I walked down a flight of stairs to the basement of the Institute of Education, past the student union bar, and pushed a heavy door. The room was three quarters full. Everyone turned to look at me.
‘Is this where, er, the lecture is?’ I immediately realised I was asking a ridiculous question. The chairs were set out in neat rows. There was a data projector. Of course there was going to be a lecture.
‘Is Nick here?’ I asked.
Nick was the organiser. He had kindly sent me some instructions about how to find the room. Nick raised his hand. I was relieved. I walked over to him, introduced myself, shook his hand and found a seat on the second row. I had made it just in time.
The title of the lecture was ‘how to think about politics’. Our speaker, called Michael, began at the beginning, and the beginning turned out to be the Neolithic period. Michael spoke about the domestication of animals and flocks of sheep. Flocks had to be managed and controlled. Tribes, it was argued, used to worship ‘totems’ which were deities that were linked to a tribe by blood. This was then replaced with the concept of an ‘idol’.
Things got even more difficult to follow when philosopher Thomas Hobbes was mentioned. It was at that point that I cursed my lack of general knowledge about history and philosophy; my attention started to drift. All I could hear was the voice of the speaker and not his words.
Michael got my attention again when Freud was thrown into the confusing academic mix. I have opinions about Freud: I think that Freud’s theories are generally nonsense, but are quite good fun. Our speaker spoke about the Oedipus complex, and somehow came to the conclusion that, broadly speaking, society (in the widest possible sense) is neurotic.
Without taking breath, we then were onto the challenge of the welfare state and dealing with an aging population, whilst taking a slight diversion to discuss tax evasion. We were then onto the worship of monetarism and how states manipulate the populace to gain obedience. After a momentary pause, it was then time to talk about the Communist Manifesto. An interesting line that I scribbled down was the view that ‘the aim of practical politics was to keep the general population perpetually alarmed’. As soon as Michael’s sentence landed in my consciousness, I chewed my pen for a few instants whilst thinking about current media stories.
When I had recovered my attention, the tenor of the talk had changed. We were being told about the importance of science and technology, and that venture capitalists were pushing us towards a better future. Capitalism, it was argued, fosters change, and a free society quickens that change to create a ‘perpetual peaceful revolution’. Rather than war, it was argued, we have ‘peaceful destruction’. Markets, it was said, gives everyone an opportunity to experiment and to live ‘a big, productive and full life’. Things are, however, less than ideal. Capitalism, it was said, needed to be imposed on capitalists.
At the end of the speech, everyone clapped. I was impressed with the speaker and the way that he had presented his argument, and the way that he had moved from one subject to another, drawing on increasingly surprising sources to make his points. This said, I didn’t understand a word of it.
The questions were interesting. The subject of ‘creative destruction’ was debated. Karl Marx was quoted, and there was musing about whether we were just academic observers along a path that inevitably leads to revolution, or whether we could break this theoretical cycle. These discussions led to the joke of the evening: ‘there are two classes of people in the world, those who believe there are two classes of people, and everyone else’.
The discussions moved into new directions; I started to make notes about self-interest and altruism. The conclusion seemed to be that self-interest is good, and that altruism is pointless. This was complemented by the phrase: ‘if you don’t take advantage of the state, the state will take advantage of you’, understanding that that the concept of ‘the state’ was being equated to the notion of ‘ideology’. Another interesting expression that emerged was the phrase: ‘ideology blinds you to the fact that you are suffering or are being exploited’.
Fifteen minutes later, we were all in the student union bar. It turned out that there were two organisers: one who advertised the events on Meetup, and the other organiser who booked the speakers. I learnt something about the history of the group, and how there had been a schism and how the key players were trying to patch everything up. I also chatted to Dave, a former software developer, who had recently published some pamphlets.
Everyone made me feel very welcome, but I struggled to understand what everyone was talking about, and what the objective of the group was other than to have a gentle rant about ‘the government’ over a beer.
When I got home, I did a bit of research into the group. I found some words that described its fundamental tenets: the importance of liberty and freedom from state meddling. Had I stumbled into a group of anarcho-capitalists? I suddenly began to feel slightly uncomfortable.
The meeting gave me an opportunity to reflect on my own political views: I believe that states are important, as is effective regulation. I disagree with the notion that we all are in a position to just ‘go out there’, be enterprising and live ‘a big life’ with abandon. I also fundamentally disagree that altruism is pointless. I’m of the opinion that life and circumstances can very often work against us. Sometimes, the state needs to give us a helping hand. The state, I argue, facilitates and defends our liberty.
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