Review
Culture
Economics
Politics
10 min read

The book Keir Starmer says you must read

Will Hutton’s This Time No Mistakes surveys the thinking that could solve Britain’s ills.

John Milbank is a theologian, philosopher and poet. A co-founder of the Radical Orthodoxy movement, he is an Emeritus Professor of the University of Nottingham.

Kier Starmer sits on a sofa, leaning forward and holding papers he is reading. Rachel Reaves sits and looks on.
Starmer and Reeves.
Labour Party

In the aftermath of a historic election, one could do worse than read Will Hutton’s second big ‘state of the nation book’, recently published. This Time No Mistakes is worth reading just for the succinctness and clarity of its politic-economic history of the United Kingdom since the industrial revolution, which it provides in its central chapters. Indeed, Keir Starmer says it is a ‘brilliant book... read it if you haven't already It may well take a sophisticated journalist to be able to do this so well: too often, even the best of academics cannot see the public wood for their private-obsessional trees.  

But it is doubly and mainly worth reading for Hutton’s prognosis of our ills and his recommendations for solving them. The new Labour government could do far worse than try to carry through Hutton’s proposals, which almost anyone of common sense and goodwill (including all Tories) ought readily to endorse. Indeed, if the next government managed to initiate even a half of what he suggests, this country could be placed back upon the right tracks.  

As to the history, which is crucial to the ultimate diagnosis: Hutton contends quite simply that Britain has been self-deceived by the peculiar nature of its industrial revolution, which was the first in history. It was largely a matter of private enterprise, partly enabled and later cushioned by empire, whose possession encouraged us to support an unqualified doctrine of free trade.  

However, all other nations, including the United States, both when they sought to catch up with the steam and rail revolution, and when they later co-pioneered the ones based on gas and electricity, and ultimately on nuclear and digital, from the outset depended much more upon state intervention to promote needed expertise, education and investment. The United Kingdom, by contrast, remained captivated by the mythical glory of its initial take-off.  

As a result, not just Conservative governments, but also Labour ones, right up to the New Labour one, and including the catastrophically misguided work of Margaret Thatcher (Hutton is admirably unqualified here) remained far too captivated by the norms of economic laissez-faire, ‘balancing the books’, a primacy of finance over production and obsessive Treasury concern with money, rather than productive wealth.  

The exceptions to this were the pre-World War one Liberal government and the post World War Two Labour one. Yet all the strong ideas implemented by the latter came from ‘New Liberal’ thinkers and not Labour ones: notably from Keynes and Beveridge. Labour on its own, by comparison, has tragically and disastrously oscillated between a desire to replace capitalism with some sort of command economy on the one hand, and simply leaving capitalism as it is, with a bit of welfare tinkering, on the other. More recently this has been seen in the contrast between Corbyn and Blair. 

It is at this juncture that Hutton proceeds to complement his political-economic diagnosis with a more purely political one. The split on the ‘progressive left’ is a catastrophe that has kept the Tories unfairly in power for much of a century. This split is both caused by and has prevented any reform of the first past the post voting system, which urgently needs to go.  

For this reason then, political economy and constitutional reform go together.  

As to the latter, we need proportional representation which would allow more reasoned debate instead of the inter-party squabble, alongside legally guaranteed local government and a different kind of informed, rather than overweening executive.  

As to the former, we need flexible planning, public-private partnership in investment, a national wealth fund, sectional trade union bargaining, the breaking up of cartels and monopolies and required social purpose and stakeholding, for every business and financial enterprise. 

One is tempted just to say hurray! But there are some historical and theoretical questions to be posed that may have hidden practical consequences.  

Better than trying to ‘balance’ the private and the collective, as if the self and society were in rivalry, is to take the more Continental (and early Blairite!) course of stressing that we are always ‘persons in relation’.

Hutton now backs Tawney besides Keynes. But do they say the same thing? For the latter, capitalism is a wild, amoral and dynamic beast that can nonetheless be politically tamed. In certain phases of the capitalist cycle only (as Hutton rightly sees) this will be about boosting demand, but in others it can mean lessening it and temporarily hurting workers.  

But Tawney, and Hutton clearly agrees with him, wanted a market economy permitting only useful and not merely acquisitive wealth. Given this ethical purpose it was for him possible for the market, aa a socialist market, to reach equilibrium, beyond extrinsic and always precarious state ‘management’.  

Just how precarious was seen in the 1970s. For Hutton, the lapse of Keynesianism in this decade was simply a matter of the triumph of the wrong ideas. To a large degree this is surely right, and yet it is not the whole story. Were it the latter, then neoliberalism might not have spread beyond Anglo-Saxon lands to Europe and South America.  

The other aspect is surely the reality that capitalism of its nature, as driven by the amoral search for profit, resists any prospect of a stable, social market. Achieving that and extending the corporatist order of negotiation between state, business and unions would have been the alternative way, instead of Hayekianism, to deal with ‘stagflation’. Rather than a competition between capital, labour and consumer for money that wasn’t there at the time, a fair division of spoils could have been consistently instituted by legally and culturally re-framing the firm and the market, something that would have immediately favoured a renewed degree of growth.  

Really, almost everything that Hutton writes indicates agreement with this sort of thing, including the recognition that of itself, capitalism is not actually dynamic (that comes from technology and culture) but tends to build up sterile finance in the interests of the few, rather than productive growth in the interests of the many. But in that case ‘ethical socialism’ is not just a set of ideals, as he tends to imply, but a mode of achievable practice.  

Similarly, a general mutualist national insurance approach to welfare, which he rightly favours, was not just a New Liberal advocacy as he claims, but deeply rooted in co-operative socialism and in Christian (especially Anglican) social thinking whose influence -- except silently in the case of Tawney -- goes unmentioned. Yet the very phrase ‘welfare state’ is Archbishop William Temple’s and Tawney’s social analysis, intended for the general public, concluded with an unabashed High Church ecclesiology! 

It is relevant here that Hutton speaks of the need to combine the ‘I’ with the ‘We’ and yet he clearly does not endorse just any old exercise of ‘individual agency’, even if he sometimes appears to do so, when defining the operation of the price mechanism as necessarily ‘wild’, after Adam Smith’s exclusion of commercial transactions from the immediate operation of social sympathy. Better than trying to ‘balance’ the private and the collective, as if the self and society were in rivalry, is to take the more Continental (and early Blairite!) course of stressing that we are always ‘persons in relation’ – at once within and outside each other, in a constant creative weave.  

Nothing could be further from Keynes’ despising of the proletariat and favouring of learned leisure, that John Ruskin’s revolutionary mystique of the artisanal. 

There are two deeper questions about Hutton’s approach. First, his excessive ‘idealism’, as with his analysis of the Seventies switch, may still underrate the difficulty of overcoming the power of entrenched interests – the need indeed not so much for class, as for popular warfare against plutocracy.  

Secondly, he tends to underplay a theoretical tension between secular and materialist thinkers, including New Liberals, on the one hand, and religious and Idealist thinkers like the first ‘New Liberal’, T.H Green on the other.  

The latter was much more like Alasdair Macintyre or Michael Sandel than like John Rawls, as Hutton claims: for by human ‘self-realisation’ he meant the ‘positive liberty’ of pursuing the objectively true ends of human flourishing: religious contemplation, artistic creation of genuine beauty, active citizen participation.  

By contrast, the secular New Liberals, including Keynes, tended to reduce the ethical good to the negative liberty of rights, private friendship and utility – often leading them to favour eugenics and to indulge in racism. Nothing could be further from Keynes’ despising of the proletariat and favouring of learned leisure, that John Ruskin’s revolutionary mystique of the artisanal.  

Hutton tends to express surprise that a Tory like Ruskin, or a reactionary like Carlyle, should have favoured the cause of the worker – and indeed in Ruskin’s case also espoused ‘communism’, as Hutton elides from the picture. But this is to fail to see how Tory Radicalism and even paternalism is actually a third strand in the kind of transformative thinking that we continue to need, was always a crucial influence on Labour and was a crucial element of the postwar settlement.  

If these thinkers indeed favoured ‘hierarchy’, then that was in part because they wanted more interpersonal and mediated chains of command, rather than brutally centralised and mechanical ones. Surely Hutton wants that also, as his excellent reservations about the use of Artificial Intelligence would indicate? 

There is a recognition that economic individualism usually ‘on the right’ is actually matched and encouraged by a cultural individualism usually ‘on the left’. 

This is perhaps the limit of talking in terms of ‘progressive’ versus ‘conservative’. Hutton harks back to the norms of the Enlightenment. Yet, as Richard Whatmore has shown, all the great British enlightenment thinkers came to think that pure enlightenment was failing.  

They saw its anti-religious fanaticism stance as challenged by the rise of new secular, nationalist and direct democratic fanaticisms, as supremely with the French Revolution. By ‘populism’, as we might now say! 

But they also already recognised that the breakdown of a rational peace had been encouraged by excessive consumer greed and by the over-implication of commerce in state borrowing (whose pre-enabling of industry in Britain, Hutton does not mention) and so also in war and empire.  

It was exactly in this context that the enlightenment thinker Edmund Burke began to consider the virtues of the longer-term embedding of enlightenment in Christianity and the importance of the medieval ‘gothic’ legacy of a corporate order binding social body to social body, rather than individual to individual via contract, mediated by the market and backed up by the state.  

In Burke’s wake, for example with the radical William Cobbett, much of the Nineteenth Century critique of economism, to which Hutton is the heir, was of a ‘Romantic’ and often ‘neo-medieval’ rather than purely enlightenment cast. (Hutton at times wrongly reads medieval ‘feudalism’ as ‘absolutist’ – a specifically early modern phenomenon.) This matters, because this tradition contains a stronger recognition that the centralising state (which the Enlightenment favoured as a substitute for the Church) can be just as alienating and anti-social as the uprooting market – even if, as Karl Polanyi later saw, one needs the power of the state today in order to restore the primacy of the social and of inter-human fellowship.  

Within the same current, there is a recognition that economic individualism usually ‘on the right’ is actually matched and encouraged by a cultural individualism usually ‘on the left’. And here Hutton is perhaps inconsistent – he definitely sees this, mentioning the dubious overriding of the universal by identitarian concerns,  and yet also recognises it somewhat uneasily, as it challenges certain ‘progressivist’ assumptions. 

 As a result, he rather disallows the validity of some populist concerns – ironically rather like the incomprehension of the older enlightenment in the face of the new revolutionary era. For example, concerns with the normative primacy of the heterosexual family and the enabling of family and children, with regional and national identity, with the academic ‘woke’ trashing of the entire Western legacy, with the exploitation and cultural disruption of excessive immigration, with ecological policies that simply override current human needs while doing little to assist the future of nature.  

The danger of these partial blind spots could be a continued failure of the roughly ‘communitarian’ Left, or the sensible Right, to win over the mass of the people to their cause. For they must be won over if not just the United Kingdom, but humanity as a whole, is to have a decent future.  

Towards building that future, no one has contributed more, or more valiantly, than Will Hutton.  

  

 

Review
Culture
Film & TV
Monsters
8 min read

Here's why E.T. is in my list of top Halloween films

What Halloween films reveal about our fears, our families, and our fondness for the ridiculous
A child and E.T. ride a BMX bike across a moon lit sky.
Universal Pictures.

 

Halloween can be exhausting these days. As we continue to import and cement more and more of the American cultural experience, and as I age into maturity and (especially) fatherhood, I find myself spending All Hallow’s Eve in two ways (neither of which is prayer and meditation of the hallowed Saints of the Church, or the Faithful Departed Souls who now rest in Christ): I can take my daughter trick-or-treating, or I can stay home and desperately throw handfuls of sweets and the horde of children in fancy dress who arrive at my door. I always choose option A…I’m a priest…I have a ready-made costume. To aid in the convalescence necessary after such an exhausting evening, I have compiled by Top 5 Halloween Films. 

NOTE: This list is in no particular order, and the entries are not all horror films. In an effort to be ecumenical, and to bring solace to those of all temperaments and dispositions, I’ve taken my criteria as films set on, or around, Halloween. I hope there is at least one offering here that might intrigue and delight you. 

5. The Crow 

A supernatural superhero flick which has gained cult status, this film kicks off the list in style. What style, you ask? The inimitable style of the 90s. Eric Draven and his fiancée are murdered on ‘Devil Night’ (also known as ‘Mischief Night’), on the eve of their Halloween wedding, leaving a distraught Sarah – the young girl they care for. One year later, Eric is resurrected by the spirit of the Crow, who shepherds souls to the afterlife, and resurrects those who die by evil and violence as undead warriors with a mission to find revenge and, perhaps…peace? Certainly not to begin with!  

This film is perfect Halloween fare for those who want the grit and vibe of the holiday without actually having to engage with real fear. The 90s was a decade of looking and sounding edgy without any commitment: the decade of bark, not bite. Brandon Lee (who died during filming in a prop accident – a star in the making, taken too soon) looks terrific as Eric Draven/The Crow, covered in black leather and face paint, excelling at fight and stunt choreography, and towing the line of camp perfectly. The setting is moody darkness and rain and neon, and gothic gargoyles! The music underpins the atmosphere superbly…I mean…the title track is by The Cure! It goes hell for leather in a deliciously pantomimesque fashion and is well worth a watch for spooky fun without the fear. 

4. Halloween II 

The unwanted sibling. The sequel that was never meant to happen. It is unclear to me quite what it was that forced John Carpenter and Debra Hill back to the writing room (perhaps the threat that this sequel would happen with or without them), but it certainly wasn’t passion for the project! Carpenter has described the writing process as one where he essentially had to be drunk to get through it. I must say, if this is the case, it doesn’t show! Halloween II picks up right where the original ends, Laurie Strode (Jamie Lee Curtis) is catatonic after surviving the Haddonfield Halloween night massacre and is immediately transported to hospital. The murderous Michael Myers has disappeared after being shot by his psychiatrist, Dr Loomis (Donald Pleasance returning with the most delightfully hammy performance…in fact with the whole back half of the pig), and now Loomis is back on the hunt. It is all leading to a blood-soaked showdown in Haddonfield Memorial Hospital, and the most contrived plot-twist in horror history; necessary, Carpenter says, for any of this forced sequel (to a perfectly conceived standalone film) to make sense. It isn’t a patch on its progenitor, but it is far better than it deserves to be, allows you to spend some more time with beloved characters, cranks everything up to 11, and is a guilty pleasure of mine – me, a man of taste and refinement, a connoisseur of the creepy, a gentleman in the gathering of the ghoulish. 

3. E.T. 

One for the kids now, especially for those children who find Halloween a bit too much. This is the film that proved Steven Spielberg isn’t just a good filmmaker – he is one of the finest ever to pick up a camera, able to master any story in any genre. E.T. is a small alien who is separated from his group on a routine mission to collect plant samples from Earth. He is taken in by a young boy, Elliot, and protected from the government agents trying to capture him. Over the coming days the two bond, developing an odd empathic link that gives Elliot confidence in school, and gives the two much joy and laughter at home. Soon it is time for E.T. to ‘phone home’ and return to his own planet. Naturally this escape attempt takes place on Halloween, so that the little gremlin-like creature can wear a bedsheet without attracting unwanted attention. After several near escapes form the law, E.T. and Elliot have a goodbye so emotional and poignant that I dare you to watch this with your little ones and not cry…go on…I DARE YOU! E.T. is everything a children’s story should be, and has everything it should have: aliens, coming-of-age shenanigans, clueless parents, a chase with levitating bicycles. It is perfect, and perfectly gentle for a Halloween wind down as a family.  

2. Batman Forever 

Now, I was thirteen when Batman Begins was released; a man of grey-hair and wrinkled visage by the standards of comic books. As a result, Christian Bale is not my Batman – the raspy voice just grates on me! Michael Keaton is my Batman, and is, to this day, the best Batman. However, none of the Keaton films have a Halloween setting as far as I’m aware, so I’m going to recommend the Val Kilmer take on the caped cruder. Kilmer is the billionaire bad-boy Bruce Wayne, a mask he wears to hide his true identity as the crime fighter Batman. Tommy Lee Jones is the once upstanding prosecutor Harvey Dent, who went mad after having acid thrown in his face, and has become the supervillain Two-Face. Jim Carrey plays Edward Nygma, a scientific genius who is researching a technology to send TV signals directly to the brain – research that Bruce Wayne shuts down due to its potential for mind control. Nygma takes on the guise of The Riddler, and he and Two-Face begin to commit a series of robberies to fund the research and, eventually, take down Batman. Their plan culminates on Halloween night, which might explain why no one questions maniacs in ridiculous costume running around Gotham City.  

If you think The Crow is camp (which it is) you haven’t seen anything yet. The gothic is more gothicky, the leather is more leathery, the neon will burn the eyes right out of your skull, and I’m not sure if you can get more 90s than a gurning Jim Carrey menacing Nicole Kidman while Val Kilmer smoulders in anger. If you can keep a secret…I know this film is rubbish, but it was the ‘latest’ Batman film as I was growing up, and I actually really like it, and it brings back so many memories of my childhood, excitedly sitting in front of the telly to watch the action for the fiftieth time. Highly recommended, for the sheer operatic silliness of the film alone – and what is Halloween for if not operatic silliness? 

1. Halloween 

Of course this was going to be on the list. This is THE Halloween film. This is so much a part of the cultural memory that I’m not sure I even need to give a plot synopsis or explain my recommendation. Instead, I could just list the people involved and leave it at that. John Carpenter writing (with Debra Hill), directing, doing the music, probably making the cast’s lunch and everything else! Jamie Lee Curtis in the lead, essentially creating the ‘final-girl’ trope of the slasher flick, and doing it so brilliantly that it has only ever been imitated but never topped. Donald Pleasance…is also there. I can’t quite describe his performance: is it a genius deconstruction of trope and cliché in a valiant attempt to understand the warring forces of light and darkness in the human heart, or is it the work of a man who missed the lunch Carpenter prepared and so has decided to devour the scenery instead? He is bonkers – and I’m here for it! 

Curtis is Laurie Strode, an innocent and virginal (vitally important in the mythos of what becomes the ‘final girl’) high schooler, who will be spending Halloween night babysitting Tommy Doyle while her friends do – ahem – what teenagers do. Honestly, they couldn’t have picked a worse time or place to engage in underaged drinking and pre-marital sex. Haddonfield on Halloween night in 1978 is essentially an abattoir for the morally flexible teen. Because…Michael Myers is on the prowl. Introduced at the start of the film (in a POV shot that has stood the test of time for its chill and shock factor!) as a six-year-old boy who inexplicably stabs his sister to death on Halloween. He is committed to an asylum under the care of Pleasance’s Dr Loomis. On Halloween night, 15 years later, he escapes. Loomis, who’s time with Michael has turned him into a different type of madman, is horrified and starts hunting Michael, accosting innocent children, and all the while screaming about ‘THE EVIL HAS ESCAPED’…he also wonders why the police don’t take him seriously. 

Michael stalks Laurie and her friends, picking them off one-by-one, until only Laurie is left to fight and survive. The film is perfectly taught and lean and coiled: the tension ratchets and ratchets and ratchets until you don’t think you can take anymore. What makes this one of the finest horror films, and my favourite one to watch on Halloween night itself, is its simplicity. Michael Myers has no explanation. Why he killed his sister, why he hunts Laurie, how he is so strong and fast and seemingly invulnerable. He simply is. He happens. He is a force of nature that has no discernible cause or motive. Sometimes evil is like this, and I find my annual viewing of Halloween a tremendous restorative – a reminder of an age when the horror movies didn’t spoon-feed you backstory and explanations…they just gave you damn-good scares! 

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