Review
Culture
Economics
Politics
10 min read

The book Keir Starmer says you must read

Will Hutton’s This Time No Mistakes surveys the thinking that could solve Britain’s ills.

John Milbank is a theologian, philosopher and poet. A co-founder of the Radical Orthodoxy movement, he is an Emeritus Professor of the University of Nottingham.

Kier Starmer sits on a sofa, leaning forward and holding papers he is reading. Rachel Reaves sits and looks on.
Starmer and Reeves.
Labour Party

In the aftermath of a historic election, one could do worse than read Will Hutton’s second big ‘state of the nation book’, recently published. This Time No Mistakes is worth reading just for the succinctness and clarity of its politic-economic history of the United Kingdom since the industrial revolution, which it provides in its central chapters. Indeed, Keir Starmer says it is a ‘brilliant book... read it if you haven't already It may well take a sophisticated journalist to be able to do this so well: too often, even the best of academics cannot see the public wood for their private-obsessional trees.  

But it is doubly and mainly worth reading for Hutton’s prognosis of our ills and his recommendations for solving them. The new Labour government could do far worse than try to carry through Hutton’s proposals, which almost anyone of common sense and goodwill (including all Tories) ought readily to endorse. Indeed, if the next government managed to initiate even a half of what he suggests, this country could be placed back upon the right tracks.  

As to the history, which is crucial to the ultimate diagnosis: Hutton contends quite simply that Britain has been self-deceived by the peculiar nature of its industrial revolution, which was the first in history. It was largely a matter of private enterprise, partly enabled and later cushioned by empire, whose possession encouraged us to support an unqualified doctrine of free trade.  

However, all other nations, including the United States, both when they sought to catch up with the steam and rail revolution, and when they later co-pioneered the ones based on gas and electricity, and ultimately on nuclear and digital, from the outset depended much more upon state intervention to promote needed expertise, education and investment. The United Kingdom, by contrast, remained captivated by the mythical glory of its initial take-off.  

As a result, not just Conservative governments, but also Labour ones, right up to the New Labour one, and including the catastrophically misguided work of Margaret Thatcher (Hutton is admirably unqualified here) remained far too captivated by the norms of economic laissez-faire, ‘balancing the books’, a primacy of finance over production and obsessive Treasury concern with money, rather than productive wealth.  

The exceptions to this were the pre-World War one Liberal government and the post World War Two Labour one. Yet all the strong ideas implemented by the latter came from ‘New Liberal’ thinkers and not Labour ones: notably from Keynes and Beveridge. Labour on its own, by comparison, has tragically and disastrously oscillated between a desire to replace capitalism with some sort of command economy on the one hand, and simply leaving capitalism as it is, with a bit of welfare tinkering, on the other. More recently this has been seen in the contrast between Corbyn and Blair. 

It is at this juncture that Hutton proceeds to complement his political-economic diagnosis with a more purely political one. The split on the ‘progressive left’ is a catastrophe that has kept the Tories unfairly in power for much of a century. This split is both caused by and has prevented any reform of the first past the post voting system, which urgently needs to go.  

For this reason then, political economy and constitutional reform go together.  

As to the latter, we need proportional representation which would allow more reasoned debate instead of the inter-party squabble, alongside legally guaranteed local government and a different kind of informed, rather than overweening executive.  

As to the former, we need flexible planning, public-private partnership in investment, a national wealth fund, sectional trade union bargaining, the breaking up of cartels and monopolies and required social purpose and stakeholding, for every business and financial enterprise. 

One is tempted just to say hurray! But there are some historical and theoretical questions to be posed that may have hidden practical consequences.  

Better than trying to ‘balance’ the private and the collective, as if the self and society were in rivalry, is to take the more Continental (and early Blairite!) course of stressing that we are always ‘persons in relation’.

Hutton now backs Tawney besides Keynes. But do they say the same thing? For the latter, capitalism is a wild, amoral and dynamic beast that can nonetheless be politically tamed. In certain phases of the capitalist cycle only (as Hutton rightly sees) this will be about boosting demand, but in others it can mean lessening it and temporarily hurting workers.  

But Tawney, and Hutton clearly agrees with him, wanted a market economy permitting only useful and not merely acquisitive wealth. Given this ethical purpose it was for him possible for the market, aa a socialist market, to reach equilibrium, beyond extrinsic and always precarious state ‘management’.  

Just how precarious was seen in the 1970s. For Hutton, the lapse of Keynesianism in this decade was simply a matter of the triumph of the wrong ideas. To a large degree this is surely right, and yet it is not the whole story. Were it the latter, then neoliberalism might not have spread beyond Anglo-Saxon lands to Europe and South America.  

The other aspect is surely the reality that capitalism of its nature, as driven by the amoral search for profit, resists any prospect of a stable, social market. Achieving that and extending the corporatist order of negotiation between state, business and unions would have been the alternative way, instead of Hayekianism, to deal with ‘stagflation’. Rather than a competition between capital, labour and consumer for money that wasn’t there at the time, a fair division of spoils could have been consistently instituted by legally and culturally re-framing the firm and the market, something that would have immediately favoured a renewed degree of growth.  

Really, almost everything that Hutton writes indicates agreement with this sort of thing, including the recognition that of itself, capitalism is not actually dynamic (that comes from technology and culture) but tends to build up sterile finance in the interests of the few, rather than productive growth in the interests of the many. But in that case ‘ethical socialism’ is not just a set of ideals, as he tends to imply, but a mode of achievable practice.  

Similarly, a general mutualist national insurance approach to welfare, which he rightly favours, was not just a New Liberal advocacy as he claims, but deeply rooted in co-operative socialism and in Christian (especially Anglican) social thinking whose influence -- except silently in the case of Tawney -- goes unmentioned. Yet the very phrase ‘welfare state’ is Archbishop William Temple’s and Tawney’s social analysis, intended for the general public, concluded with an unabashed High Church ecclesiology! 

It is relevant here that Hutton speaks of the need to combine the ‘I’ with the ‘We’ and yet he clearly does not endorse just any old exercise of ‘individual agency’, even if he sometimes appears to do so, when defining the operation of the price mechanism as necessarily ‘wild’, after Adam Smith’s exclusion of commercial transactions from the immediate operation of social sympathy. Better than trying to ‘balance’ the private and the collective, as if the self and society were in rivalry, is to take the more Continental (and early Blairite!) course of stressing that we are always ‘persons in relation’ – at once within and outside each other, in a constant creative weave.  

Nothing could be further from Keynes’ despising of the proletariat and favouring of learned leisure, that John Ruskin’s revolutionary mystique of the artisanal. 

There are two deeper questions about Hutton’s approach. First, his excessive ‘idealism’, as with his analysis of the Seventies switch, may still underrate the difficulty of overcoming the power of entrenched interests – the need indeed not so much for class, as for popular warfare against plutocracy.  

Secondly, he tends to underplay a theoretical tension between secular and materialist thinkers, including New Liberals, on the one hand, and religious and Idealist thinkers like the first ‘New Liberal’, T.H Green on the other.  

The latter was much more like Alasdair Macintyre or Michael Sandel than like John Rawls, as Hutton claims: for by human ‘self-realisation’ he meant the ‘positive liberty’ of pursuing the objectively true ends of human flourishing: religious contemplation, artistic creation of genuine beauty, active citizen participation.  

By contrast, the secular New Liberals, including Keynes, tended to reduce the ethical good to the negative liberty of rights, private friendship and utility – often leading them to favour eugenics and to indulge in racism. Nothing could be further from Keynes’ despising of the proletariat and favouring of learned leisure, that John Ruskin’s revolutionary mystique of the artisanal.  

Hutton tends to express surprise that a Tory like Ruskin, or a reactionary like Carlyle, should have favoured the cause of the worker – and indeed in Ruskin’s case also espoused ‘communism’, as Hutton elides from the picture. But this is to fail to see how Tory Radicalism and even paternalism is actually a third strand in the kind of transformative thinking that we continue to need, was always a crucial influence on Labour and was a crucial element of the postwar settlement.  

If these thinkers indeed favoured ‘hierarchy’, then that was in part because they wanted more interpersonal and mediated chains of command, rather than brutally centralised and mechanical ones. Surely Hutton wants that also, as his excellent reservations about the use of Artificial Intelligence would indicate? 

There is a recognition that economic individualism usually ‘on the right’ is actually matched and encouraged by a cultural individualism usually ‘on the left’. 

This is perhaps the limit of talking in terms of ‘progressive’ versus ‘conservative’. Hutton harks back to the norms of the Enlightenment. Yet, as Richard Whatmore has shown, all the great British enlightenment thinkers came to think that pure enlightenment was failing.  

They saw its anti-religious fanaticism stance as challenged by the rise of new secular, nationalist and direct democratic fanaticisms, as supremely with the French Revolution. By ‘populism’, as we might now say! 

But they also already recognised that the breakdown of a rational peace had been encouraged by excessive consumer greed and by the over-implication of commerce in state borrowing (whose pre-enabling of industry in Britain, Hutton does not mention) and so also in war and empire.  

It was exactly in this context that the enlightenment thinker Edmund Burke began to consider the virtues of the longer-term embedding of enlightenment in Christianity and the importance of the medieval ‘gothic’ legacy of a corporate order binding social body to social body, rather than individual to individual via contract, mediated by the market and backed up by the state.  

In Burke’s wake, for example with the radical William Cobbett, much of the Nineteenth Century critique of economism, to which Hutton is the heir, was of a ‘Romantic’ and often ‘neo-medieval’ rather than purely enlightenment cast. (Hutton at times wrongly reads medieval ‘feudalism’ as ‘absolutist’ – a specifically early modern phenomenon.) This matters, because this tradition contains a stronger recognition that the centralising state (which the Enlightenment favoured as a substitute for the Church) can be just as alienating and anti-social as the uprooting market – even if, as Karl Polanyi later saw, one needs the power of the state today in order to restore the primacy of the social and of inter-human fellowship.  

Within the same current, there is a recognition that economic individualism usually ‘on the right’ is actually matched and encouraged by a cultural individualism usually ‘on the left’. And here Hutton is perhaps inconsistent – he definitely sees this, mentioning the dubious overriding of the universal by identitarian concerns,  and yet also recognises it somewhat uneasily, as it challenges certain ‘progressivist’ assumptions. 

 As a result, he rather disallows the validity of some populist concerns – ironically rather like the incomprehension of the older enlightenment in the face of the new revolutionary era. For example, concerns with the normative primacy of the heterosexual family and the enabling of family and children, with regional and national identity, with the academic ‘woke’ trashing of the entire Western legacy, with the exploitation and cultural disruption of excessive immigration, with ecological policies that simply override current human needs while doing little to assist the future of nature.  

The danger of these partial blind spots could be a continued failure of the roughly ‘communitarian’ Left, or the sensible Right, to win over the mass of the people to their cause. For they must be won over if not just the United Kingdom, but humanity as a whole, is to have a decent future.  

Towards building that future, no one has contributed more, or more valiantly, than Will Hutton.  

  

 

Article
Culture
Economics
Generosity
5 min read

Be generous: pass on values and vision, not just wealth

Millennials may not earn more—but they could steward more wisely
An illustration of a family around a table looking at graph on a laptop.
Nick Jones/Midjourney.ai.

For the first time in modern history, this present generation of 28 to 43-year-olds will not achieve a higher standard of living than their parents. This is due to factors including wage stagnation, exorbitant house prices, equally exorbitant student debt, and an unstable job market.  

Paradoxically, this same generation stands to inherit the greatest amount of wealth in history. The Financial Times estimates this to be about £8.3 trillion in the U.S., £2.7 trillion in Europe, and £2.2 trillion in Asia.  

For Christian families fortunate enough to find themselves in this situation, it’s important to consider that passing on wealth is not just a financial issue, it’s a discipleship issue. And before we delve in, I want to acknowledge that not every reader will fit the traditional family model. You might be single, part of a blended family, estranged from children, or mentoring younger people instead of raising them. The principles here still apply - ‘next generation’ simply means those you influence.  

Talk about it 

One of my soap boxes is to encourage people, especially Christians, in the UK to talk more about money and giving. This becomes especially important within families who steward a lot of wealth. If parents don’t speak to their children about their wealth – what they’re doing with it and why – they run the risk of their children 

  • feeling overwhelmed by the responsibility and potentially making poor choices,  

  • not understanding or valuing their parents' heart for good stewardship and potentially squandering the wealth, 

  • doing things their own way and potentially dishonouring their parents’ wishes, or 

  • feeling resentful that they did not inherit as much as they thought they would. 

Being intentional and speaking openly as a family about your wealth will give you as parents a chance to inculcate your children with conviction about and purpose for what God has blessed you, and them, with. And it will give your children the opportunity to share their own heart and views on how to use wealth for good, as these may differ from yours.  

There is a plethora of information out there, and plenty of professional advisors who would love to be called upon to manage your wealth transfer, but, if you are a person of Christian faith, let us challenge ourselves to look to Scripture as a first point of departure.  

David and Solomon  

King David looms large as a character in the Old Testament. One of his ambitions was to build a temple for the Lord in Jerusalem. But God explicitly told him that he didn’t want David to do the building; instead, this project was to be passed on to his son, Solomon. We know that David was a very wealthy man, and that the temple building project would require vast amounts of resources, and thus, perhaps we can consider this instance as one of the great wealth transfers of ancient times. 

There are many takeaways from this story, but here are a few that stand out to me.  

David’s desire to build a temple for the Lord comes after he’s built an extravagant palace for himself. This invites a question: how many of us might come to the end of our working lives and realise we’ve had similar priorities?  

While we don’t have a way of knowing how much Solomon’s own ideas were welcomed in the planning and preparation, I think we can assume that David spent a lot of time imparting his vision and motivation to Solomon. There’s no way this kind of philanthropic project could’ve been executed otherwise.  

While this transfer started well, it didn’t end well. Solomon went on to accumulate even more wealth than his father and ended his life in a downward spiral of excess and deception. I’m not saying there is a direct correlation between inheriting wealth and getting caught in a downward spiral, but there are many temptations and pitfalls to contend with. 

There’s something to be said for timing. While one of the scripture passages that relate this story makes it sound like the handover went smoothly, another paints a very different picture. In it we see an elderly king clinging to his position and refusing to pass his mantle to Solomon until a coup by another son forces his hand.  

What can we learn from this?  

If we want our children to use their inherited wealth wisely and generously, it’s vital that they witness their parents modelling the right priorities. If I’ve pursued the accumulation of wealth more than I’ve pursued generously sharing my resources, my children are more likely to do the same. 

If we intend to pass our legacy on to our children, we must involve them in the conversation early on. And we must be careful to allow room for their own ideas lest they grow disillusioned and disengage.  

We cannot control what our children do with the wealth we give them; we can only do our best to model the right attitude before God when it comes to our resources. The best way to do this is to teach our children that everything we have comes from God and is to be used for his purposes, not for our own material excess.  

Know when to pass on the mantle. If we hang on too long, we risk opening the door to unnecessary division and conflict within our family. It’s also worth considering transferring wealth earlier rather than later in order to be philanthropically active as a family. As in a relay race, the person being passed the baton must for a time be running at the same speed as his or her predecessor.  

The great generational transfer  

When the time comes to hand over our resources and our legacy to the next generation, there are many things to consider. We’re not just handing over our money; we’re handing over all of what we’ve learned and experienced in our walk with God. I would argue that this spiritual transfer is even more significant than any other kind. For that, we have many biblical examples we can turn to: Moses and Joshua, Elijah and Elisha, Paul and Timothy, and of course, Jesus and his Church.  

Jesus told his disciples to go and make disciples of all nations, akin to what God said to Adam and Eve way back in the beginning: Be fruitful, fill the earth and exercise good stewardship over it. Our mission has always been to steward the earth, see it flourish, and point people to a relationship with God. To do this, God has put resources into our hands to be stewarded well and faithfully passed on to the next generation. It’s imperative that we do this well if our message is to be taken seriously.  

What would it look like for your family, or the next generation you influence, to steward both resources and faith together?  

 

Stewardship UK sponsors series 8 of the Re-Enchanting podcast. Find out more.