Canada's elite comes from the same schools and holds the same jobs.
Britain’s new elite doesn’t live in the real world
They are observers, not doers – and think practical constraints on policy can be overcome by hectoring
DAVID FROST6 April 2023 • 8:00pm
University professor
Matt Goodwin has been annoying our intellectuals. His latest book
Values, Voice and Virtue argues that British politics has been shaped by a “new elite” that is progressive, pro-migration, obsessed with diversity and out of touch with the values of much of Britain. The reaction against that, he says, is what has driven the Brexit revolt and the growth of populism.
He’s obviously right about that, but it hasn’t stopped that new elite huffily shuffling off on Twitter any responsibility for the state of the nation, pointing out that it’s the Conservative Government, not they, who are in power. That’s obviously right, too. But anyone can still see that our politics is heavily influenced by this new elite. One way, as Goodwin points out, is through
their woke values. I want to point out another.
Two elements are crucial in it. First, precisely because they aren’t in government, this new class isn’t used to taking responsibility. They are observers, not doers. They believe that they can control complex human activity through laws and hectoring. Second, they have non-physical jobs. They are commentators, university lecturers, lawyers and judges, and similar. If they run businesses, they are in finance or the new economy, not in building or making things.
So: they don’t govern, and they don’t make things. They just talk. As a consequence they have become disconnected from the challenges of actually making things happen: from the real world where major projects can’t just be done overnight, and where resources, time and people matter.
Take one example. We are often told that, to solve the so-called “climate crisis”, we must insulate every building in Britain. Yet the advocates of this policy seem to have no sense of the scale of the task. Former Cambridge professor Michael Kelly has pointed out that, over 30 years, it would cost about £3.5 trillion (150 per cent of GDP) and require an extra half a million workers (who can’t be imported, as we must assume other countries are doing the same thing – or if they are not, then there is no point in us doing so either). It is an irrational, fantasy policy – but it won’t stop them advocating it.
Take another example. Of course we want cleaner rivers. But as Thérèse Coffey has rightly pointed out this week, we are dealing with a Victorian sewage system. Upgrading it
costs billions. It can’t be done overnight.
We want to encourage cycling? Just disrupt Britain’s roads for decades by building cycle lanes at huge expense. Better transport? Let’s build a new tram system or extend the Bakerloo Line, instead of extra buses or making driving easier. Drawing lines on maps is easy, but making them real is time-consuming and expensive.
I think this explains the impact of
Jeremy Clarkson’s programme on farming. Many seem surprised there are still jobs where certain things have to happen at a particular time and where it matters if it rains – where physical reality counts. But this isn’t true only of farming, it’s true of the whole economy.
Why does this disconnect from responsibility and physical reality matter? Because when our elites ask why the Government won’t pursue their favoured plans, they won’t accept the answer is “because it’s complicated, time-consuming, expensive, and less important than other things”. Instead they say it’s “because the Conservative Government is made up of bad people, who could do these things, but won’t”. This touch of
Extinction Rebellion in our new elites is one reason for the coarsening of our political debate.
The truth is that our modern world really is miraculous. Out of nothing, we have created a globally networked economy and mastered our environment with physical artefacts of massive complexity. This has been driven by the free market – the economic system that uses resources most efficiently, is always trying to find new solutions, and can build complex outputs through decentralised knowledge. (Just think, for example, that no single person knows how to make a pencil or a toaster, let alone an aircraft carrier or a skyscraper.)
Our intellectuals don’t seem to understand this. They think that the economy “just works” and that if you want something it will just happen. They don’t understand
opportunity cost – that if you do one thing, you can’t do another thing with the same resources. They think that we can install unreliable wind power because somebody will invent viable battery storage. They want electric cars and dismiss the challenge of tripling our grid capacity. They want water on demand without building reservoirs, goods in shops without road transport in cities, homes for all without building houses. The fragility, the complexity, the efficiency of it all escapes them.
George Orwell wrote in 1942: “The ruling power is always faced with the question, ‘In such and such circumstances, what would you do?’, whereas the opposition is not obliged to take responsibility or make any real decisions. Where it is a permanent and pensioned opposition, as in England, the quality of its thought deteriorates accordingly.” That’s what happens when your elite doesn’t live in the real world – and that’s what we see in Britain today.