What the Red Wall really is. But why it’s also a mindset – not just geography

24 Mar

Since the Conservative Party won its huge majority in 2019, newspapers have devoted a huge amount of coverage to “Red Wall” voters, who were widely credited for delivering the decisive election result. The phrase has become synonymous with traditional/working-class Labour heartlands, particularly in the North, where people somehow decided Etonian Boris Johnson was the man for them two years ago.

How could this be? It seemed remarkable that voters that had historically rejected, even despised, the Conservatives had such a change of heart. Many Tories have spoken about the need to repay these voters; that they lent them their vote and so forth, hence the endless promises of “levelling up” in the North and other parts of the country. Labour, too, has been trying to win back “foundation seats”, a new term for the Red Wall, through a strategy that recommends “use of the [union] flag, veterans [and] dressing smartly”.

At the same time, increasing numbers of political pundits have pointed out that there’s been a tendency to generalise Red Wall voters, in terms of who they are and what sort of politics they go for. The Red Wall actually covers quite a large part of the UK, yet the term often treats voters across it as a homogeneous entity, all wanting the same things. Writing for The Critic, Lewis Baston says the “mythical wall was a way of making a patronising generalisation about a huge swathe of England (and a corner of Wales)”.

What’s interesting is how much the Red Wall definition evolved from when it was first coined by pollster James Kanagasooriam in August of 2019. He used it to describe a geographical stretch running from “N Wales into Merseyside, Warrington, Wigan, Manchester, Oldham, Barnsley, Nottingham and Doncaster”, whose constituents, based on education and economic factors, might be expected to vote Conservative but tended to go for the Labour Party.

In his 2020 blog, Anthony Wells, Director of Political Research at YouGov, says the reason many such areas vote the way they do is due to “cultural, historical and social hostility towards the Tories”. In former mining communities, for instance, “the legacy and memory of Thatcherism and the dismantling of industry in the North in the 1980s” has lingered. Merseyside is “still extremely unforgiving territory”, he writes.

But the Conservatives were able to break down many other barriers in 2017 and 2019, in parts of Lancashire, Country Durham and Derbyshire. The most obvious explanation for the Conservatives’ big majority was its message of getting “Brexit done”, which unified voters across the political spectrum. Many were also turned off by Jeremy Corbyn, who projected a lack of patriotism among other things. Clearly the Conservatives’ manifesto and messaging appealed to a lot of new demographics.

But here’s where it gets trickier as the Red Wall was not just about Brexit, or any of the other variables it is sometimes attributed to. As Baston points out there are lots of marginal seats in the Red Wall, such as Bury North, which has “only voted twice since 1955 for the party that has not won the popular vote (1979 and 2017).” So it cannot be taken as evidence of an epic Conservative breakthrough. Others point out that there has been a “long-term structural shift against Labour in these constituencies.”

Of course, the Conservatives should be proud of making headway in new areas, but the Red Wall narrative has become too simplistic. Furthermore, Kenan Malik made an interesting point when he wrote that, “the red wall is deployed less as a demographic description than as a cypher for a certain set of values that working-class people supposedly hold, a social conservatism about issues such as immigration, crime, welfare and patriotism.”

Increasingly it seems to me that people use the Red Wall as a synonym for a worldview. We might say, for instance, that the Red Wall voters like displays of patriotism, such as the union flag. But you could say that for lots of people around the country. Dare I say sometimes the Red Wall is used as a way of getting an “unfashionable” view across (“but I doubt the Red Wall is enjoying the latest BBC programming”), where others might be worried to say it themselves. Perhaps the Red Wall is more mindset than geography.

Profile. Kwarteng Unchained. The rise, wobble and rise of the big, bold, bright new Business Secretary

14 Jan

Last Friday, Kwasi Kwarteng slipped quietly into the Cabinet as Business Secretary. His promotion was announced, ConHome noted, with no fanfare, but could prove one of Boris Johnson’s most significant appointments.

For as soon as the emphasis shifts from surviving the pandemic to reviving the economy, Kwarteng will become a key figure.

He has many admirers. “I think it’s an inspired appointment,” a senior backbencher said.

“He’s not only very clever,” a minister commented. “He has beliefs.”

Kwarteng has never been shy about communicating those beliefs. Here he is in his maiden speech, delivered in June 2010, refusing to allow Labour members to disclaim responsibility for the crash of 2007-08:

“I have to say – even though this is a maiden speech, I will be controversial – that to hear Labour Members in many of these debates is to be in never-never land; they have not once accepted any blame for what happened and they seem to think that we can just sail on as before.

“In many of their eloquent speeches it appears that they have forgotten that wealth creation is the most important element in getting us out of this recession. I heard Mr Meacher, who I believe has been in the House for 40 years, say that he was going to tax those in The Sunday Times rich list. Of course, one of the results of their being rich is that they can leave the country in about half an hour, so if he were to go down that route, a lot of them would leave and he would not bring in any more money to the Exchequer.

“One of the right hon. Gentleman’s remarks reminded me of the story of the man who, when leaving a gentlemen’s club – it might have been the Carlton Club – in 1970 gave the footman sixpence. The footman looked at him and said, ‘That is only sixpence,’ to which he replied, ‘Ah, it is sixpence to you, but it is a pound to me.’ That was because income tax was at 95 per cent or 97 per cent. We cannot go down the road that the right hon. Gentleman suggests, and the Conservatives have stressed again and again that the only way to get out of this difficulty is to try to let business grow.”

Kwarteng has a gusto and readiness to be amused which are not always found in senior politicians. He is always in play, keen to have the necessary argument, trenchant without being rancorous, a man of loud laughter as well as conviction, and also six foot five inches tall, which makes him yet more difficult to overlook.

In 2012, when he and four other members of the 2010 intake – Priti Patel, Dominic Raab, Liz Truss and Chris Skidmore – published Britannia Unchained: Global Lessons for Growth and Prosperity, they attracted prudish expressions of disapproval for declaring:

“The British are among the worst idlers in the world. We work among the lowest hours, we retire early and our productivity is poor. Whereas Indian children aspire to be doctors or businessmen, the British are more interested in football and pop music.”

Four of the five authors are now in the Cabinet. As Business Secretary, Kwarteng is in a position to fulfil the positive vision set out in Britannia Unchained, which looked at what could be learned from India, Canada, Israel and Brazil, and pointed out that in Singapore, Hong Kong and South Korea,

“a combination of private enterprise and effective government policy has enabled economic growth rates which we can only dream about in the West.”

The quintet also expressed admiration for Chinese growth rates, “scarcely equalled in world history”, and advocated low taxes, spending cuts and a restored work ethic.

All this prompted widespread expressions of horror in the British press, as if the country was about to be wrecked by noxious foreign influences.

Left-wing critics felt, too, an instinctive aversion to the authors’ patriotism, their unembarrassed determination to reinvigorate Great Britain.

Such critics tended to miss the extent to which immigrants to this country, and their descendants, are inspired by what Shirley Robin Letwin identified, in The Anatomy of Thatcherism, as “the vigorous virtues”, which mean a preference for the individual who is

“upright, self-sufficient, energetic, adventurous, independent-minded, loyal to friends, and robust against enemies.”

Kwarteng is a good example of this. His parents were born in the Gold Coast, as Ghana was known when it was a British colony, and emigrated to Britain.

Their only child, Kwasi Alfred Addo Kwarteng, was born in 1975 in Waltham Forest, on the Essex side of London, so was four when Margaret Thatcher became Prime Minister.

He has related, in an interview given to mark the publication of one of his books, how his mother, Charlotte, who became a barrister, identified with Thatcher:

“It was a self-reliance thing. Look, this is what we all forget about Margaret Thatcher. Her story was so extraordinary, given where she had come from, that some immigrants — and I’m not saying a majority, but some people who were new to this country — did identify with her. This woman who had become the leader of the Conservative Party and Prime Minister. It was a log cabin to White House sort of thing. It was a powerful story.”

His father, Alfred, who worked as an economist for the Commonwealth Secretariat, was a man of the Left, with an education in Ghana which had been in the English tradition,

“in a leafy Anglican school emulating the English public school, down to its Winchester-educated English headmaster.”

Kwasi’s education was likewise thoroughly English. His father was posted by the Commonwealth Secretariat to Switzerland, but the boy was sent at the age of eight to board at Colet Court, an academic preparatory school in London: “Probably too young, but I loved it”

Most boys from Colet Court go on to St Paul’s, but Kwasi won a scholarship to Eton, where he gained the school’s chief academic prize, the Newcastle Scholarship, a distinction shared, among Conservative politicians, with Quintin Hogg, Douglas Hurd, William Waldegrave and Boris Johnson.

Like Johnson, he competed with enthusiasm in the Wall Game, whose educational value was elucidated by Oliver Van Oss, who taught at Eton:

“The Wall Game is the supreme non-spectacle, the last sport totally to disregard the spectator… As a preparation for life, the Wall Game has two special merits. It teaches one to push oneself to the limits of endurance and discomfort without losing one’s temper. It provides the perfect training for later work on boards, committees, royal commissions and governing bodies. The unmovable and the irresistible are poised in perfect balance. Nothing is happening and it seems unlikely that anything ever will. Then, for two seconds or so, the situation becomes fluid. If one can take one’s chance – and there may not be another – the day is won. If one miskicks or mistimes or is timid or was not attending, all may be irretrievably lost.”

Kwarteng was not timid, and was paying attention:

“Kwarteng’s interview at Trinity College, Cambridge, became the stuff of an oft-retold Eton school legend. A relatively young tutor ended a slightly nervy interview by mentioning that this was his first time interviewing entrance candidates. ‘Oh, don’t worry, sir, you did fine,’ smiled the 18-year-old Kwarteng reassuringly.”

At Trinity he took Firsts in History and Classics, and was in the winning University Challenge team.

Through the Oakeshott Society, run by Dr John Casey in the next door college, Caius, Kwarteng at a tender age met various Daily Telegraph journalists, who saw in him a delightful conversationalist, precociously well-read and exceptionally able, and conferred on him a column in that newspaper.

He became a Kennedy Scholar at Harvard, after which he did a doctorate in economic history at Cambridge and earned some money as an analyst in the City, working for and becoming friends with Crispin Odey.

In 2005 he stood for Parliament as a Conservative in Brent East, and came third, in 2008 he ran unsuccessfully for the London Assembly, and in 2010 he was adopted in an open primary held at Kempton Park racecourse as the candidate for the safe Tory seat of Spelthorne, which used to be in Middlesex but is now in Surrey, and is situated south of Heathrow Airport.

Kwarteng was by now encumbered with predictions that he would soon achieve greatness. He was described as “the black Boris” and a future Prime Minister, and wrote several well-received works of history, including Ghosts of Empire and War and Gold.

But he was by no means slavishly loyal to David Cameron and George Osborne, preserved indeed the sovereign manner of a free man, received from them no preferment and backed Leave in the EU Referendum, and Johnson’s failed leadership bid immediately afterwards.

After Theresa May’s not entirely successful election campaign of 2017, Kwarteng was made PPS to the Chancellor of the Exchequer, Philip Hammond, and in August 2018, when Suella Braverman resigned as Under-Secretary at the Department for Exiting the European Union, Kwarteng was put in to replace her.

The following year, he again backed Johnson for the leadership, and was rewarded with the post of Minister of State at the Department for Business, Energy and Industrial Strategy.

So Kwarteng has had a year and a half to get to know his department, and work out what can be done with it.

A senior Remainer said of his appointment: “He will be really good. Whatever you think about Brexit, he’s got a clear view of the world. It’s helpful for a big Brexiteer to have to own a lot of the issues that will come up.”

We are about to witness Kwarteng Unchained. Stuffed to the gills with the finest education England can provide, he has the chance to rejoice the hearts of Conservatives by showing that Eton, and other ancient foundations wrongly supposed to be resistant to change, are actually a marvellous preparation for the modern world.

The short sharp shuffle. Sharma takes on COP26 full-time. Kwarteng steps up a rung to become Business Secretary.

8 Jan

The end of transition was a calendar fixture and ought, in the event of a trade agreement, to have offered Boris Johnson the chance to refresh the Government – since a deal would both boost his standing with Conservative MPs and bring calmer political waters.

But then an event took place last winter that was very much not a calendar fixture: the first major pandemic in a century.  It would consequently have looked and been frivolous to have a major reshuffle now, and so lash those waters up again at a moment when the Prime Minister needs all Ministerial hands on deck.

The same logic applies to the next natural break in the political calendar: the February half-term recess.  Hospitalisations will have risen and may not be falling by then.

Then there is Easter in early April.  But Covid considerations apart, local elections are due in May.  Why hold a big reshuffle before then rather than after?

And if they are postponed until June, why not wait until September for a shuffle, before the Conservative Party Conference (for there will be one in some form), rather than send MPs off for the summer recess in the wake of a self-made squall – since reshuffles inevitably bring more pain than gain?

The shape of events since the outbreak of a new strain of Covid has thus suggested putting off the shuffle until early autumn.  Furthermore, no Cabinet Minister will then reasonably be able to complain if sacked or moved, having been in place for the best part of 18 months.  However, there was a snag.

Namely, what to do about COP26, due to take place in Glasgow this November?  To cut a long story short, it will need an agreement to be a political success for the Prime Minister, and is set to be his second major diplomatic setpiece of the year – the first being the UK’s G7 presidency and the consequent summit, usually held during the summer.

That requires a lot of legwork.  And the Minister in charge of the COP26 negotiation, Alok Sharma, wore two hats – his other being that of Business Secretary.

So the Prime Minister has gone for a short sharp solution – announced on a Friday evening, a legendary graveyard news slot, in which Governments make announcements that they wish to gain limited publicity.

No big shuffle.  No return to the Cabinet yet for Anne-Marie Trevelyan, who was removed when her DfID job was abolished recently, but reportedly promised a return.  She is back in the department as Energy Minister, which will surely be a disappointment.  And there is no comeback for Sajid Javid, whose name was in the frame for the BEIS job.  Instead, Johnson has opted for a minimalist, orderly solution.

Sharma stays in Cabinet, and goes full-time for the COP26 role.  And Kwasi Kwarteng, already a Minister of State in the Business department, moves one slot up to replace him as Secretary of State.  By our count, the Cabinet was one under its maximum count of 22, so Sharma stays a full member.

Kwarteng is a big, personable, right-wing historian, who once wrote a lively column for the Prime Minister’s alma mater – the Daily Telegraph.  He was a co-author of the Free Enterprise Group’s bracing study Britannia Unchained.

So he is bound to see the trade deal as a further loosening of the bonds.  The Government’s friends will say that he ups the Cabinet’s number of ethnic minority members to five.  Its enemies will reply that it raises the number of Old Etonians to two.

Sharma is not at all a front-of-house Cabinet showman, being inclined to block the bowling and risk nothing outside off stump, but he is a diligent, toiling Minister.  More to the point, he is a loyalist: a Johnson voter in the 2019 leadership election, playing Jeremy Hunt during campaign practice debates.  Kwarteng is another loyalist – though he broke ranks to lay into “misfit and weirdo” Andrew Sabinsky.

The term was Dominic Cummings’, not Kwarteng’s: readers will remember the former Chief Adviser seeking to recruit some to the civil service.  Kwarteng departed from the Government line to accuse Sabinsky of racism. But Cummings has left the building…

We take this mini-shuffle as a sign that a bigger one is now unlikely to come until the autumn.  This is not a strong Cabinet, but the Prime Minister is sticking with it, at least for the moment.

Dependability, a lack of fuss, predictability – and taking the drama out of event.  These are not qualities most people associate with Johnson but, when it comes to Government shuffles, they are becoming trademarks: oh, plus loyalty, of course.  Though the treatment of Trevelyan hangs over these moves like a questionmark.

An Eton mess

2 Dec

This week, Eton has found itself the subject of immense media scrutiny after it dismissed a teacher for posting a “controversial” video on Youtube.

Titled “The Patriarchy Paradox”, it was created and narrated by Will Knowland, an English teacher at the school, who made strong statements about the role of men and women in society, and challenged the fashionable notion that differences between the sexes are “socially constructed”.

Knowland’s 33-minute online lecture was intended for Eton’s “Perspectives” curriculum, designed to spark debate, although he seemed to cause something of a fire.

According to Lord Waldegrave, Provost of Eton College, who has since defended the dismissal of Knowland in the national press, the following events took place:

  • Simon Henderson, Eton’s headmaster, received complaints about the video;
  • there were suggestions that it broke the Equality Act and the Education (Independent Schools Standards) Regulations;
  • the school then consulted an independent barrister, who said “that this was indeed so”;
  • Henderson asked and then instructed Knowland to temporarily take the video down while “a way forward could be explored”
  • Knowland refused to do this on six occasions;
  • after further investigations, including a panel hearing, it was decided that Knowland’s “persistent refusal to accept a reasonable – indeed inevitable – instruction from the Head Master in such an important matter amounted to gross misconduct which should result in dismissal.”

No doubt the school hoped the matter would be resolved after that. But Knowland has since started a crowdfunder to challenge his dismissal, which has raised tens of thousands of pounds.

He has the support of the Free Speech Union, and Eton pupils, who have written a strongly worded letter to Waldegrave, citing their “grave” concerns about free speech. A total of 2,100 from the Eton community have called for Knowland’s reinstatement and there are reports that alumni will stop donations to the school if it does not do this.

And so, Eton has something of a rather messy time ahead, all the while Knowland’s video has done rather well out of the debacle (picking up 68,000 views at the time of writing).

But who is right on this matter, morally and legally? And what does it mean for wider society?

The first thing to say is that it’s not obvious what Eton’s legal team found to be in breach of the Equality Act. Knowland bulldozes his way into the topic of gender differences, and makes contentious statements, such as “regarding the vote, women have always had it at the local level“. But is it any more shocking than the other opinions that Knowland tries to counter? Would a radical feminist, for example, be subjected to the same rules for accusing men of “toxic masculinity”? I think we all know the answer.

John Bald, a former Ofsted inspector and Chairman of the Conservative Education Society from 2018-2020, tells me that he cannot see anything in Knowland’s video that could make it an offence. “He is not harassing or discriminating against anyone, and neither is the school. It is not presenting his views as fact”.

A solicitor in The Times suggests part of the issue might down to the age of the pupils, saying: “Children might not be able to distinguish [views that society found unacceptable].” Doing nothing could have left the school open to an investigation from the Equality and Human Rights Commission.” But anyone watching Knowland’s video would struggle to see how pupils need to be shielded from it.

Knowland’s main “crime” seems to be advancing the position that men and women are neurologically different, which – I should reiterate, was designed to provoke debate (and has certainly fulfilled that function). Even so, it is strange that this causes so much controversy given that it is supported by a huge amount of evidence. As a psychology graduate, I have experienced first hand the censoriousness and denial around this topic, so it doesn’t surprise me that Knowland has caused offence. But it does ask big questions of the Equality Act, and whether it needs to be changed, if it is now illegal to say men and women are different.

Deep down I suspect part of the reason Eton fired Knowland was fear about wider societal backlash. In another part of the Etonian students’ letter, they accuse the school of “seeking to protect its new image as politically progressive at the expense of one of its own”, which appears to rather hit the nail on the head. In a world where Etonian politicians are constantly derided for their privilege, is it any wonder the school wants to project a more morally conscious image? So much so that is now overreacts over the idea of innate gender differences.

In doing so, Eton has not made matters easier for itself. It has, in fact, found itself inadvertently thrown into the culture wars, inviting questions about whether it is yet another institutional victim of wokeness. In truth, what happens next, from whether Knowland wins his case to the school’s principles on what opinions are acceptable, has huge implications for us all.

Interview: Goodhart says Johnson understands better than Starmer that a graduate meritocracy alienates manual workers

21 Oct

Sitting on a bench on a sunny afternoon in Hampstead, on a grassy bank with a view of Erno Goldfinger’s modern house at 2 Willow Road, David Goodhart warns of “the dark side of creating a cognitive meritocracy”.

In his new book, Head, Hand, Heart: The Struggle for Dignity and Status in the 21st Century, Goodhart contends that this meritocracy now shapes society largely in its own interests, and has devalued work done by hand or from the heart.

He believes Theresa May, Nick Timothy and Boris Johnson have so far shown greater signs than the Labour Party of comprehending what has gone wrong, and the need to uphold a national social contract.

Goodhart adds that we are sending far too many people to university, creating “a bloated cognitive bureaucratic class” and “a crisis of expectations for the kids”, many of whom find their degrees are of no real worth, and turn instead to protest movements such as Momentum and Black Lives Matter.

He laments “the lack of emotional intelligence of highly educated people”, and also touches on his own outbreak of rebellion after failing to be picked for the First Eleven cricket team at Eton.

ConHome: “Let’s start with the distinction you made in your previous book, The Road to Somewhere, between the Somewheres and the Anywheres.”

Goodhart: “The new book is The Road to Somewhere part two. It’s motivated by the same interest in understanding the political alienation of so many of our fellow citizens and what lies behind it.

“One of the complaints about the previous book was that the Anywhere/Somewhere divide is too binary. Obviously it is somewhat binary. But in the real world it is somewhat binary.

“People who read the book will know there’s lots of sub-divisions in the Anywheres, lots of sub-divisions in the Somewheres.

“A lot of the Guardian-reading classes felt I think very defensive about the last book – possibly rather less so about this one. The last book made more enemies because I was pointing out to a lot of people who think of themselves as progressive, and indeed on the side of the people who I call the Somewheres, that they are part of the problem.

“They like to think it’s the rich and the corporations that are the problem. But actually it is the lack of emotional intelligence of highly educated people whose priorities have dominated our society for the last generation or two.”

ConHome: “So this is new? Or it’s got worse, anyhow.”

Goodhart: “Exactly. It’s only really in the last 25, 30 years that the liberal graduate class has become so dominant, more numerous, and less inhibited about pursuing their own interests – generally thinking, for most of the time, that these are in the general, common interest, and indeed some of the time they are.

“Quite a large part of this is about educational stratification. It’s about the dark side of creating a cognitive meritocracy.

“We’re in the middle of a great deluge of books having a go at the meritocracy. There’s the Michael Sandel book, The Tyranny of Merit, there’s a guy a few months ago called Daniel Markovits who wrote a book called The Meritocracy Trap, he teaches at Yale Law School and is partly talking about his own very, very high-flying American students, and how even they suffer from it in some ways.

“These bigger reflections on the limits of meritocracy have mainly come from America. It’s quite interesting to reflect on why that is. One obvious reason is that meritocracy only really became – contrary to Michael Young’s intention [in The Rise of the Meritocracy 1870-2033, published in 1958] – a feature of Centre-Left politics back in the Eighties, Nineties.

“After all, the Left had been at least formally more egalitarian than meritocratic. Meritocracy after all is the opportunity to be unequal.

“As that bold religion of socialism died, meritocracy became the soft soap version for modern social democrats, as the Left was forced to accept much of the political economy of the Centre Right, the Reagan/Thatcher reforms.

“It was easier for them to tell the meritocracy story than for the traditional Right, who at some level were still defending privilege. But even the Right was quite happy to take up the meritocratic mantle – the joke was that Tory party had been the party of people with large estates and was now the party of estate agents – they practised meritocracy while the Left talked about it.

“In America in particular this coincided with a period of grotesque increases in inequality, and slowdowns in social mobility pretty much across the western world.

“Meritocracy tends to get it both ways. It’s both criticised for not being sufficiently meritocratic, and it’s criticised in itself, for its own ideal – the Michael Young critique, which is essentially an egalitarian one. He was a very old-fashioned egalitarian socialist.

“Most people would go along with the Michael Young critique if you express it in terms of why on earth would we want to turn society into a competition in which the most able win and most of the rest feel like losers?”

ConHome: “It’s a very bleak, utilitarian idea, isn’t it. It doesn’t even contemplate the idea of human beings being of equal worth, which is the Christian idea.”

Goodhart: “The foundation of Christianity, and the foundation of democracy. One person one vote.”

ConHome: “We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal…”

Goodhart: “In recent times, too much reward and prestige has gone to this one, cognitive form of merit.

“Of course we all believe in meritocracy at some fundamental level. You do not want to be operated on by someone who’s failed their surgery exams. The people who run your nuclear research programme should be your top nuclear physicists.”

ConHome: “If you support Arsenal, you want Arsenal to have the best players.”

Goodhart: “You do not choose the England cricket team by lottery.”

ConHome: “In your new book, while remarking on the role played by chance in deciding a life course, you say your rebellious streak, mucking up your A levels and so forth, emerged as the result of your failure to get into the First Eleven cricket team at Eton.”

Goodhart: “I compare myself to John Strachey, who became a leading Communist in the 1930s after failing to get into the Eton First Eleven.

“My self-regarding explanation for that is that I was captain of the under-16 team, and I was a very selfless captain.”

ConHome [laughing]: “You gave everyone else a bowl.”

Goodhart: “I was an all-rounder, so I came in at number seven or eight, and I bowled fifth or sixth change, so I didn’t really develop either skill to a sufficient level to get into the First Eleven.”

ConHome: “Too much of a team player. And why did you not get those six votes when you stood on a Far Left ticket for a full-time student union job at York University, and just failed to win?”

Goodhart [laughing]: “That was bloody lucky. I’d be a f***ing Labour MP now.

ConHome: “Your father, Sir Philip Goodhart, was a distinguished Conservative MP. Anyhow, you feel relieved not to be a Labour MP.

“Which leads on to the question: who, politically, gets what you are talking about? Did Nick Timothy and Theresa May?”

Goodhart: “Well I think so. People sometimes say I influenced the notorious ‘If you believe you are a citizen of the world, you are a citizen of nowhere’ [May’s party conference speech of October 2016], but I think Nick is perfectly capable of thinking of that himself.

“But I contributed to a climate of opinion that made those sorts of ideas more legitimate and mainstream.

“It’s a shame that section of that speech…”

ConHome: “Came out all wrong.”

Goodhart: “I think what she said is perfectly right and perfectly legitimate, and she was actually aiming not so much at the Guardian academic, what Thomas Piketty called the Brahmin Left, she was aiming more at the people who don’t pay their taxes and the corporations who don’t pay their taxes, the people who live in the first-class airport lounges.

“All she had to do was preface it by something like ‘Of course there’s nothing wrong with being an internationally minded person…'”

ConHome: “There are lots of people here in Hampstead who think of themselves as citizens of the world, but they love Hampstead as well, and would rise up in their wrath against any threat to Hampstead.”

Goodhart: “They don’t have to love their country, but it’s also important they feel some kind of attachment to their fellow citizens, rather than feeling only attachment to international bodies or people suffering in faraway lands.

“Of course one should as a human being feel that. But national social contracts remain incredibly important, central to politics in many ways, and if the best educated and most affluent people are detaching themselves from those social contracts then I think there is a problem.

“And it’s reasonable for politicians to talk about it.”

ConHome: “To some extent both Trump and Johnson – without falling into the trap of imagining them to be identical – their success is partly explained by the work you’ve been doing.”

Goodhart: “Populism is a bastard expression of a majority politics which has not received expression in recent decades. The politics of what one might call the hard centre.

“Daniel Bell, the American sociologist, was asked for his political credo, some time back in the 1990s, and he said ‘a socialist in economics, a liberal in politics and a conservative in culture’.

“And I think that combination, I suppose someone like David Owen in this country might have come closer to it than most people, is very attractive, and I think it’s almost a majority one, but for various contingent historical reasons neither of the main political parties of the Centre Left or Centre Right have at least until recently adopted it.

“A lot of populism is a bastard form of that kind of lost centre actually.

“But I think both the Theresa May and to some extent the Boris Johnson government, when the Conservative Party decided it was going to be the party of Brexit, and particularly given how they’ve shifted to the Left on economic management, they probably come closer to that combination at the moment than any other political formation.

“And in some ways that’s a good thing. Boris rather oddly represents that combination, perhaps more than Starmer. And I do think, although I’ve been a member of the Labour Party most of my adult life, I resigned only a couple of years ago, I couldn’t bear the direction, because of Corbyn, yes, but even for Starmer I think there’s a real problem, me and Matt Goodwin argue which of us used this analysis first: that it’s easier for parties of the Right to move left on economics than it is for parties of the Left to move right on culture.”

Goodhart ended with some remarks about universities: “It’s absurd that we subsidise, even with tuition fees, the grand motorway into higher education. We’re international outliers in the very expensive form of higher education, which is residential higher education.

“Breaking that is I think pretty important in some ways. It’s a difficult thing to do. You get accused of wanting to kick away the ladder.

“We do need to readjust, and not allocate all of the prestige and reward to people that take the academic route, particularly as you just get diminishing returns.

“The most useful people, the Einsteins, are always going to be the people with the very highest academic, intellectual insight, producing new knowledge.

“What’s happened, though, is a whole great bloated cognitive bureaucratic class has emerged that piggybacks on the prestige of the higher intellectual cognitive class, and it’s now become dysfunctional.

“The knowledge economy simply doesn’t need so many knowledge workers, and yet we’re on automatic pilot, we’re creating a crisis of expectations for the kids.

“Even before AI comes along you can see this in the collapse of the graduate income premium. It used to be 100 per cent or 75 per cent, it’s now for most kids who don’t go to the most elite universities below ten per cent.

“They have these expectations. I think a lot of the political eruptions of recent times – Bernie Sanders in America, Jeremy Corbyn and the Momentum movement, even perhaps the Black Lives Matter movement, although there are obviously other factors there – are partly an expression of the disappointment of the new middle class at the lack of higher status and higher paid employment.”