Nudge nudge

We’ve all, at some time or other tried to coerce people into doing something they didn’t want to do by disguising it as something else. “Here comes the choo-choo!” and “a starving child in Africa would be grateful for that… “ Many manipulative people regularly try to sell you an idea by trying to make you think it was yours. And the perennial marketing maxim is: Sell the sizzle, not the sausage. Nudge.

‘Special’ offers are advertised for limited periods only, the notion that if you buy in bulk everything is cheaper, even though you really just end up with more than you wanted of stuff you didn’t need. Shelves and packaging are carefully arranged and designed so that premium priced products look good and are easy to find, while the bargain basement product clearly advertises its poverty appeal. Nudge.

Of course, a discerning consumer would never be led astray by such devices; once you know the trick the magic becomes mundane. One would think. And yet still we fall for the same old ploys, even when we know the bargain is a con, the opportunity is only an opportunity for the producer and no matter how many lottery tickets we buy, the chances are slim-to-nothing of a big win. But, hey, those lucky dips, amirite?

The art of nudging, in a wide population sense is all around us. Get the kids to lecture the parents on climate change, baffle them with pseudoscience and saturate the airwaves with lefty commentator after lefty commentator to sell the idea that right wing terrorism which has claimed practically zero lives (even then, only by labelling oddball loners as members of some shadowy group to which they’ve never belonged) is far more dangerous than islamic terrorism which daily accounts for untold misery and death worldwide.

Embed guilt and shame over slavery, of which none of us have ever been guilty, in order to engender superior treatment for people of whom none have ever been slaves. Critical race theory, black lives matter, social justice, climate crisis, the ever imperilled NHS… they are all nudges to coerce people into doing things they may not otherwise contemplate. They are all quite open and obvious tactics.

But the government now stands accused of stealth nudging and as always somebody - in this case author Laura Dodsworth - needs somebody else to blame. Her open letter to the Public Administration and Constitutional Affairs Committee will strike a chord with those already predisposed to assume that the government is always up to no good. She refers to the Behavioural Insights Team as if they were Dr Evil’s devilish psyops henchmen, whose every waking moment is hell bent on harm.

But I see a couple of flaws in her argument. For one, as a great many people have been saying for two years now, governments have been engaged in a very obvious Project Fear, about as far from stealth as you could imagine. For another, wouldn’t it be very odd indeed if governments didn’t seek to influence behaviour by coercive rather than compulsive means? The great tyranny that some are intent on seeing wouldn’t bother with subtle appeals to reason, it would surely just plough ahead and compel.

You will begin to feel sleepy...

And, of course, such tactics are hardly new, or necessarily sinister. Walls have ears. Dig for Victory. Coughs and sneezes spread diseases. All campaigns from the past to persuade, coerce, cajole us into behaviours which benefit us all. And pretty much every movie, TV drama and soap opera these days is riddled with right-on messaging; it can’t be intended to produce no effect at all. Laura has a book to sell you. This doesn’t mean that she is necessarily wrong in her basic premise, but it is hardly an earth-shattering revelation and I, for one, believe her conclusions are overblown.

Biting the Hand

In history there have always been those behind the scenes, tugging at the levers of power. Wives, mistresses, meddlesome priests; some unknown, some who have achieved notoriety, some written into the history books and others whose flame briefly flared then sputtered and died to become a mere footnote. What fate, I wonder, awaits Dominic Cummings?

Rasputin-like he appeared to instil fear and awe in his enemies and was never shy in naming them. Many cheered when he made public his mission to take on the establishment. Many felt that he had too much of a hold on Boris Johnson’s thinking, but the odd combination of the product of Eton and privilege alongside a bright student from relatively humble beginnings seemed to strike a chord.

The electorate gave this unlikely combo a mandate not seen in many years and watched as they set out to work. Cummings once described by a tutor as "fizzing with ideas, unconvinced by any received set of views… determined to bring down things that don’t work." Sought to recruit others to his factory of chaos, from which would emerge a new order, with Boris at the helm of a dreadnought of state.

It didn’t quite pan out. And even as Keir Starmer accuses Johnson of blaming everybody but himself, Cummings has come out and placed the blame squarely at the Prime Minister’s feet. In a recent statement he has declared it his mission to remove the PM from office, likening the task to ‘fixing the drains’.

Whilst few would disagree with many of his unflattering appraisals, he is hardly executing his plot in the requisite Machiavellian manner. No iron fist in a velvet glove for him, but a massive, all-too obvious demolition ball which threatens to bring down not just the figurehead but the whole edifice. Never particularly likeable, or convivial, always a bit of a misanthrope, he now seems more like a Marvel super-villain, plotting the destruction of the world he has never really understood. The world of humans turned its back on him, but he will wreak his revenge, mwuhahahaa!

Post politics, Boris will continue to enjoy fame and notoriety and no doubt a wide circle of shallow but fun friends. It is doubtful anybody will want to consult his genius, but neither will he haunt the world stage like the wizened Phantom of the Opera, Tony Blair, forever seeking ever more influence. Boris will move on, pen a few well remunerated newspaper articles, write the odd book and grow disgracefully old.

Cummings plots his next move...

Cummings, on the other hand will barely be remembered. No Robespierre, he, as that same tutor suggested. No power behind the throne, no architect of change. No doubt he will find himself leading an uninfluential think tank, poorly funded and far from any inner circle. If he is likened to any well-known character it will probably be Gollum. Crazed, enraged and forever looking for his precious, apparently unaware that the key to his reward was Boris himself.

The Science Bit

You all know the science bit is bollocks, right? I mean, you don’t buy that skin cream because it contains therapeutic glycine cerameloid pearls, do you? Do you? It has nothing to do with science and everything to do with hope, and if you don’t believe me, try listening to an interesting podcast The Best Thing Since Sliced Bread. It sets out to examine the claims of numerous products, techniques, thinking even, which are marketed using claims which are – well, to call them exaggerated is probably too kind. But here’s a really odd thing that appears to be borne out by actual (not L’Oriel) science. The placebo effect may be increasing.

For many years it has been well know, so much so that nobody can be unaware, that in clinical treatment trials patients given placebos often exhibit therapeutic benefits above the control groups given nothing at all. Less well known, but becoming increasingly apparent, is the nocebo effect whereby patients experience adverse symptoms, such as side effects, when given placebos rather than active treatments. This is due to negative expectations often influenced by factors like healthcare beliefs, the media, the internet and social conditioning.

These two effects also seem to migrate to politics. If you expect a Conservative government to have a positive effect on the economy you may well perceive such effects regardless of whether any measurable benefit is there. And if you believe that the nasty Tories hate the LGBTQIXPALLYDOCIOUS community, it is likely you will be seen out on marches bearing whiny banners saying ‘Something, something, something Tories…”

I have had fun over the last couple of years confessing my ignorance and my largely indifferent reaction to ‘the Covid’. For the majority of the population that is their reaction to politics. Most people really don’t much care what the ‘facts’ are; unless they see measurable differences in their lifestyles neither one side nor the other makes much difference. The majority, if they vote at all, cast their ballot for tribal, familial preferences, which is why most general elections end in anti-climax.

It makes little difference who gets in; if it’s Labour we perceive Labour outcomes, if Tory, then Conservative ones. For many years our political parties have struggled on as homeopathic versions of their original charters, dilutions to the n^th degree, harmless at any dose. But imagine the effect if one political party or another actually added some active ingredient to their sugar pill? As a thought experiment, what if whoever wins actually decided to make good on their promises? Imagine the buzz if the decaffeinated versions of our current political parties were to go full-leaded!

Of course, none of this would happen. The revolution we pretend to crave is quietly shelved when reality bites. You can have equality and social justice (whatever the hell that means) just so long as you are happy to work away and pay 99% of your income in tax while most of your neighbours stand idle. Yes, you may have excellent education and superb job prospects, just as long as you recognise that well over 75% of the population are not up to it and you are more likely to be among that majority.

To take strong medicine you must be prepared to suffer the side effects. Politically these may include, but not be limited to: abject poverty, cruelty, injustice, high crime rates, loss of agency, heavy handed policing, racism, sexism, social upheaval, class war and various forms of apartheid. Not the imaginary versions we have now, but the actual things. Is it any wonder we prefer our science diluted to taste?

May your god go with you

Watching Professor Andre Sella’s Faraday Prize lecture on YouTube yesterday  I swear I heard him make a passing reference to James Delingpole, whose climate scepticism is freely aired whenever given the opportunity. And if such an opportunity fails to materialise, he doesn’t take that as any impediment. I believe he has a similar denialist stance on the Covid epidemic, but I became disappointed by him before all this.

It must be quite the annoyance, as a scientist, an expert in your field, to have your life’s work dismissed simply because your conclusions are deemed inconvenient by a mere spectator. I imagine eminent epidemiologists are scratching their heads in dismay as the actor, Laurence Fox, or the fake ‘scientist’ Gillian shit-stirrer McKeith tell whomever will listen, that you are a liar. Their belief trumps, to coin a phrase, your knowledge.

Twas ever thus, but what fascinates me is the journey on which these naysayers embark. We’ve all encountered those who, unable to succinctly show their own calculations, demand that we ‘do some research’ to discover their truth. As a starting point they often post a link to some long-discredited study, or opinion pieces such as young Master Delingpole produce, as a prelude to blocking and thus, in their imagination, winning the argument.

But at what point does a poorly informed scepticism begin to take a deeper hold? How does a furtive fumble through the seedier neighbourhoods of the online world become a mission? And where does the madness really begin? A common theme I’ve noticed is that many of the biggest anti-truth zealots start out with an easy, laissez faire scepticism, but end up as fanatic devotees of cult-like beliefs. This is religious zealot grade madness at work.

Much is made these days about mental health (when all many people really need is an occasional slap to bring them to their senses) but it is often predicated on the false premise that it is never your own fault. Yes, bad things happen to good people, but bad things happen to all people. And very often the very worst of bad things happen to the very worst of people; but this doesn’t make for an easy aphorism. (Although, ‘live by the sword, die by the sword’ seems rather apt.) So, in my book, the mental health excuse falls rather flat; you are the architect of your own legacy.

We live in a world where eminence can quickly count for little. A great authority loses all credibility when their personal life is held to be less than acceptable. (And who defines acceptability?) Who cares what the doctor says, when a footballer says different? And the great Andrew Neil must rue the day he helped found GB News, as a result of which he now appears to be on bended knee to the über-woke Channel 4.

Forget objective proof, clinical trials, peer reviews and all that tiresome factual stuff. Nowadays we are in thrall to influencers and the evidence means nothing. I suspect we were always more the biddable acolyte than the sceptical, studious pupil. Instead of a long, hard slog to the top of your trade, all you need now is a leg up the greasy pole, to perch precariously on the top for a few minutes. Make your way to that nebulous podium and the idiots will tag along in their droves until the next dodgy fad takes their fancy. So, if you do plan to hop aboard the next coming theology, do choose your gods wisely.

Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

In response to those who say, “Oh, come off it, it was just a bit of cake”. Or, “what did you want - for the dogs to be abandoned to the Taliban?” Or “Who cares who paid for the wallpaper?” the complainants are now insisting “We just want to be told the truth. We just want transparency. We don’t want to be lied to.” A shame then that they don’t hold themselves to the same standards when concocting a simple lie about the Foreign Secretary using an expensive ‘private jet’ when she in fact used an official government aircraft manned by the Royal Air Force.

Did you ever tell your kids about Father Christmas, the Easter Bunny, or the Tooth Fairy? Well there you go. But, you will protest, at that age they need to be protected from the harsh realities of the big, bad world, and a bit of pretend magic does no harm, surely? Would you be surprised if the salesmen of wine companies, while forbidding pilfering, see no harm in helping themselves to their product while wooing new business? Do you really believe that stationery manufacturers don’t covet the odd paperclip?

In many parts of the world – including all those holier-than-thou, Labour-run councils – a backhander, a bung, a little sweetener is an open secret. The wheels of commerce are greased by lies, insider information, nepotism and graft. And nobody bats an eyelid. Why should we hold governments up to a level of scrutiny we rarely manage for ourselves? And what, seriously, is wrong with a leader possessing a few human foibles? Let he who is without sin and all that…

Dare you even imagine a world run by perfect humans? My god, what A sanctimonious, joyless, beige place that would be. We love our pantomime villains, our cads, our rogues; so what is it about petty politics that turns mediocre public figures into arbiters of the greatest virtues? Do they imagine the public applaud their daring quest to uncover the truth, or is it more likely, to paraphrase Colonel Jessop said in A Few Good Men, that they can’t handle the truth?

The latest anti-Johnson hashtag doing the rounds is #ALiarNotALeader and it is predictably being promoted by the same old toothless circus lions who have, no doubt, never in their lives lied to gain any sort of advantage. Hypocrisy, thy name is Davey, Rayner, Starmer, Lucas, Blackford, and so on and so on and so on. The emotional investment alone must qualify them for therapy.

I really hold no candle for Boris Johnson (I feel the need to keep saying this) but don’t you just get bored when the same tired old hacks trot out the same tired old lies of their own? They told the electorate a million times before the election that Johnson is a liar. The electorate voted for him in their millions (and yes, the UK general election IS now a presidential style affair) knowing exactly what they would get.

So what that the Met asked Sue Gray to delay publication? ‘They’ wanted the police involved, but now that they are they cry foul. Establishment fix! Conveniently forgetting, of course, that in this case ‘the establishment’ is their own. Cressida Dick, I’m sure, would be delighted to scupper Johnson. And her boss politico, Sadiq Khan, must be salivating at the chance. I neither know nor care how the police will interpret events, but it isn’t Big Dog who is riding roughshod over democracy here.