Birmingham – We Know Zero

The Slow, The Shine and The Darkness

12. April 2026 · Write a comment · Categories: Birmingham, Climate Change, COVID-19, Economics, Media & Politics, Science Fiction

This review originally appeared in the April issue of Brum Group News, the newsletter of the Birmingham Science Fiction Group and is reproduced here (with light editing) by kind permission

A few years ago the historian Adam Tooze said the following about the times we are living in:

If you’ve been feeling confused and as though everything is impacting on you at the same time, this is not a personal, private experience. This is actually a collective experience.

The word he came up with for this experience was “polycrisis”. It described the interplay of the Covid pandemic, Ukraine war and the energy, cost-of-living and climate crises. To that we could now add Trump 2nd term, war in Gaza and now the Gulf.

I am reviewing this book while I have Covid, which has certainly facilitated the kind of inner focus which I think the book is asking for. Because Slow Gods is polycrisis in the form of space opera, but a curiously interior-monologuey kind of space opera, more psychological than boom-boom.

The premise, as Claire North set out for us at the Birmingham Science Fiction Group last June, is that a binary star system is due to collapse which will obliterate all life within an 83 light-year blast radius. Unusually, the populations in the vicinity are warned of this precisely 100 years in advance by a perfect black sphere moving through space at sub-light-speed and known by everyone as the Slow.

The Slow listens to everything, remembers it and will consider it.

We follow the story through the eyes of Maw, who has been killed and has recovered in such a way as to be very difficult to kill after that. Making Maw an ideal candidate for Pilot, the organic sentient needed in the pilot’s seat of any ship wishing to enter arcspace which lets it travel across the universe faster than light, at huge personal cost. Pilots die frequently and each planetary system has its own way of choosing and rewarding its Pilots. Only Maw appears to be able to act as Pilot again and again, which makes the people around Maw nervous.

The main thing about Maw which makes people nervous is Maw’s relationship with “the darkness” which reaches into any ship in arcspace, in many cases sending people mad. Maw, instead, becomes “curious”, exploiting a changing relationship and perception of matter in the darkness to do monstrous things. But, despite all this, Maw is still required to keep running missions, although usually with a mechanical assistant to keep Maw from getting “dysregulated”.

This unusual set up turns out to be a way of observing the psychology of the polycrisis with some clarity. The United Social Venture is an empire where its subjects acquired debt just from being born (measured in Glint):

Everything the Venture gave us – the air we breathed, the roads we walked down, the schools we learned in – had been sweated for, bled for, and our debts were a marker of the needful labour we would give back in return.

This economic system was referred to as Shine. The Shine were one of the few systems which used prisoners for Pilot work.

One of the joys of the book is the exploration of difference, lots of details about avoiding giving offence when the Xi of Xihanna ask Maw to pilot a ship to Adjumir to bring out historical artefacts and Maw meets Gebre of the Haalo Institute. Maw finds that Normspeak is regarded as a very crude way of communicating and starts, haltingly, to learn Adjumiri (which is at least in part a click language). So begins a very moving love story.

Gender differences between systems are very striking. The Shine have only two genders – “he” and “she” – although the elite also have hé and shé. The most manly and the most feminine.

There are four genders in Xihanna, but they are not regarded as particularly important characteristics of a person and dispensed with once you know someone well. On Adjumir, there are eight, with very few Adjumiris remaining the same gender all their lives. These differences are picked out by the brilliant use of pronouns, a useful technique in a book full of characters. Even mechanicals, who have no particular interest in gender, are referred to as qe/qis as a mark of respect as “they do not wish to be put in the same category as a bowl of soup or a broken chair”.

We join Maw towards the end of the 100 year programme to evacuate the populations of Adjumir and Hadda to relative safety, with 800 million still on the planets and increasingly desperate. The Slow has effectively taken on a role as God through its massive databases, calculation capacity and sheer longevity. It seeks out Maw as it has plans for him. The Slow has been around so long that qe sees everything in the very long run. Which means that the emotional turmoil and intense highs and lows of individual lives are all averaged out to nothing. Qe calculates in terms of galaxy-level populations on the basis of what qe has come to think of as love.

What calculation would the Slow make about our world, with all our nation states and their often tiny differences blown up to justify war aims? Donald Trump certainly has to have the most Shine of any US President for some time.

Slow Gods moves slowly but relentlessly towards a showdown between Maw and Theodosius Rhode, the Executor of the Shine and executioner of his mother. There is much tragedy along the way and the ending is not straightforward but ultimately very satisfying. It’s an uplifting ride.

Talking Terraforming in Birmingham

08. April 2026 · Write a comment · Categories: Actuarial, Birmingham, Climate Change, Media & Politics, Risk, Science Fiction

*Front page of the April 2026 issue of Brum Group News*

Three and a half years ago, I wrote a piece likening the rapid climate change on Earth to the fairly well-established science fiction concept of terraforming, but in reverse. So what has happened since? Well last summer, according to researchers at Imperial College and the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine, two thirds of the 24,400 heat deaths from June to August across Europe were due to human-made global heating. And a study published last month has suggested that the pace of global warming has nearly doubled since 2015.

It this point I would like to suggest rehabilitating an old word to describe this process, in the opposite direction to terraforming (which is action designed to make a planet more habitable). Barrenize means to make barren or sterile and was used between the mid 1600s and the early 1700s according to the Oxford English Dictionary, originally in the context of animal husbandry. I think it’s time to bring this word back.

In a week when a US President has threatened, variously, “blowing everything up and taking over the oil” and that Iranians would be “living in Hell”, to last night saying that “a whole civilisation will die tonight”, unless they opened the Strait of Hormuz, it certainly sounds like a commitment to barrenization to me, only at a faster pace than the global warming he is already doing everything possible to accelerate further.

On Friday this week, the Birmingham Science Fiction Group will have Oliver Bettis as its guest speaker. Oliver has been a leading actuary in the field of sustainability for many years. He is one of the authors of a series of publications by the actuarial profession in collaboration with the University of Exeter in recent years.

Climate Scorpion shows how we need to develop a best guess about the worst-case scenarios and make policy on that basis, given our lack of knowledge about extreme climate risk and tipping points.

Planetary Solvency – finding our balance with nature sets out an approach to civilisational risk management which attempts to address the fact that the severity and frequency of extreme events are unprecedented and beyond current model projections.

Parasol Lost, which we will be discussing in particular this Friday, focuses on the cooling effect of aerosols: a side-effect of pollution from fossil fuel burning. Without aerosol cooling the global temperature would be around 0.5°C higher than the 1.4°C increase above pre-industrial temperature that we have today. It is critically important to recognise that, as air pollution is cleaned up, this may ironically lead to a short-term increase in warming through the loss of aerosol cooling. The question must be asked, can we afford to lose this cooling and if not, should this be replaced by working with nature, using technology or both?

This will allow us to tap into the rich history of science fiction literature on terraforming (and dealing with the threat of barrenization) and whether this can allow us to look at this question in a new way. It should be a lively discussion.

This event will be held in-person at the Friends of the Earth Warehouse, 54-57 Allison Street,
Birmingham B5 5TH and simultaneously on Zoom, with online access opening from around 7.45 for an 8 pm start.

Ticket prices for non-members are £8 for in-person attendance and £6 for Zoom attendance. For members it’s £4 in-person attendance and free Zoom attendance.

Tickets can be purchased on the door or via the Eventbrite link below:

https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/1985958692911

And if this whets your appetite for more science fiction and you think you might like to join the group, just email us at contact@brumsfgroup.org.uk. Hope to see you there!

Peak Birmingham

12. March 2026 · Write a comment · Categories: Birmingham, Media & Politics

I have lived in Birmingham for 17 years now, and worked here for 5 or 6 years before that. However I don’t think I achieved my peak Birmingham experience until the other weekend.

I had thought my peak Birmingham experience, probably never to be surpassed, was in November 2024 when I saw Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds on their Wild God tour at BP Pulse Live (formerly the Birmingham NEC) perform Red Right Hand (the anthem of The Peaky Blinders). Surely once you have been one microscopic cog in his catastrophic plan designed and directed by his red right hand there is nowhere else to go?

But turns out I may have been wrong.

Last Saturday I headed out to the mess of streets that is Digbeth, partitioned from the persistent remnants of the HS2 project, walking past derelict post-industrialism juxtaposed with pubs, art installations and other small businesses and a big coach station. This is where the Birmingham Science Fiction Group operate out of, courtesy of the Friends of the Earth, but today I was headed for the The Institute.

The Digbeth Institute originally opened in 1908 as a mission of Carrs Lane Congregational Church and, despite its various rock venue reincarnations as the HMV Institute and, currently, the O2 Institute as well as formerly housing a club in its basement (variously operating as the Midland Jazz Club, Jug ‘O Punch Folk Club, Dance Factory and Barfly over the years), it retains an ecclesiastical air at times. It is a place to preach from the pulpit.

The preachers tonight are, first, Good Health Good Wealth (the singer, Bruce Breakey, with his arm hilariously in a sling, delivering lyrics with a poetic flourish alongside the guitarist Simon Kuzmickas), then Black Country duo Gans (Euan Woodman electric on the drums and Tom Rhodes on bass and vocals) augmented to a trio tonight by Tommy Schlugs on flute and saxophone. And, finally, the reason I came, Big Special.

The evening is given an extra resonance by the appearance of Bradley Taylor as MC. Bradley is a great poet and extraordinary performer of poetry for someone so young. I first saw him perform when the Hay Festival did an outreach event in Birmingham last year and immediately bought his book You Missed The Best Part. Between Good Health Good Wealth and Gans he does the one about his Nan’s funeral. Then before Big Special there’s Got A Light and the one where he operates between audience hand claps, which works brilliantly to introduce the band.

Big Special are a Midlands-based duo (singer Joe Hicklin, strictly from Walsall not Birmingham, which is important if you live in the West Midlands, and drummer Callum Moloney) who manage to combine absolute fury with tenderness and an emotional intensity just this side of sentimentality. I first heard them on Radio 6 (and the audience from there is acknowledged on the night by Callum, saying he can smell the essence of craft IPA and Stuart Maconie) and was blown away by God Save The Pony (“I hope you’re never tired, I hope you’re never lonely”) with its, for me, resonances of Neil Kinnock’s speech in 1983 just before Margaret Thatcher’s re-election:

I warn you not to be ordinary

I warn you not to be young

I warn you not to fall ill

I warn you not to get old

They are very loud, very sweary, but touchingly innocent too. Joe has a Chaplinesque quality to his stage presence which diffuses some of the tension racked up by the super-powered drumming and dance tracks. They act their way through the set, bringing on their manager Steve (as in “we’ve got to pay Steve” from their song Shop Music) as a money grubbing man who knows the price of everything.

The set ends with Shithouse, which they offer as our new national anthem. “Never in a million fucking years did I ever think I’d ever see your fucking face again” it begins. They come off briefly, then come back on, do one more song and then we have…a raffle! For Cancer Research. They have built up Steve’s part so much by this time that he actually gets booed while conducting a raffle for Cancer Research. The prize is a drum skin with, for some reason, the certified blood of the Gans drummer on it. The winner is upstairs, so the prize is frisbeed to him by Joe, narrowly avoiding decapitating another member of the audience in the process.

*Source: Instagram – Official Big Special photo from the Birmingham gig*

It is chaotic, fun and disarming. As they say:

We have been twice around the world now and what everywhere has in common is that it is totally fucked. And we don’t have any solutions. We are just two dickheads from the Midlands. But what we can do is join with you here to scream into the void.

Joe finally plays a bit of guitar at this point and accompanies himself on a beautiful rendition of Dragged up a hill. And then it’s all over.

This is music of the powerless. I recommend you listen to it.

Football’s coming home in the worst way

14. January 2026 · Write a comment · Categories: Birmingham, Health, Media & Politics

*The Sun attempts to get a new song going on the terraces. Still not going to be selling newspapers in Liverpool though*

Disclaimer: I support Liverpool FC, so it is entirely possible that the following may be a slightly skewed account of recent football history and its implications.

Last week Manchester United sacked their manager after 14 months. Since Alex Ferguson left in the summer of 2013, United have now had 10 different managers (it was announced this week that Michael Carrick was coming back for a second bash at caretaker manager).

This is despite the fact that it is very difficult to establish whether changing managers helps, with most studies citing how many different factors are at play. One masters dissertation concludes that, although it may produce a short term boost, it is generally not enough to save a club from relegation from the Premier League. So why do it?

Surprisingly this leads us into something called Ritual Scapegoating Theory, first cited at least 60 years ago as a possible explanation for managerial succession in baseball. So changing manager may or may not make much difference to performance, but it does make everyone feel better.

And it may be that the catharsis of sacking a Special One every season or so is making Manchester United supporters feel better than the two FA Cups, two League Cups and a Europa League win (that they have managed in the 13 years since Ferguson left) have. In that time Liverpool, with just three managers, have won two Premier League titles and a Champions League, UEFA Super Cup and Club World Cup as well as an FA Cup and two League Cups. Manchester City, with just two managers in that time, have won seven Premier League titles, a Champions League, UEFA Super Cup and Club World Cup as well as two FA Cups and six League Cups.

In the previous 27 years when Manchester United had just one manager, they won 13 League titles, two Champions Leagues, five FA Cups, four League Cups, and the UEFA Europa League, Super Cup and Cup Winners’ Cup, and the FIFA Club World Cup and the Intercontinental Cup. The lesson Manchester United have learned from this apparently is not that they need to minimise manager turnover.

Chelsea are even worse. They have had 13 different managers over the same period. They sacked the current England manager Thomas Tuchel after just 20 months despite him winning them the UEFA Champions League, Super Cup and Club World Cup. They sacked Enzo Maresca after just 18 months despite him winning them the UEFA Conference League and the Club World Cup. That appears to be catharsis on steroids.

Now this doesn’t matter very much when it is just about baseball or football. Despite what Bill Shankly said, life and death and our politics more generally are much more important than football. My fear is that the view that we need to sack someone whenever we don’t get the result we want immediately is leaching out of football into everything else.

Nigel Farage’s favourite phrase appears to be that “Heads must roll”. He has deployed it about the head of children’s services in Rotherham over three children being removed from their foster families in 2012, the whole of the NatWest board when he was refused a Coutts account in 2023, unspecified individuals from Essex Police managing the demonstrations outside an Epping hotel last year, and also last year again feeling that some head rolling was in order in response to the Government’s national inquiry into grooming gangs.

Meanwhile Kemi Badenoch said in 2024 of civil servants “There is about 5 per cent to 10 per cent of them who are very, very bad. You know, ‘should be in prison’ bad”. Last week she called for the Chief Constable of West Midlands Police to go over the decision to ban fans of Maccabi Tel Aviv from the Aston Villa ground for their Champions League match in November (which, hilariously, now appears to have been, at least partly, influenced by how badly Maccabi Tel Aviv supporters behaved at an entirely fictional game against West Ham United). Also in November, she called for the people involved in making the Panorama documentary about the Capitol Riots, to be sacked (another “heads should roll” headline). Also in November, she decided other BBC “heads must roll” over the decision to uphold complaints and reprimand a newsreader for altering her script from “pregnant people” to “pregnant women” on camera in a piece about groups most at risk during UK heatwaves.

It feels like the footballisation of public life. Farage and Badenoch are routinely reported as furious about something or other, in addition to the frequent demands for sackings, nearly always of public servants. They can clearly see there are votes in it, but the effects of this continuous vilification of public services and the people running them go way beyond that.

The immediate effect is often to make someone’s job untenable. So both the NatWest and Coutts CEOs left after the Farage complaint. The BBC’s Director General and BBC News Chief Executive both left soon after the Badenoch complaint. Now these are all comfortably off individuals who will no doubt be fine, but the impact on an organisation of the idea that any of its leaders could be hounded out at any moment, not through any regulatory process or indeed any process at all, but by someone in politics with a big mouth can be seen increasingly in our public institutions.

One example would be in the NHS. The HSJ recently published an article on the distribution of tenure of trust chief executives (it required four screenshots to show you just how long a tail can be!). Notice how it is not until half way up the 3rd screenshot (counting up from the bottom) that you find a CEO who has been in post for 50 months, and four of them are about to leave.

Source: https://www.hsj.co.uk/leadership/trust-ceos-time-in-post/7040645.article?storyCode=7040645

As Roy Lilley says:

Public reporting over the last eighteen months points to exits by:

NHS England CEO, plus
a cluster of senior national directors exiting.
At least 10 ICB chief executives stepping down or being replaced.
Trust CEO turnover approaching a quarter of posts;
implying 50 or more trust-level departures, including permanent and unplanned exits.

Taken together, a guesstimate is between 60 and 80 chief executives and equivalent senior leaders have left their roles across the NHS in the last eighteen months.

As he goes on to say:

High turnover at the top tells the rest of the system that leadership is temporary. Risk is unrewarded and survival matters more than stewardship.

Authority is put at question.

That encourages short-term-ism, compliance and caution. Precisely the opposite of what complex service reform needs.

For those fans of Manchester United’s way of running things who seem to be running things at the moment, that is a hell of a lot of catharsis. Evidence suggests that it is unlikely to achieve much else.

The catharsis never lasts, as at some point the music has to stop, and someone needs to actually be sitting in actual chairs, actually managing the thing. Just ask Chelsea and Manchester United.

Boxes

24. October 2025 · Write a comment · Categories: Actuarial, Birmingham, COVID-19, Health, Legal, Media & Politics, Regulation, Risk

*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:

Imagine a voting system where all political parties win the proportion of seats they have earned as a result of their proportion of the vote, no more and no less

31. July 2025 · Write a comment · Categories: Birmingham, Media & Politics

In my last post, I expressed a preference for the single transferable vote. So let’s look at the competition (a more detailed look at each from the Electoral Reform Society can be found here):

Party List Proportional Representation

Variants of this are the most common types of voting system in the world, being used in 80 countries. In the closed list variant, people just vote for parties and the parties then supply candidates in proportion. An open list system has a list of candidates to vote for, the vote both determining the party vote and ordering the candidates which are then supplied according to their proportional vote. A semi-open system means parties publish the order in which their candidates will be supplied but voters just choose parties. Constituency size also affects how these systems work.

The closed list system was used in the UK for European Parliament elections until we left the EU. These elections had consistently low turnouts in the UK and only about 5% of people were able to identify their MEP. So I think that probably disallows these systems for the UK.

Additional Member System

This is first past the post but with additional MPs added to make the overall numbers for each party proportional to the popular vote, arrived at with a second vote for a party on a party list basis, with all its disadvantages.

Imagine how many more MPs would have been required to make the last election proportional! For the 412 Labour MPs to only represent 34% of the seats we would need 1,212 in total, an increase of 562 (ie almost double). This, combined with the disadvantages of the party list system, disallows it for me I think.

Supplementary Vote

You get two votes instead of one, first choice is FPTP. If noone gets 50% of the vote, there is a run off between the top two where second choices are then added on to the candidates’ totals (although if your first choice is in the run off, your second choice is not counted). It is used to elected the London Mayor which obviously doesn’t required proportionality. Which is good, because it does not remotely provide it.

Alternative Vote

If noone gets 50% of the vote, the candidate who came last is removed and their votes allocated according to the second choices of the people who had that candidate as their favourite. And so on until someone does get 50%. However it is not a form of proportional representation as the ERS re-running of the 2015 election under a number of different systems shows:

Also, we have already voted against introducing this system (in 2011).

Alternative Vote Plus

This was a system invented by the Independent Commission on the Voting System (often referred to as the Jenkins Commission as it was chaired by Roy Jenkins) in 1998, which has never been implemented anywhere. It recommended using the Alternative Vote system for 80-85% of the seats in Parliament, then topping up from party lists to make the system proportional. Unfortunately, as ERS have pointed out, 15% of the seats would not be enough to achieve this.

Two-Round System

This is very similar to the alternative vote system, where if noone gets 50% of the vote in the first round, the top two candidates go through to the second round, with people’s second choices reallocated where their first choices did not make the top two. It is therefore not a proportional system. It also introduces a gap between the first and second vote, with uncertain consequences.

Borda Count

In this system there is one ballot paper with a list of candidates. You put a number next to each candidate, with your favourite at number one. These are converted into points with the candidates ranked last scoring one point, two for being next-to-last and so on. The candidate with the most points is the winner.

It is a recipe for tactical voting and is used in Eurovision – need I say more?

So how do these compare with the single transferable vote?

Single Transferable Vote

First a link to the video from my last post, explaining how it works, as a reminder (I highly recommend it and it is under 7 minutes long).

In this system, you have multiple seats per (larger) constituencies, with constituencies the size of 4-5 current constituencies. As a voter you number the candidates (you must vote for one and then its up to you). There is a quota (known as the Droop quota after its inventor Henry Droop) which is calculated as:

total votes / (total seats + 1)) + 1

This wacky formula is to adjust the normal requirement for a single MP election for them to get more than 50% of the vote to one where there are multiple seats available, and the “+ 1” is there to replicate the “more than” requirement.

If a candidate gets at least this number of votes, they are elected and their surplus votes (ie the ones in excess of the quota) are then reallocated to your second choice candidate. If noone reaches the quota, then the least popular candidate is removed and their votes reallocated until someone does.

The constituency should then end up with MPs approximately in proportion to the percentage vote of each of their parties (although independents can operate successfully within this system too).

This is a proportional system which still gives you a link to your MPs. The larger constituencies can line up with existing areas which make sense to voters, eg in Birmingham there are 10 constituencies currently within the Birmingham City Council region, which could be combined into two larger constituencies each represented by 5 MPs in proportion to the votes in each area.

I must get a couple of requests a week from campaigners to write to my MP in support of their latest campaign. My own experience of writing to my MP, who has a well organised and efficient office but has been in the role for a long time and feels he knows his own mind about most things by now, is the most I can expect is a return letter telling me all of the reasons why I am wrong about my position on whatever it is. Imagine a constituency where most of you had the choice of an MP who shared at least some of your concerns and was therefore more likely to help represent your views more widely. Imagine how much more empowered you would feel, how much more likely to get involved in politics, how much more likely to vote.

Imagine that effect rippling throughout the constituencies up and down the country. Imagine what it might do to voter turnout!

*Source: ERS*. *Here the countries that use proportional voting systems are in purple and the countries that use non-proportional voting systems are in dark blue.*

Is proportional representation (PR) likely to lead to more representation for smaller parties and therefore coalitions? Yes it is. But the mistake is in thinking that FPTP doesn’t lead to coalitions. The difference is that they are currently within a few big dominant parties trying to hold their different wings together on the left and the right. With PR those deals need to be done in public so that we can judge them and adjust our votes accordingly.

The Jenkins Commission mentioned earlier ended up rejecting STV on the basis that it moved to bigger constituencies (which does not seem a disadvantage in itself), had a more complicated voting system (which can be fully explained in a video under 7 minutes long) and “a tendency towards parochial politics”. It seems to me that time has moved on. The challenges we are facing increasingly are going to need local community responses. What Lord Jenkins might have called “parochial” from his rather lofty view of politics may be just what we need now.

Instead imagine that your vote counted at the next election even if you weren’t in the majority. Imagine most people having a sympathetic MP they could write to about things that mattered to them. Imagine MPs encouraged to represent the views they stood for election on to the full extent of their ability – no more having to sit in one or two buckets that aren’t really what they’re about because they are the only buckets that ever get elected. Imagine that all political parties win the proportion of seats they have earned as a result of their proportion of the vote, no more and no less. Imagine being able to vote for the party you prefer rather than needing to tactically vote to keep out your worst nightmare. All this could be yours.

All we need to do is demand it!

Humpty Dumpty and the Terrorism Act

07. July 2025 · Write a comment · Categories: Birmingham, Cartoons, Health, Legal, Media & Politics

*Illustration of Humpty Dumpty from Through the Looking Glass, by John Tenniel, 1871.*

“When I use a word,’ Humpty Dumpty said in rather a scornful tone, ‘it means just what I choose it to mean — neither more nor less.’

’The question is,’ said Alice, ‘whether you can make words mean so many different things.’

’The question is,’ said Humpty Dumpty, ‘which is to be master — that’s all.”

This is the country we are now living in. Because 4 members of a group sprayed red paint on some aircraft and caused some damaged using crowbars at an Oxfordshire base, as part of a series of protests designed to end international support for Israel’s war in Gaza for which they have all been arrested and charged, the whole organisation has been “proscribed” following a vote of 385 votes to 26 in the House of Commons and the order subsequently signed by the Home Secretary, Yvette Cooper, putting it on a par with organisations like ISIS (a full list of the 81 organisations proscribed under the Terrorism Act 2000 and the 14 Northern Ireland organisations proscribed under previous legislation can be found here).

Proscription makes it a criminal offence to:

belong, or profess to belong, to a proscribed organisation in the UK or overseas (section 11 of the act)
invite support for a proscribed organisation (the support invited need not be material support, such as the provision of money or other property, and can also include moral support or approval) (section 12(1))
express an opinion or belief that is supportive of a proscribed organisation, reckless as to whether a person to whom the expression is directed will be encouraged to support a proscribed organisation (section 12(1A)) – this one was added by the Counter Terrorism and Border Security Act 2019.
arrange, manage or assist in arranging or managing a meeting in the knowledge that the meeting is to support or further the activities of a proscribed organisation, or is to be addressed by a person who belongs or professes to belong to a proscribed organisation (section 12(2)); or to address a meeting if the purpose of the address is to encourage support for, or further the activities of, a proscribed organisation (section 12(3))
wear clothing or carry or display articles in public in such a way or in such circumstances as to arouse reasonable suspicion that the individual is a member or supporter of a proscribed organisation (section 13)
publish an image of an item of clothing or other article, such as a flag or logo, in the same circumstances (section 13(1A)) this one was also added by the Counter Terrorism and Border Security Act 2019.

References are to sections of the Terrorism Act 2000.

In order to be proscribed, the Terrorism Act states that an organisation must have:

committed or participated in acts of terrorism;
prepared for terrorism;
promoted or encouraged terrorism (including the unlawful glorification of terrorism); or
be otherwise concerned in terrorism.

And terrorism is defined as:

the use or threat of action which: involves serious violence against a person; involves serious damage to property; endangers a person’s life (other than that of the person committing the act); creates a serious risk to the health or safety of the public or section of the public or is designed seriously to interfere with or seriously to disrupt an electronic system.

The use or threat of such action must be designed to influence the government or an international governmental organisation or to intimidate the public or a section of the public, and must be undertaken for the purpose of advancing a political, religious, racial or ideological cause.

As a consequence, 29 people were arrested under terrorism legislation for protesting about the proscription, including an 83 year old retired priest, arrested after appearing to be in possession of a placard. I assume it was the one shown here.

The organisation’s website now displays the following message:

Co-founder of Palestine Action Huda Ammori is seeking to bring a legal challenge against the Home Office with a hearing for permission to bring a judicial review set to take place during the week of 21 July. Meanwhile a new group has suddenly appeared, armed with a fresh supply of red paint and targetting Time Logistics (which they say supplied one of Israel’s biggest weapons companies) lorries near Birmingham.

And the name of the new group? Yvette Cooper.

The Redistribution of Space

10. April 2025 · Write a comment · Categories: Birmingham, Climate Change, Health, Media & Politics

My 60th birthday celebrations, a couple of years ago now, centred around train journeys to the South of France and then onto Madrid. The highlight was (pictured above) spending a large part of my birthday, in mid October, on a huge deserted beach at Narbonne and being able to comfortably swim in the sea. So much space.

And the trains also seemed so much more spacious. I travel a lot on trains in the UK, with sometimes comedically little space. And I am not just talking about space in terms of leg room in European trains, but also whenever you want to walk over to the restaurant carriage on the upper floor of a double decker train to improve the views, with a bar and an array of kidney shaped tables dotted around the carriage to eat hot meals at, before ambling back to your seat. Mental space is much greater too, with fewer announcements and partitions between passengers to reduce the amount of conversation bouncing around the carriage. I had several 5-6 hour journeys over the two weeks I was away, and they were without exception very relaxing experiences.

So enough travelogue. What point am I making? It is the importance of space.

I think of other things where my view of it has been affected by the space attached to it. Take swimming, for example. I spent three of my formative years (aged 3 to 6) in Singapore where my father was stationed with the RAF. We swam outdoors at the Singapore Swimming Club every afternoon and lived in flats right next to a beach. Swimming was all about space – on my back staring up at the limitless sky, or mask and snorkels on and face down to explore the depths of the pools.

Back in the UK, it has never been anything like the same experience. I have swum in pools in village schools in Yorkshire, council pools in Cheltenham and Witney, the pools built for the Youth Games in Sheffield, a private school’s tiny pool in Oxford where I did my bronze survival badge. Endless school outings with compulsory swim caps and cold water. I have swum in lakes and spent probably more time in the Cherwell than was strictly healthy, sometimes deliberately, sometimes because the canoes we were given at school were designed to be manoeuvrable rather than stable. I have swum in decaying metal structures in spa towns and pools fed by spring water with no heating in the Peak District. I only discovered body boarding relatively late and the joys of doing it for much longer in colder seas with a wetsuit even later (last year). I also spent a fascinating morning with the Wild Woman of the Wye, Angela Jones, learning how to swim safely in the river in our current polluted times. And it certainly feels like the decline in swimming quality in recent years extends indoors as well as outdoors. The Wyndley or Beeches Leisure Centres near my part of Sutton Coldfield just don’t hold much appeal for me. Sure there are bodies of water there, but nothing to lift your spirit while using them and the constraints, in terms of the narrow time slots and even narrower lanes you are confined to, are the very opposite of my earliest experiences of water. I am lucky enough to be able to afford the local David Lloyd Centre, with much less pressure on their pools, in particular their excellent outdoor pool in Birmingham, which is miraculously underused. On a day with bright sun, with the birds singing and a light breeze rustling the trees just enough to drown out the industrial hum from next door and push back the smell of solvents, I can sometime almost imagine I am back in the Singapore Swimming Club.

But generally when you attempt to venture outside you find the constraints are even greater than those at Wyndley swimming pool. According to the Right to Roam campaign group we only have access to 3% of rivers in England. Meanwhile the Outdoor Swimming Society are campaigning for swimming access to reservoirs.

On land we have slightly more access, but half of the land area of England is owned by around 1% of the population. As Guy Shrubsole points out:

The aristocracy and landed gentry still own around 30% of England, whilst the country’s homeowners own just 5% of the land. The public sector owns around 8% of England; the country’s 24 non-Royal Dukes own a million acres of Britain.

I can only redistribute some space in my direction, on a train, in a pool of water, by paying more than most can afford for those experiences, and allowing me to behave like a non-Royal Duke for a short time.

This has huge implications for carbon sequestration of course, with, for example, 60% of deep peat owned by just 124 landowners. These landowners are not looking after it very well either, with upland peat being degraded as a result of moorland burning for grouse moors, and lowland peat in the Fens and elsewhere being damaged through drainage for intensive agriculture. As a result, England’s peat soils are now a net source of carbon emissions rather than a sink, leaking around 11 million tonnes of CO₂ annually. The Government has committed to protecting 30% of land in the UK for nature by 2030, but is itself hugely constrained by the concentrated ownership of land.

So our land is like our swimming pools: tightly constrained by the narrow time slots and narrower lanes most of us are allowed access to. We are being stifled by the property rights of a tiny minority.

Kind of an asshole

20. January 2025 · Write a comment · Categories: Birmingham, Education

I went to see A Complete Unknown this weekend. The music was rendered brilliantly, Timothee Chalamet inhabited the character of Dylan compellingly and Edward Norton was astonishing as Pete Seeger. And I felt welling emotion watching it.

I first was really aware of Dylan in the 70s, when I was most intensely interested in music for the first time more generally. However I didn’t really like 70s Dylan. I particularly didn’t like the arrangements on Bob Dylan at Budokan (Live), which seemed to be omnipresent at times. I then got interested again in the 80s when he repelled many of his fans with the religious records and went back to the 60s stuff on the back of that, which resonated with me very deeply. In the 90s and noughties I got interested all over again with Time Out Of Mind and Modern Times. I finally got to see him play in 2010 in Birmingham and, like most people who tried, failed to get tickets to see him last year in Wolverhampton. And that is my history with Bob. However this piece isn’t really about that.

In A Complete Unknown we see Dylan arrive in New York in 1961 at the age of 20 and follow him all the way to the July 1965 Newport Folk Festival when he went electric for the first time at the age of 24. So these are the doings of a very young man, whom Joan Baez refers to as “kind of an asshole” in the film.

This got me thinking about what I did between the ages of 20 and 24. To quote another Dylan line, I “just kind of wasted my precious time”. I wasted most of it at the University of Oxford. I had spent seven very happy years at a school in Oxford before going there, five of them actually living in the city as a boarder, so my unhappiness was definitely with the people and institutions of the university rather than their location. And I was seen as so much of an asshole myself that I left with no friends from my university days other than people I had known before going there and a group of chemists from a different college who I ended up sharing a house with in my middle year because noone in my own college wanted to.

However unlike Dylan, whose assholery clearly had a purpose and was for him a way of getting his art done in the way he wanted to do it, mine was of a more self-pitying unproductive kind. I hated the structures the very confident people were building around me but followed them anyway, all the way into my first job which was for a company which made ID cards for the Chilean and Syrian regimes. I realise now, thanks to the excellent Butler to the World by Oliver Bullough among many other things I have read since, that I was being prepared for a career of facilitating power and, although I would not have been able to articulate this at the time, I like to think that I resented this on some level even then.

It took me another 20 years to recover from my university education and those structures of power seem more confident than ever. However now I realise how brittle that confidence is and how little we know about the foundations we base it on, I feel much more optimistic about the prospects for challenging it and putting something kinder in its place.

I went for a walk to mull over how to finish this piece earlier and today I got a bit of help. Heading back via the newsagents where I like to monitor the front pages each day, I was just taking in how they all seemed to be celebrating the return of the three Israeli hostages when a man pushed past me and grabbed a Daily Mail from the front of the pile. As he turned back on his way to the till he glared at me and snarled “You’re supposed to buy them you know”, before stomping off.

By the time this gets to some of you via your inboxes Donald Trump will have been sworn in as the 47th President of the United States (POTUS), eight years on from when he became the 45th. The UK will be facilitating him like crazy over the next four years, just like we have facilitated the destruction of Gaza over the last 15 months, all cheered on by most of the media. But we don’t have to buy what they’re selling.

18.03 to Oxford

25. November 2024 · Write a comment · Categories: Birmingham

Last Thursday I ended up on the 18.03 train from Birmingham New Street to Oxford with my daughter. We weren’t meant to be there. We were meant to be on the 8 carriage 17.03, but this, along with all of its seat reservations, was cancelled due to lack of train crew. The 18.03 had 4 carriages, so as we watched it roll into the station, each carriage full all the way down the aisles and also between them and the two of us both with big suitcases on the platform, my heart sank. There was no way we were getting on this train. Sure enough, when the train stopped, none of the queues at any of the doors seemed to be moving. It looked hopeless and the next train, for which there was no guarantee that the same thing wouldn’t happen again, was not for another hour.

Then something unexpected happened: two women who had managed to get on came back for us and engineered our way onto the train.

And so the worst train journey of my life began. I have been on trains all over Europe, including 16 hours travelling from Paris to Pisa with one seat for two people, but this one was in a different category altogether. Because the brilliant wheeze the two women had come up with which had created a space where none should rightly be was to occupy the Pendolino toilets.

There were 7 of us in there in all. The two lovely women, my daughter and I, another woman who I will call Queenie for reasons which will become clearer and two other men who I will call woolly hat and plastic jacket. We took it in turns to try and find a humorous take on our circumstances. The hand dryer’s irregular blowing was a great help here. We couldn’t work out which combination of timers, sensors or general boredom was driving this and the toilet flush for that matter, so that kept the conversation going for a while. But that wasn’t going to get us to Oxford.

There were doubts about whether the train was going to either, as it got more and more delayed. We arrived at the first station (Birmingham International) and the first of the regular pleas from the train guard – imprisoned at the first class end of the train as he was – came across the tannoy. We were apparently focused on the wrong problem, where we should have been focused on his problem, which was that of leaving people on the platforms due to his overloaded train. We needed to all get out of the toilet (actually I don’t think he knew we were in the toilet), off the train and onto the platform, so that more people could not claim against the train company under delay repay. Then we could take our chances trying to get back on board, when not even the toilet was available any more. You can imagine that we were unconvinced about what was in it for us in this scenario. A sense of solidarity and community was starting to build amongst the toiletistas by now.

There was another moment of drama when what sounded like an alarm went off, until I remembered that this was the technological triumph they had trumpeted back in the noughties for Pendolino trains. We were about to experience tilting toilets.

About two thirds of the way there we had another challenge. One man had been bold enough to squeeze his way in amongst the toiletistas and requested to use the facilities we had occupied. He said that his only request was that we all look the other way, and proceeded to keep up a steady stream of quips throughout the visit: “Not sure I can go with 150 people standing behind me”, “This may take a while as I am an older man” etc. He lost some of our sympathy when he announced he was going back to his reserved seat now.

At this point Queenie decided to close the toilet seat and sit on it. From the newly created throne of the toiletistas, she started tweeting “from the throne” which got us through Leamington Spa and Banbury. The only thing that was able to shift Queenie was another woman shuffling in and also asking to use the facilities. She had a whole load of additional demands however. Only women allowed in the toilet area for one. Closing the door was another. So we separated the men from the women, the men shuffled out and the women shuffled in.

By this time the guard had given up completely. He was talking darkly about how “sarky remarks and gestures were not appreciated”. We were losing toiletistas too. The lovely women left at Banbury. Another man arrived, with his mistress I think. He started complaining about property values and school fees and the unreasonableness of his wife in a kind of Hugh Bonneville drone which would have emptied the toilet republic far faster than the guard’s announcements ever could.

But for us the journey was over, finally rolling into Oxford around 7.30. We left the remaining toiletistas, bound for Southampton unfortunately, and headed out into the moonlit dreaming spires.

Crosscountry trains, the train operators responsible for all this are owned by Arriva UK Trains, who are themselves owned by Arriva, which is owned by Deutsche Bahn, the German nationalised railway. Remember this the next time the representative of the train operators tells you that nationalisation is the wrong answer as it is a political rather than a practical solution. Being nationalised from Berlin did not look all that practical from the toilet seat.

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