Independence, and the super-rich…

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What ever your views on Scottish Independence, one of the most compelling arguments that I have been grappling with is the one that deals with social justice. Independent Scotland, it is said, will be a more just society, free from the Tory party, controlled as it is by the super rich clustered in the golden South East, and in London in particular. We can go it alone, responsible for our own fate, and become a more compassionate caring place…

In truth the decision most of us make next Thursday has little to do with economic arguments, little to do with whether or not Alex will keep the pound or stay in the EU- for most it is an instinctive feeling around which facts are bent. It is about national passion, deep identity and a sense that after all these years we can thumb our noses at the big oppressive cousins down south. Forget the nuances, we have a set of goggles to simplify all those years of shared history and broken dreams… Raise up the Saltire, conjure up Bannockburn and Bonnie Prince Charlie. Damn the English and may their football team continue to fail.

Because of this, I feel an unreality in the air which deeply troubles many of us. I can not feel the same sense of identity in an idea of nationhood- it is simply not possible given my mongrel origins (English/Irish, living in Scotland.) Therefore the actual arguments often seem entirely hollow. As an outsider to national pride, I fear it’s dark side, and struggle to find much that is positive in it. Relationship to place, to culture, to our deep roots in the soil- I envy this, but this is not what is being conjured up in much of the nationalist debate. Rather it seems to paint a version of Scotland defined AGAINST our nearest neighbours. I hate this kind of in/out thinking. So what in all this might I focus on?

What is left for me is to try to wonder how an independent Scotland changes things not just for the poor in Easterhouse, but also the poor in Bangkok and Birmingham. How does an independent Scotland (whose economic future is dependent on oil production above all else) turn us from our addiction to fossil fuels? How does an independent Scotland break our addiction to consumption or distraction by facile entertainment?

Yes campaigners promise me that it can do all these things.

I hope this might be true- but I fear also that the power wielded by international capital and the dominant ideology of so-called free market capitalism will simply not notice the border. It has hardly been impeded by those put up elsewhere. And this kind of focus on the poor/the environment/change to the way we consume has hardly been the centre of the political debate. Where are the genuinely new ideas? Rather the Yes campaign treads that familiar difficult middle ground- things will be the same, but better.

I fear distraction. Divide and rule. The natural opposition to the forces of capital have been on the back foot for many years in this country. Blair’s government broke our hearts and now in Scotland, hot bed of left wing ideas in the past, we have a splintering of the radicals because of the simplistic polarity of yes/no.

Meanwhile, here are a few interesting facts about we Scots.

Research repeatedly shows that the English, Welsh and Scots have very similar attitudes to most things – welfare, Europe, immigration, liberty versus authority and the rest.

 

The point is different from political divergences. We all know old party allegiances are fracturing for a lot of reasons, but not the kind the yes camp promotes. Put it another way, a Ukip MEP was elected in Scotland this year.

 

Also, as Ferguson puts it, the Daily Mail sells more copies in Scotland than its loftier Scottish rivals.

The issues remain for me though- social justice. Weak people being used as pawns in other peoples power games. Change that might change the window display, whilst in everything else it is business as usual. And the rich will still get richer…

Which bring me back to the point of the piece. I read this article today and found myself seething with anger. Here are some of the main points;

If the national minimum wage had kept pace with FTSE 100 CEO salaries since 1999, it would now be £18.89 per hour instead of £6.50. However, for some reason broadcasters rarely ask CEOs about the gulf between their pay and that of the poorest staff in their organisations. The unstated implication is that the lowest-paid staff are lucky to have any job at all, and only have what they have thanks to the benevolence of the 1%, with their superior leadership skills.

 

If the top 1% actually created more jobs as they became wealthier, then ordinary people would be surrounded by employment opportunities in both the US and the UK. Instead, it is in Germany, where the wealthiest 1% receives in pay and bonuses half as much as their counterparts in the US, that unemployment is at a 20-year low. In countries that keep their top 1% in check, the highest earners work more effectively for the good of all, or at the very least create a little less misery.

 

The article goes on to say what we mostly already know- that the tax regime that allows the rich to get richer contributes to a de-humanisation of poor people, and allows us to ignore them as undeserving, feckless and responsible for their own fate.

The change to this requires some kind of tipping point. Marx used to call it ‘class consciousness’. He thought sooner or later we would see it all for what it was and say ‘enough!’

Can this happen in isolation north of the border?

Or do we just break down the problem into smaller and smaller segments so that the one truly international force in our midst (international capital) can just carry on more or less the same?

There is one thing that gives me some continued hope- here in Scotland, things are changing. People are engaged in something, for good or ill. I just wish I could believe that it is the former…

Either way, after Thursday we have to live together. We have to find ways to solve the problems affecting our nation, our communities, our broken. Perhaps we will no longer be able to blame the English- and this will be a good thing!

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Yorkshire sculpture park…

william does sculpture

We pulled off the M1 to spend some time at the wonderful Yorkshire Sculpture Park on our way back up north recently. If you get the chance to go- take it. Even if you do not ‘get’ big blocks of stone/bronze with cheese holes. There will be plenty more that will intrigue you…

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I am addicted to words as my primary means of creative expression. Sure, I like to shape things from wood, but these efforts are not ‘art’. If anything they are therapy, with the wood shaping me as much as the other way round. The  language of sculpture is one that intrigues me, but mostly excludes me. All the more reason to take some time in the midst of the sculpture park. We did not have enough time really- you need days, and we only had a couple of hours. We will return!

ai wei wei iron tree

The Chinese dissident artist (are all artists not dissidents?) Ai Weiwei was given a space in and around the old estate chapel. His pieces included a room full of chairs and a giant tree cast in iron and loosely bolted together. They told a powerful story, even to a philistine like me, of a culture whose emphasis on the collective to the exclusion of individualism might have become a terrible heresy. The great famines and purges in which hundreds of millions of Chinese people have died or been imprisoned hangs over the art like a cloud.

Some photos;

Greenbelt here we come…

We are off to Greenbelt Festival again this year…

Looking forward to seeing old friends, and immersing myself in some new ideas and new music. I have been too busy to decide exactly what new ideas/music, and will probably default to my usual method of wandering around and seeing what I encounter.

Oh, and I will be doing some of this;

Proost began as a vehicle to make more widely available materials being developed by creative people whose work would otherwise go unnoticed. It has developed into a kind of collaboration between all sorts of artists, writers, poets, film makers and musicians.

Proost has been searching for a different kind of Christian poetry that does not shrink from pain, from ugliness, from doubt. Poetry that questions, holds us account for our actions and is skewed towards the weak and broken. Poetry that is shaped from love. Out of this search came a collection of new poems, some of which will be heard for the first time at Greenbelt 2014.

Among the Proost Poets is Harry Baker who has collaborated together with musician Chris Read on a new collection, But In Silence, of contemplative poems/chants/prayers backed by some members of Emily and The Woods.

 

 

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Vicky Beeching comes out…

At first, I thought “So what?” It is no big deal any more surely?

Then I thought, it IS still a big deal for some- and it certainly must be for her, whose courage I salute.

I hope that people on all sides of this question will listen to what she has to say and hope for the very best for her. I hope to that some more people will be set free to live life in all it’s fullness.

I cried when she spoke her last sentence “God loves you exactly the way you are.” I cried because most of the people who say that do not mean everybody, and certainly not Gay people…

Taking kids into the wilderness…

cross, MacCormaig isles, eilean mor

We are just back from a trip out to the MacCormaig Islands with a group of friends along with their kids. The idea for the trip arose from discussions about taking young people out to experience wild places, away from electricity, screens, amenities.

The island we chose was one that offered some protection from the elements (and as it happens, the midges) as it had a well maintained bothy. It is also a little less wild than some- having generally less severe terrain. It is not without interest though- having an ancient chapel, a hermits cave and a beautiful cove ideal for swimming. We were accompanied by a pair of otters, seals and countless sea birds.

It worked. All out kids, ranging in age from 6 to 14 seemed captivated by the place, despite the challenges of weather, wet boots and of course the midges.

I will reflect on this some more in the future, but for now, here are some photos;

 

Leave the phone behind…

12th C chapel and broken cross

Will and I are off on a lads trip. I have been so busy over the last weeks that it feels like such a desperate need to get away from things for a while.

We are going to play cricket away down in Carradale, near Campbeltown, on Sunday, weather permitting. We are then camping out somewhere before meeting a group of friends of mixed ages and heading off by boat to a deserted island for two nights.

This is a bit of an experiment really- in taking our kids out into the wilderness, away for the possibility of any kind of screen based infotainment. To be fair, Will is really looking forward to it, but it is likely to be a shock to some. The island we are going to is the same one on which we have led ‘wilderness retreats’- this one in fact.

I saw this today and it seemed apt;

The Church, red in (male) tooth and claw…

I read this book recently;

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It tells the story of Helen Percy, a Church of Scotland Minister and survivor of childhood sexual abuse, who was raped by an elder of her Church, before being ripped apart by a combination of the patriarchal Church archaic infrastructure and the national press.

Helen Percy writes beautifully, but I was left feeling that she is a soul still caught in the harsh headlights of trauma and I long for her to come home, wherever that home might be. Sadly it is unlikely to be the Church.

Read it if you want to understand something more of the life long effects of abuse in childhood. Read it too if you want to see the male institution of Church through the eyes of a young woman who found no mercy, just hard inflexible self serving judgementalism masquerading as justice.

It will break your heart.

Cover of new book…

Regular readers will know that I have been working on and off for most of this year to pull together a collection of new poetry. It has been a labour of love, but boy it has also been a labour. Hours and hours of reading, editing, formatting, communicating. In fact, I need to apologise to many of the poets as the communicating bit has not always been my strong point.

Anyway, the book is almost there- I received a copy of the cover today- designed by the wonderful Jon Birch (whom many of you will know from his Asbo Jesus cartoons and all sorts of other creativity).

Here it is;

 

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