticism of the state, and their inability to formulate alternatives or proposals to transcend the reality that they criticised. With the passage of time, and after many and agitated discussions with Pablo and Edgardo in workshops at the World Social Forum, seminars of our New Politics project and other similar spaces, I could understand that their criticisms of the state (not always so homogeneous nor so acidic as I perceived them) were not that far from my own criticism of the Latin American left, and I also ended up realising that indeed there were proposals embedded in their criticisms.

My position on these issues has also been influenced by my increasingly pessimistic interpretation of the outcomes of our progressive of left governments. After having followed very closely the processes of Venezuela, Ecuador, Argentina, Uruguay and Brazil, and to a lesser extent also those of Bolivia and Nicaragua, I think we should ask ourselves up to what point is it possible for the left to get involved in government without losing autonomy and our utopian perspective. In other word: is it possible to operate within the state apparatus without being caught in the demobilising logic of institutional power? Unlike some of the friends I mentioned before, I don’t have a single or categorical answer to such question. I still believe that the state has a very important role to play, but I’m also convinced that it is now imperative for the left to get rid of its obsolete state-centric vision and open up to fresh perspectives like those of the commons.

For the Uruguayan left, such transition could be difficult, if we consider the heavy weight of the state in our society, politics, economics and culture. A significant difference between Uruguay and most other countries in the region is its long tradition of strong and efficient state-owned companies, which are highly appreciated by the population. In Uruguay, people perceive the state as a catalyst for development and guarantor of equity and social integration. On the other hand, the transition could be made easier if we consider the already high significance of workers’ and housing cooperatives. I grew up in a mutual-aid housing cooperative, so I might not be entirely objective. And we know that not all cooperatives are well managed or are internally democratic or participatory, but when we compare the reality of the Uruguayan cooperative sector with other countries of the region and the world, it’s clear that we already have a very fertile terrain for the development of the commons.

From a purely theoretical or ideological point of view, many components of the current global debate around the commons wouldn’t be a novelty for the Uruguayan left. If we look at several parties that compose the ruling coalition Frente Amplio(Broad Front), we realise that parties as different as the Progressive Christian Democrats (PDC, the advocates of the thesis of socialismo autogestionario, self-managed socialism), the People’s Victory Party (PVP, in line with their libertarian roots), or the Socialist Party (PS, with their proposal of transition from co-management to self-management, which the party has been advocating since 1930, when it demanded workers’ control of the economy) have been for a long time formulating programmatic ideas that transcend the limits of statism.

In other countries of the region, it would seem that the proposal of the commons would be more compatible with the governmental discourse. In fact, the proponents of the commons in Europe often refer to the concepts of vivir bien (living well) or buen vivir (good living), which came from Latin America. These concepts became popular on a world scale as a supposed alternative paradigm to capitalism. The concepts of suma qamaña and sumaq kawsay have their roots in the economic and societal models developed over centuries by the indigenous peoples of the Andean and Amazonian regions, prioritising forms of production more horizontal and in harmony with nature. The translation (or ‘export’) into other languages and cultures is problematic, but in the countries of origin the significance of these concepts can be debated as well. Bolivia and Ecuador, during the governments led by Evo Morales and Rafael Correa, incorporated the notions of living well and good living in their respective constitutions and policy guidelines, but the policies implemented have not always been coherent with the spirit or with the letter of the new legal and institutional framework. In Ecuador, in the framework of the very radical turn to the right performed by president Lenin Moreno in recent months, the discourse of buen vivir (which sounds beautiful and guarantees a left patina) is being used to provide justification for an impending wave of privatisation and corporatization of public services. In Venezuela, there was also much talk around self-management and people’s power, and considerable resources were allocated to the creation of cooperatives and associative ventures of a new type, but in practice very little progress was achieved; the rentier model based on the exploitation of a single resource – oil – deepened during the governments of Hugo Chávez and Nicolás Maduro, and its current exhaustion is the most important factor to explain the political, economic and social crisis that the country suffers today.

What are the organisational and programmatic challenges of the left for the integration of the idea of the commons into its political platform?

To answer this question, I should start by clarifying that I do not believe that the promotion of the commons should be the only strategy of the left. I believe that we must embrace the emancipatory vision of the commons, but without forgetting the role of the state and the need to respond to the very urgent problems of large sectors of the population. I agree with the criticisms of the hegemonic model of development and support the struggles against extractivism. I also tend to agree with many elements (not the whole package) of the emerging theorisation around the concept of degrowth – which is already very influential among European left circles, but not very significant within the Latin American left. But I disagree with visions such as Escobar’s when he speaks of “underdevelopment” as a mere “narration”, presenting it as an abstract concept that the colonialists would have elaborated and spread for the colonized to repeat. We can’t ignore the terrible rates of poverty, exclusion, and poor access to basic goods and services that still affect millions of Latin Americans. Our region should be incorporated into the global fight against climate change, and we must promote new forms of organisation and production that preserve the ecological balance, but we must also respond to social demands in the context of a quite likely deterioration of the economic situation in the short or medium terms. In that sense, I believe that the impulse to the commons must be framed within a broader strategy of growth, different from that offered by predatory and savage capitalism.

Thinking about the specific conditions of Uruguay, and based on data and projections published by local researchers, it should already be evident that the promotion of mega-projects like the huge paper mills run by Finnish corporations, or the already privatisation of the wind segment of the energy sector, don’t constitute the most appropriate developmental strategy. I would have preferred that the effort made by the government to convince us that the attraction of direct foreign investment and the liberalisation of trade are the right path would have been accompanied by serious studies sustained by reliable information to appraise the pros and cons of two different strategies: supporting large private investment on the one hand, and the promotion of the local and popular solidarity economy on the other. What would be the impacts of redirecting the tax exemptions and the large explicit or covert subsidies received by large transnational corporations if all that money were used to support cooperatives and other associative enterprises rooted in the national economy? I don’t have concrete answers to these queries, but I know that other Uruguayan economists and social researchers also raise similar questions and could provide objective and relevant information to deepen this exchange.

How to incorporate the commons within a political project that aims at the de-commodification of public services?

In Latin America we have many valuable examples of de-commodification of public services, past and present, that we should reconsider in the framework of current exchanges around the commons. A few years ago, during the heyday of what we then praised as the Bolivarian ‘revolution’, I worked in Venezuela and I was able to appreciate very closely the emergence of multiple processes of popular self-organisation in which millions of people participated. I’m referring to the mesas técnicas (people’s technical committees), the consejos comunitarios de agua(community water councils), the consejos comunales (communal councils) and the comunas (communes). Unfortunately, most of these processes are no longer in existence or in terminal crisis. Individualism and competition has been stronger than solidarity and cooperation in the responses to the crisis that Venezuela is experiencing today. This is a sad realisation, which forces us to question ourselves about the reasons and the conditions that made possible the erosion of processes that many of us considered very strong and even irreversible. A large part of the communal and participatory initiatives that had emerged in the most fecund years of the Venezuelan transition have gone into rapid regression when faced with the loss of the resources provided by the state (of which they had become dependent), in the context of the terrible deterioration of the social and economic situation. I think that many lessons can emerge from Venezuela, both on the potential of the commons and on the fragility of processes of this type. It also forces us to rethink the limits of ‘revolutionary’ political projects that are excessively focused on the state.

At the international level, and taking as a basis for analysis the European reality – which is the one that today I know better, since it’s my place of residence, activism and research – I believe that Latin Americans could ‘import’ some interesting ideas from current European exchanges on alternatives to commodification and corporatization. The side of the European left most active side in the promotion of the commons is that linked to struggles around the right to the city and the citizen platforms that won local office in several Spanish cities. Today, an important part of the European left perceives the city as the privileged space for political, social and economic experimentation, without seeing cities as isolated entities or at the margin of processes aimed at changing the state on a national scale, but recognising their growing significance in the new regional and world order. It’s not by chance that the fight against climate change or for the recovery of public services are led by networks of progressive local governments. Barcelona En Comú, the citizen coalition that now governs the Catalan capital, in particular, is a very powerful source of inspiration of regional and world importance. The political influence of Barcelona today is comparable to the hope that Porto Alegre, Montevideo and other Latin American capitals had been generated in the 1980s and 1990s, when the left began to experiment with participatory budgeting and other innovative policies for the radicalisation of democracy at the municipal level. Barcelona is today a laboratory for the design and testing of multiple initiatives inspired by the principle of the commons.

Another possible source of inspiration could be the current program of the British Labour Party. Since Jeremy Corbyn became party leader, Labour has become much more radical than our Frente Amplio and most other left parties in Latin America and Europe. The Labour Party has a proposal for renationalisation that’s much more advanced than similar initiatives applied or proposed anywhere else in the world. In the specific case of the energy sector, Corbyn and his party propose to bring back the sector into public hands, so that the country’ energy becomes environmentally sustainable, affordable for users, and managed with democratic control, as stated in the programmatic manifesto launched last year. But renationalisation, from this perspective, does not simply implies that the state retakes control by going back to the obsolete state-owned companies of the past, but rather the combination of different forms of public ownership and management. In short, Labour proposes not merely to re-nationalise companies that had been privatised during Thatcherism and Blairism, but to reconvert the big banks and other financial institutions that during the crisis had been saved from bankruptcy with public monies into a network of local banks based on mixed ownership (state and social), or the creation of new municipal utilities. The party is committed to create new municipal utilities, inspired by some socially-owned companies already in operation – such as Robin Hood Energy in Nottingham – or by popular campaigns – such as Switched On London – that propose the de-privatisation of power through the launch of new public enterprises, rooted in a more democratic type of management based on the active participation of users and workers, being environmentally sustainable, and securing services with affordable rates for the entire population.

Originally posted at the Transnational Institute Website

Lead image by Roger Cunyan. Additional image by Isabella Jusková.

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Aaron Fernando: On July 3, the Co-operative Party in the U.K. launched a report at parliament outlining a strategy to double the size of the U.K.’s cooperative sector by 2030. The report, written by the think tank New Economics Foundation (NEF), was commissioned by the Co-operative Party and comprises a vision of the party’s goals. The report, titled “Co-Operatives Unleashed” reviews the current state of the co-op sector in the U.K., features case studies from other European nations, provides a snapshot of existing hurdles for the co-op sector, and offers policy recommendations for advancing this sector.

The report outlines the economic benefits of economies with healthy co-operative sectors. It cites statistics showing that co-ops have a 25 percent higher chance of surviving their first three years of operation than conventional businesses. They also have lower staff turnover and  lower pay inequality. The report notes that “the five largest co-operatives paid 50 percent more corporate tax than Amazon, Facebook, Apple, eBay and Starbucks combined.” In 2017, the U.K. had approximately 6,000 co-ops with 13.6 million members — lagging well behind most other OECD countries, according to the report. Meanwhile, workers in the U.K. have seen wages stagnate for 150 years and any economic growth has mainly benefitted a very small portion of the population, the report notes.

Yet “Co-Operatives Unleashed” stops short of advocating for co-ops as a total replacement for traditional businesses, and acknowledges that co-ops can face issues regarding scaling and may not be suited for “sectors involving high capital intensity… due to the higher cost and risks that members would bear.” Rather, the report advocates that co-ops should function as complement to traditional businesses. “When you look at the UK economy in light of Brexit and the challenges faced in the U.K. economy, a lot of those problems are symptoms for the fact that in the U.K. there isn’t a strong enough mix of different types of ownership,” says Ben West, communications officer with the UK Co-operative Party.

The UK Co-operative Party was founded a little over a century ago in 1917. A decade later it entered into an electoral pact with the Labour Party, agreeing not to run candidates against each other and sometimes running joint candidates under the Labour and Co-operative banner, says West.

Under this alliance, the 2017 Labour Party Manifesto contained the express commitment “to double the size of the co-operative sector in the UK,” the detailed strategy of which is laid out in this report. Though Labour Party, led by Jeremy Corbyn, is currently the opposition, “this piece of work is saying that if a future government of whatever party wanted to take on that commitment and make it happen, [these] would the steps be in order to actually deliver that,” West says.

It is noted in the report that the governments of counties with highly-developed cooperative sectors are obligated to recognize and promote co-operative businesses just as they would traditional enterprises — and that the same practices should be adopted in the U.K.

“When you look at other European countries, within their economies, a lot of their success is that there’s a really broad mix of different ownership types,” West says, citing the German energy and banking sectors specifically, where there is a mix of municipal entities, private firms, and socially-owned cooperatives.

The report puts forth a specific strategy of five interlocking steps for achieving this goal in the given timeframe:

1. A new legal framework for co-operatives

2. Finance that serves the co-operative agenda

3. Deepening co-operative capabilities through a Co‐operative Development Agency

4. Transforming business ownership

5. Accelerating community wealth building initiatives

These steps include the development of a legal framework which supports the development of future cooperatives and removes disincentives for cooperative growth. Specifically, this would involve the creation of legal structures, financial instruments, and mechanisms that co-ops can choose to use which would allow them to do things like lock in assets and wealth earned in the co-operative economy so that it stays in the cooperative economy.

Another strategy involves legally formalizing the ability for employees to buy existing businesses and transform them into co-ops. According to figures in the report, there are approximately 120,000 family-run small and medium enterprises that will undergo an ownership transfer in the next three years. If only 5 percent of those businesses transition into some form of co-operative model, the U.K.’s cooperative sector would double in size. As such, one of the strategies involves streamlining this type of transition.

Other policy recommendations in the report include technical support and information sharing for the sector, tax advantages for cooperative businesses, and the establishment of a National Investment Bank with “a mandate to supply patient risk capital specifically to the co-operative mutual and social enterprise sector.”

The strategy is multifaceted and ambitious, but the goal is for it to take place gradually over the next twelve years. “The mission now is as it was in the beginning: to stand up for the interests of the co-operatives that exist in the U.K., where there are laws that are holding back their expansion,” West says. “We want to create a favorable environment for cooperatives.”

The full report is available here.

Header image is screenshot from the report.

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By Thomas M. Hanna, Joe Guinan and Joe Bilsborough: There is no telling when the next UK general election will come, and when the Corbyn Project could accede to national political power in what R.H. Tawney once called ‘the oldest and toughest plutocracy in the world’. But there is still plenty of work to be done in the meantime. While there were some advances in last month’s local elections, the mixed results underscore the difficulty of mobilisation around a stale and sterile managerialist model of local government, as embodied in all too many Labour councils.

Austerity at the national level may have been eased, at least rhetorically, but a fiscal crisis of the local state still rages. Since 2010, government funding to local authority budgets has been slashed by 49.1 per cent, with more pain still to come; by 2020, cuts in central government funding are forecast to reach 56.3 per cent. Although plans for all councils to receive 100 per cent rates retention by 2019/2020 have been placed on ice, cuts premised on this change continue unabated. Almost half of all councils are set to lose all central government funding by 2019/2020, with a yawning £5.8bn funding gap opening up by the end of the decade. Even with the best will in the world—clearly lacking in places like Haringey, where until recently a ghoulish Blairite zombie local government politics still walked at night—this has not been a promising context in which to build political support for and project out a Corbyn-inflected ‘new economics’.

But difficulty need not be impossibility—as can be seen in the path taken by the flagship Labour council of Preston in Lancashire. In a few short years Preston has gone from being one of the most deprived parts of the country to a model of radical innovation in local government through its embrace of community wealth building as a modern reinvention of the longstanding political tradition of municipal socialism. Community wealth building is a local economic development strategy focused on building collaborative, inclusive, sustainable, and democratically controlled local economies. Instead of traditional economic development through public-private partnerships and private finance initiatives, which waste billions to subsidize the extraction of profits by footloose corporations with no loyalty to local communities, community wealth building supports democratic collective ownership of—and participation in—the economy through a range of institutional forms and initiatives. These include worker co-operatives, community land trusts, community development finance institutions, so-called ‘anchor’ procurement strategies, municipal and local public enterprise, participatory planning and budgeting, and—increasingly, it is to be hoped—public banking. Community wealth building is economic system change, but starting at the local level.

The term first emerged in the United States in 2005, and was coined by our colleagues at The Democracy Collaborative. It was used to describe the model then beginning to emerge in the severely disinvested inner-city neighbourhoods of some of America’s larger cities as a response to crisis and austerity. As federal and state fiscal transfers dried up, social pain intensified in communities that had long been suffering from high levels of unemployment and poverty. Precisely because large public expenditures for jobs and housing were seen to be no longer politically achievable, more and more people started turning to economic alternatives in which new wealth could be built collectively and from the bottom up.

There are now two flagship models of community wealth building—and a growing number of additional efforts in cities across the United States and United Kingdom.  The first model is the Evergreen Cooperatives in Cleveland, Ohio—created, in part, by our own organisation, The Democracy Collaborative. Cleveland had lost almost half of its population and most of its large publicly-traded companies due to deindustrialisation, disinvestment, and capital flight. But it still had very large non-profit and quasi-public institutions such as the Cleveland Clinic, Case Western Reserve University, and University Hospitals—known as anchor institutions because they are rooted in place and aren’t likely to up and leave. Together, Cleveland’s anchors were spending around $3 billion per year, very little of which was previously staying in the local community. The Democracy Collaborative worked with them to localise a portion of their procurement in support of a network of purposely-created green worker co-ops, the Evergreen Co-operatives, tied together in a community corporation so that they too are rooted in place. Today these companies are profitable and are beginning to eat the lunch of the multinational corporations that had previously provided contract services to the big anchors. Last month came the announcement of an expansion of the Evergreen Cooperative Laundry to a new site serving the needs of the Cleveland Clinic, with a hundred new employees on fast track to worker ownership.

The ‘Cleveland Model’ is one of the sources of inspiration for Preston, now the pre-eminent example of community wealth building approaches in the UK. Back in 2012, Evergreen caught the attention of Labour councillor Matthew Brown, now a colleague at The Democracy Collaborative. With the help of others, such as Neil McInroy at the Centre for Local Economic Strategies (CLES), Brown took the Cleveland Model and radically expanded it. The ‘Preston Model’ now encompasses a string of public sector anchors across Preston and Lancashire, to which has been added public pension fund investment, affordable housing, and—hopefully, in the near future—an energy company and a community bank.

A longstanding tradition

Both the Cleveland and Preston Models represent a reinvention of a longstanding political tradition that played a significant role in the development of mass socialist politics in Europe and North America—and could now do so again, just when such a politics is most needed. In the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, activists on both sides of the Atlantic began to articulate a sophisticated political-economic theory of change. They suggested that by advancing a radical yet popular economic strategy of democratised ownership, good governance, and better working conditions at the local level, they could begin to build political power from the ground up. “Little by little the conditions of the people are to be improved”, Carl Thompson, a Wisconsin State Legislator and one of the United States’ leading municipal socialists, argued in 1907. “[T]hus, in every way, society will be gradually prepared for and led into the experience of Social-Democracy” (Thompson, 1908, 28). Similarly, in Britain in 1919, the Russian émigré and radical journalist Theo Rothstein asserted that local councils should be transformed “into so many forts from which to assail the Capitalist order” (Rothstein, 1919).

Municipal socialists believed that by pursuing policies and conducting campaigns around economic issues that directly affected the community, they could build durable political coalitions, raise the aspirations and political awareness of ordinary working people, and develop the political and administrative skills for further social and economic transformation (Judd, 1989; Stave, 1975). This coupling of consciousness-raising with the marked material enrichment of everyday life could then be deployed to the furtherance of socialism more broadly—in local, state, and national elections.

Image: The Democracy Collaborative, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

In the UK, interest in the economic and political possibilities of municipal socialism came and went with the rising and ebbing of the tides of economic reform and mass politics. At the beginning of the twentieth century it was led by early Fabian thinkers, with six Fabians—among them Sidney Webb—being elected to the London County Council in the 1892 elections. Of the first hundred Fabian tracts, written between 1884 and 1900, some forty-three discussed issues of local government (Chandler, 2007, 130-131). In What About The Rates?, Webb’s 1913 treatise on the financial autonomy of the municipalities, he protested vociferously against a political strategy which sought to marginalise the municipal: “Let us leave such proposals to the enemy … We, as Socialists, much cherish local government, and aim always at its expansion, not its contraction” (Webb, 1913, 9-10).

Municipal socialism was thus conceptualised as a consciously-evolving process, simultaneously shifting ownership—and with it power—whilst raising local living standards. Economic and political successes were consciously built upon to expand the strategy both horizontally (to other municipalities and industries) and vertically (to larger enterprises and services, and higher levels of governance). F. Lawson Dodd demonstrated the unfolding logic of this approach in a 1905 tract, arguing that the merits of water municipalisation warranted a further municipalisation of the milk supply on the bases of both power and public health: “The establishment of municipal milk depots supplied from municipal farms is the first step towards the social organisation of the dairy industry … The community would take over the whole of the supply”, he argued (Lawson Dodd, 1905, 17). The full extent of the impressive economic footprint achieved by municipal ownership in late-nineteenth-century Britain is nicely captured in the account given by Webb in his 1890 book Socialism in England:

“The ‘practical man,’ oblivious or contemptuous of any theory of the Social Organism or general principles of social organisation, has been forced by the necessities of the time into an ever deepening collectivist channel. Socialism, of course, he still rejects and despises. The Individualist Town Councillor will walk along the municipal pavement, lit by municipal gas and cleansed by municipal brooms with the municipal water, and seeing by the municipal clock in the municipal market, that he is too early to meet his children coming from the municipal school hard by the county lunatic asylum and municipal hospital, will use the national telegraph system to tell them not to walk through the municipal park but to come to the municipal tramway, to meet him in the municipal reading room, by the municipal art gallery, museum and library, where he intends … to prepare his next speech in the municipal town hall, in favour of the nationalisation of the canals and the increase of government control over the railway system. ‘Socialism, sir,’ he will say, ‘don’t waste the time of a practical man by your fantastic absurdities. Self-help, sir, individual self-help, that’s what’s made our city what it is’” (Webb, 1890, 65)

Tensions soon arose, however, between local and national aspirations. With the rise of Labour as an electorally successful national party committed to a top-down reorganisation of the British economy, municipal socialism began to wither. This was partly the party’s own doing, with one of the deleterious consequences of the centralising tendencies of Attlee’s post-1945 nationalisation programme being the abandonment and erasure of the rich tapestry of local traditions of municipal ownership, mutualism, and co-operation. The boards of the newly nationalised (and centralised) public companies were comprised of a curious assemblage of the contemporary elite, which often meant that the extensive tacit knowledge of the workers and successful economic practices of municipal enterprises were marginalised, ignored, or lost altogether. Knights, Lords, and generals were well represented on these boards (Jenkins, 1959, 16), but—to take but one example—not a single member of the fourteen appointees to the board of the first Gas Council had been connected with any of the numerous previous municipally owned public gasworks (Kelf-Cohen, 1973, 59).

Only with the sunset of the top-down Keynesian economic management of the postwar Golden Age did municipal socialism begin to re-emerge as a political force. In the dark days of Thatcherism, radical local experiments re-appeared in the shape of the Greater London Council (GLC) and other metropolitan councils. As Stuart Hall wrote, the GLC “operated right across the spectrum, politicising sites of daily life and drawing them into the orbit of politics in ways unthinkable to most conventional Labour councils” (Hall, 1988, 237). Thatcher, perhaps more than anyone, immediately saw the political danger inherent in any significant revival of municipal socialism—especially one with a strong participatory, democratic character. “The GLC represents modern socialism”, the arch-Thatcherite Norman Tebbit stated, concluding that ‘we must kill it’ (Wainwright, 2003, 8).

Many of Thatcher’s own colleagues were made somewhat uneasy by “her deep-seated and almost obsessive objections to urban socialists” (Kösecik and Kapucu, 2003, 87), whilst the municipal socialist and Labour MP for Manchester Central, Bob Litherland, wondered aloud in Parliament as to whether it might be deemed “unfair that the metropolitan counties have to suffer because a Prime Minister takes a paranoic view of Ken Livingstone and thinks that he is immortal” (HC Deb 11 April 1984). George Tremlett, a Conservative councillor on the GLC and outspoken critic of Thatcher’s abolition agenda, was dropped from the Conservative Group altogether after arguing that “the proposals were so outrageous and so contrary to all the Conservative traditions of government that they must call into question Mrs. Thatcher’s capacity to form a balanced judgement on important issues of public policy”, and eventually encouraging Conservatives to vote Labour in the 1984 by-elections (Kösecik and Kapucu, 2003, 77).

Despite this opposition, Thatcher persisted in her determination to abolish the GLC, which was accomplished with the Local Government Act of 1985, wherby these resurgent experiments in municipal socialism were legislated out of existence. With Thatcher’s defenestration of local government, municipal socialism once again faded from the picture politically in Britain. Recent plans to devolve power to local government have been a mixture of unintelligibility and—especially since 2010—cynical exercises in political buck-passing, particularly attempts to shift the blame for implementing austerity. As a consequence, the public has quite rightly reacted negatively to such efforts, as well as other associated attempts to address the overwhelming centralisation of Britain’s political economy and governance. Referenda on regional assemblies in England advanced by Tony Blair were soundly rejected—by as much as 78 per cent in the vote on devolution to North East England in 2004—while George Osborne’s lopsided localism agenda has been plunged into legislative formaldehyde with the arrival of Theresa May in Downing Street.

Municipal socialism revisited

In the modern era of 24-7 news cycles and horserace political coverage, local politics rarely receives much attention. When local campaigns and politics are covered at all, it is usually because such elections are deemed to be a bellwether for the relative national political strength of the parties. This downgrading of local politics also extends to political analysts and activists, and often even to the political parties themselves, as can be seen in their reluctance to invest precious resources in local campaigns.

There are promising signs, however, that this is now beginning to change. With the leadership of Jeremy Corbyn and John McDonnell, municipal socialism has once again returned to the Labour Party’s agenda in a powerful way. “With amazing creativity in the toughest of times, we are seeing the first shoots of the renaissance of local government for the many, not the few—the rebirth of municipal socialism”, Corbyn proclaimed in February of this year.

As indicated above, one of the leading models of re-emerging, modern-day municipal socialism in the UK is to be found in Preston. In 2011, the city—which had been declining economically since the 1970s—was reeling from a bitter double blow. Central government funding was plummeting under the austerity regime of Cameron’s coalition government and long held revitalization plans based on a £700 million shopping centre had collapsed. The newly-elected Labour council realized that they needed to come up with a new strategy. It was then that Councillor Matthew Brown, Cabinet Member for Social Justice, Inclusion, and Policy, stepped forward with his ideas. Inspired by alternative forms of economic development around the world, including the Mondragón cooperatives in the Basque region of Spain and the Evergreen Co-operatives in Cleveland, Ohio, Brown and his fellow councillors began to develop plans to deploy Preston’s existing assets and financial clout to catalyse a new local economic model that builds wealth rather than extracts it from the community. Working with the Manchester-based CLES, Preston Council approached the large anchor institutions in the area and came up with a strategy to shift as much of their spending and procurement back into the local economy as possible. In 2013, six of the local institutions that signed up for the effort spent around £38m in Preston and £292m in Lancashire as a whole. By 2017 this had skyrocketed to £111m and £486m respectively. The new localized contracts cover everything from school lunches to large-scale construction projects. Moreover, contracts shifted locally have a multiplier effect, as pounds circulate and recirculate throughout the local economy, creating jobs which in turn lead to more spending on goods and services, which then leads to the creation of more jobs, and so on.

The Preston Model, however, is about much more than just developing the local economy through shifts in spending and procurement. It is about alternative forms of ownership that not only enrich the lives and livelihoods of residents and workers, but also give them the opportunity to actively participate in the economic decisions that affect their lives and the future of their city. Even before working with the anchor institutions, Preston Council backed plans to develop co-operatives (and link them to the procurement needs of the anchors) and a public financial institution (see Chakrabortty, 2018; Sheffield, 2017; Singer, 2016).

Preston has been lauded by the Labour leadership and by sections of the media as an example of what could be achieved—albeit on a far greater scale—nationally under a Corbyn-led government. “This kind of radicalism”, argued John McDonnell in a 2016 speech at the Preston-based, worker-owned transport company TAS, “is exactly what we need across the whole country”.

Star Guardian columnist Aditya Chakrabortty kicked off his excellent new series exploring real-world economic alternatives with an in-depth study of the Preston Model, following on the heels of a broadly sympathetic write-up in The Economist, which dubbed Preston ‘Corbyn’s model town’. In a speech to the Co-operative Party, Corbyn himself praised the “inspiring innovation” of developments in Preston, particularly when set against the wider backdrop of swinging cuts to local government funding.

Preston also demonstrates the renewed potential of modern municipal socialism as a political strategy. As was the case a century ago, advancing a radical and innovative program of local economic regeneration can quickly lead to tangible political benefits. In the May 2018 local council elections, the Preston Labour Party pledged (among other things) to increase investment and jobs based on the Preston Model; to create a public bank and local wealth fund; to support the creation of new worker cooperatives; and to ask the Lancashire Pension Fund to invest more in the local economy (Preston Labour, 2018). The voters responded, as Labour increased its majority on the local council by picking up two seats—College Ward and Garrison Ward—that had long been controlled by the Tories. Moreover, as new councillor for College Ward Freddie Bailey explained to local journalists, “what we found helped was the Preston Model” (Farnworth, 2018). This was reinforced in the wake of the election when Matthew Brown was elevated to become Leader of Preston City Council.

Onwards to municipal socialism!

While it is right to remain cognisant of the limitations placed on local government by colossal cuts and decades of restrictive legislation, the twin temptations of fatalism—that nothing can be done—and deferral—that nothing can be done until Labour is in power in Westminster—must be roundly rejected. As Preston today demonstrates, a new radical municipalism can indeed emerge in Britain (as it is doing all across the world in the face of neoliberal crisis and austerity) and can serve as the basis for potentially much further reaching national and international change. Exorcising the zombie councils who do little besides implement austerity is vital, but so is creatively, confidently, and collaboratively exercising the significant powers councils do still possess.

As Daniel Frost recently urged in New Socialist, and as we have argued previously, there is much that can be done already—as a movement we need not wait for Labour to gain power nationally before we begin advancing ambitious programmes around a ‘new economics’ based on radical modern reinventions of municipal socialism.

Working with and for the local community to invigorate popular participation in economic decision-making and create—rather than merely extract—community wealth represents both an electorally and an economically successful strategy that can be implemented by councils across the country. The manner in which Preston has caught the imagination as a laboratory of ‘Corbynomics’ points to the wider role such approaches can play, not just in delivering for their local communities (vitally important though that is, the foundation of all else that follows) but also in helping us all to imagine, experience, and get involved with systemic economic transformation.

In an earlier period of economic contraction and difficulty in Lancashire, none other than Karl Marx wrote, in the New York Herald Tribune, of the emerging workers’ movement in the region: “The eyes of the working classes are now fully opened, they begin to cry: Our St. Petersburg is at Preston!”

Today, anyone looking around, from Capita to Carillion to the grim shadow of Grenfell Tower and the travails of East Coast Mainline, can see the existing neoliberal economic model failing and collapsing. But what holds a system in place, often, is a failure of imagination that things can fundamentally change, and that there are real, viable alternatives for organising a next system. Part of the answer to our failing economic system lies in on-the-ground experimentation and model building that embraces the design and principles of a new systemic alternative.

There is precedent for this. In the political science literature in the United States, it is known as the ‘laboratories of democracy’. In Britain, when Nye Bevan launched the NHS in 1948, he drew as inspiration from the Tredegar Medical Aid Society, a community-based model in South Wales that began in 1890. This small Welsh experiment was then scaled up into one of the world’s truly great public health systems.

We now have an opportunity—in the unknown amount of time between now and the next UK General Election—to get people familiar with the elements of the democratic economy through a widespread embrace of community wealth building approaches by Labour councils and local authorities. This suggests the potential basis for a new institutional underpinning for socialist politics, building support for our new economics from the ground up in a way that is far less scary and more comprehensible in a local context than it can sometimes appear at the national level. Our ambition, as the Corbyn Project, should be to bring about what Tony Benn termed “a fundamental and irreversible shift in the balance of power and wealth in favour of working people and their families”. Community wealth building is what that looks like when you start at the local level and begin creating systemic economic change from the ground up.

***

References

Chakrabortty, A. (2018) ‘In 2011 Preston hit rock bottom. Then it took back control’, The Guardian, 31.01.2018, https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2018/jan/31/preston-hit-rock-bottom-took-back-control

Chandler, J. A. (2007) Explaining local government: Local government in Britain since 1800.Manchester: Manchester University Press.

Farnworth, A. (2018) ‘Labour turns two parts of Fulwood red with local election wins’, Blog Preston, 04.05.2018, http://www.blogpreston.co.uk/2018/05/labour-turns-two-parts-of-fulwood-red-with-local-election-wins/

Hall, Stuart. (1988) The Hard Road to Renewal: Thatcherism and the Crisis of the Left.London: Verso.

HC Deb (11 April 1984) Vol. 58, https://api.parliament.uk/historic-hansard/commons/1984/apr/11/local-government-interim-provisions-bill#S6CV0058P0_19840411_HOC_413

Jenkins, C. (1959) Power at the top: A Critical Survey of the Nationalized Industries. London: MacGibbon and Kee.

Judd, R. (1989) Socialist Cities: Municipal Politics and the Grass Roots of American Socialism. Albany: State University of New York Press.

Kelf-Cohen, R. (1973) British Nationalisation 1945-1973. London: The Macmillan Press.

Kösecik, M., and Kapucu, N. (2003) ‘Conservative Reform of Metropolitan Counties: Abolition of the GLC and MCCs in Retrospect’, Contemporary British History, Vol. 17, No. 3, pp. 71-94.

Lawson Dodd, F. (1905) Municipal Milk and Public Health. London: The Fabian Society.

Preston Labour. (2018) ‘Preston Labour Manifesto 2018 City Council Elections’, https://docs.wixstatic.com/ugd/b14b61_3f842b96c215443cac627887a71a18d7.pdf

 Rothstein, T. (1919) ‘A Revolutionary Municipal Policy’, The Call, 27.11.1919, https://www.marxists.org/archive/rothstein/1919/11/27.htm

Sheffield, H. (2017) ‘The Preston model: UK takes lessons in recovery from rust-belt Cleveland’, The Guardian, 11.04.2017, https://www.theguardian.com/cities/2017/apr/11/preston-cleveland-model-lessons-recovery-rust-belt

Singer, C. (2016) ‘The Preston Model’, The Next System Project, 09.09.2016, https://thenextsystem.org/the-preston-model

Stave, B. (ed.) (1975) Socialism and the Cities. Port Washington, N.Y.: Kennikat.

 Thompson, C. (1908) The Constructive Program of Socialism. Milwaukee: Social-Democratic Publishing Co.

 Wainwright, H. (2003) Reclaim the State: Experiments in Popular Democracy. London: Verso.

 Webb, S. (1889) Socialism in England. Baltimore: American Economic Association.

Webb, S. (1913) What about the rates?: or, Municipal finance and municipal autonomy. London: The Fabian Society.

Photo by drinksmachine

The post The ‘Preston Model’ and the modern politics of municipal socialism appeared first on P2P Foundation.

Nick Buxtom: The bad news streaming through our media in 2017 has been relentless. However it doesn’t tell the full story. Beyond the headlines, there have been countless amazing social movement struggles in different regions of the world that deserve to be celebrated. Here are ten stories showing that people power works:

1. EL SALVADOR BANS MINING

In a classic David and Goliath tale, this small Central American state took on a Canadian transnational corporation to become the first country in the world to ban metals mining. Farmer communities led the struggle when they came together in 2004 to save the Lempa River watershed. They built a national coalition in the face of massive repression (including the assassination of several activists), formed alliances internationally, took on the Canadian corporation OceanaGold and finally secured a mining ban in March 2017.

2. #METOO CAMPAIGN CHALLENGES IMPUNITY FOR SEXUAL HARASSMENT

Sexual harassment has been a constant reality for women everywhere for generations, but in 2017 the wall of impunity was breached – suddenly and powerfully. Revelations of Hollywood mogul Harvey Weinstein’s repeated sexual abuses prompted 1.7 million #metoo tweets in 85 countries, encouraging women in every walk of life to come forward publicly to denounce sexual harassment. Many men have been forced to resign from positions of power and influence, and there seems to be finally a consensus that sexual harassment must stop. This shift is not an accident or the credit of a few journalists, but the result of decades of tireless campaigning by women’s organizations worldwide fighting for equality.

3. FRENCH LAW ON MULTINATIONALS

At a time when corporate power has become seemingly impregnable, French campaigners showed that transnational corporations can be defeated. In a four-year-long campaign, they mobilized for a new law, approved in March 2017, which recognizes the responsibility of parent companies for human rights violations committed by subsidiaries, subcontractors and providers. The law was passed in the face of considerable corporate opposition and is a major step forward in the fight against impunity of transnational corporations, addressing the legal complexity of their supply chains that has made it so difficult for affected communities to get justice. The law has also given a boost to ongoing efforts to create an international binding treaty on transnationals at the United Nations.

4. PRIVATIZATION IS BEING ROLLED BACK, COMMUNITY BY COMMUNITY

After many years of failed privatization projects, communities worldwide are successfully fighting off privatization and bringing privatized services back under public control. In 2017 in Cali, Colombia, a public sector workers union succeeded in defeating the proposed privatization of the municipal-owned telecommunications company, and then set up a public-public partnership (PuP) with a Uruguayan national public enterprise to improve the service. In another case, Indonesia’s Supreme Court ruled this year that privatisation of water is a violation of human rights and annulled an agreement between Jakarta’s city-owned water operator, PAM Jaya, and two private companies. More than 835 communities worldwide have brought their public services back under public control in recent years.

5. TRUMP’S AGENDA FACES MASSIVE POPULAR RESISTANCE

Donald Trump’s election was one of the most disturbing nights in modern memory, but it hasn’t gone so well for him since. From the Women’s March during his very first day of office, Trump’s presidency has faced unprecedented popular resistance. In the first week, his blanket ban on Muslims from six nations was met with spontaneous protests at more than 20 major international airports across the U.S. and has since been blocked repeatedly by the courts, though it is now being temporarily enacted. Popular movements involved in fighting white supremacy, corporate greed and militarism have reported a massive surge in engagement and support. Meanwhile, a sustained movement organized by citizens nationwide helped prevent the GOP from rolling back Obamacare, and a young, progressive electoral movement is strengthening ahead of 2018 midterms.

6. GAMBIAN AUTOCRAT OVERTHROWN

Military leader Yahya Jammeh, who ruled Gambia with an iron fist for 22 years, was forced to step down at the beginning of 2017 after losing the 2016 election. Jammeh predicted he would rule for a billion years, but young Gambians came out in large numbers and used social media to mobilize votes for his opponent, Adama Barrow. Jammeh tried to overrule the election results, but fierce opposition from trade unions, professional associations and pressure from outside states forced Jammeh to relinquish power.

7. ALMOST TWO-THIRDS OF AUSTRALIAN VOTERS SAY YES TO MARRIAGE EQUALITY

Australia became the 25th country to legally embrace marriage equality in 2017 after voters overwhelmingly voted in favor of changing the definition of marriage to include same sex relationships in an advisory referendum. Australia’s parliament then approved a bill almost unanimously. Popular and legal support for gay rights may seem unsurprising now, but it is worth remembering that just 20 years ago, there was not one nation that treated same sex relationships equally to heterosexual ones.

8. FARMER REBELLION IN INDIA

In November, tens of thousands of peasants and rural laborers from 20 states, representing more than 180 peasant organizations, gathered in Delhi for an unprecedented show of strength against the reactionary Modi government. Facing rising production costs, increased droughts and falling incomes, the farmers demanded debt relief, better prices and effective crop insurance schemes. While the government did not immediately respond to their key demands, the united platform is likely to have a growing impact as farmers take the campaign across the country in 2018 and 2019.

9. GUATEMALA RISES UP AGAINST INSTITUTIONALIZED CORRUPTION

Since 2015, a series of mass protests against corruption have rocked Guatemala. These came to a head in September 2017 when President Jimmy Morales attempted to expel a Colombian investigator with the U.N.-backed International Commission Against Impunity in Guatemala. Indigenous communities have played a leading role in the protests and are also engaged in an ongoing fight with Congress to approve a constitution that recognizes greater indigenous autonomy. In October, a national strike led by a coalition of social movements in 20 cities demanded the resignation of Morales in addition to calling for land reform and nationalization of the energy sector.

10. RISE OF MOMENTUM AND TRANSFORMATION OF U.K. LABOUR PARTY

In 2017, a grassroots campaign that had first mobilized behind the left candidate Jeremy Corbyn to make him leader of the Labour Party, again showed its power when it substantially increased Labour’s vote in the General Election, almost ending the ruling party’s majority. The movement, called Momentum, made up of 30,000 active members, showed how an organized grassroots operation could defy rightwing mass media and win seats. The movement has made the Labour Party the biggest membership party in Europe, with a platform committed to bringing privatized services back under public ownership, abolishing university tuition fees and ending fracking. Momentum is now widely recognized as the most vibrant element of the party.

These stories and others are taken from a recap of the year by Transnational Institute, a progressive research institute committed to building a just, democratic and sustainable world.

The post Ten Amazing Social Movement Struggles in 2017 That Give Us Reason to Hope appeared first on P2P Foundation.

Could you say for somebody who hasn’t come cross the concept of a universal basic income, could you give them it in a nutshell?  What is UBI?

UBI is basically an idea that says everybody, simply by virtue of being alive, gets an income that gives them enough to survive, if not thrive, and that’s one of the debates.  There are lots of different people talking about it right now from across the political spectrum.  This is one of the things that makes it an interesting idea, or an idea that’s worth engaging with right now, because it’s an idea that’s emerging.  It’s formulating, so it’s not settled.

Martin Kirk. On a Skype with someone else…

There are lots of different ideas around lots of different conceptions.  There’s not a clear single narrative about it yet, although it’s rapidly forming.  It’s being talked about in terms of everything from reducing the size of government and the welfare state, in the way of just getting rid of all the social services and replacing them with a basic income, right through to people talking about it as a way to redesign the money system and effect fundamental transformational change to the root drivers of many of our problems, like infinite GDP growth.

So it can take you from that very simple ‘reduce government’ right through to ‘change the economic system’.  I think this is one of the reasons it’s getting a lot of people excited.  There are pilots going on all over the place. Just this last week or two the Scottish government announced its plans to run some pilots.  But they’ve been running global north, global south, for a while.  It’s actually an idea that’s got a very long history.

Thomas Paine talked about it as a negative income tax when he was writing in the 18^th century.  Hayek and the neoliberals were actually talking about it as an idea when they started formulating their ideas in the 1940s and 1950s.  So it’s got a long history.  But it’s in the last 3, 4 years it’s really started to break into the mainstream, have a bit of a resurgence, and one of the reasons that’s being driven is this conversation about automation.

This is what’s getting a lot of the Silicon valley types, the Mark Zuckerberg’s and Bill Gates’, that’s drawing them into it.  I don’t know if you saw just this last week, Hilary Clinton in ‘What Happened’, her just released book said that she was a hairs breadth away from running on a basic income platform in the 2016 election.

But in her words they just couldn’t make the numbers add up.  Jeremy Corbyn has said that the Labour party in the UK is studying it as a policy option.  Richard Branson has come out and said this is almost probably inevitable at some point.  So it’s being practiced, it’s being trialled, there are endless debates happening, it’s picking up political media, social support.

Interestingly, the one group that hasn’t latched on to this, as much as I think they should do, is environmentalists.  There is a lot that could be done with a UBI that could really address the key issues that we’re concerned about. From the way money draws its value from natural resources and the natural capital base of the planet, and that can be addressed.  You can also address the concept of growth, if you take interest bearing out of the money system.  So it opens up all these sorts of interesting ideas.

The problem right now, as I said earlier, is it’s stuck in the welfare frame.  It’s a reductive thing.  If you’re interested in transformative ideas, this is one that’s worth getting engaged with right now as the narrative is forming.

How would it be financed?

Again, this is one of the big debates that’s happening.  It’s one of the big questions that automatically comes up, “how is it paid for?”  There is a range of options.  Right through from the Conservatives who would just pay for it by scrapping so many other services.  Conservatives in the US are talking about a basic income of $10,000 a year, which is way below the poverty threshold, and below the minimum wage threshold, but could easily be paid for out of existing tax revenue if you chopped off a lot of the health services, welfare programmes that already exist.  So you’ve got that on one side.

Then, somewhere in the middle, you’ve got people talking about it from a sort of dividend.  A lot of people refer to the ‘Alaska model’ here.  Alaska’s had a basic dividend, they call it a permanent dividend fund, for quite a long time now.  That’s paid for by fossil fuel receipts from Canada South oil, or Alberta actually, then there are profits that are ploughed back into a dividend that goes to every citizen.  So people are talking about whether it could be funded from a carbon tax, or some other form of commons based revenue.  That’s another middle ground way of paying for it.

On the far end, and this is the one that we’re interested in, particularly at The Rules, go away from the current money system completely and we say there’s a really interesting conversation to be had here about a cryptocurrency based UBI.  The technology for that is not quite mature but it’s coming and it’s coming much faster than people expect.  We will very soon have the option of using a cryptocurrency either as an alternative or a complementary currency to the fiat currencies we all use.

But if you get into that space, then the question of where does the money come from doesn’t apply there, because the money is automatically generated by a system.  It’s just deposited into people’s accounts.  There’s no central authority who’s governing that.  It’s just an automated system.  So you don’t have to ask the question of where will the money come from.

You’ve got that spread, right through from the small government, Conservative and libertarians, all the way through to the more radical, I’ll say ‘Left’, just as shorthand but it’s a little bit disingenuous to use just the Left-Right spectrum here because it’s more complicated than that.  But just as a reference point, the radical left.

The battle is being had right now.  The battle for the narrative.  Right now it’s being won, or it’s being dominated by, the centre and the right.  One of the reasons for that is the language that’s used.

Just think of the term, ‘Universal Basic Income’, every single one of those words, militates against a more transformative conception.  People don’t respond well to the idea of universal things, on the whole.  They immediately start thinking about, “Well, why is my neighbour getting stuff?  Why am I having to work and they’re gutting stuff for free?”  It triggers a competitive mind set in people, and outgroup thinking. So people automatically start to think about who is the outgroup and will they get more than I?  The fairness logic kicks in very quickly.  That’s not particularly helpful.

The word ‘basic’ drags your brain down right down to the floor, and it leads you into questions like, “What’s the least possible we should be able to give people?  What’s the basic?  What’s the minimum?”  That’s a classic welfare type thinking, and it’s linked to all the concepts of the undeserving poor.  These people who don’t deserve what they get.  Their position is all of their own making.  So it opens up all those avenues of thought and logic.

‘Income’ is almost the worst, because income is widely understood to be something you receive in return for work.  That’s the definition of the word.  So actually we’re trying to talk about a system that separates work from income.  You’re using the word that means income for work.  So none of these on their own are prohibitive, but they are framing points.  They do lead you into a certain type of logic and they’ll push the conversation in a certain direction.  It’s a direction that is far more in line with the conservative thinking than the progressive thinking.  So we’re already hampered, we’re already ham-strung by the language.

So we have an uphill battle, but then when don’t we?!  Everything we do is an uphill battle against the system on some level or other…

So what would you rather call it?

We were going to test trial stuff.  We don’t have a specific name in mind but we know the conceptual domains that will be much more useful for us.  So community domains are much better than individual domains, and ‘universal’ gets you into more individualist thinking.

You could think about some sort of language around community.  Also people have a much stronger logic for the health of communities in some respects.  People understand that income coming into a community will strengthen it.  There’s a much more communitarian logic when you start talking in terms of communities.  It triggers that sort of logic much better.  So we should be looking at that sort of area.  We were going to do a process of trying to test a few different memes and framings and see which ones resonate.

The problem is, we spoke to a lot of the people who are big players in this field at the moment, and we made the judgement that the language is too embedded now.  We could be fighting that fight forever and make no progress.  If you’re looking for the efficient entry point into this narrative, trying to change that basic language probably isn’t going to serve you very well.  You’ve just got to suck it up and think about how else we can get in there.  Because it’s so widespread now, it’s used in so many different places, that horse has bolted already.  But if you wanted to take a clear eyed view of the challenge ahead of us, it’s worth thinking about these linguistic points.

So how could a UBI best be designed to most enable a renaissance of the imagination?  Why is it a useful tool for that?

Several reasons.  One, it’s a challenging idea, and you want challenging ideas.  You want ideas that take people one step beyond where they already are.  It’s very difficult to teach people an entirely new logic with one set of ideas, or one policy prescription.  But this one, just the very idea of everybody getting an income by virtue of being alive, is quite shocking.  Quite arresting for people.

On the face of it, it’s an engaging idea.  Even if the engagement is people going, “Well, how would you pay for it?”, it’s a negative response, but its still a response.  You’ve got an awful lot in your favour from a campaign perspective just there.  The struggle to get people’s eyeballs on your things is permanent with campaigners, so this one has got a built in advantage for that.  That’s the surface level.

Once you get into the deeper level with it, it gets even better though, because depending on how you frame it, and the framing is all important – as with everything, he who frames, wins. But if you can get the framing right, it invites people to rethink money.  It invites people to rethink power structures.  If I get a cryptocurrency that doesn’t come from a bank, that isn’t issued by my government or my local authority, suddenly I’m into questions of what are those authorities for?  I’m rethinking their role on quite a fundamental level.  So it gets you into questions of money.

It gets you into questions of power.  It gets you into questions of growth.  It gets you into all these rich fundamental areas of logic that capitalism relies on for its life force.  That’s one of the reasons that we really like it.  It’s got all the dimensions to it.

I think of it, you walk into a room and this room’s got 20 doors off it, and some of them are more fruitful than others to go down.  UBI offers you a lot of doors to go through in terms of where you can take people’s thinking and the narrative, or trigger people’s thinking and logics.  It’s not the only idea around of its kind around, but I don’t know many others that have this pure potential in them to get people thinking differently.

If it were introduced tomorrow, in what way might it catalyse a whole flourishing of imagination do you think?  There’s not many spaces left in modern life where imagination is really encouraged or really flourishes.  How would the introduction of a UBI address that?

There’s no such thing as a quick silver bullet solution that’s going to take people from bad logics to good logics, to ecological logics overnight.  One of those reasons is because our entire language locks us into a financial producer/consumer logic.  So accept the basis that our environment is anything but neutral right now.  It’s dis-incentivising our spending time on the imagination, on community, on following passions.  We all have to work for our income, so we have to do what’s required of us, not what is necessarily our passion.

Just think of the idea – what would you do with your life if you had the freedom to live, not a rich, but a materially safe and comfortable life, without working?  What would you do?  Without having to go to an office?  You might choose to, and that’s great, because some people love work of that sort.  But you wouldn’t necessarily need to.

So now you’re moving beyond a situation where our lives are focused around work and income and provision for ourselves, and focused much more on the idea of living.  A lot of people go straight to, “Well, people will just be lazy.”  But that’s not true.  All the evidence suggests, of course some people, a small number of people will choose not to work, not to do anything and sit around watching TV all day, but those people do a lot of that anyway.  They are not the majority of us in society.  The majority of us get a lot of value from our work, from being productive, from engaging with our communities, from engaging our minds and learning.

Those are the stuff of life for a lot of us.  So once you even take one step away from the absolute imperative into work, into wage work I should say rather, all manner of things can change.  But I don’t think we can predict exactly what will happen if that’s the case.  We’re going to become almost like a leisure society over the next 50-100 years, particularly as automation kicks in.

We’ve got plenty enough wealth, and even when automation kicks in, there will be plenty enough generating capacity for everybody without needing to grow the capital supply infinitely.  So the whole paradigm we’re going to be living in is going to change over the next decades.  The concept of work is going to change even if we don’t implement something like universal basic income.  But if we do, if we get ahead of the curve of automation, if we start to release people from the imperative of wage labour, I think we’ll find a number of magic things happen.

What happens if we move to automation without a UBI?  We end up with lots of people who have no work – the implications are really quite alarming, am I right?

They’re quite dystopian.  But I can’t imagine any government will allow that.  If you want to stoke social unrest, no better way to do it than have millions of people unemployed wandering around being desperate.  So as lay-offs happen from automation, governments are going to respond in one way or another.  They’re not going to want masses of unemployed people wandering around feeling disenfranchised.

I’m not sure we’re going to be facing that sort of future, because it does not serve the interests of the current power structures.  If you look at the way a lot of the Silicon valley people talk about UBI, what they’re actually talking about is a different business model for themselves.  They’re not thinking about it in terms of different economic systems.  They’re not thinking about it as a social justice move towards an environmentally sustainable future.  They’re thinking, “How can we make sure people still have money to buy our services when they don’t have jobs to go to because of the automation that we’ve triggered?  How can we keep our consumer base, a consumer base?”

This is the minefield of this conversation. And obviously, Mark Zuckerberg writes a manifesto and makes one speech at a Harvard commencement session and suddenly he’s the poster child for UBI.  That’s why this is such a fraught area right now, as these people weigh on into it and are dominating the environment, forming the narrative, setting the frame.  So the rest of us have to step up a bit, and make sure their conception doesn’t win.

You mentioned that UBI is potentially a very powerful tool environmentally.  Would it not, just giving people more money, would they not just be buying more iPads, going on more holidays?

Consume more?  Yeah, absolutely.  That is a risk, but it’s not a guaranteed outcome.  There are ways you can mitigate it.  If we go down the cryptocurrency route, you can easily, as easily as walking, build in certain rules into that system, that strongly incentivise local trading.  Dis-incentivise global supply chains, dis-incentivise buying from distant, therefore abstract, people in environments.  So that’s one thing you can do if you take a cryptocurrency route to not kick off lots of negative consumption.  There are a range of things you can do, but this is something to keep an eye on.

Cross-posted from Rob Hopkins’ blog. Click here for more stories  and perspectives on Universal Basic Income.

The post How a Universal Basic Income could Fire the imagination appeared first on P2P Foundation.

Playing for team human today, Dr. Richard Barbrook challenges this imaginary future by unearthing the neoliberal underpinnings of Silicon Valley’s vision of progress. Rushkoff and Barbrook engage in a conversation that both uncovers the economic forces driving the evolution of technology while simultaneously acknowledging the utility of our tech tools as evidenced in the recent organizing around Labour underdog, Jeremy Corbyn.

Rushkoff opens with a monologue challenging his own initial enthusiasm for Universal Basic Income. Is UBI just another gaming of the system in order to perpetuate consumption in an vastly unequal society?

• Team Human is supported entirely by listeners. Visit https://www.patreon.com/teamhuman to become a supporter and receive a variety of patron exclusives.
• Special thanks to Luke Robert Mason of Virtual Futures who facilitated this exchange and recorded this interview on location in London.
• Barbrook Photo By Sebastiaan ter Burg from Utrecht, The Netherlands (New Gamegrounds) [CC BY 2.0], via Wikimedia Commons
• Music in today’s show: Mike Watt: beak-holding-letter-man , R.U. Sirius: President Mussolini Makes The Planes Run On Time, Fugazi: Foreman’s Dog

The post Team Human: Richard Barbrook “It’s capitalism, mate!” appeared first on P2P Foundation.

The post Jeremy Corbyn speaks at Glastonbury 2017 appeared first on P2P Foundation.

Alyssa Battistoni: Five years ago, dropping the abbreviation UBI in conversation would be more likely to earn you a puzzled glance than a knowing nod. But these days, universal basic income—a policy often glossed as “paying people for being alive”—is gaining popularity both in the United States and abroad. UBI, where everyone gets a regular check from the government regardless of what else they’re doing or how they spend it, is an old idea. But it has seen renewed interest since the 2008 financial crash: as millions of people lost their jobs and wondered whether they’d find new ones, some also began to wonder whether they needed to work at all.

UBI was recently endorsed by the Movement for Black Lives as part of a reparations program, while Canada’s Leap Manifesto calls for consideration of UBI on the grounds of environmental sustainability. Jeremy Corbyn said last September that the Labour Party would investigate the prospects for basic income in the UK, and experiments are on the agenda in Scotland, backed by the left-wing SNP. In France, Benoît Hamon recently won the Socialist Party presidential nomination on a platform that included a basic income.

Growing public discussion has been accompanied by a small but significant number of experimental programs, mostly in Europe. Starting this year, about 250 people in Utrecht will receive €960 each month (about $1,030) from the government, while a Finnish experiment will pay between five and ten thousand people €550 (about $600) monthly. Neither amount is enough to live on, really, but they aren’t negligible either.

The United States is home to the closest thing to a basic income program existing in the world today: the Alaska Permanent Fund. Since 1982, the fund has paid every Alaskan resident anywhere from a few hundred to $2,000 annually out of its oil revenues. But the most prominent supporters of UBI in the United States today are technocapitalists like Peter Thiel and Marc Andreessen, and with the exception of Alaska, basic income experiments are being implemented not by the state but the private sector. Most notably, the seed accelerator Y Combinator is starting a basic income pilot program in Oakland this year, proposing to pay a hundred families between $1,000 and $2,000 each month, “no strings attached.”

It’s often noted that Milton Friedman as well as Martin Luther King, Jr. supported basic income—and the new generation of advocates is similarly eclectic, running the gamut from Trump-supporting venture capitalists like Thiel to “fully automated luxury communists” like Peter Frase. There are, in short, many different reasons for supporting UBI—and just as many versions of what it could be.

One version functions as a kind of noblesse oblige—a handout to the unfortunates being made obsolete by robots smarter and more efficient than they are. Another version aspires to egalitarian universalism and challenges the legitimacy of privately accumulated wealth. There’s a version that sees UBI as the spark for a generation of entrepreneurs, and another that simply attempts to stave off a revolt of the precarious masses.

Basic income is therefore often posited as a post-ideological solution suited to a new era of politics: the odd confluence of interest from the left and right tends to be read as a sign that political positions should be eschewed in favor of rational compromise. But UBI’s cross-ideological appeal is the bug, not the feature. Because basic income is politically ambiguous, it also has the potential to act as a Trojan horse for the left or right: left critics fret that it will serve as a vehicle for dissolving the remains of the welfare state, while proponents herald it as the “capitalist road to communism.” The version of basic income we get will depend, more than policies with a clearer ideological valence, on the political forces that shape it.

Which is why the prospect of pushing for basic income in the United States right now—when the right controls everything—should be cause for alarm: UBI’s supporters on the left should proceed with caution.

But that doesn’t mean basic income is a lost cause. To the contrary, capitalism’s inability to provide a means of making a decent living for the over 7 billion people currently alive is one of its most glaring defects—and one of the most significant opportunities for the left to offer an alternative. A universal basic income, though not the only answer, might point us in the right direction.

Raising the floor

Unsurprisingly, labor unions have been slow to get on board with a policy that suggests jobs may not be necessary. But as interest grows, UBI has picked up at least one convert from the labor movement: Andy Stern, the former head of the SEIU, whose 2016 book, Raising the Floor, explains why basic income is the way to “invent a better future.”

Stern has long positioned himself as a visionary ready to lead the labor movement out of stagnant traditionalism toward new horizons. Within the labor movement, though, he’s a controversial figure criticized for being too friendly with the boss. He’s worked with Walmart on healthcare reform and with Paul Ryan on fiscal responsibility; in a recent interview with Vox, he described the labor movement as having a “boutique role” in representing employees. It was only a matter of time before he made powerful friends in the tech world.

Upon leaving SEIU in 2010, Stern describes catching the tech bug. He switches from a PC to a Mac and starts Googling; in industry rags like TechCrunch and the fringe-futurist site Singularity Hub, he reads about robot financial advisors, robot journalists, robot bartenders, robot hotel cleaners, robot guards, and of course, sex robots. In one jaw-dropping aside, he compares the number of people playing the online game “Mists of Pandaria” to the ranks of organized labor: “It had taken the entire American labor movement decades to achieve that much member power.” What a time to be alive! And yet—what will happen to the 47 percent of workers whose jobs are purportedly at risk of automation? Stern, whose last book aimed to make America a “country that works,” began to worry about the coming “jobless future.” He doesn’t mean there will be literally no jobs, of course—just not enough.

To figure out what to do, he talks to a lot of people. Stern talks to the investment banker Steven Berkenfeld—an executive at Lehman Brothers at the time of the 2008 crash, whose qualification to assess the future is questionable at best—who declares that “to put people over profits in this country is almost un-American.” He talks to Carl Camden, the CEO of Kelly Services, the original temp agency—or, as Stern euphemizes, the company that “first saw the business potential in temporary employment.” (The company became famous for calling its temp secretaries “Kelly Girls”; one 1971 ad proclaimed that a Kelly Girl “Never takes a vacation or holiday. Never asks for a raise. Never costs you a dime for slack time.” And of course, “Never fails to please.”) He talks to David Cote, the CEO of Honeywell International, who says that jobs are just “going to come”—they always have before.

Stern also talks to a few labor organizers, like Saket Soni of the National Guestworker Alliance and Ai-jen Poo of the National Domestic Workers Alliance, to understand the “dark side of the gig economy”—the side represented by day laborers sleeping rough in New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina and being paid a fraction of the money allocated to construction contractors. To understand growing economic inequality, he reads Thomas Piketty’s Capital in the Twenty-First Century, sort of. (“Like most of the people who purchased the book, I read very little of it,” he admits.) He hires a woman from Kenya to transcribe an interview, for which he’s billed $4.67, and uses TaskRabbit to dismantle and ship his bike across the country, for which he pays $80 plus shipping. He eventually comes to the conclusion that the jobs that will remain after the robots come will be the best and the worst—Google programmers and Uber drivers. The latter will be so bad—so insecure and so poorly paid—that the swelling ranks of people forced to resort to them will need something else to get by. That’s where basic income comes in: as the backstop of the gig economy.

A utopia for realists

The Dutch journalist and basic income advocate Rutger Bregman’s case for UBI, meanwhile, is pitched not as a way to stave off a still grimmer future, but as our best shot at utopia. Advances in science, technology, and medicine mean that the prospects for human thriving are better than ever—and yet political ambitions have faded into technocratic tweaks, dreams of the good life answered with waves of consumer junk. Is this really the best we can do? Why is it that when just about anything seems technically possible, we seem unable to imagine anything genuinely inspiring? For Bregman, basic income represents the way to true human fulfillment—the post-work utopia that we need and that we can, in fact, achieve. It is a utopia for realists.

This utopia—to not have to work so much or so hard; to pass time in leisure rather than labor; to do what one wants rather than what one’s told—is perhaps the oldest of all. The medieval Land of Plenty was, in the words of one poet, where “money has been exchanged for the good life,” and “he who sleeps the longest earns the most.” And for more than a century, it’s seemed within reach. Karl Marx, Benjamin Franklin, John Stuart Mill, Oscar Wilde, and John Maynard Keynes all looked at soaring productivity with the certainty that it would soon be high enough to satisfy people’s needs and wants with just a few hours of work a week. In the 1960s, with automation on the rise, it seemed so imminent that the question wasn’t whether people would have more leisure time—it was what they would do with it. Would we get bored? Waste all our time in front of the TV? Lose our purpose in life?

Such worries now seem charmingly naive. “We aren’t bored to death,” Bregman warns, “we’re working ourselves to death.” But it’s not because the likes of Keynes and Mill were wrong—they just didn’t account for politics. Instead of increasing leisure for working people, productivity gains went into growing profits for owners of capital. The 2008 financial crash and subsequent recession only made things worse. These days, instead of relaxing into a life of leisure, most people are working more in a desperate attempt to cling to their jobs, or working less than they need to support themselves.

Work is bad enough on its own. But Bregman argues convincingly that working less could also help solve any number of other problems—stress, climate change, disasters, unemployment, wealth inequality. In fact, increased leisure time is as close to a silver bullet as they come: “is there anything that working less does not solve?” Bregman asks. Instead of making people work to earn a living, then, why not just give them money—a universal basic income? Experiments consistently show that having adequate income makes you happier, healthier, and even smarter. Giving poor people money—whether it’s to homeless men in London or quarry workers in Nairobi—turns out to be good for everyone. It reduces crime, child mortality, malnutrition, and teen pregnancy, and increases gender equality, educational outcomes, and economic growth.

But while Bregman is utopian, he isn’t in thrall to technofuturists: he argues that to understand automation and its effects, we’d do better to study history than speculate about the future. After all, the robots have been coming for decades. The current surge of interest in basic income, too, has historical precedent: there was a wave of interest in the 1930s, and a larger swell in the late 1960s and early ’70s; in 1969 Richard Nixon even proposed a bill (though it was never passed) for a form of basic income he called “negative income tax.”

The 1970s also saw a smattering of projects putting basic income into action, with five trials occurring in North America. The most significant, a five-year federally-funded experiment with basic income in the town of Dauphin, Canada, in the 1970s was an unexpected success across the board. When people were guaranteed an income above the poverty line (around $19,000 for a family of four), they stayed in school longer and spent more time with their families, while hospitalizations, domestic violence, and mental health complaints declined. In four experimental programs across the United States around the same time, meanwhile, people consistently worked fewer paid hours and put most of their spare time into parenting, independent artistic pursuits, and education. It turns out that people aren’t indolent when they aren’t forced to work (though would it be such a terrible thing if they were?)—they just do the kinds of work they actually want to do.

Bregman’s case for UBI is powerful, animated by humanist principles and bolstered by pragmatic evidence. It’s so convincing, in fact, that one’s left wondering only why, if basic income is such an obvious good, it doesn’t already exist. The problem isn’t that basic income doesn’t sound good enough—it’s that it sounds too good to be true. This, in fact, is one of basic income’s biggest political challenges: getting people to take it seriously. Politicians tend to be wary of endorsing such a seemingly pie-in-the-sky idea. A much discussed referendum in Switzerland last summer proposed a basic income at a significantly higher baseline—around €2,300—but resulted in a resounding defeat, with 77 percent of voters rejecting the plan. But none of the major national parties backed the initiative, which was understood more as a publicity tool for UBI than an actual campaign.

The programs of the 1970s, too, foundered on the shoals of politics. When a conservative government came to power in Canada in 1979, it scrapped the basic income experiment before it had even analyzed the results. In the United States, interest in UBI twisted into suspicion of welfare recipients under the rise of the New Right in the late 1970s. Though basic income went nowhere in the end, the robots stayed. And we’re still living with what happens when automation isn’t accompanied by a political response: stagnant wages, a crumbling middle class, declining union power, rising inequality.

Yet it’s curious that UBI doesn’t today seem to suffer from the same political challenges as those described by Michał Kalecki in his classic 1943 essay “Political Aspects of Full Employment.” Kalecki argues that the challenges to achieving full employment are not economic but political: if people can make a living without taking whatever job they’re offered, at whatever pay, the power that comes with the ability to fire—the most significant power a boss has—diminishes sharply. Basic income would do the same by virtue of providing a dependable source of income; thus its labor-left advocates point out that it would essentially act as a permanent strike fund.

Given that, why do bosses—at least the ones in Silicon Valley—seem to like UBI so much? Some of their enthusiasm may simply be well-meaning naiveté: as Sam Altman of Y Combinator says, “50 years from now, I think it will seem ridiculous that we used fear of not being able to eat as a way to motivate people”—as if this hasn’t been one of the defining features of capitalism all along. Presumably freedom from the need to earn a living will unleash people’s entrepreneurial spirit, their inner innovator—rather than simply give us the chance to fish, hunt, and criticize just as we please. The view of UBI as the foundation of the gig economy, meanwhile, is a tacit acknowledgement that capitalism can’t pay its full costs—a transfer of responsibility for a living wage from private employers to the public. Then there’s an even worse case for UBI as pressure outlet: Stern argues that basic income supporters would do well to convince the anxious rich that it’s their best bet to avoid “the guillotine” amidst growing inequality and desperation.

But you don’t need to be Robespierre to be suspicious of a proposal that explicitly announces its intent to protect the rich from working-class rage—particularly when one of the major questions of UBI is where the free money will come from. Stern cautions UBI supporters against advocating a “soak the rich” tax on political grounds: the broad coalition that UBI requires will be impossible if the rich are against it from the start. (Alas, this is already the metric for most policies.) Instead, he proposes to fund UBI by cashing out major welfare programs (food stamps, housing assistance, the earned income tax credit) and charging a value-added tax on consumer goods; more tentatively, he considers a wealth tax, a financial transaction tax, and cuts to military spending. But funding a basic income by cannibalizing existing welfare programs and imposing regressive consumption taxes perversely places the burden of subsidizing low wages on the poor and working-class people making them in the first place.

That this is a proposal put forth by a former labor leader is a measure of the left’s weakness. And indeed, Stern’s view of labor’s political prospects is remarkably dim. In fact, UBI is explicitly posed as a solution to the problem of declining union power: “It was time for me to look beyond unions for answers,” Stern declares in the first thirty pages. Instead, he proposes a Basic Income Party that could run candidates in every Congressional district and threaten a tax strike—the weapon of the wealthy—until Congress agrees to vote on a basic income package. It’s obviously a non-starter. But it reveals the limits of Stern-style unionism: start out collaborating with Walmart on healthcare, and soon you’ll hope only for the dwindling state to throw a few bucks at the reserve army of Uber drivers tasked with ferrying the rich from one gentrified enclave to the next. Instead of fighting off the dystopian future, settle into the interregnum of the present, with all its morbid symptoms. But as the writer Ben Tarnoff has pointed out, the places where technological development hasn’t produced a dystopian, jobless future (like Sweden) don’t just have technology, they also have strong unions and a robust welfare state. The kind of starkly unequal society that Stern and other UBI futurists fear wouldn’t just come about because the robots arrived—it would come about because only a few people owned them.

Recognizing this, Bregman explicitly advocates “massive redistribution” of money, time, and robots—that is, of income, work, and the means of production. All wealth is socially produced, he argues, and so it should be shared accordingly. It’s not so much that this time is different—it’s that we have the chance to make it so. Though he stops short of inciting us to seize the robots outright, he advocates taxes on the wealthy and on financial transactions as a means to both fund basic income and disincentivize certain activities—like banking—that make money “without creating anything of value.”

Though Bregman’s version of UBI is far more appealing on the merits, his political program is disappointing. Ideas change the world, Bregman declares, and UBI is such an obviously good idea that we just need to spread the word. The last line of the book belongs to Keynes, the book’s implicit hero, who famously said of ideas, “indeed, the world is ruled by little else.” But of course, it’s ruled by many other things—money and power chief among them. The fifteen-hour work week Keynes predicted didn’t come to pass because the idea alone wasn’t enough. More importantly, Keynes was talking about ideology rather than ideas per se, about the systems of thought that underpin our assumptions whether or not we know it, not just clever notions.

And the problem with basic income is that it tends to be read as an idea without an ideology. Bregman describes the pro-UBI movement in Europe as grassroots and “cross-ideological” in character. At the local level where most programs are proposed, the debate is largely pragmatic. The program in Utrecht, for example, is known as “Weten Wat Werkt” or “Knowing What Works,” in acknowledgment that many see the current welfare system—which even in Europe has ceded more and more ground to workfare—as unaffordable and dysfunctional. But of course, what counts as pragmatic depends on the existing balance of political power. Even Bregman’s own position, though solidly on the left, shifts between advocating for UBI as what the Belgian philosopher Philippe Van Parijs described as the “capitalist road to communism” and the capitalist road to . . . saving capitalism from itself.

Stern’s post-ideological stance is even more blatant: at one point he imagines an exchange between the libertarian political thinker Charles Murray, whose 1997 book The Bell Curve famously argued for racial differences in intelligence based on genetics, and Martin Luther King, Jr. He argues that their disagreements about the relationship of basic income to the role of the state in society are simply diversions from their shared idea of giving people money. But these disagreements get to the heart of the matter. The debate about basic income is about the obligations we have to one another, the origins of property, the ends of human life, the shape of our society. And when these broader visions are translated into policy, they don’t simply suggest a shared plan to give people money—they offer drastically different accounts of how much money people should get, where it should come from, and who should get it.

The leftist-futurist version of basic income is often described as a non-reformist reform, per Van Parijs’s quip: a goal that’s achievable within capitalism but that has the potential to change the conditions of capitalism enough to lead beyond it. Basic income is the fully automated monorail to luxury communism, where we all own the robots and everyone gets what they need. This UBI isn’t a backstop for bad jobs, but the material condition for human fulfillment. But not just any income will do: for it to be a genuine step toward a post-work society, it has to be genuinely universal and unconditional, provide enough income to actually live on, and supplement rather than replace the welfare state. This UBI is the one that draws from the Marxist feminists who pointed out the unwaged labor of social reproduction in the 1970s, the working-class women of color who fought for the rights of welfare recipients in the 1960s, and the architects of the Freedom Budget who attempted to translate the gains of the civil rights movement into a program for economic justice. They wanted not just a basic income but a sufficient one—one adequate not merely to survive, but to live a decent life, and maybe even a good one.

The right-wing version of basic income, by contrast, wherein paltry lumps of cash replace public services and goods, is a UBI not worth having. This version of basic income is a mechanism to streamline—a more accurate word might be “gut”—the welfare state in the name of libertarian ideas of freedom. People know what they need better than the state does, the argument goes; how people will be able to afford healthcare on $12,000 a year is less often addressed.

Who exactly should get a basic income is another question. It’s sometimes called a “citizen’s dividend,” explicitly limiting recipients by nationality. More generally the “universal” is aspirational: basic income programs have only seriously been proposed at the national or local levels. So, as with other welfare programs, debates over basic income will undoubtedly be bound up with questions about nationality and migration. In the European context, we should be wary of the deployment of basic income to solidify Fortress Europe as the refugee crisis intensifies. In the debates over the Swiss program, for example, Luzi Stamm, a member of parliament for the right-wing Swiss People’s Party, said he could imagine supporting UBI—but only for the Swiss. “Theoretically, if Switzerland were an island, the answer is yes,” he said at the time. “But with open borders, it’s a total impossibility, especially for Switzerland, with a high living standard.”

In the United States, meanwhile, the combination of nativism and libertarianism that makes up the Trump coalition is particularly dangerous: it’s hard to imagine any way a basic income program implemented in the Trump era would be anything but a vehicle for dismantling the remains of the welfare state while simultaneously reinforcing nationalism by excluding non-citizens from shared prosperity. That said, basic income doesn’t seem likely to be on the agenda of the Trump administration anytime soon. Instead of inventing the future, Trump’s move is to borrow from the past via boondoggles like the Carrier deal, which give public money to private companies in an attempt to revive a mid-century imaginary where men had real factory jobs. Welfare programs, meanwhile, are likely to come under renewed attack from a Republican administration ready to slash government spending.

The apparent success of Trump’s appeal to mid-century nostalgia, though, has thrown cold water on utopian visions. After a few years of UBI flirtation, the American left seems to be returning to full employment—rather than full unemployment—as a demand, particularly via the idea of a federal job guarantee. There’s plenty of useful work to be done, of course, and like income, jobs should be distributed as evenly as possible. Remaking the ideology of work may be too heavy a lift for the next few years.

Still, we shouldn’t stop pushing back against reifying work as the source of both income and social worth.

Ongoing expropriation and proletarianization have left billions worldwide in a condition of what historian Michael Denning calls “wageless life,” rendered surplus to capital’s needs and struggling to scrape by in a system that starts “not with the offer of work, but with the imperative to earn a living.” And so while basic income sounds like a program for rich countries—a luxury made possible by a certain level of prosperity—it may be even more promising in places where it seems most unaffordable. In recent years UBI pilot programs have rolled out in Namibia, Kenya, and Uganda, mostly funded by NGOs; more generally, cash transfer programs, which aim to diminish poverty by giving poor people money—though often with specific criteria or restrictions—are the latest fad in development. Elsewhere, public support provides more in the way of livelihoods than do private wages: the anthropologist James Ferguson notes that more South Africans receive income from government welfare programs, whether child allowances or disability aid, than from waged labor. Basic income, Ferguson argues, may be the way to achieve social welfare in countries where the prospect of job creation on a scale adequate to the population is little more than a fantasy.

Of course, the above model, based on postwar growth in the United States and Western Europe, is now a fantasy here too. Donald Trump will fail to make America great again in the way he’s promised. The factory jobs aren’t coming back, and neither are 4 percent growth rates. Even the desperate deals to keep individual plants running won’t stave off the robots: Carrier, for example, has already said it will put most of the money it promised to invest in its Indiana plant into automation. Which is why, despite the dangers of UBI, it remains an important time for the left to develop a view of a society less oriented around work: as the futility of Fordist nostalgia becomes more and more apparent, both here and around the globe, the left should seize the opportunity to push for a different view of what work should be, how much of it we should do, and what role it should play in our lives.

That will take time and a broad coalition—but not the one that Stern describes between the ultra-rich and the masses of gig workers, or even of post-ideological rationalists described by Bregman. Instead, the elements of a staunchly left and genuinely political coalition—comprised of workers who need more leverage and the unemployed, those fighting for a sustainable environment and racial justice, care workers both waged and unwaged—are nascent but increasingly visible.

The left hasn’t seriously organized around welfare rights for years. But in the coming years it will be more important than ever to defend what remains of U.S. social provision from Paul Ryan and company, particularly given the nasty racial tack that fight will undoubtedly take. And we can’t defend welfare just as a backstop for vulnerable and unlucky members of society, or as a handout to the benighted poor, but as a fundamental and universal good for all. In other words, we should advocate for the exact opposite of the Clintonian welfare reform programs of the 1990s, and the only kind of welfare program that can build a broad and universal constituency for social provision rather than marking out the undeserving poor.

A recent New York Times op-ed argued for UBI as a kind of reparations for decades of unpaid work done by women, echoing socialist-feminist arguments about the value of social reproduction. The Movement for Black Lives endorsed basic income as part of a reparations program, in the model of a new Freedom Budget. The labor movement in the United States has understandably focused on higher wages, but it can—and must—also revive the demand for shorter hours and more leisure. Basic income isn’t the only way to make that demand, and it isn’t even a necessary part of it—but its utopian elements can help drive a more visionary agenda for labor.

None of the UBI proposals we hear today—in Canada, the United Kingdom, or in France—is likely to be quite the basic income imagined by luxury communists (there aren’t enough of them to win an election yet), but they’re a start.

Utopia is possible. If we want it, though, we’ll need to make it a part of the demands and visions of the left movements we build over the next few years. Because we can’t just invent the future—we’re going to have to fight for it.

Alyssa Battistoni is a PhD candidate in political science at Yale University and an editor at Jacobin magazine.

Photo by (a)artwork

The post The False Promise of Universal Basic Income appeared first on P2P Foundation.

Firstly, it’s important to remember that the public is not always politically centrist. It is just as often politically radical, and this is often precisely what gives a new candidate popular appeal. In fact, many of the most significant elections of the 20th century have been won by candidates who were far from the political centre, and that’s why they won.

An on point analysis by Red Pepper’s James Fox on Jeremy Corbyn‘s “unelectable strategy”. Podemos would have done well to heed this argument before redirecting their political strategy towards a faux-social democrat position which saw them lose 1.2 million votes in Spain’s last national elections.

James Fox: Jeremy Corbyn has just gained the most support for the Labour Party since the 1945 election of Clement Attlee. A post-election poll from Survation, one of the pollsters that called the election the most accurately, now puts Labour ahead of the Conservatives by 6 percentage points, stating that Corbyn would win 45 per cent of the public vote (against the Conservatives’ 39 per cent) – 5 points up since the election only a few days ago.

This, we were told well before this campaign began and throughout it, was impossible. Corbyn was unelectable. He was too extreme, his policies were idealistic and his opinions were out of touch with the bulk of the British peoples’ values. ‘We have known this for years,’ the commentators said, ‘we have known this since Blair won an enormous parliamentary majority in 1997.’

There is an intuitive appeal to this logic. It was certainly an effective electoral strategy for Blair. He realised that Labour and the left in general were swimming hopelessly against the right wing tide of neoliberalism. This tide had become the new normal since the political landscape become dominated by a Thatcher-Reagan alliance throughout the 1980s.

Rather than resisting this neoliberal dominion, Blair took the opportunity to rebrand his party, not as an economic alternative to laissez-faire capitalism, but as a friendlier softer face on the same kinds of policy. He maintained the ‘for the people’ rhetoric while removing clause 4 from the party’s constitution (which stated that the party was a party for the workers which supported an ‘equitable distribution’ of ‘the fruits of their industry’).

Blair managed to create a sense of grassroots populist public support while appealing to conservative fears of ‘fiscal irresponsibility’ and ‘cracking down’ on crime, while simultaneously securing million pound donations from business interests.

In short, he hedged his bets. He covered as much ground as he could by appealing to left and right wing tendencies in the public, as well as ensuring that powerful elements within the political and economic system supported his campaign and understood that he had no intension of threatening their interests. It paid off for him fantastically. He won an enormous majority in parliament and gained Labour 145 seats, while the conservatives under John Major haemorrhaged 178. It was a historic electoral victory.

As we know, what came after this victory was less appealing to the public, and in 2003 provoked the largest protest against a government decision ever in the UK’s history. This led to Blair’s party losing 113 seats in 8 years – most of what he had gained in his rebranding and broadening (read watering-down) of the Labour Party. Five years after that, and two years after the massive financial crash which had been massaged by Blairite policies of financial deregulation, Labour was out, and they have remained out of power since (though it now seems that all that could change in a matter of weeks, or even days).

The long search for a new Blair

Throughout the last 20 years of decline in Labour control and support, we have been subjected to the insistence from most of the party that they need a new Blair, a new strong and inspiring centrist to reinvigorate the party’s base (which, we are told, is in the centre of the country, not the left). Brown, the Milibands (both the one they wanted and the one they got) and Owen Smith all tried to fill this Blairite void, but all of them ended up looking weaker than both their Tory opposition and their neoliberal predecessor.

The strategy of appealing to ‘the centre’ has not only been used by the Labour Party in recent years. The Conservatives have also become much more ‘centrist’ on a number of social issues, notably on issues like gay marriage. They too, especially since the rise of Corbyn, have been encouraged to move to the centre, including by Blairite strategists like John McTernan, who advised that it would be good policy for the Tories because ‘it is where the voters are’. Those six words have been the dominant electoral assumption of the past twenty years, in both the Labour party and the Conservative party. Throughout the UK but also in liberal parliamentary democracies all over the world, everyone has been trying to reach the ‘middle’.

It seems obvious doesn’t it? Why should a party be content with representing the views of a particular portion of the public when it can have its cake and eat it too? Well… I can think of a couple of reasons.

Firstly, it’s important to remember that the public is not always politically centrist. It is just as often politically radical, and this is often precisely what gives a new candidate popular appeal. In fact, many of the most significant elections of the 20th century have been won by candidates who were far from the political centre, and that’s why they won.

Take Thatcher’s victory in the UK, or Reagan in the US, not to mention Trump. Trudeau centred his campaign around forcing a significant break from establishment politics, and Tsipras in Greece sold Syriza as constituting a radical breaks with politics as usual (even if they failed to take on the EU’s power monopoly). Look at the Sanders campaign against Clinton, who would, I have no doubt, have beaten Clinton in the Democratic primaries, had his own party not conspired against him in favour of his establishment rival.

Secondly, what is called the ‘centre’ by Blairites is not the centre of public opinion – it’s the centre of conventional establishment opinion. It’s the centre of an establishment worldview that stands in the shadow of Thatcherism and in the middle of a media’s vested interests in defending a system which it partly constitutes. Many of the neoliberal policies Blairites espouse are fantastically unpopular with the majority of the public, particularly the unending wars which came with Blair and the unending austerity which came after his economic financialisation crashed in 2008. (For examples of popular policies, please refer to the 2017 Labour manifesto.)

Thirdly, moving to the ‘centre’ may have been a good election strategy in 1997, but it doesn’t seem to be a very popular way of governing, as history has shown. Making promises to every side of the argument might make a lot of people vote for you, but leading a country tends to be about making decisions which necessarily leave some people unhappy. Acting as if a government can leave every demographic satisfied does not make it so (especially when the public supporters of a party have such different demands from the private interests which fund it). British politics is about taking sides, not about standing in the middle. Just look at the architecture of the House of Commons – the whole thing is built around conflict.

But there is really no need for me to list all the reasons that Blair’s centrism has failed. It was laid out in front of our eyes on Thursday evening. The rise of Corbyn has delegitimised not only the Conservative Party and austerity politics (with a little help from May’s groundbreaking incompetence), but also the idea that the best way to get votes is to appeal to the political centre.

The pull of the centre

So what caused the last twenty years of the Labour Party to have been so dominated by this reductive and closed-minded political vision? I think there are basically three reasons for it:

First is that in 1997 Blair won a genuinely massive majority which kept his party in power for 13 years. The weight of this as a political achievement should not be underplayed. However, the years since then have shown that trying to stay in the ‘centre’ of a political establishment which is publicly unpopular is a bad political strategy, especially when it includes backing austerity politics which harm almost the entire electorate.

Second, Blairite politicians and the institutionalised media have defended the centrist strategy because they personally benefit from it. This is probably the prime reason that this conventional logic has been so viciously defended by elements in the Labour party and by the vast majority of the print media.

It does not, however, explain why so many average voters continued to passionately defend ‘centrism’ along with the media, while vitriolically attacking Corbyn for his attempt to take the party back to its roots. Yes, to a large degree a complex system of propaganda is to blame, but it is too simplistic to dismiss Corbyn-scepticism on this basis, and it doesn’t win people over to tell them that they have swallowed lies.

Echo chambers aren’t just on social media

In my view, the most relevant and revealing reason for the near unanimous cynicism of Corbyn in the media, and widespread scepticism of his chances according to public opinion, can only be satisfactorily understood by invoking the image of an ‘echo-chamber’ or ‘media bubble’.

We have all heard about people being stuck in echo-chambers, especially young people, particularly since the humiliating defeat of Ed Miliband in 2015. We are often told that our little voices bounce out from our social media accounts to our 100 or so followers, but never gain enough traction to make any difference to anything. We live in a social-media bubble which only tells us what we want to hear and only shows us what our personalised algorithm thinks we will ‘like’.

My point is not that we don’t live in media-bubbles – if you’re reading this you most probably already agree with the gist of what I’ve been writing. Nor am I saying that social media won Corbyn the election – I think it may have had a large effect, but nowhere close to the popularity of the party’s policies and Corbyn’s ethical integrity.

My point is that the right-wing, the establishment and the political ‘centre’ are all just as liable to fall into their echo-chambers as anyone else. That’s why the mainstream media never considered that people might like Corbyn’s policies, or him as a leader. That’s why May and her advisors arrogantly thought they could announce a cynical election for political gain and increase their majority. That’s why practically no-one on the TV even considered the possibility that Corbyn might do well, even when the polls started turning – they concluded that the polls must be wrong!

They were wrong because they did not look outside their ideological boxes; they did not properly consider the factor of change and the importance of analysing factors in the context of a changing public opinion. By no means is this mediation easy, far from it. But it is possible, I think, only if one keeps in mind that things always change, everything gives way and nothing stays fixed (just ask Heraclitus).

Yes, there are periods of political stagnation and depoliticisation, but those who think they have found the way to win every election are always proven wrong. Knowing what is going to happen next is always a matter of listening to what is changing, not what stays the same, nor what works ‘every time’. There is just as much of a danger in journalists trusting what their colleagues say and Theresa May trusting what her advisors tell her as there is in trusting what our newsfeeds tell us.

Next time we could well be wrong. We cannot get complacent. This is the beginning of something new – it isn’t the end of anything.

The change that will emerge from the Corbyn shift is, obviously, impossible to know. But what we do know is that political discourse in the UK has been irreversibly changed. One movement has been categorically thrust into the political mainstream, and another has died.

Photo by Andy Miah

The post Why elections are not won from the center appeared first on P2P Foundation.

Telekommunisten have created a Facebook game to promote #votelabour

Put On Your Corbyn Face might be the first ever Facebook game that you play with empathy and feeling. Your score depends on how well you can reproduces the emotion in a picture of Jeremy Corbyn!

https://gamesforthemany.com/corbynface/

Telekommunisten promote Venture Communism. Venture Communism is rooted in a network of co-operatives. The key idea is to replace the institutions of the bourgeois state. Instead, we intend to build the new society within the shell of the old. One that is commons-based, bottom-up, and worker-controlled.

In the mean time, millions depend on the bourgeois state. Heath care, housing, education and many other social goods depend on the state. While we are building the P2P future, we depend on the present institutions. Without them, communities face more precarity, and have less capacity to build alternatives.

For this reason, when the opportunity presents itself to make things better, we need to act.

We don’t expect the bourgeois state to build the commons for us. We act when direct political participation can make a difference.

The Jeremy Corbyn campaign is such an opportunity.

Like all who would restrict the ability of the wealthy few to expand their wealth. Like all who would not make the few richer at the expense of the many. Corbyn has faced merciless resistance from the establishment. He has has faced an especially biased press.

We know that centralized capitalist social media is oppressive and profit focused. Despite this, it is one way where individuals can help. By sharing, people can support Jeremy Corbyn’s Labour Party against Theresa May’s Tories. May and the Tories support banning cryptography, which P2P software depends on. They support the privatization of the NHS. They support austerity, war, and environmental catastrophe.

A Facebook game was a way for us to make a positive contribution.

Put On Your Corbyn Face uses your webcam. The classification system uses an open source JavaScript library called clmtracker. The library compares 60 points on your face to a photo of Jeremy Corbyn. The better you are able to emulate the emotion in Jeremy’s face, the higher your score.

After you play, you have the option to share your score on Facebook, or download it, and share elsewhere.

Use this special link to play and share the slogan “When you hear that banning cryptography will make the UK safer”

https://gamesforthemany.com/corbynface/#18

Each time somebody shares their score on Facebook, they reach hundreds of people.

In Solidarity,
Baruch Gottlieb, Dmytri Kleiner

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