If you don’t believe me, then read his latest book (The War We Never Fought, on drugs) which arrived here yesterday and is ... well, I hardly know the words with which to praise it, although I am going to have to find some, since my own next effort is being rewritten in order to include a review of it in the chapter that also reviews The Abolition of Britain, The Abolition of Liberty, The Rage Against God and The Cameron Delusion.
In the meantime, Peter Hitchens writes:
Is State Ownership Socialist? Why? What is the
logic that leads people to believe this? One of the things I have striven hard to do is to
destroy the lazy view that the left is in some way wedded to state ownership,
while it is in some way conservative to want the winds of the free market to
whistle and howl, unobstructed, across the landscape. The left’s real interests are moral, cultural,
sexual and social. They lead to a powerful state. This not because they
actively set out to achieve one. many leftists fondly imagine they are rebels
against authority, and liberators of mankind. It is because the
left’s ideas – by their nature – undermine conscience, self-restraint, deferred
gratification, lifelong marriage and strong, indivisible families headed by
authoritative fathers. Without these things, society becomes anarchic, chaotic,
lustful and violent – unless it is very heavily policed and supervised.
Left-wingers are also convinced of their own
goodness and rightness, and so do not object to acquiring the strong
centralised powers, and the freedom to pry into the lives of others, which such
an arrangement gives them. Far from it. I sought for years for a clear statement of the
ideas which motivate the modern left, especially the 1960s New Left, which
marched alongside sex, drugs and rock and roll, and which later came to embrace
the various sexual revolutions of our time, and what is called political
correctness. But I came to the conclusion, in the end, that it
was a negative force, not a positive one. It was based above all on the angry
rejection of the ideas of Protestant Christianity. This is what distinguished
it from the modest and often Christian-based reform movements of the 19th and
early 20th centuries, on whose shoulders the modern left perches and squawks.
It arose not out of any great desire, but out of the slow but relentless
decline, now a collapse, of Christianity as a moral and intellectual power in
Britain.
The shape of atheism in each modern society is a
mirror of the religion which has previously dominated that society. There is, I
think, such a thing as a Protestant atheist, as distinct from a Roman
Catholic or an Orthodox atheist. There are even Anglican atheists (such as my
late brother Christopher, Professor Richard Dawkins and the author, Philip
Pullman). Much of their thinking is simply oppositional. The
nation state is opposed because it was a conservative force. The monoculture is
opposed because it, too, was religious and conservative. (This leads,
paradoxically, to the ecouragement or at least the appeasement of Islam).
Rigorous, authoritative education is opposed, at the moment,
because it is (or was) the education of the conservative enemy. That is
why Oxford and Cambridge Universities are doomed to be comprehensivised, and so
ruined, even though they are valuable national assets. Likewise the
grammar schools had to be smashed, because they reinforced the middle class,
and encouraged individual liberation from poverty. The left wanted to liberate
people, but only if they could be told exactly how they would be liberated, and
by whom, and in what way - and if they could be persuaded to think they owed
their liberation to the left. Grammar schools were the opposite of that. Why,
their products might thtink they had freed themselves.
If the British revolution ever ends, it
will probably become quite stern about school discipline, and very strong on a
sort of crude ‘law and order’ with heavy-handed policing, ASBOs, parents
made responsible for the misdeeds of their children (while simultaneously
having been rendered powerless to discipline them) . Something of this kind, a
sort of social counter-revolution, did take place in Stalin’s USSR in the late
1920s and early 1930s. Even the policy on abortion was reversed (to the shock
of foreign radicals, who had admired the slaughter of innocents from afar, and
longed to emulate it here) , because Stalin foresaw an urgent need for
cannon-fodder in the near future. The social radicals who had been powerful
immediately after the revolution were pushed to one side, and in fact never
fully recovered their position, as the USSR became the chief nation of a
warlike and authoritarian empire, whose reactionary, chauvinistic nationalism
– in the end – outdid that of 19th century Prussia.
Nationalisation of industry has never had much to do with radical leftism. Why ever should it? (Something similar could be said of the all-encompassing welfare state, pioneered by Otto von Bismarck in Imperial Germany, to try to checkmate Social Democracy, and also by enlightened business men such as the Rowntrees and Lord Leverhulme). Most continental countries nationalised railways as a matter of course, as they saw them as strategic assets which could not be left to the caprice of the market. Even the most laissez-faire countries have tended to nationalise railways in fact, if not in name, during wartime. I simply cannot see what is socialist or radical about this. As I have pointed out before here, Charles II nationalised the British post office, Neville Chamberlain nationalised electricity generation and supply, Eisenhower nationalised American Interstate Highways (on the absurd pretext that their main purpose was as evacuation routes in a nuclear war). Margaret Thatcher nationalised local government. Michael Gove is currently nationalising English and Welsh schools, though the ‘academy’ scheme. Roy Jenkins nationalised the police, through compulsory force mergers and the creation of central bodies which selected and trained chief officers, and gave the Home Office more or less total operational power over them. Successive Labour and Tory governments have been nationalising the magistrates’ courts, replacing local JPs with centrally-appointed ‘District Judges’, and closing small and convenient local courthouses.
Many of these measures (though not
officially described as nationalisation) are far more intrusive in the lives of
individuals, and more potent menaces to freedom, than the nationalisation of
the 8.45 from Guildford to London Waterloo. Yet Telegraph-reading persons get
far more worked up about state-owned trains than they do about a central state
police, or by state interference between parents and children. Why? Because
they don’t think, that’s why. The left in Britain lost interest in
nationalisation after the 1945-51 government. It did not produce the utopia
that the trades unions had hoped for – there were often severe conflicts
between the unions and the nationalised industries. Meanwhile the Soviet
experiment which had seemed in the days of Yuri Gagarin to have something to
offer, had turned out in the end to be an unproductive mess (though in my
experience the Soviet railways were quite good, and could be a pleasure to
travel on, as were those of several of the Warsaw Pact countries. The old
Czech dining cars were particularly enjoyable, as were the Mitropa restaurant
cars that ran between Hanover and Berlin, but I digress).
The point is that the connection between the left
and nationalisation was a brief marriage of convenience, mainly driven by the
temporary dominance of the unions, which ended long ago. The danger now comes
from a completely different direction, as Roy Jenkins and Tony Crosland made
clear long ago. The problem with British political conservatism is that it is
largely thought-free, never had any ideas of its own and so cannot understand
the ideas or aims of its enemies. That is why, as Al Johnson rightly pointed
out in Birmingham this week, the main function of Tory governments is to clear
up (or try to clear up, it’s like the Augean stables now) the economic
mess made by Labour. Al failed to add that, once they have finished, Labour
then comes back to continue making a mess of the economy. But that’s not
Labour’s main purpose. New Labour’s main purpose is the creation of the
post-Christian society its leaders yearn for. It could end up having
privatised railways, just as long as it had nationalised private life.
People really should learn to distinguish between
propaganda and truth, and to penetrate the disguises in which history advances
itself.
And:
Ben Holmes writes : ‘I really do not see the
benefits of nationalisation for the rail industry. What makes this particular
industry so special that Mr Hitchens would rather have this nationalised, yet
would not accept the nationalisation of major energy industries such as coal?
What makes him so confident that the poor service, lame apologies, closures at
every possible turn, would cease under a government that manages public
services incompetently and at enormous expense? Not to mention that due to the
restricted nature of train travel, it is a far less convenient mode of
transport than cars or even buses, as they only come along at certain times and
you must plan your journey around them. With cars you can come and go as you
please. You are given a greater degree of freedom. I do not believe that the
railways can meet the needs of modern Britain, which requires a greater degree
of precision and speed than trains will allow.’
I don’t know why Mr Holmes thinks I am against
the nationalisation of major energy industries. I think there was a case for
nationalising coal, made in the 1920s and accepted by many people for
non-dogmatic reasons. There are many questions about what form of state
ownership is best; these days most governments have abandoned the
responsibility of ownership, and opted for the power-without-responsibility
system of tight regulation, which has virtually abolished accountability. Is
this better?
I have always believed that the electric power
grid should be nationalised. I think it should be renationalised as a
prelude to an enormous programme of nuclear power station building, without
which we face an appalling energy crisis within 20 years. I
also recall that when British Gas was privatised its national monopoly
structure was maintained, and a good thing too. The Post office’s
problems are largely caused by the EU’s postal directive, which have robbed
Royal Mail (or whatever it is now called) of the premium services which enabled
it to cross-subsidise a cheap, efficient and accessible network of letter
deliveries and sub post offices. The old pre-EU GPO worked very well. It was
nationalised, I think, by that dogmatic Trot, King Charles II.
He asks: ‘What makes him (me) so confident that the poor service, lame apologies, closures at every possible turn, would cease under a government that manages public services incompetently and at enormous expense?’ I answer, in itself, nothing. I don’t imagine a nationalised railways system would be perfect, just significantly better. But privatisation has shown that private ownership does not in any way get rid of these things, which have increased since the sell-off. Thus they are not diseases of nationalisation. In general, the problems of the railways are caused by 80 or so years during which they have been starved of investment, which has been diverted to gigantically subsidised nationalised roads and to air transport, provided with airports and air traffic control by initial state spending, and vastly subsidised by being exempted from fuel tax. The government subsidy which is given to the railways (much of it now diverted into the trousers of the train operating companies) allows them to continue to operate, but not to expand in response to demand (in fact they were forced to contract on the eve of a great expansion of population and transport need, by Richard Beeching’s ill-thought-out cuts), not to electrify the network properly (a task which should have been completed decades ago, and was so completed in comparable European economies).
He asks: ‘What makes him (me) so confident that the poor service, lame apologies, closures at every possible turn, would cease under a government that manages public services incompetently and at enormous expense?’ I answer, in itself, nothing. I don’t imagine a nationalised railways system would be perfect, just significantly better. But privatisation has shown that private ownership does not in any way get rid of these things, which have increased since the sell-off. Thus they are not diseases of nationalisation. In general, the problems of the railways are caused by 80 or so years during which they have been starved of investment, which has been diverted to gigantically subsidised nationalised roads and to air transport, provided with airports and air traffic control by initial state spending, and vastly subsidised by being exempted from fuel tax. The government subsidy which is given to the railways (much of it now diverted into the trousers of the train operating companies) allows them to continue to operate, but not to expand in response to demand (in fact they were forced to contract on the eve of a great expansion of population and transport need, by Richard Beeching’s ill-thought-out cuts), not to electrify the network properly (a task which should have been completed decades ago, and was so completed in comparable European economies).
The railways are always apologising because they
have been starved in this way. Their ancient diesel engines break down. Their
signalling systems are antiquated and unreliable. Their financial structure,
and decades of route contraction, compel them to cram as many passengers as
possible in smasller and smaller trains. Meanwhile nationalised roads are
constantly lavished with funds for expansion, widening and so-called
improvement - despite the known fact that their capacity is severely
limited, and even with all this spending cannot keep pace with the demand it
creates, which tends to do no more than shift bottlenecks about. Railways,
being a far more efficient means of transporting people and especially goods,
would if expanded give far better returns on investment than roads, and be much
better able to keep pace with demand.
The nationalised railways managed to preserve a level
of competence in maintenance and management which seems to have eluded the new
privatised or semi-privatised companies. I suspect (see Ian Jack's work
on this in that fine book ‘The Country Formerly Known as Great Britain’ [a real gem of a book, also reviewed in my next volume]) that
the two things may be connected. They also sustained a native industry of
locomotive carriage and wagon building which is now almost entirely extinct.
They also managed to maintain the track at night and on Sundays, without the
levels of disruption now common. Mr Holmes adds: ‘Not to mention that due to the
restricted nature of train travel, it is a far less convenient mode of
transport than cars or even buses, as they only come along at certain times and
you must plan your journey around them.’ Well, this isn’t a problem for the Burkean
conservative, who can see nothing wrong in a transport system in which people
must apply a small amount of self-discipline in return for more orderly and
peaceful society, which a car-free society certainly would be. Most car
journeys are irrational and unhealthy short-hops which could just as easily be
done on foot or by bicycle. But car-owners, who have been compelled or cajoled
by the Great Car Economy into buying or leasing these expensive
monsters, quickly realise that they spend most of their time depreciating at
the roadside, and feel the need to use them a lot to justify their enormous
cost.
Cars in modern Britain are also fantasy objects; there’s a book to be written on TV and cinema commercials for cars, which
contrive to suggest that the buyer will transform his life in some way if he
owns the machine, or simply portray the car as an object of worship, or idol,
self-evidently desirable. People who like cars, or think they’re normal
artefacts, live in a sort of Clarkson reverie. Have car enthusiasts any idea how odd they seem
to those who are unconvinced by the merits of the motor car? They do seem
to have an unreasoning attachment to these things which even Freud might have
some difficulty explaining. I’ve yet to see a car advertisement that
portrays the car’s use in this country use honestly, i.e., parked in the
rain for most of its life, losing value while being of no use, and cluttering
up a large area of urban space, then stuck in a traffic jam, or series of
traffic jams, and then searching for ages for a parking space close to
one’s destination rather than parking where a space actually is, and walking,
say, half a mile to the destination. During all this time, the owner and his
family are suffering chronic declining health owing to their being spared the
need to take basic exercise, an apparent convenience which will end in
avoidable heart disease, the driver is developing lower back problems, and the
car must be fuelled by oil imported from the most appalling despotisms on
earth. Not to mention what happens if there’s a crash. Which is much, much more
common in cars than in trains.
Mr Holmes says: ‘With cars you can come and go
as you please. You are given a greater degree of freedom. I do not believe that
the railways can meet the needs of modern Britain, which requires a greater
degree of precision and speed than trains will allow.’ Well, the car owner can, up to a point, come and
go as he or she pleases, traffic jams, roadworks and jammed-up car parks
permitting. Though if you design and subsidise a transport system around his
or her needs, you leave out what I believe is the majority of the population
which either does not own a car or cannot drive. This ‘freedom’ is
restricted to the car owner, and deprives the non-owner of the freedom to live
without constant engine and tyre noise, or without constant dirtying of the air
with petrol and diesel fumes, or without constant danger on the roads
from large erratically-driven hunks of steel, glass and rubber which are as
safe or unsafe (for the passenger, the pedestrian or cyclist) as the
driver who happens to be at the wheel at the time, and variable according to
the driver’s temper, mental state, drink and drug tastes, and sleep
patterns. To be modern isn’t necessarily to be more civilised than
old-fashioned Britain was. Modern often means noisy, cheap, bland, throwaway.
Then there’s the problem of goods, which are
pushed on to road by the heavy subsidies paid into maintaining and constantly
extending the nationalised road system by the taxpayer, compared with the
pitifully inadequate subsidies provided for maintaining rail freight
transport, and hardly ever for extending it . As for ‘precision’, the reopening of many closed
railway lines, and German-style rules compelling factories and warehouses
which are close to railway lines to maintain sidings permitting rail freight
access, would make the railways a good deal more precise, just as sensible
restrictions on the use of heavy lorries in populated areas would make
the roads less so. I cannot for the life of me work out what he means by
suggesting that roads allow greater speeds than railways. I should have thought
this was simply untrue.
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