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5 min read

Can the economy work for the common good?

Adrian Pabst on the economic framework that is universal yet particular about people.
A man talks animatedly looking at the camera while sitting against a wood panelled wall.
Fondazione Centesimus Annus Pro Pontefice.

Adrian Pabst is Professor of Politics at the University of Kent, and deputy director at The National Institute of Economic and Social Research. His lecture on Just Economy? Catholic Social Thought, Mutualism and Roads Not Yet Taken, was a highlight of the Lincoln Lectures series, organised by Together for the Common Good. Financial markets journalist Laurence Fletcher talks with him to discover more about his thinking.

 

There is no shortage of commentators ready to point out the apparent deficiencies in the UK’s economy. Widespread in-work poverty, poor productivity growth, regional inequality and a perceived reluctance among employers to train up British workers are just some of the accusations that can be levelled. 

But finding realistic, workable solutions is more difficult, as successive governments have found. Is the answer to be found in having higher levels of tax and government spending, or lower? Should governments be intervening more, or give more room for free markets to work? With a general election on the horizon, and with issues of economic growth, government spending and taxation likely to feature prominently, such questions are particularly pertinent. 

Offering one alternative way of tackling the problem is Professor Adrian Pabst, a political scientist at the University of Kent, who is an expert on so-called Catholic Social Thought. This approach, which was developed in the 19th century and draws from the Bible, focuses on the dignity of the individual, care for others and the common good, with the aims of social renewal. It provides a framework for thinking about big topics such as international relations, the economy and the environment, and Pabst believes it has much to say about our economy today. 

Catholic Social Thought “is very particular. It always speaks to the moment. And it’s highly universal because of it,” he said in a recent interview. “This is what the world is like and this is how we must act.” 

Pabst rejects both the idea that everything is fine with our economy (“mythical stories about things working”) and the belief that “everything going to hell in a handcart”. 

Instead, his approach is to look at some of the apparent contradictions in our economy - strengths alongside related weaknesses. For instance, how can a country be rich but have poor citizens, or have a very high output of goods and services while many people do not partake in them? Or how can many people have become worse off in recent years, even though wages are growing? Or how can the UK boast an “incredible” City of London that is one of the world’s top financial centres, yet have people without access to capital? 

“We have to be realistic about where we are - a low wage, low growth, low productivity economy. We can pay people higher wages over time if we increase productivity. That comes from investment,” he said. 

Free markets have at times been heralded as either the answer to all our problems by some on the political right, or the cause of so much misery by some on the left. But Pabst’s approach is more nuanced. Markets should not simply be “the engine for ever-greater inequality”. But, crucially, they are not inherently bad in and of themselves, and often the problem is instead down to a market being stacked in one side’s favour.  

“Markets are not one thing,” he said. “They are an outcome of ownership, regulation… There is not a problem with markets per se, but it’s the wrong regulation, ownership concentrated in a very few people. 

“There are lots of things we can do much better. But if we replace the market with the state, we’d just be doing [communism] and ultimately we’d be poorer,” he added. “The question is, are we putting society first?”  

(As an aside, he also takes a more nuanced view on former Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher, who he believes brought both positives and negatives). 

Big tech firms are “oligarchies accountable to no-one. It’s simply not a tenable position. They’re like media companies yet they’re not subject to media laws… We’ve allowed them to build private infrastructures. It needs to be tackled.”

So what would Pabst actually change? 

For starters, he believes that too much capital is directed towards the wrong purpose, namely financial speculation. While some would argue that speculation plays an important role in the economy, for instance in price discovery in markets or in taking the other side of the trade, say for farmers who want to hedge crop prices, Pabst is keen to see the economy produce “goods and services that have real worth”. Significantly for how society is structured today, he argues that we do not need “a class that lives off assets at the expense of everyone else”. 

Other areas also need to change, he believes. Loopholes should be closed to make it harder for companies to use agency workers rather than employing people. Trade unions need to be encouraged and improved. A national investment bank, grouping together the existing, disparate pots of money, could direct capital to sectors and regions where it is needed. As is already the case in Germany, companies and society would both benefit from having employees on their boards. 

More economic decisions can be devolved from national government to a local level, but challenges such as climate change or regulating the big, powerful technology companies - which he describes as “modern day plutocracies” - should be tackled at a higher level. 

Big tech firms are “oligarchies accountable to no-one”, he said. “It’s simply not a tenable position. They’re like media companies yet they’re not subject to media laws… We’ve allowed them to build private infrastructures. It needs to be tackled.” 

And (more of a comment on the US than the UK) he sees little value in companies reporting earnings quarterly, which he said is driven by “short-term profit maximisation”. 

Intriguingly, Pabst does not shy away from taking a stance on one of the most divisive issues of our times: immigration. 

Catholic Social Thought, he explains, is humane and pro-immigrant. But, to break with what he calls “a low wage, low skill model”, mass economic migration is to be discouraged, because it is detrimental to both the sending and receiving countries. 

“[We say] yes to refugees, to asylum. But no to mass economic migration,” he said. 

So, going into an election, how likely are we to see things change for the better? 

Rather than being optimistic - the belief that eventually things will get better - Pabst is hopeful, because he believes that things could be different, but he is not necessarily expecting it. 

“I remain hopeful,” he said. “I just don’t quite see who’s going to do it.” 

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6 min read

How to survive a culture war

Blaise Pascal shows us what really underlies our contemporary battles.

Graham is the Director of the Centre for Cultural Witness and a former Bishop of Kensington.

Two goats lock horns.
Maxime Gilbert on Unsplash.

We often say these days that we are more polarised as a society than ever before. But we're wrong. Maybe the USA is experiencing a particularly sharp divide right now, but they have had their own, much more violent troubles in the past. And in Europe, and especially in Britain, we know a fair bit about culture wars that were literally that – wars.  

In the 17th century, we English had our own civil war where we literally killed each other over religion and politics. We even killed a king. The French did something similar and even more vicious just over 100 years later. That is real polarisation. However spiteful Twitter/X arguments may get, I don't think Charles III or even Kier Starmer is quaking in their beds expecting to be put on trial for treason.  

So maybe our history has something to teach us about how we navigate culture wars.  

The literary critic Terry Eagleton once wrote of our age:  

“the world is accordingly divided between those who believe too much and those who believe too little. While some lack all conviction, others are full of passionate intensity.” 

 We tend to think our contemporary divide between left and right, progressives and conservatives is something new. But we can find echoes of this in previous times.  

A case in point was the mid-17th century – the time of many other upheavals in Europe. Part of the febrile atmosphere of the time saw fierce arguments between rationalists and sceptics.  

There were at the time, two broad strands of thinking about the human condition. On the one had there were the ‘Dogmatists’ who were sure that they knew everything through use of reason or the application of philosophical or scientific method (like René Descartes). On the other hand, there were the ‘Sceptics’ who thought everything was random, or custom, and there is no final Truth to be found (like a figure from the century before – Michel de Montaigne). 

Of course, our own time has its fair share of people with an overwhelming confidence in the power of human knowledge, and the physical sciences in particular, to unlock the secrets of life, the universe and everything. The ‘new atheist’ project of Richard Dawkins and friends was hugely confident in reason and its capacity to tell us all we need to know, dispatching religion to the dustbin of history and instead placing an unshakable faith in the empirical methods of science. It had - and has - definite similarities with this picture of human knowledge.  

Yet on the other hand we also have, in the progressive postmodern project, those who reject any kind of underlying rationality or sacred order either above us or beneath us. For them, there is no underlying Truth to be discovered, and they delight in revealing the instability and illusory nature of any claim to truth. It sounds very much like the culture wars of our time. 

One enigmatic 17th century figure charted a way through this dilemma - Blaise Pascal. When he looked at his century’s culture war, he thought both sides had a point. There is, he observed… 

…open war between men in which everyone is obliged to take sides, either with the dogmatists or with the sceptics, because anyone who imagines he can stay neutral is a sceptic par excellence…. Who will unravel such a tangle? This is certainly beyond dogmatism and scepticism, beyond all human philosophy. Humanity transcends humanity. Let us then concede to the sceptics what they have so often proclaimed that truth lies beyond our scope and is an unattainable quarry, that it is no earthly denizen, but at home in heaven lying in the lap of God, to be known only insofar as it pleases him to reveal it. 

So far, he says, the sceptics, like Montaigne, are right. Truth is beyond our grasp, it does not reside here on earth, openly obvious and ready to be found. If it exists, it exists in some world above us, beyond our reach. How do we even know if we are asleep or awake, given that when we dream, we are as convinced that we are awake as we are when we are truly awake?  

And so, modern progressives, looking to dismantle the assumed results of previous understanding, due to its inherent colonial, patriarchal or abusive past, delight in showing how random and arbitrary is so much of what we take for granted from the past. And, Pascal would add, they have a point. Many of our legal, political and cultural assumptions are purely cultural and arbitrary, and sometimes simply serve to the advantage of the rich and powerful rather than the poor and marginalised. 

Yet on the other side, the ‘dogmatists’, like Descartes, have their strong point, which is that we cannot doubt natural principles. The acids of deconstruction can only take you so far. The most sceptical philosopher still puts the kettle on assuming that it will boil to make a cup of tea. She gets up in the morning assuming that the sun will rise and set again at the end of the day. Despite the corrosive effects of scepticism, Pascal wrote,  

“I maintain that a perfectly genuine sceptic has never existed. Nature backs up helpless reason and stops it going so wildly astray.”  

Despite all our doubt, we still live in a world with order and predictability. Scepticism keeps bumping up against reality.   

So, modern conservatives point to a deeper ‘givenness’ to things, an order within the natural world that we did not create, and yet, mysteriously, seems to be prearranged before we got here. Scientific exploration does make sense. There is a regularity to nature that we can, indeed have to, depend on. Sexual differences exist and can’t be ignored. We are not entirely free to override the natural order of things - there is a deeper rhythm to nature and its capacity for renewal that we only mess with at our peril, as climate change has taught us. As a result, the age-old battle between rationalists and sceptics, progressives and conservatives, will never find resolution, as the arguments flow back and forth.  

Christian faith includes both progressive and conservative impulses. Christians are aware of the brokenness of the world and therefore long to see it changed. The progressive impatience with the way things are, and the yearning for a better world has its roots in Christian faith.  

Yet at the same time, Christianity discerns a divinely created order to the world, a rhythm to the natural world, that cannot be broken and needs to be respected. Therefore, an inherent conservatism is part of Christian faith as well. In other words, the Christian story can explain both and offer a bigger picture than either.  

For Pascal, Christianity offers a diagnosis for this mystery of the human condition, the complex mix of grandeur and misery, infinity and nothing, sceptic and rationalist, in the simple, yet endlessly generative idea that we humans are gloriously created, deeply fallen and yet offered redemption through Jesus Christ. Our sadness is heroic and tragic. In Pascal’s suggestive image, it is “the wretchedness of a great Lord, the wretchedness of a dispossessed king.” 

“We show our greatness,” says Pascal, “not by being at one extreme, but by touching both at once and occupying all the space in between.” For him, the very existence of such culture wars points to the truth of the Christian diagnosis of the human condition. 

Pascal offers us a way between the Scylla of Progressivism and the Charybdis of Conservatism – or perhaps better, to embrace the best of both. Culture wars are tricky to navigate. Yet they might find resolution if we allow them to point us to a deeper reality - our strange mixture of greatness and sadness. And not losing sight of either side of this enduring truth.  

 

Graham Tomlin is the author of Blaise Pascal: The Man Who Made the Modern World  (Hodder) £25.  

Watch Graham explain why he is fascinated by Pascal.

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