Explainer
Comment
Nationalism
5 min read

Beyond wealth and wellbeing: how nations flourish

As GDP data is increasingly scrutinised, Ryan Gilfeather asks how to measure the true health and wealth of a nation.

Ryan Gilfeather explores social issues through the lens of philosophy, theology, and history. He is a Research Associate at the Joseph Centre for Dignified Work.

Two women sit behind a press conference desk against a backdrop, one listens as the other speaks and  gestures.
A recent International Monetary Fund press conference on the world economic outlook.
IMF.

Discussions of GDP loom large in our current age. As we live under the shadow of the threat of a recession in the UK, ministers and commentators anxiously follow our country’s Gross Domestic Product, to see whether we are on the right track. Measuring the total value of goods and services produced in a country, this figure is a litmus test for the health of an economy. Crucially, many policymakers and leaders in government believe this figure reveals the health of a nation. 

As we will see, not all agree. Opponents rightly highlight that an increase in GDP does not necessarily mean that ordinary citizens live better lives. There are good reasons to share this opposition from a Christian perspective. However, ultimately, the Christian tradition highlights a very different way to measure the health of a society. 

In 2020 The Carnegie UK Trust, a think tank campaigning for greater welfare for all, published a new measure for social progress: GDWe (Gross Domestic Wellbeing). In brief, they gathered and processed ONS (Office for National Statistics) data on a variety of domains in life, giving them a single figure on a 10-point scale to rate well-being. These domains included personal well-being, relationships, health, vocational activities, living environments, personal finances, the economy, education and skills, governance, and the environment. When they plotted GDP against GDWe from 2013-9, they revealed that the two do not always line up. As GDP steadily increased from 2016, overall welfare in society dipped. From 2013-9 GDP increased by 10.34 per cent and GDWe only 5.19 per cent. Hence, measuring GDP does not necessarily reveal whether life is getting better for ordinary.

Economic resources are not useless... However, they are not sufficient unto themselves for us to live full and good lives. 

This attempt to shift the conversation about social progress from predominantly centring GDP is commendable. The Bible does not legislate on whether to use GDP or GDWe. However, scriptures within it repeatedly decouple economic wealth from flourishing. For example, in the gospel of Matthew, Jesus says the following: 

Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal, but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consumes and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. 

In life, we can either focus our efforts on attaining wealth or fostering our relationship with God. Only the latter will lead us to flourish. Economic resources are not useless; they are necessary for us to thrive in certain conditions. However, they are not sufficient unto themselves for us to live full and good lives. Furthermore, when wealth becomes the focus of our hearts and minds, our lives will be hollow and fractured. GDWe is a good measure, insofar as it acknowledges that economic flourishing is not the same as a good quality of life, and it attempts to shed light on the latter. However, the Christian tradition highlights a different framework altogether to grasp the health of a society.  

Gregory of Nyssa, a fourth-century theologian and bishop, frames wellbeing as a human being reflecting the image of God to the greatest of their ability. The book of Genesis says that God made us all in His image. Gregory argues that this means that we can become like God in certain ways. God is the fullness of all good things, such as love, justice, peace, joy, and courage. Consequently, Gregory argues that when we act in good ways, we begin to share those characteristics, which in turn leads us to act well in the future. For example, if I defend someone who is under attack, I will become more courageous, and more likely to repeat the same action in the future. The more we reflect the image of God, by acting well and taking on His characteristics, the more we will flourish as individuals. In this vision of human flourishing, Gregory brings together an Aristotelian account of virtue, with a Christian understanding of people as the image of God.  

This framework for the well-being of an individual also provides a good barometer for the health of a society. All of these actions and characteristics are building blocks for a healthy society. So long as we have a good sense of how to act appropriately with love, justice, peace, joy and courage, then our actions will build up our common life together. They benefit all, rather than one. They are not zero-sum actions. Accordingly, a society made up of individuals who are acting well and reflecting the image of God would be very healthy indeed.  

As a measure of a society, we should ask whether it leads citizens away from virtuous actions and characteristics. For example, between 2019 and 2021, gun murders in the USA rose by 45%. Earlier this year, journalist John Burn-Murdoch argued this rise is partly due to decaying public trust in that country. This tells us that a culture marked by fear of others can lead some of its citizens to commit terrible actions and live lives full of violence. GDP may rise during this time, as may other markers of welfare. However, to see the whole picture we need also consider how societal forces are leading citizens away from flourishing in their reflection of the image of God. Then, we should go about addressing these malignant forces.  

 

In times of adversity... individuals in societies marked by high levels of trust are more satisfied with their lives and act more benevolently. 

At the same time, we should also consider how a society enables its citizens to reflect the image of God. Societies with high levels of social trust create space for a variety of positive actions and characteristics. The World Happiness Report studies people’s sense of life satisfaction worldwide. It routinely finds that in times of adversity, like the Great Recession in 2008 or the COVID pandemic, individuals in societies marked by high levels of trust are more satisfied with their lives and act more benevolently than others. Again, these social forces are not the same as GDP, yet they have a significant ability to shape the extent to which citizens can reflect the image of God, and thereby flourish.  

In my work for the Joseph Centre for Dignified Work, I am particularly concerned with low-wage workers’ pay and conditions. As I have argued elsewhere, low pay leads to some workers needing to take on two or more jobs. They, consequently, have no time to see their children, nourish their faith, or participate in community institutions. It is clear, therefore, that the widespread pattern of paying below the Real Living Wage (£11.94 p/h in London, £10.90 elsewhere), hinders people in their expression of love for God, family and neighbour. Pay and conditions are but one further example, amongst many, of how societal forces can hinder or help our flourishing in the reflection of the image of God.  

Needless to say, GDP and GDWe are still useful and necessary tools. However, they do not tell the full story. GDP only describes the progress of the economy as a whole, and GDWe can only describe the quality of an average person’s life. In contrast, when we set a goal that each citizen should reflect the image of God, we can begin to explore how societal forces enable or squeeze out this aim. With this greater knowledge in mind, we can strive for progress in our nation by fostering good structures and stamping out bad ones, so that all may reflect the image of God to the greatest of their ability.   

Article
Comment
Community
Freedom
Politics
4 min read

From councils to conclaves, there's a vital common ingredient

Church and state alike need pluralism.

George is a visiting fellow at the London School of Economics and an Anglican priest.

A gate to a churchyard displays a sign saying polling station.
A polling station through a churchyard.
Southwark Diocese

Rumours that Donald Trump may suspend the US constitution in order to seek a third term as president and yet darker threats that his regime may even harbour autocratic ambitions have reminded the West that we should not take democracy for granted. 

Parliamentary democracy, we have widely assumed, is A Good Thing. It’s so good that we not only want to share it but impose it on other populations. The Iraq war on which the UK and US embarked in 2003 was fought, we were told, for freedom and democracy, but it didn’t quite work out like that. 

By democracy, we tend to mean political accountability, through which parties of government exercise power through the will of the people they serve, expressed in regular plebiscites which ensure that no one can cling unchallenged to power. The recent English council elections are a small example of what we mean by that. 

The Trump phenomenon, though, begins to point towards the prospect of a popular will that is in favour of a form of government that doesn’t correspond to our usual liberal assumptions. There are voices, among them that of the writer Margaret Atwood, which anticipate a suspension of US democracy as a consequence of the President’s insanity. 

Most of us in the UK might argue that democracy need to be more than a system in which majorities have their way. We want our governments to be under the law too. And then we have to decide not only what law, but whose law. For those of religious faith, that question will partly and significantly be answered by God’s law, on which arguably western civilisation is built. 

This is where pluralism comes in, without which democracy can’t operate effectively. A state is a collection of political and civic communities, in which individuals have rights and duties, which are protected in law. 

This model is based on Roman legislature, intensely centralised and systemically suspicious of private societies, which is why early Christians were persecuted under it. The collapse of that empire left a legalistic vacuum, into which stepped nation-state kingdoms and the early medieval Church.  

Unlike political parties, we don’t compete for control, but form a community that points towards a saved and healed world. 

It was this latter organ of state that inherited the basic principles of Roman law, centralised, universal and sovereign, under the Pope. And it is that organ that will meet in conclave to elect a new Pope. To describe that election as democratic is more than a stretch, in that the demos, as in common people, are uninvolved and arguably unrepresented. 

So the Church is not a democracy, any more than God is accountable to his creation. Rather the other way around – some denominations speak of God’s “elect”, those he chooses for salvation. In Christian thought, God is a servant king, but nonetheless an absolute and, some who oppose the divine might say, tyrannical authority. 

How are we to respond to an undemocratic deity? One answer to that might be found in that pluralistic characteristic of democracy. We’re not good, frankly, as recognising pluralism in our faith systems. At best, we operate in a kind of absolute duopoly – you believe, or you don’t. A pluralistic model would be one in which we learn of the divine will through the entirety of creation, all manifestations of belief and unbelief, rather than simply our own. 

Pluralism is healthy, in secular politics as well as in religious observance. It has been observed that the old UK political duopoly of Labour and Conservative has been broken in these local elections by Reform UK and resurgent Liberal Democrats and Greens. It’s the polar opposite of the gathering autocracy in the US and gives a voice to a range of worldviews. 

This is not an argument for theocracy, but it is to claim that the Christian tradition rests on the principle that no political order can claim the authority of God other than the Body of Christ. And the Body of Christ incorporates all members of the human race. Unlike political parties, we don’t compete for control, but form a community that points towards a saved and healed world. 

The choice here is between a kind of secular citizenship, a form of multi-culturism which strikes an accord between varied communities on universally enlightened principles. Or we can respond to the energy on which that secular utopia might be founded, in building communities of the willing towards global justice and peace. That is a diversity mission for the Church. 

So, it’s less about democracy than pluralism. And that pluralism has to become a recognisable characteristic of the body of the faithful, which it all too often historically hasn’t been. One can only hope and pray that it might be a mission that is also at the heart of the deliberations that lead to a puff of white smoke from the Sistine Chapel in the coming days. 

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