Quantum Subjectivity – Understanding the Dual Consciousness of David Cameron by Joe Crawford (University of St Andrews)


In September, Prime Minister David Cameron wrote to Oxfordshire County Council to ask what more they could do to ameliorate the very cuts that his government has imposed across the country as part of its never-ending-austerity programme.   The irony of this needs no further elaboration.

I wish to use this blog post to propose three possible explanations for David Cameron’s actions.

The first and most simple explanation is that the man known as ‘Call me Dave’ is a ‘liberal’ in the general (and worst) sense of the term.  Among a great many other problems, the liberal condition has a very strong tendency to decouple all that is inextricably linked while aligning all that is disparate.  For example, on one level (say, the liberal myth of meritocracy) there is no ‘perceived’ connection between rich and poor in the sense that the existence of one has no ‘obvious or visible’ determining effect on the existence of the other (rich people are seen as being talented and hardworking, poor people are lazy and feckless).  Yet in another sense liberalism aligns a diverse range of people (with vastly uneven and unequal volumes of economic and cultural capital) with politically motivated rhetorical sound bites such as ‘we are all in this together’, ‘we all need to tighten our belts; or ‘we should all pay our fair share’…etc.  Dave has himself produced a very useful example by recently decoupling any connection between the rise of ISIS and western military intervention in Iraq, and by aligning disparate groups of people who oppose the bombing of Syria under the broad rubric of ‘terrorist sympathisers’.  This is what liberal politicians, journalists and academics have a strong tendency to do, they decouple all that is linked and align all that is disparate.  So, in his letter to Oxfordshire council, Dave seems to have decoupled any link between his own party’s austerity measures and the cuts being made to his local council services and aligned the government, local and county councils and the public in sharing responsibility for the task of doing all they can to lessen the impact of the cuts (which his government is responsible for imposing).

The second explanation for understanding this situation revolves around the notion that Cameron is exercising a form of ‘cynical practice’ (see Crawford and Flint 2015).  This form of cynicism arises when professionals (often public sector managers) are all too aware of the distance between the reality (what can realistically happen) and the mask they wear in public (the pretence they wish to promote), yet still insist on wearing the mask (despite everyone’s acknowledgement of the distance between the two).  Carlen’s (2008: 20) example is useful’

For while ‘everyone knows’ that the chief inspector was only ‘doing his job’, ‘everyone else knows’ that in-prison programmes and decent regimes are almost certainly not in themselves going to reduce offending…So why lose credibility (or your promotion, or even your job if you are a prison officer or a prison governor) by continuing to say what everyone else always and already knows?

Perhaps then, since Cameron knows that austerity is a political rather than economic programme, his letter to Oxfordshire council could well be a cynical ploy.  He knows what he’s doing but pretends he doesn’t know.  Dave could be playing a double bluff.

Thirdly, there is what I’ve decided to call ‘quantum subjectivity’ a concept similar to the psychological  notion of ‘cognitive dissonance’ but without there being too much ‘dissonance’ involved.  Quantum subjectivity arises when an agent harbours two (mostly contradictory) positions on the same subject.  The position which emerges depends almost entirely on the situation within which the agent finds him/herself.  We don’t know a person’s position  until we engage them, an activity which always takes place within a context, located within both social and physical space.

Think Schrodinger’s cat.  Is it alive?  Is it dead?  Until you look (thus pinning it down to one state or the other) it is both at the same time.  A quantum particle can be in two places simultaneously, only once you pin it down (by observing it), does it provide its location.  In sociological terms, what a person ‘thinks’ is often determined, not by their social position (as classical sociology might suggest), but by the situation in which they find themselves when they are ‘pinned down’ to having to express an opinion.  My own research provides useful examples.  When discussing eviction practices with housing professionals, they would freely alternate between structural and individual discourses depending on the context. On one hand they would adopt a position in which structural factors played the most significant role in the causes of rent arrears (the problem was collectivised and therefore depersonalised), and in another context would adopt a position quite the opposite of that, where it was the irresponsible behaviour of the tenant which was the issue (the problem is then individualised and thoroughly personalised).  So, in short, the same professionals, from the same offices, oscillated between the same binary frames in order to deal with the contradictions contained within the practice of evicting tenants.  Quantum subjectivity, it seems, allows professionals to deal with the inherent contradictions, political tensions, and moral ambiguities which have come to characterise modern ‘public service’ provision in the UK.

The ‘quantum subjectivity’ explanation suggests that David Cameron’s position on austerity is determined by the situation in which he finds himself.  When Dave is at home, in Oxfordshire, drinking tea in the garden with his wife and children, the effects of the cuts to his local services appear to him to be so severe, he is compelled to write to the council to ask why more cannot be done to reduce their impact.  When David Cameron is in Parliament, surrounded by his Bullingdon Club chums, all braying like donkeys, manically waving their order papers as they ridicule and berate those in opposition, the government’s austerity programme seems the most sensible policy for dealing with problems, the real impact of which David Cameron appears to know absolutely nothing about.

Two entirely different positions.

Two entirely different worlds.


Pictures [from David Cameron’s (Tenant’s) special relationship with Scotland] are published with kind permission from Greg Moodie


By Joe Crawford (University of St Andrews)



‘When an uprising of the property owning classes in Hampshire is your best hope for the future you know you’re in trouble’ By Andy Inch (University of Sheffield)

This is a post about the land-use planning system in England. This is not a subject that makes it high up the list of topics that ‘critical urbanists’ tend to consider sexy, or even perhaps remotely interesting. Still, I make no apologies for that. You see planning is in a pretty parlous state in England. Successive governments have identified governmental control of the use and development of land as a regulatory burden and a significant barrier to economic growth. At times the construction of planning as a key economic problem has reached heights of absurdity that a fine comic writer would be proud of.

I remember watching the BBCs ‘Newsnight’ not long after the 2010 election when Danny Alexander, Chief Secretary to the Treasury and Harriet Harman’s favourite ginger rodent was on. Asked how the Coalition was going to sort out the broken British economy following the worst economic crisis in living memory Alexander cited planning reform as one of the two or three key ways in which the Government was going to unlock growth. That’s right. Planning Reform. It was as if he had stumbled across Michael Heseltine’s infamous speech from the early ‘80s and taken literally his reference to planners having ‘jobs locked in filing cabinets’. All they had to do was find the keys the idiot planners had lost.

Some time after that the government announced the first relaxation of permitted development rights. This somewhat arcane change to what homeowners are allowed to build without the need for planning permission was widely trailed in the media as another key plank of the government’s recovery package. As if the hassle of securing planning permission was the only thing preventing people from unleashing the wave of conservatories that was needed to bring back sustained prosperity. Bugger endogenous growth theory. We just need everyone in Hampshire to build a bigger sunroom.

Since then there has been initiative after initiative. According to Steve Quartermain, the lucky man who until recently went by the title ‘Chief Planner’ at the Department for Communities and Local Government, there wasn’t a single pre-budget statement in which George Osborne didn’t announce further deregulatory planning changes during the last parliament. It’s a trend that seems to be continuing.

This is hardly surprising. The ‘Treasury view’ of planning has long been informed by the basic Hayekian assumption that any attempt to plan economy or society is just another step along the road to serfdom. The fact that the right to develop land remains nationalized in England must seem like a painful anachronism from this perspective.

Depressingly the only thing that seems to be holding back the neoliberal attack are the thousands of Conservative voters sitting in their already amply proportioned sunrooms in Hampshire, tutting over the Daily Telegraph and relying on the planning system to preserve their green and pleasant views.

As Malcolm Tait and I argue in a forthcoming paper on the Coalition governments’ approach to planning reform, the Conservative political tradition has an uneasy and somewhat contradictory relationship to the idea of planning control. Different forms of conservative thought suggest very different attitudes towards planning, from the one nation ‘conservationism’ of the National Trust and CPRE through to neoliberal advocates of the raw efficiency of the market. These attitudes also draw on very different ‘spatial imaginaries’, the former generating deeply felt attachments to primarily rural landscapes, the latter viewing place as little more than a ‘competitive asset’. We argue in the paper that the balance of forces between these traditions defined the coalition government’s politically troubled oscillation between discourses of ‘growth’ and ‘localism’.

Since we shaped that argument, however, the steady onslaught of deregulatory pressure has built further. I now wonder whether we need to consider a slightly different interpretation, one with even bleaker political implications.

Speaking in 2010, Nick Boles, who was soon to become planning minister, suggested a seemingly more Schumpeterian view of planning. A view premised on the value of ‘creative destruction’:

Do you believe planning works? That clever people sitting in a room can plan how people’s communities should develop, or do you believe it can’t work? I believe it can’t work, David Cameron believes it can’t, Nick Clegg believes it can’t. Chaotic therefore in our vocabulary is a good thing.

What if we read the steady feed of deregulatory measures that have been passed since as a fairly successful programme for chaos; a strategic attempt to manage and overcome the tensions between different Conservative traditions whilst steadily pushing back against the idea of planning control?

Hugh Ellis from the Town and Country Planning Association is one of the few voices to highlight the significant negative effects that key, detailed changes to the policy regime are having. This includes, in no particular order:

  • The strengthening of a presumption in favour of (sustainable) development, coupled with the need for local authorities to have an up-to-date five year supply of land for new housing has made it much harder for local authorities to defend against unwanted speculative development.
  • The heightened emphasis on the financial ‘viability’ of development that has led to the loss of significant public benefits including large amounts of affordable housing that is typically negotiated from developer profit.
  • The changed definition of affordable housing that means developers only have to produce housing at 80% of market rates
  • The loss of space and sustainable building standards
  • Further changes to permitted development rights which mean that authorities now have no control over the conversion of existing offices, warehouses etc. into new housing. This is leading to the ongoing loss of large amounts of office space in high demand areas, particularly London; converted into homes without any means of checking whether the construction or space standards are adequate, or whether there is adequate provision of schools or open space.

It can be hard to get excited about these details of planning law and policy. But taken together these changes are substantial and represent the further hollowing out of planners’ capacity to regulate in the public interest.

Some of the changes, like the loss of control over new housebuilding, are bothering the retirees in their sunrooms and so may generate further political trouble for the Conservative party. Others, however, like the new permitted development rules, are not likely to affect them very much at all. As Ellis argues, however, these changes risk creating the slums of tomorrow; poor quality places that will have significant impacts on people’s lives, particularly those who have no other choice.

Planning control was created as a response to the effects of ‘chaos’ in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, prompting the society to react against the all too visible hand of the market. The legacy and reputation of planning is now so tarnished that we seem to have forgotten those lessons. Perhaps it will take the slums of tomorrow to remind people. In the meantime advocates of planning as a politically progressive force are left with few allies – when an uprising of the property owning classes in Hampshire* is your best hope for the future you know you’re in trouble.


*with all due apologies to the good people of Hampshire.


Andy Inch (University of Sheffield)


PLEASE NOTE: This post was originally received in January 2015 and therefore was written before the May 2015 general election.  Andy has kindly made a few tweaks in recent weeks to update the post.




Exposing the Illusion of Devolution By Alister Scott (Birmingham City University)

Recently our cities have been aloud with the disparate voices of devolution. This has risen like a proverbial phoenix from the aftermath of the Scottish referendum vote as the UK Government seeks to respond to criticisms of Whitehall domination of policy and decision making. Consequently, we see distinctive Scottish, English and Welsh expressions of “devo” reflecting both their different trajectories and power in the debate. In the English case the political imperative needs to redress the loss of regional autonomy which, when compared to the powerhouse of London, seems somewhat ironic given the rhetoric of Big Society and localism that have been defining characteristics of this government since 2010.

This then begs questions about what localism actually meant, means and will mean, given that now the political sound music is having to be reconstructed. Undoubtedly, there is an inherent attraction about our city regions having more power devolved from Whitehall. Raised expectations are everywhere which only makes the rhetoric all the more dangerous if such freedoms are not delivered. Yet within this constructed opportunity space there appears to be only one preset option available to secure the additional monies and power from the central government piggy bank.   This ‘managerial’ localism requires an elected mayor and is built upon a combined authorities’ model. However, despite pleas for tax raising revenues as in Scotland, the government have said no emphatically. This suggests a deficit of government trust in this local governance model delivering the kind of localism that they want.

So is this UK government pre-construction of localism fit for purpose? Many of our most pressing problems need strategic solutions where any governance model needs to work with, and across, scales and sectors to address the current disintegrated thinking and strategic planning vacuum that limits success. So the silos of housing, energy, biodiversity, employment growth, infrastructure (grey, blue and green), water management and climate change need better integration. Arguably the combined authorities model may not necessarily be the best fit for these diverse purposes as it appears that it is the money that is doing the talking, with cities scrambling to join in and have a piece of the action.

I certainly do not know or claim to have the answer on what is a complex and multilayered set of problems but it seems somewhat premature to rush hastily into this response when many people already seem dissatisfied and disengaged with our current models of local authority governance. So it is a valid to ask whether merging authorities within a further layer of political complexity through an elected mayor is a recipe for success or a political fudge?

In my mind, there should be a debate about what kind of structures are needed drawing on the lessons (positive and negative) from previous governance frameworks including regional planning. Drawing from our recent research on what successful policy and decision making looks like the primary ingredients revolve around different groups and sectors co-producing solutions rather than engineered political interventions at national and local levels that arguably are seeking to perpetuate, in some cases, discredited power bases. Behind such approaches there is strong leadership quality normally requiring them to operate outside the boundaries of the ‘box’.

Whatever expression takes root there is a major problem with the governance of our cities in the multitude of different geographies crossing the same space making coordination across the different sector priorities unnecessarily complex and largely elusive. So water (catchment management) biodiversity (local nature partnerships) economic development (local enterprise partnerships) planning (local and county/unitary authorities. Perhaps rather than add yet further layers we ought to think about a unifying landscape scale that is most relevant to these concerns ad ‘we’ the public who elect these politicians surely should have a say here. Otherwise I fear we will continue with the very disintegrated policy and public dissatisfaction that has created this political opportunity in the first place. So can I make a plea for our government and local authorities to perhaps consult their publics enabling us all to have a say in the kind of localism that we want rather than what is being allowed.

Prof. Alister Scott (@bcualisterscott)

The Big Society: Dead or Undead – Two Perspectives

Viewpoint 1: Dr Peter Matthews, University of Stirling (@urbaneprofessor)

You may think that the Big Society is now completely dead. The last time David Cameron did a major relaunch of it was over three years ago. However, it still keeps being plugged, most recently a year ago (apologies for the link to the Daily Mail). Most recently, the Big Society hit the headlines for all the wrong reasons with the National Audit Office investigating grants to the Big Society Network (see the excellent citizen reporting of Toby Blume for more on this).

It is undeniable that the UK coalition government, and David Cameron himself, are no longer putting the emphasis on the Big Society that they once were; the endless re-launches of the initiative that marked the first three years of the coalition have ended. The rise of UKIP and the growing pressures of austerity and other policy distractions have meant that the policy idea has lost any small degree of traction it once has.

Because of this, about a year ago, I was party to a conversation which included someone musing “does anyone do research on the Big Society anymore?” Given the paper I was currently working on with my co-author Prof. Annette Hastings had the “Big Society” in the title I was left feeling a little like the apocryphal students researching real existing socialism in the DDR in 1989, bravely fighting to keep the Berlin wall standing so they could complete their fieldwork.

However, the Big Society is still useful – particularly because it has become a metonym for so much more. Although the policy was quite separate from the localism policies, the one has come to represent the other. In launching the Big Society in 2010 David Cameron stated that:

“We know that the best ideas come from the ground up, not the top down. We know that when you give people and communities more power over their lives, more power to come together and work together to make life better – great things happen.”

Accepting this, we can argue that effectively the Big Society was the delivery mechanism, or the implementation phase, of localism. The Localism Act 2011 gave communities in England power over land-use planning, the community right-to-challenge, the community right-to-buy and the community right-to-bid. It now needed civic action to fill the gap the state was proposing to leave.

As a metonym it has proved particularly influential in academia – a quick google scholar search finds over 400,000 results since 2010. Part of this is because of the breadth of what it covers: the continued attempts by governments of all hues since the 1960s to empower and engage communities; the decades-old desire of governments to “decentralise” power (while often using these processes to cement centralisation); and the growing focus in policy on co-producing policy with communities and individuals rather than imposing solutions on them. As such, many of those 400,000 google hits are papers and commentaries that use the metonym to critique these bigger ideas.

While many critical researchers have looked into these areas, the most common intellectual traditions are critical theory and critical Marxism. The former, emerging from the work of Habermas, focuses on how practices of engagement diverge from the ideal of communicative action; the latter focuses on how structural inequalities are reproduced through governance processes. However, apart from the work of Jonathan Davies, very little work on political empowerment has engaged with the theoretical work of Pierre Bourdieu.

Bourdieu’s particular influence on class analysis has been his formulation of theoretical stance to understanding class distinction as cultural practice. As social actors in classed societies, we deploy unequally distributed economic, social and cultural capital when we act through our habitus deployed in social fields. A particular insight of Bourdieu that is useful for understanding policies such as the Big Society is the way that the capitals are deployed by individuals in a self-interested way, often quite strategic; as Bourdieu and Wacquant argued:

“The lines of action suggested by habitus may very well be accompanied by a strategic calculation of costs and benefits, which tends to carry out at a conscious level the operations that habitus carries out in its own way.”

Both the unconscious and conscious action from habitus also works to hide the unequal distribution of capitals, or to make their unequal distribution seem natural, through doxa.

Arguably, this is what the Big Society does. As demonstrated in my own research with Prof. Annette Hasting, there is strong evidence that middle-class people benefit disproportionately from the state because of their active engagement with it. In particular, of the four causal mechanisms we found by which this advantage is accrued, two – the alignment of cultural capital between users and providers; and the general favourable disposition of policy – are in evidence within the Big Society.

The Big Society normalises all the patterns of behaviour found in our review: neighbourhood planning and the community right-to-bid require organised skilled groups to lead processes which the middle classes are more likely to be members of. The idea of “armchair auditors” would mean the middle classes who complain more vociferously and more successfully. The greater cultural capital, and alignment of cultural capital, will mean middle class groups will be more successful in their interactions with the state. Yet the Big Society is presented as benefiting everyone at the very least, or in the grandest statements as benefiting the poorest most as it would empower them against their previous “reliance” on the state.

While initiatives like the community organisers may lead to investment in deprived communities, the massive cuts to local government expenditure across the UK and in England in particular, mean that services to give more marginalised communities voice, are those that are being slashed. The increasing focus in policy across the UK on using coproduction to reduce the costs of service delivery also belies some of these trends. It also ignores the fact that good coproduction often requires greater investment in services; services may be redesigned through coproduction but this will not necessarily save money.

If you wish to read a fuller account of the argument in this blog post and our setting out of a new research agenda applying Bourdieu in the analysis of inequality and the state, please see our new article Bourdieu and the Big Society: empowering the powerful in public service provision? in Policy and Politics journal. Please see the author’s institutional repository entries for open access versions of the paper after a year, or drop us an email for a copy.


Viewpoint 2: Dr Andy Inch, University of Sheffield

Some recent experiences have made me think again about that widely derided slogan ‘the big society’.

The first took place during an evening meeting of a community regeneration group. Two senior officers from the local authority came along to break the news that the council was pulling funding from the community centre where the group meets. This announcement did not come as a complete surprise but it is a serious blow for the residents of this deprived estate on the edge of Sheffield. The centre is the only community facility in an area that has been largely bypassed by previous rounds of public investment.

Whilst expressing sympathy with local residents, the officers explained that the authority simply had no choice in the face of what will eventually amount to a 50 percent reduction in centrally allocated grants. The cuts mean that the community centre cannot continue to be supported, if the residents want to retain it they are going to have to find a way to run it themselves.

I have some concerns about the ways in which such decisions are often made over the heads of those affected and I wonder whether the structures imposed by standard ‘cost-centre’ accountancy don’t sometimes close off the potential for more creative valuation and management of public assets. However, I don’t want to get too far into the rights and wrongs of this ultimatum here. The level of cuts facing many local authorities are clearly massive and do necessitate precisely these kind of unpleasant decisions.

What made me uneasy was the way the officers presented the news, the tone of: There. Is. No. Alternative. TINA. Thatcher’s favourite daughter still doing her bidding from beyond the grave.

The officers sought to distance themselves from any responsibility for the situation, it wasn’t their choice they told us but the withdrawal of the local state was now a foregone conclusion that had to be unconditionally accepted. In this new world it really is up to citizens to come together voluntarily. One of the officers went so far as to tell us that, although he hated the term, this was a ‘big society’ moment for these residents.

The ‘big society’ was, of course, a keyword of the Conservative General Election campaign of 2010 and the heady early days of the con-dem government. As articulated by its more committed proponents this was a reworking of significant traditions of conservative political thought, seeking to resuscitate the ‘little platoons’ of Burke’s civil society as a response to the twin excesses of the free market and the bloated central state. For David Cameron the idea helped lay blame for the state of ‘broken Britain’ at the dirigisme of New Labour; justifying the shrinking of the state as an unavoidable response to financial imprudence, whilst presenting unprecedented cuts in public spending as an opportunity to free up a spirit of cooperation and volunteering – where the state withdrew citizens would step forward to manage their own affairs.

Even within the Conservative party, however, the label was never really accepted and it quickly became a political liability. On the left it was widely derided as a thinly veiled justification for further rounds of neoliberal state restructuring.

As a result the term largely disappeared from use. Google trends data shows a peak of interest in February 2011 followed by a fairly steep decline. Although some academics have continued to try and make sense of the big society, like many of the big political concepts of recent years it now seems little more than an historical curiosity. (A point driven home to me when a well-respected academic journal knocked back a paper that a colleague and I had submitted on the basis that the big society was no longer of any interest to its readers!)

Since that evening, however, I have heard similar ‘big society’ sentiments repeated by other senior public sector officers and several groups of citizens who are now taking on the running of facilities. This leads me to wonder whether the big society is as dead as its disappearance from public discourse would suggest and if not, what this means for sustaining resistance to the imperatives of austerity.

Early in the con-dem government it seemed that forces of resistance were gaining momentum and that real political change might be possible. Over the last two years, however, the momentum of protest seems to have stalled. The country has stumbled on, the economy kept afloat by boatloads of capital seeking asylum in the London property market, any real political effects of crisis and austerity seemingly deferred. We seem to have entered what Gramsci might have called a morbid interregnum – the undead corpse of neoliberalism staggering on.

On one level the continued, zombie like presence of ‘big society choices’ is easy to explain. The effects of any policy take time to become apparent. The implications of cuts in local government funding are only slowly revealing their full extent. However, this truth jars with the ADHD symptoms that characterise our contemporary condition, the restless switching of our attention to the next political issue or celebrity scandal (a criticism that might equally be levied at the academy with the typically short-term imperatives of funding leading a restless search for the next big thing).

Of course, the big society choices being presented to many communities are significantly different from what the rhetoric promised. For many this is not a choice at all. Rather communities are being bullied into taking on massive responsibilities. It seems a fair bet that many will not be able to sustain the effort. Meanwhile, the very valid fears that were expressed when the idea was being debated and contested are now becoming a reality. Those communities that can will take on the burden. Those that can’t, won’t. Inequalities will be strikingly reinforced. Add in the combined impacts of welfare reforms and draconian workfare sanctions that actually prevent many people from volunteering in their communities and the picture looks even more worrying.

In this context, the absence of debate about the continued roll-out of the big society raises some significant questions. The defeat, and at this stage it looks like a serious ideological defeat, seems to be related to the difficulty of sustaining political engagement through the long attritional unfolding of this crisis. In this regard, we might speculate that part of the success of the big society lies precisely in the zombie form it has taken on. It’s hard to engage politically around a concept that has been quietly killed off, even as it’s language and logic reshape the world.

And what of the officers delivering the news? Their attempts to distance themselves from the term show that they do not necessarily identify with what is happening. But happening it is, and with seemingly little resistance on the part of local government. The distaste those officers described did not prevent them from carrying out the work they claimed to find so unpalatable. Here too we see ample evidence of ideological defeat. Being charitable we might see this as a pragmatic exercise in damage limitation, accepting a defeat and seeking to tactically minimize its worst effects (acknowledging too that some public sector workers may identify with principles of community control, albeit not like this). More worryingly, however, there seems little evidence of anyone playing a longer game. TINA seems to be firmly in control.


Editor’s Note

Readers might also be interested in related publications from the editorial collective on the Big Society & Localism themes: