THE FARCE OF FAIRNESS

Ted Honderich
These reflections on the British coalition government's policies, presented as only
a response to the economic situation and in particular the rise in the national debt,
also appear on the website of Britain's New Statesman and on the American
website CounterPunch. At the end of the New Statesman version, there are 90 or so
comments on it. Some, those at the top of the list, may be a revelation to you if you
have not kept up with the phenomenon of blogging. They illustrate the fact that the
web is not only the greatest encyclopedia in history.

What is fair in a society?

John Stuart Mill, proud of his logic, gave liberalism's 1859 answer, maybe the
answer of Britain's Liberal Democrats today. He gave it in his principle of state
intervention in his essay On Liberty. The principle was that the state is to intervene in
the lives of citizens not to help them, but only to prevent them from causing harm to
one another. Then Mill didn't say what harm is, say whether bankers can do it. Nor did
he say in his essay Utilitarianism, where vagueness about unhappiness and happiness
went with an obscure paean to individualism. The vagueness and obscurity helped
conceal the fact evident in clearer utilitarianisms, such as Jeremy Bentham's, that they
justify having a slave class in a society if that does in fact produce the greatest total of
happiness or satisfaction for the society.

John Rawls of Harvard gave us liberalism's 1972 answer to the question of what is
fair in a society. What is fair is what is in accordance with the social contract we
would make if we didn't know where we would were going to turn out to be
personally in a society to come -- and if we believed what are deceptively called
general facts, say about the benefits of what is called liberty in a society. We, with
those all-American beliefs, so innocent and so manufactured, would choose a society
where a kind of liberty trumps any equality. That liberty makes of little worth the
recommendation of a vaunted principle of equality to the effect that inequalities are all
right so long as they can be pretended to be in the interest of the badly off. All of
which stuff is oblivious of the truth that fundamental liberty is one thing with equality,
oblivious of the illustrative fact that if you and I are in conflict, and unequal in that I
have a gun, your liberty reduces to zero.

Liberalism, you can therefore kindly think, as I myself maybe still do, is
indeterminate and irresolute. It is at best decent moral impulses, a little conscience, at
odds with self-concern, the latter being visibly to the fore in a pinch, say the forming
of a coalition government, and less visibly before then. Maybe that is too tolerant a
view of liberalism, too kind. It looks that way in England just now.

What is the tradition of conservatism's answer to the question of what is fair in a

society? Its answers abound. Resisting change, being for so-called reforms, being
against mere theory, respecting human nature, being for self-serving freedoms, less
democratic government, the organic society, being against equality -- and for the
pretence of indubitable economics, wholly spurious necessities.

None of those ideas and no bundle of them, examined in itself or considered in

terms of the history of conservatism, is in sight of being an articulable and consistent
candidate for a general principle of fairness. No book on conservatism since Edmund
Burke's Reflections on the Revolution in France comes near to doing anything to
improve on the vacuity which Burke fills only with social condescension to barbers
and with pomp in support of his 'natural aristocracy'.

No Conservative thinking, to take a step against the cant of this moment, and to
name the actual subject in hand, has offered a general principle of what is right in
society that is worth attention. There are only pieces of public relations. Mill's verdict
on conservatism as the stupid party or perhaps the stupidest party was not merely
abuse but comprehensible.

Conservatism, to come to my own view of it, is not overwhelmingly more self-

interested than any other political tradition. Conservatism, as one or two Americans
have admitted, is unique in something else. It is the political tradition that has no
general principle at all to defend its self-interest. It therefore has nothing to save it
from self-interest and in particular from the self-deception in which it lives and
breathes.

But there is an answer to the question of what is fair in a society. An answer exists.
You believe it, I think. It is a kind of common decency. You can suppose it has been
the principle of the Left in politics when the Left has not been confused or worse.

It is that we should take all rational means to a certain end -- means that actually
serve the end and will not be self-defeating. The end is the clearly definable one of
getting and keeping people out of bad lives. Those are lives of deprivation with
respect to the great human goods, the great desires of human nature. They are, in my
list, longer lives, bodily well-being, freedom and power, respect and self-respect,
relationships, and the goods of culture. There is none of the tripe of metaphor here.
Nothing of the spuriousness and smell of David Cameron's 'big society'. Note too that
the aim is not equality but good lives, whatever goes with them.
 This fairness, which can have the name of being the Principle of Humanity, is more
arguable than anything else going. It is in operation whenever our lower or vicious
selves are not in an ascendancy. It is what we have most confident recourse to in
defending our own self-interest in our own lives. It flows from our great desires and
the basic rationality of our natures that is our having reasons, these necessarily being
general.

The principle's commitment to means-end rationality with respect to its end issues
in, among other things, an abhorrence of the revolution and terrorism whose
irrationality is not reduced by taking into account that that irrationality is owed mainly
to the anticipation of culpable resistance to the revolution or terror. If the principle's
various possible consequences, what follows from it in terms of policy and action, are
more difficult to judge than the moral greatness of the principle itself, they are entirely
clearer than whatever passes for a summation of the mere ideologies of liberalism and
conservatism.

Think now of the conservative and liberal coalition government which governs
Britain now. It happens to be a three-part coalition, made up of conservatism,
liberalism, and the petty careerism and the level of moral intelligence that has since
1979 or 1997 has defined our entire political class, certainly its membership in the
New Labour Party. Perhaps Mr Miliband will lead our politics back towards a clarity
and decency, by way of the Labour Party as distinct from the New Labour Party.
Perhaps he can do something with our merely hierarchic democracy.

The coalition government is true to its inherited natures, the natures of liberalism
and conservativism. To these it adds the spirits of dim and pushy boys and of an
economist, an economist from Shell still holding up his head, all led by a public
relations man. The coalition says and says again and again that it is fair. Its policies
are fair, fair, fair. Repetition is truth.

It is in fact already committed to, and will produce despite tactical qualifications
anticipated from the beginning, one thing. It will produce a farce of fairness.

The inanity of thinking or hoping that what is in prospect is not a farce of fairness,
of contemplating that possibility for half a minute, should not survive the reading any
day of what has a right to the name of being a newspaper of intelligence, one of the
two or three in England. What you have from The Guardian today is a confirmation of
any clear thinking on the traditions of conservatism and liberalism.

We hear, in this time of economic emergency, of still increasing executive pay.

Some boss of something called Reckitt-Benckiser, 'a global force in household, health
and personal care', notably air-fresheners and hair-removers, is now paid £92,596,160
a year.

There is more information in the newspaper on the victimized end of English

society too -- of the 'social cleansing' of London by reducing the welfare benefits of
the poor and disabled, excused by way of vicious redescriptions of them and mindless
comparisons with others.

The Principle of Humanity calls right now for the most effective forms of speech
and argument against this farce of fairness. That question of effective expression, a
question for me and for you, is not easy. It arises, of course, well before there is any
question of incitement. What is rational with respect to the place and use of feeling in
speech and argument, of condemnation, against what is vile from the point of view of
the Principle of Humanity, vile from the point of view of a humanity? Other things are
clearer.

It is clearer that the Principle of Humanity now calls for strikes. It calls for strikes
in defence of homes. It calls for strikes in defence of schools and universities. It calls
for strikes in defence of local government. It calls, even, for strikes in defence of what
institution of justice we have. It calls, no doubt, for a general strike.

It calls too for a political economics worth the name. That would tell us what is
certainly possible, the extent to which the political power and influence of the top
decile of population in terms of wealth and income is more than a thousand times that
of the bottom decile. This economics, too, so far from the economics of Shell, would
bring public and private income, public and private expenditure, public and private
waste, into sharp definition and comparison. It would also measure who benefits from
all the institutions of society, say the institution of justice for a start. What deciles, for
a start. The Principle of Humanity calls too, as importantly, for civil disobedience,
and mass civil disobedience.

It calls in particular for gestures of civil disobedience, of course non-violent and

including what Rawls was keen on, acceptance of the penalty for the disobedience.
Maybe a gesture in Parliament Square now by a British army colonel who remembers
the holy words of a predecessor, Colonel Rainborough, in the English Civil War.
'Really I think that the poorest he that is in England hath a life to live as the greatest
he.' Our colonel could park his tank there in the Parliament Square for a while, until
the television cameras turn up, before going back to barracks to accept the penalty for
his civil and other disobedience.