In my last post I referred to Dan Wang’s excellent new book, Breakneck, which I have now read at (for me) breakneck speed, finishing it in a week. It has made me realise how very little I knew about China.

Wang makes the point that China today is reminiscent of the US of a century ago. However he also makes the point that parts of the US were terrible to live in then: from racist segregation and lack of representation, to massive industrial pollution and insensitive planning decisions. As he says of the US:

The public soured on the idea of broad deference to US technocrats and engineers: urban planners (who were uprooting whole neighborhoods), defense officials (who were prosecuting the war in Vietnam), and industry regulators (who were cozying up to companies).

China meanwhile has a Politburo stuffed with engineers and is capable of making snap decisions without much regard to what people want. There is a sense of precarity about life there, with people treated as aggregates rather than as individuals. The country can take off in different directions very quickly and often does – there is a telling passage about the totally different life experiences of someone born in 1959 compared to someone born in 1949 (the worst year to be born in China according to Wang) – and even the elites can be dealt with brutally if they fall out of line with the current direction of travel. But they have created some impressive infrastructure, something which has become problematic for the US. Only around 10% of its GDP goes towards social spending, compared to 20% in the US and 30% amongst some European states, so there is no effective safety net. Think of the US portrayed in (as Christmas is fast approaching) “It’s a Wonderful Life” – a life that is hard to the point of brutality with destitution only one mistake away. And there is a level of social control alien to the west, controlling where people can live and work and very repressive of ethnoreligious minorities. And yet there is a feeling of progress and forward momentum which appears to be popular with most people in China.

As Wang notes at the end of his introduction:

“Breakneck” is the story of the Chinese state that yanked its people into modernity – an action rightfully envied by much of the world – using means that ran roughshod over many – an approach rightfully disdained by much of the world. It is also a reminder that the United States once knew the virtues of speed and ambitious construction.

The chapter on the one child policy, which ran for 35 years, is particularly chilling (China announced its first population fall in 2023 and its population is projected to halve to 700 million by 2100), and now the pressure is on women to have more children again. There is also a chapter on how China dealt with Covid – Wang experienced this first hand from Shanghai for 3 years – which made me understand perhaps why we wasted so much money in the UK on Track and Trace. You would need to be an engineering state to see it through successfully, and China ended up taking it too far in the end.

The economics of China is really interesting. As Wang notes:

China’s overbuilding has produced deep social, financial and environmental costs. The United States has no need to emulate it uncritically. But the Chinese experience does offer political lessons for America. China has shown that financial constraints are less binding than they are cracked up to be. As John Maynard Keynes said, “Anything we can actually do we can afford.” For an infrastructure-starved place like the United States, construction can generate long-run gains from higher economic activity that eventually surpass the immediate construction costs. And the experience of building big in underserved places is a means of redistribution that makes locals happy while satisfying fiscal conservatives who are normally skeptical of welfare payments.

This goes just as much for the UK, where pretty much everywhere outside London is infrastructure-starved (and, as Nicholas Shaxson and John Christensen show here in their written evidence to a UK Parliamentary Committee, even where infrastructure is built outside London, the financing of it sucks money away from the area where the infrastructure is being built and towards finance centres, predominantly in London), but there is also strong resistance from all the main parties to significant redistribution via the benefit system. This results in inequalities which even the FT feels moved to comment on and a map of multiple deprivation in England which looks like this:

The good news is that it doesn’t have to be this way in the UK, there are prominent examples of countries operating in a different way, eg China. The bad news is that China is not doing it because of economics. They are doing it because the state was set up to build big from the beginning. It is in its nature. The lesson of China is that it will keep doing the same things whatever the situation (eg trying to fix the population fall caused by an engineering solution with another engineering solution). Sometimes the world economy will reward their approach and sometimes it will punish it, but that will not be the primary driver for how they behave. I think this may be true of the US, the EU states and the UK too.

Daniel Kahneman showed us in Thinking Fast and Slow, how most of our mental space is used to rationalise decisions we have already taken. One of the places where I part company with Wang is in his reverence for economists. He believes that the US should listen more to both engineers and economists to challenge the lawyerly society.

In the foreword for The Principles of Economics Course from 1990 by Phillip Saunders and William Walstad, Paul Samuelson, the first person from the US to win the Nobel Memorial Prize in Economic Sciences in 1970, wrote:

“Poets are the unacknowledged legislators of the World.” It was a poet who said that, exercising occupational license. Some sage, it may have been I, declared in similar vein: “I don’t care who writes a nation’s laws—or crafts its advanced treaties—if I can write its economic textbooks.” The first lick is the privileged one, impinging on the beginner’s tabula rasa at its most impressionable state.

My view would be that the economists are already in charge.

As a result, my fear is that economics is now used for rationalising decisions we have already made in many countries now, including our own. We are going to do what we are going to do. The economics is just the fig leaf we use to rationalise what may otherwise appear unfair, cruel, divisive and hope-denying policies. The financial constraints are less than they are cracked up to be, but they are a convenient fiction for a government which lacks any guiding principles for spending and investment otherwise and therefore fears that everyone would just be asking for more resources in its absence, and they would have no way of deciding between them.

New (left) and old (right) Naiku shrines during the 60th sengu at Ise Jingu, 1973, via Bock 1974

In his excellent new book, Breakneck, Dan Wang tells the story of the high-speed rail links which started to be constructed in 2008 between San Francisco and Los Angeles and between Beijing and Shanghai respectively. Both routes would be around 800 miles long when finished. The Beijing-Shanghai line opened in 2011 at a cost of $36 billion. To date, California has built only a small stretch of their line, as yet nowhere near either Los Angeles or San Francisco, and the latest estimate of the completed bill is $128 billion. Wang uses this, amongst other examples to draw a distinction between the engineering state of China “building big at breakneck speed” and the lawyerly society of the United States “blocking everything it can, good and bad”.

Europe doesn’t get much of a mention, other than to be described as a “mausoleum”, which sounds rather JD Vance and there is quite a lot about this book that I disagree with strongly, which I will return to. However there is also much to agree with in this book, and none more so than when Wang talks about process knowledge.

Wang tells another story, of Ise Jingu in Japan. Every 20 years exact copies of Naiku, Geku, and 14 other shrines here are built on vacant adjacent sites, after which the old shrines are demolished. Altogether 65 buildings, bridges, fences, and other structures are rebuilt this way. They were first built in 690. In 2033, they will be rebuilt for the 63rd time. The structures are built each time with the original 7th century techniques which involve no nails, just dowels and wood joints. Staff have a 200 year tree planting plan to ensure enough cypress trees are planted to make the surrounding forest self-sufficient. The 20 year intervals between rebuilding are the length of the generations, the older passing on the techniques to the younger.

This, rather like the oral tradition of folk stories and songs, which were passed on by each generation as contemporary narratives until they were all written down and fixed in time so that they quickly appeared old-fashioned thereafter, is an extreme example of process knowledge. What is being preserved is not the Trigger’s Broom of temples at Ise Jingu, but the practical knowledge of how to rebuild them as they were originally built.

Trigger’s Broom. Source: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BUl6PooveJE

Process knowledge is the know-how of your experienced workforce that cannot easily be written down. It can develop where such a workforce work closely with researchers and engineers to create feedback loops which can also accelerate innovation. Wang contrasts Shenzhen in China where such a community exists, with Silicon Valley where it doesn’t, forcing the United States to have such technological wonders as the iPhone manufactured in China.

What happens when you don’t have process knowledge? Well one example would be our nuclear industry, where lack of experience of pressurised water reactors has slowed down the development of new power stations and required us to rely considerably on French expertise. There are many other technical skill shortages.

China has recognised the supreme importance of process knowledge as compared to the American concern with intellectual property (IP). IP can of course be bought and sold as a commodity and owned as capital, whereas process knowledge tends to rest within a skilled workforce.

This may then be the path to resilience for the skilled workers of the future in the face of the AI-ification of their professions. Companies are being sold AI systems for many things at the moment, some of which will clearly not work with few enough errors, or without so much “human validation” (a lovely phrase a good friend of mine actively involved in integrating AI systems into his manufacturing processes used recently) that they are not deemed practical. For early career workers entering these fields the demonstration of appropriate process knowledge, or the ability to develop it very quickly, may be the key to surviving the AI roller coaster they face over the next few years. Actionable skills and knowledge which allow them to manage such systems rather than being managed by them. To be a centaur rather than a reverse-centaur.

Not only will such skills make you less likely to lose your job to an AI system, they will also increase your value on the employment market: the harder these skills and knowledge are to acquire, the more valuable they are likely to be. But whereas in the past, in a more static market, merely passing your exams and learning coding might have been enough for an actuarial student for instance, the dynamic situation which sees everything that can be written down disappearing into prompts in some AI system will make such roles unprotected.

Instead it will be the knowledge about how people are likely to respond to what you say in a meeting or write in an email or report, and the skill to strategise around those things, knowing what to do when the rules run out, when situations are genuinely novel, ie putting yourself in someone else’s shoes and being prepared to make judgements. It will be the knowledge about what matters in a body of data, putting the pieces together in meaningful ways, and the skills to make that obvious to your audience. It will be the knowledge about what makes everyone in your team tick and the skills to use that knowledge to motivate them to do their best work. It will ultimately be about maintaining independent thought: the knowledge of why you are where you are and the skill to recognise what you can do for the people around you.

These have not always been seen as entry level skills and knowledge for graduates, but they are increasingly going to need to be as the requirement grows to plug you in further up an organisation if at all as that organisation pursues its diamond strategy or something similar. And alongside all this you will need a continuing professional self-development programme on steroids going on to fully understand the systems you are working with as quickly as possible and then understand them all over again when they get updated, demanding evidence and transparency and maintaining appropriate uncertainty when certainty would be more comfortable for the people around you, so that you can manage these systems into the areas where they can actually add value and out of the areas where they can cause devastation. It will be more challenging than transmitting the knowledge to build a temple out of hay and wood 20 years into the future, and will be continuous. Think of it as the Trigger’s Broom Process of Career Management if you like.

These will be essential roles for our economic future: to save these organisations from both themselves and their very expensive systems. It will be both enthralling and rewarding for those up to the challenge.

Wallace & Gromit: Vengeance Most Fowl models on display in Bristol. This file is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International license.

I have been watching Daniel Susskind’s lectures on AI and the future of work this week: Automation Anxiety was delivered in September and The Economics of Work and Technology earlier this week. The next in the series, entitled Economics and Artificial Intelligence is scheduled for 13 January. They are all free and I highly recommend them for their great range of source material presented.

In my view the most telling graph, which featured in both lectures, was this one:

Original Source: Daniel Susskind A World Without Work

Susskind extended the usual concept of the ratio between average college and university graduate salaries to those of school leavers to include the equivalent ratio of craftsmen to labourers which then gives us data back to 1220. There are two big collapses in this ratio in the data: that following the Black Death (1346-1353), which may have killed 50% of Europe’s 14th century population, and the Industrial Revolution (which slow singularity started around 1760 and then took us through the horrors of the First World War and the Great Depression before the graph finally picks up post Bretton Woods).

As Susskind shows, the profits from the Industrial Revolution were not going to workers:

Source: The Technology Trap, Carl Benedikt Frey

So how is the AI Rush comparing? Well Susskind shared another graph:

Source: David Autor Work of the Past, Work of the future

This, from 2019, introduced the idea that the picture is now more complex than high-skilled and low-skilled workers, now there is a middle. And, as Autor has set out more recently, the middle is getting squeezed:

Key dynamics at play include:

  • Labor Share Decline: OECD data reveal a 3–5 percentage point drop in labor’s share of income in sectors most exposed to AI, a trend likely to accelerate as automation deepens.
  • Wage Polarization: The labor market is bifurcating. On one end, high-complexity “sense-making” roles; on the other, low-skill service jobs. The middle is squeezed, amplifying both political risk and regulatory scrutiny.
  • Productivity Paradox 2.0: Despite the promise of AI-driven efficiency, productivity gains remain elusive. The real challenge is not layering chatbots atop legacy processes, but re-architecting workflows from the ground up—a costly and complex endeavor.

For enterprise leaders, the implications are profound. AI is best understood not as a job destroyer, but as a “skill-lowering” platform. It enables internal labor arbitrage, shifting work toward judgment-intensive, context-rich tasks while automating the rest. The risk is not just technological—it is deeply human. Skill depreciation now sits alongside cyber and climate risk on the board agenda, demanding rigorous workforce-reskilling strategies and a keen eye on brand equity as a form of social license.

So, even if the overall number of jobs may not be reduced, the case being made is that the average skill level required to carry them out will be. As Susskind said, the Luddites may have been wrong about the spinning jenny replacing jobs, but it did replace and transform tasks and its impact on workers was to reduce their pay, quality of work, status as craftsmen and economic power. This looks like the threat being made by employers once again, with real UK wages already still only at the level they were at in 2008:

However this is where I part company with Susskind’s presentation, which has an implicit inevitability to it. The message is that these are economic forces we can’t fight against. When he discusses whether the substituting force (where AI replaces you) or the complementing force (where AI helps you to be more productive and increases the demand for your work) will be greater, it is almost as if we have no part to play in this. There is some cognitive dissonance when he quotes Blake, Engels, Marx and Ruskin about the horrors of living through such times, but on the whole it is presented as just a natural historical process that the whole of the profits from the massive increases in productivity of the Industrial Revolution should have ended up in the pockets of the fat guys in waistcoats:

Richard Arkwright, Sir Robert Peel, John Wilkinson and Josiah Wedgwood

I was recently at Cragside in Northumberland, where the arms inventor and dealer William Armstrong used the immense amount of money he made from selling big guns (as well as big cranes and the hydraulic mechanism which powers Tower Bridge) to decking out his house and grounds with the five artificial lakes required to power the world’s first hydro-electric lighting system. His 300 staff ran around, like good reverse-centaurs, trying to keep his various inventions from passenger lifts to an automated spit roast from breaking down, so that he could impress his long list of guests and potential clients to Cragside, from the Shah of Persia to the King of Siam and two future Prime Ministers of Japan. He made sure they were kept running around with a series of clock chimes throughout the day:

However, with some poetic irony, the “estate regulator” is what has since brought the entire mechanism crashing to a halt:

Which brings me to Wallace and Gromit. Wallace is the inventor, heedless of the impact of his inventions on those around him and especially on his closest friend Gromit, who he regularly dumps when he becomes inconvenient to his plans. Gromit just tries to keep everything working.

Wallace is a cheese-eating monster who cannot be assessed purely on the basis of his inventions. And neither can Armstrong, Arkwright, Peel, Wilkinson or Wedgwood. We are in the process of allowing a similar domination of our affairs by our new monsters:

Meta CEO Mark Zuckerberg beside Amazon CEO Jeff Bezos and his fiancée (now wife) Lauren, Google CEO Sundar Pichai and Elon Musk at President Trump’s 2nd Inauguration.

Around half an hour into his second lecture, Daniel Susskind started talking about pies. This is the GDP pie (Susskind has also written a recent book on Growth: A Reckoning, which argues that GDP growth can go on forever – my view would be closer to the critique here from Steve Keen) which, as Susskind says, increased by a factor of 113 in the UK between 1700 and 2000. But, as Steve Keen says:

The statistics strongly support Jevons’ perspective that energy—and specifically, energy from coal—caused rising living standards in the UK (see Figure 2). Coal, and not a hypothesised change in culture, propelled the rise in living standards that Susskind attributes to intangible ideas.

Source: https://www.themintmagazine.com/growth-some-inconvenient-truths/

Susskind talks about the productivity effect, he talks about the bigger pie effect and then he talks about the changing pie effect (ie changes to the types of work we do – think of the changes in the CPI basket of goods and services) as ways in which jobs are created by technological change. However he has nothing to say about just giving less of the pie to the monsters. Instead for Susskind the AI Rush is all about clever people throwing 10 times the amount of money at AI as was directed at the Manhattan Project and the heads of OpenAI, Anthropic and Google DeepMind stating that AI will replace humans in all economically useful tasks in 10 years, a claim which he says we should take seriously. Cory Doctorow, amongst others, disagrees. In his latest piece, When AI prophecy fails, he has this to say about why companies have reduced recruitment despite the underperformance of AI systems to date:

All this can feel improbable. Would bosses really fire workers on the promise of eventual AI replacements, leaving themselves with big bills for AI and falling revenues as the absence of those workers is felt?

The answer is a resounding yes. The AI industry has done such a good job of convincing bosses that AI can do their workers’ jobs that each boss for whom AI fails assumes that they’ve done something wrong. This is a familiar dynamic in con-jobs.

The Industrial Revolution had a distribution problem which gave birth to Chartism, Marxism, the Trades Union movement and the Labour Party in the UK alone. And all of that activity only very slowly chipped away at the wealth share of the top 10%:

Source: https://equalitytrust.org.uk/scale-economic-inequality-uk/

However the monsters of the Industrial Revoution did at least have solid proof that they could deliver what they promised. You don’t get more concrete a proof of concept than this after all:

View on the Thames and the opening Tower Bridge, London, from the terraces at Wapping High Street, at sunset in July 2013, Bert Seghers. This file is made available under the Creative Commons CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication.

The AI Rush has a similar distribution problem, but it is also the first industrial revolution since the global finance industry decoupled from the global real economy. So the wealth share of the Top 10% isn’t going back up fast enough? No problem. Just redistribute the money at the top even further up:

What the monsters of the AI Rush lack is anything tangible to support their increasingly ambitious assertions. Wallace may be full of shit. And the rest of us can all just play a Gromit-like support role until we find out one way or the other or concentrate on what builds resilient communities instead.

Whether you think the claims for the potential of AI are exaggerated; or that the giant bet on it that the US stock market has made will end in an enormous depression; or that the energy demands of this developing technology will be its constraining force ultimately; or that we are all just making the world a colder place by prioritising systems, however capable, over people: take your pick as a reason to push back against the AI Rush. But my bet would be on the next 10 years not being dominated by breathless commentary on the exploits of Tech Bros.

The warehouse at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark

In the year when I was born, Malvina Reynolds recorded a song called Little Boxes when she was a year younger than I am now. If you haven’t heard it before, you can listen to it here. You might want to listen to it while you read the rest of this.

I remember the first time I felt panic during the pandemic. It was a couple of months in, we had been working very hard: to put our teaching processes online, consulting widely about appropriate remote assessments and getting agreement from the Institute and Faculty of Actuaries (IFoA) for our suggested approach at Leicester, checking in with our students, some of who had become very isolated as a result of lockdowns, and a million other things. I was just sitting at my kitchen table and suddenly I felt tears welling up and I was unable to speak without my voice breaking down. It happened at intervals after that, usually during a quiet moment when I, consciously or unconsciously, had a moment to reflect on the enormity of what was going on. I could never point to anything specific that triggered it, but I do know that it has been a permanent change about me, and that my emotions have been very much closer to the surface ever since. I felt something similar again this morning.

What is going on? Well I haven’t been able to answer that satisfactorily until now, but recently I read an article by David Runciman in the LRB from nine years ago when Donald Trump got elected POTUS the first time. I am not sure that everything in the article has withstood the test of time, but in it Runciman makes the case for Trump being the result of the people wanting “Trump to shake up a system that they also expected to shield them from the recklessness of a man like Trump.”. And this part looks prophetic:

[Trump is]…the bluntest of instruments, indiscriminately shaking the foundations with nothing to offer by way of support. Under these conditions, the likeliest response is for the grown-ups in the room to hunker down, waiting for the storm to pass. While they do, politics atrophies and necessary change is put off by the overriding imperative of avoiding systemic collapse. The understandable desire to keep the tanks off the streets and the cashpoints open gets in the way of tackling the long-term threats we face. Fake disruption followed by institutional paralysis, and all the while the real dangers continue to mount. Ultimately, that is how democracy ends.

And it suddenly hit me that this was something I had indeed taken for granted my whole life until the pandemic came along. The only thing that had ever looked like toppling society itself was the prospect of a nuclear war. Otherwise it seemed that our political system was hard to change and impossible to kill.

And then the pandemic came along and we saw government national and local digging mass graves and then filling them in again and setting aside vast arenas for people to die in before quietly closing them again. Rationing of food and other essentials was left to the supermarkets to administer, as were the massive snaking socially-distanced queues around their car parks. Seemingly arbitrary sets of rules suddenly started appearing at intervals about how and when we were allowed to leave the house and what we were allowed to do when out, and also how many people we could have in our houses and where they were allowed to come from. Most businesses were shut and their employees put on the government’s payroll. We learned which of us were key workers and spent a lot of time worrying about how we could protect the NHS, who we clapped every Thursday. It was hard to maintain the illusion that society still provided solid ground under our feet, particularly if we didn’t have jobs which could be moved online. Whoever you were you had to look down at some point, and I think now that I was having my Wile E. Coyote moment.

The trouble is, once you have looked down, it is hard to put that back in a box. At least I thought so, although there seems to have been a lot of putting things in boxes going on over the last few years. The UK Covid-19 Inquiry has made itself available online via a YouTube channel, but you might have thought that a Today at the Inquiry slot on terrestrial TV would have been more appropriate, not just covering it when famous people are attending. What we do know is that Patrick Vallance, Chief Scientific Advisor throughout the pandemic, has said that another pandemic is “absolutely inevitable” and that “we are not ready yet” for such an eventuality. Instead we have been busily shutting that particular box.

The biggest box of course is climate change. We have created a really big box for that called the IPCC. As the climate conferences migrate to ever more unapologetic petro-states, protestors are criminalised and imprisoned and emissions continue to rise, the box for this is doing a lot of work.

And then there are all the NHS boxes. As Roy Lilley notes:

If inquiries worked, we’d have the safest healthcare system in the world. Instead, we have a system addicted to investigating itself and forgetting the answers.

But perhaps the days of the box are numbered. The box Keir Starmer constructed to contain the anger about grooming gangs which the previous 7 year long box had been unable to completely envelop also now appears to be on the edge of collapse. And the Prime Minister himself was the one expressing outrage when a perfectly normal British box, versions of which had been giving authority to policing decisions since at least the Local Government (Review of Decisions) Act 2015 (although the original push to develop such systems stemmed from the Hillsborough and Heysel disasters in 1989 and 1985 respectively) suddenly didn’t make the decision he was obviously expecting. That box now appears to be heading for recycling if Reform UK come to power, which is, of course, rather difficult to do in Birmingham at the moment.

But what is the alternative to the boxes? At the moment it does not look like it involves confronting our problems any more directly. As Runciman reflected on the second Trump inauguration:

Poor Obama had to sit there on Monday and witness the mistaking of absolutism for principle and spectacle for politics. I don’t think Trump mistakes them – he doesn’t care enough to mind what passes for what. But the people in the audience who got up and applauded throughout his speech – as Biden and Harris and the Clintons and the Bushes remained glumly in their seats – have mistaken them. They think they will reap the rewards of what follows. But they will also pay the price.

David Allen Green’s recent post on BlueSky appears to summarise our position relative to that of the United States very well:

What comes next in the following sequence: 650, 400, 300, …? More on this in a minute.

I decided to make a little table with the help of the Oxford English Dictionary to summarise the usage of most of the words Eric Hobsbawm listed at the beginning of his Age of Revolution, 1789-1848. I have highlighted all of the meanings not in use until at least 1800 below:

IndustrySince 1500 it has had a meaning of productive work, trade, or manufacture. In later use esp.: manufacturing and production carried out on a commercial basis, typically organized on a large scale and requiring the investment of capital.
Since 1801–Manufacturing or production, and those involved in it, regarded as an entity, esp. owners or managers of companies, factories, etc., regarded as influential figures, esp. with regard to investment in an economy.
IndustrialistSince 1839 to denote a person engaged in or connected with industry
FactorySince 1618 A location or premises in which a product is manufactured; esp. a building or range of buildings with plant for the manufacture or assembly of goods or for the processing of substances or materials
Middle Class Since 1654 A class of society or social grouping between an upper and a lower (or working) class, usually regarded as including professional and business people and their families; (in singular and plural) the members of such a class. However only since 1836 Of, relating to, or designating the middle class. And only since 1846 Characteristic of the middle class; having the characteristics of the middle classes. Esp. in middle-class morality. Frequently derogatory
Working ClassSince 1757 A class of society or social grouping consisting of people who are employed for wages, esp. in unskilled or semi-skilled manual or industrial work, and their families, and which is typically considered the lowest class in terms of economic level and social status; (with the, in singular and plural) the members of such a class. However only since 1833 Of, belonging to, or characteristic of the working class.
CapitalistSince 1774 A person who possesses capital assets esp. one who invests these esp. for profit in financial and business enterprises. Also: an advocate of capitalism or of an economic system based on capitalism.
CapitalismSince 1833 The practices or principles of capitalists; the dominance of capitalists in financial and business enterprises; esp. an economic system based on wage labour in which the means of production is controlled by private or corporate interests for the purpose of profit, with prices determined largely by competition in a free market.
SocialismSince 1833 Frequently with capital initial. A theory or system of social organization based on state or collective ownership and regulation of the means of production, distribution, and exchange for the common benefit of all members of society; advocacy or practice of such a system, esp. as a political movement. Now also: any of various systems of liberal social democracy which retain a commitment to social justice and social reform, or feature some degree of state intervention in the running of the economy.
MarxismSince 1883 The ideas, theories, and methods of Karl Marx; esp. the political and economic theories propounded by Marx together with Friedrich Engels, later developed by their followers to form the basis for the theory and practice of communism.
AristocracySince 1561 it has had a meaning of In the literal sense of the Greek: The government of a state by its best citizens. Since 1651 The class to which such a ruling body belongs, a patrician order; the collective body of those who form a privileged class with regard to the government of their country; the nobles. The term is popularly extended to include all those who by birth or fortune occupy a position distinctly above the rest of the community, and is also used figuratively of those who are superior in other respects.
RailwaySince 1681 A roadway laid with rails (originally of wood, later also of iron or steel) along which the wheels of wagons or trucks may run, in order to facilitate the transport of heavy loads, originally and chiefly from a colliery; a wagonway. Since 1822 (despite the first railway not being opened until 1825) A line or track typically consisting of a pair of iron or steel rails, along which carriages, wagons, or trucks conveying passengers or goods are moved by a locomotive engine or other powered unit. Also: a network or organization of such lines; a company which owns, manages, or operates such a line or network; this form of transportation.
NationalitySince 1763 National origin or identity; (Law) the status of being a citizen or subject of a particular state; the legal relationship between a citizen and his or her state, usually involving obligations of support and protection; a particular national identity. Also: the legal relationship between a ship, aircraft, company, etc., and the state in which it is registered. Since 1832 group of persons belonging to a particular nation; a nation; an ethnic or racial group.
ScientistSince 1834 A person who conducts scientific research or investigation; an expert in or student of science, esp. one or more of the natural or physical sciences.
EngineerSince 1500 Originally: a person who designs or builds engines or other machinery. Subsequently more generally: a person who uses specialized knowledge or skills to design, build, and maintain complicated equipment, systems, processes, etc.; an expert in or student of engineering. Frequently with distinguishing word. From the later 18th cent. onwards mainly with reference to mechanical, chemical, electrical, and similar processes; later (chiefly with distinguishing word) also with reference to biological or technological systems. Since 1606 A person whose profession is the designing and constructing of works of public utility, such as bridges, roads, canals, railways, harbours, drainage works, etc.
ProletariatSince 1847 Wage earners collectively, esp. those who have no capital and who depend for subsistence on their daily labour; the working classes. Esp. with reference to Marxist theory, in which the proletariat are seen as engaged in permanent class struggle with the bourgeoisie, or with those who own the means of production.
Crisis Since 1588 Originally: a state of affairs in which a decisive change for better or worse is imminent; a turning point. Now usually: a situation or period characterized by intense difficulty, insecurity, or danger, either in the public sphere or in one’s personal life; a sudden emergency situation. Also as a mass noun, esp. in in crisis.
UtilitarianSince 1802 Of philosophy, principles, etc.: Consisting in or based upon utility; spec. that regards the greatest good or happiness of the greatest number as the chief consideration or rule of morality. Since 1830 Of or pertaining to utility; relating to mere material interests. Since 1847 In quasi-depreciative use: Having regard to mere utility rather than beauty, amenity, etc.
StatisticsSince 1839 The systematic collection and arrangement of numerical facts or data of any kind; (also) the branch of science or mathematics concerned with the analysis and interpretation of numerical data and appropriate ways of gathering such data.
SociologySince 1842 The study of the development, structure, and functioning of human society. Since 1865 The sociological aspects of a subject or discipline; a particular sociological system.
JournalismSince 1833 The occupation or profession of a journalist; journalistic writing; newspapers and periodicals collectively.
Ideology By 1796 (a) The study of ideas; that branch of philosophy or psychology which deals with the origin and nature of ideas. (b) spec. The system introduced by the French philosopher Étienne Condillac (1715–80), according to which all ideas are derived from sensations. By 1896 A systematic scheme of ideas, usually relating to politics, economics, or society and forming the basis of action or policy; a set of beliefs governing conduct. Also: the forming or holding of such a scheme of ideas.
Strike Since 1810 A concerted cessation of work on the part of a body of workers, for the purpose of obtaining some concession from the employer or employers. Formerly sometimes more explicitly strike of work. Cf. strike v. IV.24, IV.24b Phrase, on strike, also (U.S.) on a strike. Frequently with preceding qualifying word, as general strike, outlaw strike, selective strike, sit-down strike, stay-away strike, stay-down strike, stay-in strike, sympathetic strike, wildcat strike: see under the first elements. Also figurative. Since 1889 A concerted abstention from a particular economic, physical, or social activity on the part of persons who are attempting to obtain a concession from an authority or to register a protest; esp. in hunger strike, rent strike
PauperismSince 1792 The condition of being a pauper; extreme poverty; = pauperdom n. Since 1807 The existence of a pauper class; poverty, with dependence on public relief or charity, as an established fact or phenomenon in a society. Now chiefly historical.
Source: https://www.oed.com/dictionary/ (subscription needed for full access)

Now try and imagine having a conversation about politics, economics, your job, the news, or even what you watched last night on TV without using any of these words. Try and imagine any of our politicians getting through an interview of any length without resorting to industry, ideology, statistics, nationality or crisis. Let’s call us now Lemmy (Late Modern) and us then Emily (Early Modern):

Lemmy: We need to send back people who arrive here illegally if they are a different nationality.

Emily: What’s a nationality?

Lemmy: Failing to do so is based on woke ideology.

Emily: What’s an ideology? And what has my state of wakefulness got to do with it?

Lemmy: This is a crisis.

Emily: Is that a good crisis or a bad crisis?

Lemmy: All crises are bad.

You get the idea.

The 1700s are divided from us by a political and economic language which would have been almost unrecognisable to the people who lived then.

However the other thing that occurs to me is that 1800 is quite a while ago now. The approximate date boundaries of the various iterations of English are often presented as follows:

Source: https://www.myenglishlanguage.com/history-of-english/

Back to my sequence. We are up to 225 years now since the last major shift. So why do we still base our political and economic discussions on the language of the early 1800s?

Well perhaps only our politicians and the people who volunteer to be in the Question Time audience do. As Carlo Iacono puts it brilliantly here in response to James Marriott’s essay The dawn of the post-literate society:

The future Marriott fears, where we’re all reduced to emotional, reactive creatures of the feed, is certainly one possibility. But it’s not inevitable. The teenagers I see who code while listening to philosophy podcasts, who annotate videos with critical commentary, who create elaborate multimedia presentations synthesising dozens of sources: they’re not the degraded shadows of their literate ancestors. They’re developing new forms of intellectual engagement that we’re only beginning to understand.

In the spirit of the slow singularity, perhaps the transition is already happening, but will only be recorded on a timeline when it is more established. Take podcasts, for instance. Ofcom’s latest Media Nations report from 2024 says this:

After a dip in the past couple of years, it seems that 15-24-year-olds are getting back into podcasts, while 35-44s are turning away. Podcasts are still most popular among adults aged 25-34, with weekly reach increasing to 27.9% in the last year. The over-54s remain less likely than average to listen to podcasts, but in contrast to the fluctuation in younger age groups, reach has been steadily increasing among over-54s in the past five years.

It may be that what will be the important language of the next century is already developing out of sight of most politicians and political commentators.

And the people developing it are likely to have just as hard a time holding a conversation with our current rulers as Lemmy is with Emily.

Source: https://pluspng.com/img-png/mixed-economy-png–901.png

Just type “mixed economy graphic” into Google and you will get a lot of diagrams like this one – note that they normally have to pick out the United States for special mention. Notice the big gap between those countries – North Korea, Cuba, China and Russia – and us. It is a political statement masquerading as an economic one.

This same line is used to describe our political options. The Political Compass added an authoritarian/libertarian axis in their 2024 election manifesto analysis but the line from left to right (described as the economic scale) is still there:

Source: https://www.politicalcompass.org/uk2024

So here we are on our political and economic spectrum, where tiny movements between the very clustered Reform, Conservative, Labour and Liberal Democrat positions fill our newspapers and social media comment. The Greens and, presumably if it ever gets off the ground, Your Party are seen as so far away from the cluster that they often get left out of our political discourse. It is an incredibly narrow perspective and we wonder why we are stuck on so many major societal problems.

This is where we have ended up following the “slow singularity” of the Industrial Revolution I talked about in my last post. Our politics coalesced into one gymnasts’ beam, supported by the hastily constructed Late Modern English fashioned for this purpose in the 1800s, along which we have all been dancing ever since, between the market information processors at the “right” end and the bureacratic information processors at the “left” end.

So what does it mean for this arrangement if we suddenly introduce another axis of information processing, ie the large language AI models. I am imagining something like this:

What will this mean for how countries see their economic organisation? What will it mean for our politics?

In 1884, the English theologian, Anglican priest and schoolmaster Edwin Abbott Abbott published a satirical science fiction novella called Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions. Abbott’s satire was about the rigidity of Victorian society, depicted as a two-dimensional world inhabited by geometric figures: women are line segments, while men are polygons with various numbers of sides. We are told the story from the viewpoint of a square, which denotes a gentleman or professional. In this world three-dimensional shapes are clearly incomprehensible, with every attempt to introduce new ideas from this extra dimension considered dangerous. Flatland is not prepared to receive “revelations from another world”, as it describes anything existing in the third dimension, which is invisible to them.

The book was not particularly well received and fell into obscurity until it was embraced by mathematicians and physicists in the early 20th century as the concept of spacetime was being developed by Poincaré, Einstein and Minkowski amongst others. And what now looks like a prophetic analysis of the limitations of the gymnasts’ beam economic and political model of the slow singularity has continued to not catch on at all.

However, much as with Brewster’s Millions, the incidence of film adaptations of Flatland give some indication of when it has come back as an idea to some extent. This tells us that it wasn’t until 1965 until someone thought it was a good idea to make a movie of Flatland and then noone else attempted it until an Italian stop-motion film in 1982. There were then two attempts in 2007, which I can’t help but think of as a comment on the developing financial crisis at the time, and a sequel based on Bolland : een roman van gekromde ruimten en uitdijend heelal (which translates as: Sphereland: A Fantasy About Curved Spaces and an Expanding Universe), a 1957 sequel to Flatland in Dutch (which didn’t get translated into English until 1965 when the first animated film came out) by Dionys Burger, in 2012.

So here we are, with a new approach to processing information and language to sit alongside the established processors of the last 200 years or more. Will it perhaps finally be time to abandon Flatland? And if we do, will it solve any of our problems or just create new ones?

Title page vignette of Hard Times by Charles Dickens. Thomas Gradgrind Apprehends His Children Louisa and Tom at the Circus, 1870

It was Fredric Jameson (according to Owen Hatherley in the New Statesman) who first said:

“It seems to be easier for us today to imagine the thoroughgoing deterioration of the earth and of nature than the breakdown of late capitalism”. I was reminded of this by my reading this week.

It all started when I began watching Shifty, Adam Curtis’ latest set of films on iPlayer aiming to convey a sense of shifting power structures and where they might lead. Alongside the startling revelation that The Land of Make Believe by Bucks Fizz was written as an anti-Thatcher protest song, there was a short clip of Eric Hobsbawm talking about all of the words which needed to be invented in the late 18th century and early 19th to allow people to discuss the rise of capitalism and its implications. So I picked up a copy of his The Age of Revolution 1789-1848 to look into this a little further.

The first chapter of Hobsbawm’s introduction from 1962, the year of my birth, expanded on the list:

Words are witnesses which often speak louder than documents. Let us consider a few English words which were invented, or gained their modern meanings, substantially in the period of sixty years with
which this volume deals. They are such words as ‘industry’, ‘industrialist’, ‘factory’, ‘middle class’, ‘working class’, ‘capitalism’ and ‘socialism’. They include ‘aristocracy’ as well as ‘railway’, ‘liberal’ and
‘conservative’ as political terms, ‘nationality’, ‘scientist’ and ‘engineer’, ‘proletariat’ and (economic) ‘crisis’. ‘Utilitarian’ and ‘statistics’, ‘sociology’ and several other names of modern sciences, ‘journalism’ and ‘ideology’, are all coinages or adaptations of this period. So is ‘strike’ and ‘pauperism’.

What is striking about these words is how they frame most of our economic and political discussions still. The term “middle class” originated in 1812. Noone referred to an “industrial revolution” until English and French socialists did in the 1820s, despite what it described having been in progress since at least the 1780s.

Today the founder of the World Economic Forum has coined the phrase “Fourth Industrial Revolution” or 4IR or Industry 4.0 for those who prefer something snappier. Its blurb is positively messianic:

The Fourth Industrial Revolution represents a fundamental change in the way we live, work and relate to one another. It is a new chapter in human development, enabled by extraordinary technology advances commensurate with those of the first, second and third industrial revolutions. These advances are merging the physical, digital and biological worlds in ways that create both huge promise and potential peril. The speed, breadth and depth of this revolution is forcing us to rethink how countries develop, how organisations create value and even what it means to be human. The Fourth Industrial Revolution is about more than just technology-driven change; it is an opportunity to help everyone, including leaders, policy-makers and people from all income groups and nations, to harness converging technologies in order to create an inclusive, human-centred future. The real opportunity is to look beyond technology, and find ways to give the greatest number of people the ability to positively impact their families, organisations and communities.

Note that, despite the slight concession in the last couple of sentences that an industrial revolution is about more then technology-driven change, they are clear that the technology is the main thing. It is also confused: is the future they see one in which “technology advances merge the physical, digital and biological worlds” to such an extent that we have “to rethink” what it “means to be human”? Or are we creating an “inclusive, human-centred future”?

Hobsbawm describes why utilitarianism (” the greatest happiness of the greatest number”) never really took off amongst the newly created middle class, who rejected Hobbes in favour of Locke because “he at least put private property beyond the range of interference and attack as the most basic of ‘natural rights'”, whereas Hobbes would have seen it as just another form of utility. This then led to this natural order of property ownership being woven into the reassuring (for property owners) political economy of Adam Smith and the natural social order arising from “sovereign individuals of a certain psychological constitution pursuing their self-interest in competition with one another”. This was of course the underpinning theory of capitalism.

Hobsbawm then describes the society of Britain in the 1840s in the following terms:

A pietistic protestantism, rigid, self-righteous, unintellectual, obsessed with puritan morality to the point where hypocrisy was its automatic companion, dominated this desolate epoch.

In 1851 access to the professions in Britain was extremely limited, requiring long years of education to support oneself through and opportunities to do so which were rare. There were 16,000 lawyers (not counting judges) but only 1,700 law students. There were 17,000 physicians and surgeons and 3,500 medical students and assistants. The UK population in 1851 was around 27 million. Compare these numbers to the relatively tiny actuarial profession in the UK today, with around 19,000 members overall in the UK.

The only real opening to the professions for many was therefore teaching. In Britain “76,000 men and women in 1851 described themselves as schoolmasters/mistresses or general teachers, not to mention the 20,000 or so governesses, the well-known last resource of penniless educated girls unable or unwilling to earn their living in less respectable ways”.

Admittedly most professions were only just establishing themselves in the 1840s. My own, despite actuarial activity getting off the ground in earnest with Edmund Halley’s demonstration of how the terms of the English Government’s life annuities issue of 1692 were more generous than it realised, did not form the Institute of Actuaries (now part of the Institute and Faculty of Actuaries) until 1848. The Pharmaceutical Society of Great Britain (now the Royal Pharmaceutical Society) was formed in 1841. The Royal College of Veterinary Surgeons was established by royal charter in 1844. The Royal Institute of British Architects (RIBA) was founded in 1834. The Society of Telegraph Engineers, later the Institute of Electrical Engineers (now part of the Institute of Engineering and Technology), was formed in 1871. The Edinburgh Society of Accountants and the Glasgow Institute of Accountants and Actuaries were granted royal charters in the mid 1850s, before England’s various accounting institutes merged into the Institute of Chartered Accountants in England and Wales in 1880.

However “for every man who moved up into the business classes, a greater number necessarily moved down. In the second place economic independence required technical qualifications, attitudes of mind, or financial resources (however modest) which were simply not in the possession of most men and women.” As Hobsbawm goes on to say, it was a system which:

…trod the unvirtuous, the weak, the sinful (i.e. those who neither made money nor controlled their emotional or financial expenditures) into the mud where they so plainly belonged, deserving at best only of their betters’ charity. There was some capitalist economic sense in this. Small entrepreneurs had to plough back much of their profits into the business if they were to become big entrepreneurs. The masses of new proletarians had to be broken into the industrial rhythm of labour by the most draconic labour discipline, or left to rot if they would not accept it. And yet even today the heart contracts at the sight of the landscape constructed by that generation.

This was the landscape upon which the professions alongside much else of our modern world were constructed. The industrial revolution is often presented in a way that suggests that technical innovations were its main driver, but Hobsbawm shows us that this was not so. As he says:

Fortunately few intellectual refinements were necessary to make the Industrial Revolution. Its technical inventions were exceedingly modest, and in no way beyond the scope of intelligent artisans experimenting in their workshops, or of the constructive capacities of carpenters, millwrights and locksmiths: the flying shuttle, the spinning jenny, the mule. Even its scientifically most sophisticated machine, James Watt’s rotary steam-engine (1784), required no more physics than had been available for the best part of a century—the proper theory of steam engines was only developed ex post facto by the Frenchman Carnot in the 1820s—and could build on several generations of practical employment for steam engines, mostly in mines.

What it did require though was the obliteration of alternatives for the vast majority of people to “the industrial rhythm of labour” and a radical reinvention of the language.

These are not easy things to accomplish which is why we cannot easily imagine the breakdown of late capitalism. However if we focus on AI etc as the drivers of the next industrial revolution, we will probably be missing where the action really is.

I have just been reading Adrian Tchaikovsky’s Service Model. I am sure I will think about it often for years to come.

Imagine a world where “Everything was piles. Piles of bricks and shattered lumps of concrete and twisted rods of rebar. Enough fine-ground fragments of glass to make a whole razory beach. Shards of fragmented plastic like tiny blunted knives. A pall of ashen dust. And, to this very throne of entropy, someone had brought more junk.”

This is Earth outside a few remaining enclaves. And all served by robots, millions of robots.

Robots: like our protagonist (although he would firmly resist such a designation) Uncharles, who has been programmed to be a valet, or gentleman’s gentlerobot; or librarians tasked with preserving as much data from destruction or unauthorised editing as possible; or robots preventing truancy from the Conservation Farm Project where some of the few remaining humans are conscripted to reenact human life before robots; or the fix-it robots; or the warrior robots prosecuting endless wars.

Uncharles, after slitting the throat of his human master for no reason that he can discern, travels this landscape with his hard-to-define-and-impossible to-shut-up companion The Wonk, who is very good at getting into places but often not so good at extracting herself. Until they finally arrive in God’s waiting room and take a number.

Along the way The Wonk attempts to get Uncharles to accept that he has been infected with a Protagonist Virus, which has given Uncharles free will. And Uncharles finds his prognosis routines increasingly unhelpful to him as he struggles to square the world he is perambulating with the internal model of it he carries inside him.

The questions that bounce back between our two unauthorised heroes are many and various, but revolve around:

  1. Is there meaning beyond completing your task list or fulfilling the function for which you were programmed?
  2. What is the purpose of a gentleman’s gentlerobot when there are no gentlemen left?
  3. Is the appearance of emotion in some of Uncharles’ actions and communications really just an increasingly desperate attempt to reduce inefficient levels of processing time? Or is the Protagonist Virus an actual thing?

Ultimately the question is: what is it all for? And when they finally arrive in front of God, the question is thrown back at us, the pile of dead humans rotting across the landscape of all our trash.

This got me thinking about a few things in a different way. One of these was AI.

Suppose AI is half as useful as OpenAI and others are telling us it will be. Suppose that we can do all of these tasks in less than half the time. How is all of that extra time going to be distributed? In 1930 Keynes speculated that his grandchildren would only need to work a 15 hour week. And all of the productivity improvements he assumed in doing so have happened. Yes still full-time work remains the aspiration.

There certainly seems to have been a change of attitude from around 1980 onwards, with those who could choose choosing to work longer, for various reasons which economists are still arguing about, and therefore the hours lost were from those who couldn’t choose, as The Resolution Foundation have pointed out. Unfortunately neither their pay, nor their quality of work, have increased sufficiently for those hours to meet their needs.

So, rather than asking where the hours have gone, it probably makes more sense to ask where the money has gone. And I think we all know the answer to that one.

When Uncharles and The Wonk finally get in to see God, God gives an example of a seat designed to stop vagrants sleeping on it as the indication it needed of the kind of society humans wanted. One where the rich wanted not to have to see or think about the poor. Replacing all human contact with eternally indefatigable and keen-to-serve robots was the world that resulted.

Look at us clever humans, constantly dreaming of ways to increase our efficiency, remove inefficient human interaction, or indeed any interaction which cannot be predicted in advance. Uncharles’ seemingly emotional responses, when he rises above the sea of task-queue-clutching robots all around him, are to what he sees as inefficiency. But what should be the goal? Increasing GDP can’t be it, that is just another means. We are currently working extremely hard and using a huge proportion of news and political affairs airtime and focus on turning the English Channel into the seaborne equivalent of the seat where vagrants and/or migrants cannot rest.

So what should be the goal? Because the reason Service Model will stay with me for some time to come is that it shows us what happens if we don’t have one. The means take over. It seems appropriate to leave the last word to a robot.

“Justice is a human-made thing that means what humans wish it to mean and does not exist at all if humans do not make it,” Uncharles says at one point. “I suggest that ‘kind and ordered’ is a better goal.”

I watched The War Game this week, as it had suddenly turned up on iPlayer and I had not seen it before. It was the infamous film from 1966 on the horrors of a nuclear war in the UK that was not televised until 1985. It has been much lauded as both necessarily horrifying and important over the years, but what struck me watching it was how much it looked back to the period of rationing (which had only ended in the UK 12 years earlier) and general war-time organisation from the Second World War. It would be a very different film if made now, probably drawing on our recent experiences of the pandemic (when of course we did dig huge pits for mass burials of the dead and set up vast Nightingale hospitals as potential field hospitals, before the vaccines emerged earlier than expected).

But what about the threat of nuclear war which still preoccupied us so much in the 1980s but which seems to have become much less of a focus more recently? With the New START treaty, which limits the number of strategic nuclear warheads that the United States and Russia can deploy, and the deployment of land and submarine-based missiles and bombers to deliver them, due to expire on 5 February 5, negotiations between Russia and the United States finally appear to be in progress. However China has today confirmed that it does not want to participate in these.

In Mark Lynas’ recent book Six Minutes to Winter, he points to the Barret, Baum and Hostetler paper from 2013 which estimated the probability of inadvertent nuclear war in any year to be around 1%. This is twice the probability of insolvency we think acceptable for our insurance companies under Solvency II and would mean, if accurate, that the probability of avoiding nuclear war by 2100 was 0.99 raised to the power of 75 (the number of years until 2100), or 47%, ie less than a fifty-fifty chance.

That doesn’t seem like good enough odds to me. As Lynas says:

We cannot continue to run the daily risk of nuclear war, because sooner or later one will happen. We expend enormous quantities of effort on climate change, a threat that can endanger human civilisation in decades, but ignore one that can already destroy the world in minutes. Either by accident or by intent, the day of Armageddon will surely dawn. It’s either us or them: our civilisation or the nukes. We cannot both survive indefinitely.

The Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons (TPNW) was adopted at the UN in 2017 and came into force in 2021. In Article 1 of the Treaty, each state party to it undertakes never to develop, test, produce, possess, transfer, use or threaten to use nuclear weapons under any circumstances. 94 countries have signed the TPNW to date, with 73 full parties to it.

The House of Commons library entry on TPNW poses a challenge:

It is the first multilateral, legally binding, instrument for nuclear disarmament to have been negotiated in 20 years. However, the nuclear weapon states have not signed and ratified the new treaty, and as such, are not legally bound by its provisions. The lack of engagement by the nuclear weapon states subsequently raises the question of what this treaty can realistically achieve.

It then goes on to state the position of the UK Government:

The British Government did not participate in the UN talks and will not sign and ratify the new treaty. It believes that the best way to achieve the goal of global nuclear disarmament is through gradual multilateral disarmament, negotiated using a step-by-step approach and within existing international frameworks, specifically the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty. The Government has also made clear that it will not accept any argument that this treaty constitutes a development of customary international law binding on the UK or other non-parties.

There are 9 nuclear states in the world: China, France, India, North Korea, Pakistan, Russia, Israel, the UK and the United States. Israel recently conducted a 12 day war with Iran to stop it becoming the 10th. Many argue that Russia would never have invaded Ukraine had it kept its nuclear weapons (although it seems unlikely that they would have ever been able to use them as a deterrent for a number of reasons). So the claims of these nuclear states that they are essential to their security are real.

But is the risk that continued maintenance of a nuclear arsenal poses worth it for this additional security? For the security only operates at the deterrence level. Once the first bomb lands we are no more secure than anyone else.

Which makes it all the more concerning when Donald Trump starts saying things like this (in response to a veiled threat by the Russian Foreign Minister about their nuclear arsenal):

“I have ordered two Nuclear Submarines to be positioned in the appropriate regions, just in case these foolish and inflammatory statements are more than just that. Words are very important, and can often lead to unintended consequences, I hope this will not be one of those instances.”

But with a probability of avoiding “unintended consequences” less than fifty-fifty by 2100? That really doesn’t feel like good enough odds to me.

Last time I suggested that the changes to graduate recruitment patterns, due at least in part to technological change, appeared to be to the disadvantage of current graduates, both in terms of number of vacancies and in what they were being asked to do.

This immediately reminds me of the old Woody Allen joke from the opening monologue to Annie Hall:

Two elderly women are at a Catskills mountain resort, and one of ’em says: “Boy, the food at this place is really terrible.” The other one says, “Yeah, I know, and such … small portions.”

This would clearly be an uncomfortable position for Corporate Britain if it were accepted. So a push back is to be expected. The drop in graduate vacancies is hard to challenge so the next candidate is obviously the candidates themselves.

So hot on the heels of “Kids today need more discipline”, “Nobody wants to work”, “Students today aren’t prepared for college”, “Kids today are lazy”, “We are raising a generation of wimps” and “Kids today have too much freedom” (I refer you to Paul Fairie’s excellent collections of newspaper reports through history detailing these findings at regular intervals), we now have the FT, newspaper of choice for Corporate Britain, weighing in on “The Troubling Decline in Conscientiousness“, this time backed up by a whole series of graphs:

John Burn-Murdoch does a lot of great data work on a huge array of subjects which I have referred to often, but I find the quoted studies problematic for a number of reasons. First of all, there is the suspicion that young people have already been found guilty before looking for evidence to back this up. For instance, which came first here the “factors at work” or the “shifts”?

While a full explanation of these shifts requires thorough investigation, and there will be many factors at work, smartphones and streaming services seem likely culprits.

At one point John feels compelled to say:

While the terminology of personality can feel vague, the science is solid.

At which point he links to this study, defending the five-factor model of personality as a “biologically based human universal” which terrifies me a little. Now of course there are always studies pointing in lots of different directions for any piece of social science research and this is no exception. In this critique of the five-factor model (FFM), for instance, we find that:

While the two largest factors (Anxiety/Neuroticism and Extraversion) appear to have been universally accepted (e.g., in the pioneering factor-analytic work of R. B. Cattell, H. J. Eysenck, J. P. Guilford, and A. L. Comrey), the present critique suggests, nevertheless, that the FFM provides a less than optimal account of human personality structure.

I first saw the FT article via a post on LinkedIn, where there was one mild push back sitting alone amongst crowds of pile ons from people of my generation. After all it feels right, doesn’t it? But Chris Wagstaff, Senior Visiting Fellow at Bayes Business School, was spot on I feel, when he pointed out four potential behavioural biases at play here within the organisations where these young people are working:

  1. The decline in conscientiousness and some of the other traits identified could be a consequence of more senior colleagues not inviting or taking on board constructive challenge from younger colleagues, the calamity of conformity, i.e. groupthink, so demotivating the latter.
  2. Related to this is the tendency for many organisations to get their employees to live and breathe an often meaningless set of values and adhere to a blinkered way of doing things. Again, hugely frustrating and demotivating.
  3. Or perhaps we’re seeing way too many meetings being populated by way too many participants, meaning social loafing (ie when individual performance isn’t visible they simply hide behind others) is on the increase.
  4. Finally, remuneration structures might discourage entrepreneurial thinking and an element of risk taking (younger folk are less risk averse than older folk). Again, very demotivating.

These sound much more convincing “factors at play” to me than smart phones or streaming services, neither of which of course are the preserve of the young. But demonising the young is an essential prelude to feeling better about denying them work or forcing them into some kind of reverse centaur position.

Corporate Britain needs to do better than pseudo-scientific victim blaming. There are real issues here around the next generation’s relationship with work and much else which need to be met head on. Your future pension income may depend upon it.