England sleeps, England awakes, England drinks
What links A. J. P. Taylor to last night at the Azteca?
If one ever wants a small glimpse of paradise, turn to the first page of A. J. P. Taylor’s English History, 1914-1945. Since it is a superlative passage in one of the finest histories ever written, the opening section on an Englishman’s liberties before the First World War deserves quoting in full.
“Until August 1914 a sensible, law-abiding Englishman could pass through life and hardly notice the existence of the state, beyond the post office and the policeman. He could live where he liked and as he liked. He had no official number or identity card. He could travel abroad or leave his country for ever without a passport or any sort of official permission. He could exchange his money for any other currency without restriction or limit. He could buy goods from any country in the world on the same terms as he bought goods at home. For that matter, a foreigner could spend his life in this country without permit and without informing the police.
Unlike the countries of the European continent, the state did not require its citizens to perform military service. An Englishman could enlist, if he chose, in the regular army, the navy, or the territorials. He could also ignore, if he chose, the demands of national defence. Substantial householders were occasionally called on for jury service. Otherwise, only those helped the state, who wished to do so. The Englishman paid taxes on a modest scale: nearly £200 million in 1913-14, or rather less than 8 per cent. of the national income.
The state intervened to prevent the citizen from eating adulterated food or contracting certain infectious diseases. It imposed safety rules in factories, and prevented women, and adult males in some industries, from working excessive hours. The state saw to it that children received education up to the age of 13. Since 1 January 1909, it provided a meagre pension for the needy over the age of 70. Since 1911, it helped to insure certain classes of workers against sickness and unemployment. This tendency towards more state action was increasing. Expenditure on the social services had roughly doubled since the Liberals took office in 1905. Still, broadly speaking, the state acted only to help those who could not help themselves. It left the adult citizen alone.”
For those of a broadly libertarian description – which, one hopes, encompasses rather a few of our readers – this should all sound like heaven: a limited state, low taxes and a free Englishman able to broadly do what he liked, where he liked, when he liked. But this was before the Fall. As Taylor charts in his own glorious fashion, the First World War changed all this. The Government was forced to intervene to introduce everything from conscription, to passports, to punishing and unprecedented levels of taxation. Such were the demands of Total War. Even if some of the Great War’s greatest burdens have been lifted, we have never return to this prelapsarian Eden.
One particularly egregious consequence of the war - along with the millions dead, obviously - was the introduction of the closure of pubs in the afternoon and evening, in a hope that it would prevent munitions workers from imbibing during their shifts. The law would stay in place for over 70 years, until the Licensing Act 1988 allowed continuous opening hours from 11 am to 11 pm. The Licensing Act 2003 then further liberalised opening hours and prompted warnings of ’24-hour drinking’. But it did not lead to increased binge drinking, violent crime or drink-drinking as its critics feared, as our own Christopher Snowdon has long since charted. Nonetheless, I imagine there will be a few readers enjoying this with thick heads this morning, who indulged, at Keir Starmer’s behest, in last night’s football lock-ins.
Looking back on Taylor’s opening, one can’t help but be reminded of 1966 – the high-point, the fixed-point, the point-of-decline, the point-to-never-be-reached again, the point-we-all-remember. Last night’s result may have been worth staying up for; it may have been worth a hangover. Your editor can’t say. He has a cold; he was in bed at 10.
But just as sixty-odd years of hurt is no sign that football will never come home again, our failure to return to the almost-alien world of pre-war England is not a suggestion that fighting to restore our long-list freedoms is romantic or hopeless. As the unfortunately named Aztec Camera put it in their classic ‘Good Morning Britain’: ‘The past is steeped in shame/But tomorrow’s fair game’. A shame they were Scots.
We’ve been thinking about the past and future a lot so far at Economic Affairs. Our opening article harkened back to the Dark Ages. Matt Ridley’s column explored the most important event in 1776, whatever our Yankee friends or Adam Smith enthusiasts believe. Alys Denby charted how SpaceX point towards mankind’s future, whatever one makes of Elon Musk. Whatever the future holds for English liberties (and English football), Economic Affairs will be charting it.
What we’re reading
Waving Yimbyebye. For Arguably, David Lawrence has argued that Britain’s YIMBY movement has damaged its own case for we need more homes through poor political strategy. Identifying three key mistakes – unnecessary conflicts with environmental campaigners, a misguided focus on where to build, and becoming too close to big property developers – the movement has failed to convince the country. YIMBYs need to win public support through win-win solutions, not confrontation.
Something must break. Meanwhile, in his Sunday Telegraph column, our Director General has suggested that Andy Burnham has a rare chance to tackle one of Britain’s deepest structural problems: the excessive concentration of power in Whitehall. But while Burnham’s commitment to shifting a bit more power Oop North is welcome, meaningful devolution must mean transferring genuine fiscal and democratic responsibility – just as Valentin Boboc argued for Economic Affairs last week.
Step on. Sticking with Arr Andy, Pimlico Journal have reviewed Head North, the book the former Manchester Mayor co-authored with Steve Rotherham, his Liverpool equivalent. They contend Burnham’s enthusiasm for devolution relies on historically inaccurate views of country like Germany, ignores the inadequacies of Britain’s pre-existing local authorities, and accompanies Burnham’s alleged disinterest in the grooming gangs scandal. Aside from that, Mrs Lincoln, how was the show?
North-South divide. Considering the shenanigans in both North and South America in recent days, why not read Anthony DePalma’s piece on the reasons behind the striking divergence in development between the two different halves of the American continent. DePalma suggests they are rooted far less in geography or natural bounties that in the contrasting political cultures between those parts settled by Brits and those by the Spanish and Portuguese. We didn’t just invent football, but freedom too.
Spudding on the Ritz. As is their wont, the New Scientist bring exciting news from the world of innovation: this time, the SpudCell, a synthetic cell built from non-living chemical components that can carry out most of the fundamental processes of life. This breakthrough could upend medicine, enabling scientists to better understand the building blocks of existence, and work towards creating tailor-made biological drugs, materials and fuels. But synthetic life remains a long way off, Blade Runner fans.