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Corrosive substances – A knee-jerk reaction or a sensible solution?

Corrosive substances

Following the apparent growth in acid attacks the suggestion from Amber Rudd on a potential means of tackling the problem has all the markings of another knee-jerk policy that lacks careful planning and application. The proposal is to restrict the sales of corrosive substances and introduce new, specific legislation for possession and use of such substances against another person. The justification for these suggestions is based on the doubling of attacks between 2012 and 2016-17. Furthermore a 6 month review by National Police Chiefs Council (NPCC) report 400 acid or corrosive substance attacks between October 2016 and April 2017. The impact of such attacks is long lasting and without question, a horrific life changing experience, however is this reaction the right one for all concerned?

The plan to ban the sale of corrosive substances to under 18s in itself may be a sensible idea, if there is careful consultation on what substances are to be included in this blanket approach. A similar approach already exists with the sale of knives, tobacco and alcohol yet the extent to which these policies are a success is a moot point. Policing such an approach will also be considerably challenging because there is currently no clear outline of what the government intends to class as a corrosive substance. If the suggestions that bleach will be on the list then this may prove very difficult, if not impossible to police. Many of the corrosive substances being used today are household names readily available in most local shops and supermarkets, not to mention the internet. When purchasing items subject to restriction on the internet, the only check of age is you clicking a button to confirm it and maybe adding a date of birth, neither of which are particularly secure.

Taking this a step further the other suggestion is the creation of a new offence; possession of a corrosive substance in a public place. Such legislation is modelled on legislation already used to tackle knife offences and offensive weapons whereby a prison sentence of upto 4 years can be issues for possession, with intent to carry out an attack. However, why is such an approach necessary when perpetrators of acid attacks can already receive a life sentence under existing legislation. Is it because of the tremendous success of the approach taken to knife crime?  Unlikely, if you consider the resistance by the judiciary to use such an approach which would inevitably lead to much higher prison numbers than we already have. In short, the ‘do it again…threat’ is highly unlikely to act as a deterrence when deterrence as a reason for punishment has long been questionable.

Is this another knee-jerk reaction to media hype? Evidence of another poorly considered policy response driven by political self-interest and the desire to be ‘seen to be doing something’. Many of these attacks have been linked to societies folk devils; youth or personal vendetta’s therefore rather than creating new policy, why not focus on existing measures using them to their full force and improving the services offered to the victims of these heinous crimes. Under existing legislations those convicted of an acid attack can receive a life sentences so why new legislation. Survivors also get a life sentence so surely the more appropriate response is to focus on victim’s needs (physical and psychological) rather than the creation  of unnecessary legislation

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Is freedom too great a price to pay?

Freedom

The 1st of October was a bad day, I watched the news on television in dismay, as I seem to frequently do these days.  Fifty eight people killed and hundreds injured by a gunman in Las Vegas.  Over a few days I thought about this and continued watching news bulletins and the discussion on gun control and the right to bear arms.  I recall previously seeing Barak Obama on television, lamenting the illegal use of guns in the United States and attempting to convince people that gun possession needed to be controlled.  He failed, but from news reports not for the want of trying.  The gun lobby and politics were a powerful block on any movement in that direction.

The present incumbent Donald Trump does not seem to have much to say about the matter other than the usual platitudes that come out at a time of national disaster.  So my thoughts turned to politics and ideology.  I can’t profess to know much about American politics or the American Constitution but as I understand it, the right to bear arms is written into the Constitution. The debate about whether the Second Amendment intended that ordinary citizens had the right to bear arms or the right to bear arms was intended for the militia is one that has continued for many a decade and it seems the courts, not without some dissent, fell on the side of the citizen.

As I continue to try to make sense of it all, I question what was intended by those great people that drafted and redrafted and finally agreed the American Constitution.  If the very people that debated and drafted the constitution were to consider the matter now, in contemporary society, knowing the advanced technology and the damage that firearms have caused across America, including the illegal use of firearms in the name of the law, would they have drafted the second amendment in such a way?

Of course we can think about this concept a little wider and apply it to various ideologies across the world.  Take the concept of free speech, would those that drafted the various constitutions and rights in many a country have foreseen that the concept of free speech would be used to spread hate against various groups of people?  Did they intend that free speech would be used to adulterate and twist religious texts so that hate could be espoused and acted upon?

These rights were drafted and agreed in a different era.  Those that espoused them could perhaps not have conceived that they would be abused to the extent they are now or that the concepts would cause so much damage and misery. If we could bring all those great minds together now, would they amend those rights perhaps putting some stipulations on them?

I have a feeling that many a great mind would turn in their graves at these notions and of course I understand it is not quite so simple but I do just wonder? Is freedom too great a price to pay?

The black hole of danger aka online dating

Black hole

Like so many other singles in the world I decided to join the realms of online dating. Little did I know what I would encounter and the subsequent conversations that would unfold in the office. So, this week’s blog is a reflection on some of those criminogenic discussions that have both amused and appalled us over the last couple of week. I have to start by saying that, on the whole, there are a lot of nice genuine people out there just looking for ‘the one’. That said, this perspective was put into question on Tuesday when I received my first ‘dick pic’. Not being someone who takes this sort of thing too seriously I giggled and deleted the person, however it raised a number of questions about behaviour and our responses to it. For example, on a personal level why was I not offended? Has this type of behaviour become the norm? Is it something that women now expect or at least accept? It’s a big step up from a wolf whistle in the street or the honking horn and leery comment shouted from the window of a passing car.

In essence this is a sex crime, whether you class it as distribution of pornographic material or indecent exposure it is a crime and therefore raises the question of whether I have a moral and or legal obligation to protect other women by reporting it. Yet here in lies the problem, firstly the most the site can or will do is to delete the user who will ultimately just create another profile, secondly in the grand scheme of things the police have neither the resources nor inclination to investigate. Whilst these are pertinent considerations, the fact that I didn’t report it but instead deleted him (and his picture I might add) has, upon reflection, little to do with the potential response and more to do with the perception of risk. The lack of physical proximity provides a sense of security, albeit tenuous, that you wouldn’t have if this happened to you in the street.

In the online world I have a relatively safe profile and I can delete or block those who cause me offence. Whilst it is true that nothing we do online is truly anonymous, there is a sense of detachment created by the lack of proximity and direct risk which can turn deviant behaviour into something abstract. Is that why someone who is otherwise a law-abiding citizen or at least not a sexual predator feels that it is appropriate to send a relative stranger such images? I do wonder whether they actually make the link between physical actions and virtual ones. I suspect that if confronted most of them would not see their behaviour as criminal or even comparable to someone who exposes himself in public.

The more concerning aspect of this is the potential emotional and psychological damage that could be done. While I spent my youth working in clubs and pubs, exposed to a range of male behaviours and thus gained the experience to navigate this terrain, can the same be said for today’s younger population for whom the internet and online dating may be the norm. This led me to consider my daughters and how to prepare them for this online version of the world that I experienced in the physical. How do I explain why guys would send such pictures to an unknown woman when I can’t even begin to fathom that out myself? How do I prepare them for the emotional roller coaster of online dating where a text message lacks the physical prompts needed to decipher it and can easily lead to confusion, misinterpretation, sexual exploitation and psychological harm. Where parenting is concerned the internet and online dating presents a black hole of danger and one which I’ll have to navigate with care if I want to protect my daughters from the ‘dick pic’ senders of the world.

Speeding towards disaster: the absence of a capable guardian

car crash

Vehicles are lethal weapons, we all recognise that, particularly after the reminders given to us by the terrorist attacks across Europe.  Every year in this country, there are more people killed on the roads than there are as a result of murder and yet people still drive on the roads like complete morons.  It seems that driving cars, vans, and lorries brings out aggressive behaviour that to most would seem quite out of character.   A good few years ago, the media castigated ‘White Van Man’, the drivers of white vans that displayed all the worst of driving behaviours, in particular positioning their vehicles aggressively so close to another vehicles’s rear bumper that they might as well have been sitting in the boot.

The shame of it is that White Van Man is now replaced by the general driving public. Gender and age seem to have no bearing on the manner of driving.  Minor mistakes and indiscretions by other drivers are punished with blaring horns, flashing headlights and hand gestures more at home on the football terraces, although if you watched the recent England game, you might suggest on the pitch as well.  Drivers barge their way past parked cars despite oncoming traffic and drive at speeds exceeding the speed limit.  The dual carriageway that reverts to a single carriageway sees drivers racing to get ahead of each other determined not to let anyone into the now single file of traffic.

And yet, introduce a capable guardian, I borrowed the term from Felson’s 1998 Routine Activity Theory, and behaviour seems to change almost instantaneously; let me explain.  The village I live in is fairly large and sits on the outskirts of a county town.  The village is expanding rapidly and consequently through traffic can be quite considerable, particularly during school runs. This accompanied by pedestrians on narrow pathways and the gaggle of school children massing around the bus stop waiting for the bus to another village increases risk considerably.  The road which meanders in and out of both semi-rural and urbanised space has a thirty mile an hour speed limit and the odd flashing sign that warns motorists to slow down.  Not unreasonable given the volume of traffic and pedestrians and yet it has little meaning to drivers, including those carrying children in the car, who regularly exceed the speed limit.  Dare to drive at thirty miles an hour and you will rapidly find cars sitting on your rear bumper itching to get by or aggressively getting closer and closer in an attempt to bully you into going faster.   A slight glimpse of empty road sees overtaking manoeuvres more suitable to the Silverstone racetrack but accomplished by drivers who probably lack anything like the skill required.  Demonic aggression and recklessness is the name of the game and yet the very same drivers will change their driving behaviour just a few minutes later.

About a mile from my village is a small hamlet dissected by a fairly busy road.  The speed limit leading up to the hamlet is 40 miles an hour and the speed limit through the hamlet is 30 miles an hour.  Watch vehicles traverse this stretch of road and you will see politeness, adherence to the speed limit and gaps between vehicles that would make the author of the highway code proud.  Why such change in behaviour, you probably already know? Two somewhat insignificant, inconspicuous, despite the bright yellow paint, average speed cameras. Nobody knows if they function but they certainly work.  It seems that altering driver behaviour is simply down to the presence of a capable guardian but it does beg the question why so many people have little regard for the law or their fellow human beings when they get into that driving seat.

The Criminology of the Future

metropolis

As we are gleefully coming towards the start of yet another academic year, we tend to go through a number of perpetual motions; reflect on the year past, prepare material for the upcoming year and make adjustments on current educational expectations.  Academics can be creatures of habit, even if their habit is to change things over.  Nonetheless, there are always milestones that we all observe no matter the institution or discipline.  The graduation, for example brings to an end the degree aspirations of a cohort, whilst Clearing and Welcome Week offer an opportunity of a new group of applicants to join a cohort and begin the process again.  Academia like a pendulum swings constantly, replenishing itself with new generations of learners who carry with them the imprint of their social circumstance.

It was in the hectic days at Clearing that my mind began to wonder about the future of education and more importantly about criminology.  A discipline that emerged at an unsettled time when urban life and modernity began to dominate the Western landscape.  Young people (both in age and/or in spirit) began to question traditional notions about the establishment and its significance.  The boundaries that protect the individual from the whim of the authorities was one of those fundamental concerns on criminological discourses.  A 19th century colleague questions the notion of policing as an established institution, thus challenging its authority and necessity.  An end of 20th century colleague may be involved in the training of those involved in policing.  Changing times, arguably.  Quite; but what is the implications for the discipline?

My random example can be challenged on many different fronts; the contested nature of a colleague as a singular entity that sees the world in a singular gaze; or the ability to diversify on the perspectives each discipline observes.  It does nonetheless, raises a key question: what expectations can we place on the discipline for the 21st century.

If we and our students are the participants of social change as it happens in our society then our impressions and experiences can help us formulate a projective perspective of the future.  Our knowledge of the past is key to supplying an understanding of what we have done before, so that we can comprehend the reality in a way that will allow us to give it the vocabulary it deserves.  A colleague recently posted on twitter her agony about “vehicles being the new terrorist weapon,” asking what is the answer.  The answer to violence is exactly the same; whether a person gets in a van, or goes home and uses a bread knife to harm their partner.  Everyday objects that can be utilised to harm.  A projection in the future could assert that this phenomenon is likely to continue.  The Romans called it Alea iacta est and it was the moment you decide to act.  In my heart this is precisely the debate about the future of criminology; is it crime with or without free will?

“Sticks and stones will break my bones, but names will never hurt me”

Sticks and stones

The academic year is almost over and it offers the time and space to think.  It’s easy to become focused on what needs to be done – for staff; teaching and marking assessments, for students; studying and writing assessments – which leaves little time to stop and contemplate the bigger questions. But without contemplation, academic life becomes less vibrant and runs the risk of becoming procedural and task oriented, rather than the pursuit of knowledge. Reading becomes a chore instead of a pleasure, mindlessly trying to make sense of words, without actually taking time out to think what does this actually mean. We’re all guilty of trying to fill every minute with activity; some meaningful, some meaningless that we forget to stop, relax and let our minds wander. Similarly, writing becomes a barrier because we focus on doing rather than thinking. With this in mind what follows is not a reasoned academic argument but rather a stream of thought

As some of you will remember, a while ago Manos and I had a discussion around words in Criminology (Facebook Live: 24.10.16). In particular, whether words can, or should, be banned and if there is a way of reclaiming, or rehabilitating language. Differing views have emerged, with some strongly on the side of leaving words deemed offensive to die out, whilst others have argued for reclamation of the very same terms. Others still have argued for the reclamation of language, but only by those who the language was targeted toward.

All this talk made me think about the way we use language in crime and justice and the impact this has on the individuals involved. This can be seen in everyday life with the depiction of criminals and victims, the innocents and the guilty, recidivists and those deemed rehabilitated, but we rarely consider the long-lasting effects of these words on individuals.

The recent commemoration (27.07.17) of the fiftieth anniversary of the Sexual Offences Act 1967 brought some of these thoughts to the forefront of my mind.  This legislation partially decriminalised sex between men (aged 21 or over) but only in private, meaning that homosexual relationship were confined and any public expression of affection was still liable to criminal prosecution. This anniversary, coming six months after the passing of “Turing’s Law” (officially, the Policing and Crime Act 2017) made me think about the way in which we recompense these men; historically identified as criminals but contemporaneously viewed in a very different light.

I view the gist of “Turing’s Law” as generally positive, offering the opportunity for both the living and dead, to clear their names and expunge their criminal records. After all it allows society to recognise the wrongs done in the name of the law to a not unsubstantial group of citizens. For me, where this legal righting of wrongs falls down, is in the wording. To offer someone a pardon suggests they are forgiven for their “sins” rather than acknowledging that the law (and society) got it wrong. It does not recognise the harm suffered by these men over the course of their lifetimes; a conviction for sexual offending cannot be shrugged off or easily explained away and leaves an indelible mark. Furthermore, whilst the dead are to be pardoned posthumously, the onus is on the men still living, to seek out their own disregard and pardon.

Working-Class foundations and the ‘inner-inferiority battle’

Sam is a 2017 graduate having read BA Criminology with Sociology. His blog entry reflects on the way in which personal experience and research can sometimes collide. His dissertation is entitled Old Merseyside, New Merseyside: An investigation into the long-term relationship of the Merseyside public and the police, following the Hillsborough Stadium Disaster, 1989.

You'll_Never_Walk_Alone_(13976345652)

This little piece has been inspired by the process of writing a dissertation that, having focused on the Hillsborough Stadium Disaster of 1989, the police, government and the media, inherently highlighted issues of class and punitive attitudes. It is one of completely subjective nature that I can not possibly explain or explore in enough depth here, but it is certainly not a proclamation of superiority of one social class over another.

The 1980s Conservative Government (namely, Thatcher), football fans, violence and football hooliganism, media and police; all have their links to one another, all have links to the working-class. The Hillsborough Stadium Disaster, prior to, during and even some 28 years later was influenced by all of these. Who Suffered? The working-class. They were victims, offenders, liars and hooligans. In many respects, this was the ultimate fruition of the aforementioned elements, and could now justify further punitive action against socially constructed concepts of working-class, masculine-fuelled disorder by the Government. Step Forward, Professor Phil Scraton.

Mr Hillsborough, Phil Scraton, the working-class boy that redefined the notion of inferiority amongst a typically working-class Merseyside. He sketched new boundaries for the working-class, but not before he himself felt ‘totally estranged’ to be at University and that it was not ‘for the likes of him’ (Scraton, 2017) . This is what I term the inner-battle.

I can relate. The working-class background I classify myself as growing up in does not mean I am any better or worse than any other class members. As a child, often working-class means nothing to you apart from the occasional taunts and the disappointment of not having the top gadgets of other children, or the most expensive shoes. This kind of belittlement can embed and settle within your mind, to costly effect in later life. But it does differentiate me, I feel, in the way I am able to reflect on situations. Sunday 15th September, 2013, the day after moving into University, I felt the same. Yet I had a habit at school of proving people wrong and thriving on it. I didn’t simply succumb to the pressure of knowing people expected me to fail or simply didn’t believe I would succeed . And here we are with a substantial issue in criminology; the notion of working-class inferiority through stereotypes. Socially constructed ideas of working-class and crime and consequently the self-fulfilling prophecy, which then authenticates the original concept. This is a psychological battle. Undeniably, the working class are not strictly exclusive to psychological battles with themselves, but it is a unique battle in a way.

In this same way, the Hillsborough families could have read the headlines, acknowledged the power of the institutions they were dealing with, and accepted their fate and their injustice, especially given the numerous setbacks over the years. Yes they will say they would never give up, but they are only human, and could be forgiven for thinking of succumbing to the inner-pressure, caused by the external, institutional pressure and ultimately just lose the battle. 28 years later they are gaining more and more momentum and are overturning all the social, institutional injustice of the past 3 decades. Individual families may not have been so working-class, but the representation of them was as a working-class mob all those years ago. They fought the inferiority battle.

Professor Phil Scraton did not succumb to his inner battle of feeling out of place, like a small fish in a very large ocean. But all too often working-class people seem to give in, having accepted their early experiences as pronouncing their social inferiority. I sit here now, having failed one dissertation and coming much closer to failing the resit than I would have ever imagined in August last year. The battle was not between University and myself. It was the inner-processes that lie between myself and the end of University. Forcing yourself to do things that at times, you don’t believe you can do, and others especially do not, in order to reach the end goal.

Ultimately, meeting Professor Phil Scraton and hearing of some of the families experiences and their unrelenting desire and growing momentum in obtaining their long-awaited justice first-hand, sparked the realisation that it is simply a mental barrier, a fight within regarding inferiority that stood between them and justice. Had they have lost their inner-battle twenty years ago, they would not still be fighting so effectively, if at all. This is completely applicable to many other situations regarding working-class people in everyday life.

Undoubtedly, this is a view based on experience that is biased in some way, yet challenges the issue of stereotypes. It is also open to blogging and academic retaliation by those of other backgrounds. These socially constructed notions and stereotypes have longstanding effects on so many people, yet I would argue is overlooked and simply put down to being lazy by outsiders and “can’t-do”, inferior attitudes of those in the working-class circle. Interestingly, this debate has not even touched upon racial, ethnic, gender/sex issues, for which the idea of inferiority could often be a detrimental inner-battle, stemming from discriminatory, stereotypical views.

 

Scraton, P. (2017). Hillsborough: Resisting Injustice, Recovering Truth. [Professional presentation]. University of Liverpool. 15th February. Available at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I0K4iDgrJQo

Failing the Vulnerable

Greg is a BA Criminology graduate of 2017 and was motivated to write this blog through the experience of his own dissertation. His dissertation was on the Experiences of Homelessness, Victimisation and Criminalisation.

Keep your coins

Since 2010 homelessness has more than doubled, rising each year and showing no sign of decline. Such statistics signify the governments failure to help those most in need and vulnerable as well as the government’s unsuccessful and ineffective policies. In addition to the rise in homelessness, affordable housing in London has also fallen by 98% since 2010, coinciding with the rise of homelessness. As homelessness has increased, so has victimisation. This is mainly due to their exposure and perceived vulnerability on the streets as most of their victimisation is hate crimes as they are scapegoated for the structural problems in our society.

Prior to writing my dissertation I knew there was relatively high rates of victimisation amongst the homeless, however nothing would prepare me for the participants’ experiences and stories, providing me with incite into the lives of the homeless; the despair and desperation when rough sleeping and surviving as well as the misfortune and harm they experienced throughout. Participants would explain being urinated on, spat on, verbally abused as well as feeling criminalised, stigmatised and marginalised, with all such phenomena interlinking together. What was evident in their stories was the extent of the damage to self-esteem and identity the experiences of homelessness can do to a person. After being utterly and brutally damaged by the public, council and poor services they isolate themselves further as they ‘give up’ on seeking help from services and reject any form of support as they feel ‘undeserving’ or feel it will not lead to anything. In addition participants explained how they felt like second-class citizens, that they were not treated like humans. I found that the homeless are extremely sensitive and vulnerable, much of how you treat them has extensive effects on their sense of self-worth. What was beautiful to see was the tremendous appreciation they had for services that provided them with adequate and effective support, giving them the confidence to excel as they felt they had found their identity and were not shackled to the stigma of homelessness, no longer isolating themselves.
The subject is indeed a delicate one and services and society in general must treat the homeless with compassion and empathy, and also be sensitive to their reality, interpretations and meanings of their experiences. It is not a black and white issue, it is more complex than that, and for services to work they must tailor to their subjective needs and be aware of the different experiences. Although they may experience similar phenomena, it cannot be generalised to fit a ‘one size fits all’ strategy. For example, I met addicts, refugees, victims of domestic violence and many other different pasts that led to homelessness.

Perhaps we should not question people’s individual circumstances and moral failures but instead protest and reject the never-ending austerity and terrible social and economic decisions we have had for over a decade.

Fighting the Tide or Following the Current?

This week’s blog is a reflective piece that will, I think, resonate with some of my ‘Outsiders’ students and perhaps with criminologists more broadly. It concerns the nagging tension between being a reluctant capitalist subject and a critical criminologist, more specifically between the roles of consumer and critic. Whilst criminology undoubtedly possesses transformative potential, particularly in its critical and ultra-realist forms, some sections of the discipline and arguably some, but certainly not all, of its proponents sit comfortably within the very structures subject to criticism during the ‘working day’. Indeed, we (and I include myself in this) hold the world to rights from 9-5 Monday to Friday then disavow the many harms we so vehemently lecture/write about whilst indulging in conspicuous consumption on weekends; fitting neatly into the circuitry of consumer capitalism.

Whilst I resolutely resist the drive to mask the fallout of free-market capitalism by not giving to charity, which is, as Žižek (2009:19) notes, the quintessential “humanitarian mask hiding the face of economic exploitation”, I am guilty of indulging a range of consumer impulses. It would be nice if this dilemma was as simple as being a hypocrite, something I could rectify by having a strong word with myself. Unfortunately, the reality is that this reflects a tension that emerges from occupying a social terrain that requires a dual identity and one within which the risks of protesting too ardently are severe.

Yet rather than serving as a vestigial port from which to take critical aim at pressing issues the university sector, as an industry, compounds this tension further. For criminology in particular the irony is painful. We occupy positions in what is now a heavily marketised sector; one that dictates the state of play based on the logic of the market, on catering for elusive customers rather than educating students. The irony of course is that, as criminologists, we are employed to research, write and lecture about criminalised and un-criminalised harms that pervade the social world by a sector whose neoliberal institutions have no qualms about inflicting severe harm on those who work and study within them. Universities seem to have become marketised, profit seeking institutions that pay lip service to helping communities whilst adopting the very structures that cause severe harm to society.

Perhaps the university can no longer be seen as a place from which to do some good. Or perhaps there is still a great deal of good that can be done from under the neoliberals’ nose. Either way, we cannot retain a blind and baseless optimism that refuses to acknowledge and tackle the many harms of neoliberalism, including those inflicted by the university sector. Rather, we should maintain an ultra-realist commitment to “explaining the world as it is, warts and all” (Winlow and Hall 2013:175).

 

Justin Kotzé, July 2017

References

Winlow, S. and Hall, S. (2013) Rethinking Social Exclusion: The End of the Social? London: Sage Publications Ltd.

Žižek, S. (2009) Violence: Six Sideways Reflections. London: Profile Books Ltd.

The business of government

 

Government responsibility

A few weeks ago, the gas company started digging up the road outside my house as part of major works to replace gas pipes in the village. Days after starting the work, holes filled with water and a muddy stream gushed out across the pavement and down the street. Belatedly, the water company turned up and promptly blamed the gas company for the problem. They were unable to do any repairs owing to a submerged electrical cable fizzing away. The electricity company wouldn’t do any work until they knew who would pay for it.  Several days later following intervention of the local highways department the matter was resolved. But the mud left on mine and my neighbour’s drive, the pavement, and the street had to be cleared by me and my neighbours. Not cost effective to clean up I guess.

What rapidly became apparent is that the driving force behind the work and the argument over who pays is profit, not public service, purely finance. Friedman (1962) advocated that the only duty of a business was to maximise profits for the benefits of the company and its shareholders, it had no responsibility to the public or society. I don’t have problem with this ideology, business is about making money not providing public services. So, who has responsibility for looking after the public’s interests, well that’s government surely. After all, as Locke advocated in the 17th century, it is government that has a duty to ensure ‘the peace, safety and public good of the people’ (Locke 1689:299).

Much of what the public need, in the way of welfare, health services, social services, criminal justice, education and a myriad of other service provisions are not profitable, in fact they are in a true business sense not financially viable. It is government that needs to take the lead on these and it is government that needs to ensure that the services are run for the public good. So why then do we hear every service state that they are in financial difficulties, that they need to cut back services, that they cannot cope?  Because government has not done its job. It doesn’t really matter what flavour government you prefer, left or right, conservative or labour, socialist or capitalist, over the last half a century, government has quite simply failed to deliver. Instead it has abrogated responsibility to business, social enterprise, voluntary organisations, and the public. It blames society, the poor, the underclass, the immigrants and youth. It blames those running its own apparatus, the police the prisons, the schools, and the health service amongst others. Government has become self-serving and introspective, it has taken on a business ethos.  It sets its own agendas based on not what is good for the people but what is good for government and those that serve in it. Government congratulates itself on its own defined successes and glosses over disasters. Government has forgotten its true purpose.

The small hiccup in my road is inconsequential compared to the recent tragic events in our country but it served as a reminder, if ever I needed one, that business and the business of government are a toxic mix. Government would do well to remember ‘Salus populi suprema lex esto’, ‘Let the welfare of the people be the supreme law’, (Locke 1689: title page).

 

Friedman, M. (1962) Capitalism and Freedom: Fortieth anniversary edition, reprint, London: University of Chicago 2002.

Locke, T. (1689) Two Treatises of Government, reprint, London: Whitmore and Fenn 1821 [online] available at https://archive.org/details/twotreatisesofg00lockuoft [accessed 26/6/2017].

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