Social Policy

Viscount Eccles Excerpts

Wednesday 16th June 2010 Lords Chamber

[Viscount Eccles]

My Lords, I add my thanks to the right reverend Prelate the Bishop of Leicester for introducing this debate and my congratulations to the noble Lord, Lord Wei. As I follow the right reverend Prelate the Bishop of Chester, I wish to make a boxing analogy with regard to partnerships. If you get into a boxing ring as the most fleet of foot lightweight in the world and you meet a heavyweight, the heavyweight has to land only one punch. When we think about partnerships between the state and whoever, we should not forget that.

At this time in the evening, following the speeches of four right reverend Prelates and one most reverend Primate, it is difficult not to reflect a bit on how we have got to where we are. We probably would not have our democracy if it had not been for the Church of England. The way in which powerful institutions stood between the king and the people has got us to where we are. Sometimes when we get into all the detail, we forget how we got to where we are. Indeed, the Motion refers to “shaping social policy”. In saying that, it distinguishes between policy implementation and the creation of policy. It asks us to think a bit about directions of travel rather than detailed implementation. Probably 10 people can make a contribution to policy shaping whereas probably only one or two are very good at implementation. If one takes child poverty as just one example, it is easy to have a pretty clear idea about what you would like to do about it, but not so easy to achieve it. I wish to separate policy and implementation.

Many people have shaped social policy—classically, Charles Dickens, and later, Orwell. I interpose here that some of these people were romantics. Some of the comment on getting from romanticism to reality disregards the fact that the people who start these processes are very often romantics; for example, T S Eliot and, I suggest, Archbishop Temple. Then we come to perhaps the most outstanding shaper of social policy, Beveridge, and his 1942 report. Beveridge was a liberal public servant. All of the members of his team who wrote the 300-page report were civil servants.

Today, we have talked a lot about the big society and the shaping of social policy under it. Social policy has developed far beyond Beveridge. Some of the developments have been extremely beneficial and some of them much more questionable. Why has this happened? I suppose the principal reason is that science and technology have moved on, particularly medical knowledge. When we think of that, we need to remember that Governments do not control the pace of technological advance. I can remember 1942 and the excitement of the Beveridge report. We were then relatively poor; now we are relatively rich. Today, civil servants—like those who formed Beveridge’s team—are at a discount; advisers are at a premium and there are 170,000 registered charities. In today’s circumstances, who will get themselves heard and to whom should we listen?

These are complicated issues. I suppose that examples might include Frank Field. He could reasonably aspire to be a successor to Beveridge. We can then think of some of the institutions whose research and thinking we all admire, and which have been in existence for a considerable period—the King’s Fund on medical matters, the Joseph Rowntree Foundation and the Howard League for Penal Reform. All are notable for their independence. I could add—I hope that I can add—the Church of England to that list. It is, I hope, also notable for its independence. Then there are the media, particularly the weeklies. There is much that we can absorb from their thinking, which is nothing to do with the detailed implementation of particular policies—although these institutions will of course comment upon that. However, they sit somewhat apart from the thrust of day-to-day activity.

Then there is implementation. As the noble Lord, Lord Low of Dalston, said, diversity is a wonderful thing, but it can become a muddle. When thinking about the way in which our social policy should develop, we could, if the right reverend Prelates will forgive me, be rebuilding the tower of Babel.

I offer these final thoughts about those to whom we need to listen. The best people to listen to are those who receive no taxpayers’ money and are genuinely independent. The institutions that I mentioned do not receive significant amounts of taxpayers’ money. Some are involved in small projects for which they are paid public money, but, in general, they are private and independent. I include among them university departments as well as the philosophers—even the unpopular ones; of course Mr Scruton immediately comes to mind—and the writers of today. They are the successors to Dickens, Orwell and TS Eliot.

Second best is when government come into it; they should come in at arm’s length, not with a partnership but with a contract, with clear terms of reference and transparent accountability. You cannot expect the state to act in the way that the Oxford English Dictionary defines a partnership, whereby you share equally in the profits and liabilities. I am sorry, but the state is not on for that. When the liabilities become too great, it will change the rules. Therefore, a much tougher relationship between the state and civil society, in which civil society stands up for itself and negotiates its side of each and every bargain, will serve us much better.