Does the UK deserve its increasing reputation as a “Failed State”?

I’d no sooner put up the previous post about the internecine slanging matches going on within the UK government amongst scientific and political advisers, civil servants and Ministers than an Open Access book came to my attention with the very apt title of “How did Britain come to this? A Century of systemic failure” by Gwyn Bevan (2023). 

The subtitle is rather unfortunate since it led me to believe that we were in 

for a critique of the sort infamously inflicted in Blunders of Our Governments 

in 2013 which was roundly critiqued by two of the author’s own professional 

colleagues. Matt Flinders was first off the mark – to argue that -   

There can be no doubting that King and Crewe provide 12 “horror stories” to support their argument but, without any meaningful reference points against which to evaluate the frequency or nature of these cases, the reader is left with little more than an entertaining list of policy failures. Put slightly differently, it is difficult to really assess whether modern governments in Britain blunder too often or whether when gauged against the challenges of governing in the twenty-first century that the real surprise might be that governments do not blunder more often. This is a critical point.

This is really a polemic rather than a balanced analysis of British government. The authors may reply with reference to the second chapter’s attempt to focus on “an array of successes” (just 12 pages in length in a book of nearly 500 pages) to deny this argument, but the tone and content of the other 26 chapters leave the reader in no doubt as to the authors’ core argument that modern governments in Britain blunder too often. However, without any way of scientifically underpinning this argument, could it be that this book risks adding an oversimplified layer of veneer to an already dominant antipolitical culture that generally thinks that governments and politicians never do anything else but fail or blunder? The problem with such an interpretation is that it is not actually true.

The realm of fate has to some extent been narrowed through collective social endeavor (i.e., democratic politics, and therefore to some extent by politicians). In the 50 years since Bernard Crick wrote “In Defense of Politics,” there has been a 17% increase in life expectancy worldwide. “The world is a much better place today than it was in 1990 or even in 1970.” The United Nations Human Development Report for 2010 concludes that

“over the past twenty years many people around the world have experienced dramatic improvements in key areas of their lives . . . they are healthier, more educated, wealthier and have more power to appoint and hold their leaders accountable than ever before.”

This report also highlights the clear positive relationship between democratic politics and human development, but King and Crewe provide little flavor of this broader global context.

The insights and arguments offered by scholars including Andrew Gamble (“Politics and Fate”, 2000), Gerry Stoker (“Why Politics Matters”, 2006), and Colin Hay (“Why We Hate Politics”, 2007) would all have added tone and texture and balance in way that intensified the social relevance and reach of the book. Others who would have challenged the general narrative offered by King and Crewe—Natan Sharansky (“The Case for Democracy”, 2007), Peter Riddell (“In Defence of Politicians”, 2011), Danny Oppenheimer and Mike Edwards (“Democracy Despite Itself”, 2012), Stephen Medvic (“In Defense of Politicians”, 2012), and Wendy Whitman Cobb (“Unbroken Government”, 2013) to mention just a few—are equally absent and sorely missed.

It is also true that many of the “blunders”—but not all—will be well known to many readers, as will many of the explanations that King and Crewe offer to explain the frequency of such failings. “Failure in British Government” (David Butler, Tony Travers, and AndrewAdonis) and “Groupthink in Government” (Paul ‘t Hart) — books that deal with specific failures or explanations were both written two decades ago, whereas Gerald Kaufman’s “How to Be a Minister” (first published over three decades ago) provides a magisterial insight into the dangers of departmentalism, reshuffles, and ministerial hyperactivism that King and Crewe offer as explanatory variables. More recent books like Christopher Hood’s “The Blame Game” (2013) or the content of specialist journals like Contingencies and Crisis Management might also have added a clearer sense of the complexities of modern governance.

Bill Jennings supplied a more definitive and comparative riposte in this later review in which he took the trouble to chart the mistakes made by other governments

Bevan’s book was launched last week with this rather uninspiring presentation. But it is worth reading – with its focus very much on the ideology behind neoliberalism and its impact on basic education and health services. And it is well presented – with many charts illustrating the text.