Walter Humes
How much do the words on the mace mean?
Photograph by Islay McLeod
Consider a future Scotland in which the following features are in evidence:
There are no longer any broadsheet national newspapers. The circulation of both the Scotsman and the Herald has declined to the point where they have had to cease publication. Insofar as people take any interest in current affairs, it is satisfied by 60-second news summaries on television and headlines on the internet. TV programmes, even more so than at present, are dominated by ‘boasting and humiliation’ game shows, celebrity trash and therapy sessions for narcissistic presenters. The availability of multi-channel options means that is there is virtually no collective experience of viewing.
The financial services sector has failed to regain a reputation for probity and continues to show a propensity for arrogance and greed. Vulture capitalists are adept at pouncing on ailing businesses. Front-line staff in banks are required to operate policies that they know are not in the interests of customers, by selling them products which they either do not need or which will not bring the benefits promised. Senior managers have no qualms about continuing to introduce schemes which are driven by their bonus potential rather than their wider social or economic value.
The Scottish legal system remains complacent about its merits despite the incidence of too many miscarriages of justice and failures of the prosecution system. The establishment of a single police force covering the whole country is presented as an opportunity to reduce costs and increase efficiencies, but there is growing unease about the monolithic nature of the bureaucracy. Junior officers complain about the difficulty of raising concerns about managerial practices and civil liberty groups highlight the problem of ensuring external accountability within a single-force framework.
Despite a plethora of policy initiatives, there is no significant reduction in levels of social inequality. Indeed the gap between the rich and the poor, the healthy and the unhealthy, the employed and those living entirely on benefits, continues to increase. Commentators fear the outbreak of social unrest as feelings of exclusion and alienation rise.
Criticism of Creative Scotland and other ‘establishment’ cultural organisations intensifies. There is a growing divide between those writers and artists who are prepared to accept patronage from the state and its proxy agencies and those who prefer to pursue their craft independently, without having to pay lip-service to the favoured corporate discourse of the moment.
Universities cease to be regarded as avenues of opportunity as the prospects for graduate employment commensurate with qualifications and skills are simply not available in a period of economic recession. There is criticism of the relationship that has developed between some universities and the private sector, a relationship that is regarded as being driven by financial imperatives rather than by a commitment to free intellectual inquiry. Questions begin to be asked about the distribution of resources between the different sectors of education, with some arguing that funds should be switched from higher education to the pre-school sector, on the grounds that this might be a better means of counteracting social disadvantage.
The political classes show no capacity to change their ways in the face of mounting evidence of failure. Instead of beginning to tackle the substantive issues head-on, they rely ever more heavily on shallow rhetoric and the dark arts of public relations, misinformation, leaks and character assassination. There is no genuine ideological debate about different visions of the good society. Everything is seen in terms of expediency and short-term advantage.
Of course, none of these scenarios should be regarded as inevitable, though on the basis of present evidence all are possible. Each one on its own would be unfortunate but, in combination, they would signify a bleak future. What they have in common is the progressive undermining of democratic systems and processes. A healthy democracy requires well-informed citizens who have access to reliable information. It also needs to have confidence in those who are in charge of banks, building societies and other financial institutions. Equally important is trust in the legal framework and the professionals who operate it: when things go wrong the mechanisms to investigate have to be credible and transparent.
My purpose in speculating in this way is not to plunge readers into a mood of cavernous gloom. Rather it is to emphasise that underlying the day-to-day configurations of social and political events is a much more fundamental question about the kind of democracy Scotland aspires to be. It is naïve to assume that simply altering the constitutional position of Scotland will immediately lead to a resolution of the dangers I have described. They will have to be faced whatever the outcome of the referendum.
The self-regarding claims that are so often made for Scottish society by all political parties – symbolised in the words on the mace of the Scottish Parliament (wisdom, justice, compassion and integrity) – owe as much to myth as to any dispassionate reading of our history. It is time for a reality check in which we look long and hard at unpalatable facts – including institutional failure, poor leadership and the erosion of trust – as we try to decide how best to shape the nation’s future.
Walter Humes held professorships at the universities of Aberdeen, Strathclyde and West of Scotland and is now a visiting professor
of education at the University of Stirling
