This book was recommended to me by a friend, and not because he thought it’d change my mind hugely. In fact, the opposite – I think he thought I’d largely agree with it. And for what it’s worth, some of the conclusions here are undeniable (e.g., that the turn to New Labour constituted, as the name suggested, a break with traditional Labour practices, and it did so for the worse). But those arguments don’t make up the heart of the book. Most of it is, I think insufficiently evidenced, logically incoherent, and sometimes patently disingenuous. I recognise that these are bold claims, so will lay out the evidence for them below. What I’d really like to do is a point-by-point refutation, but that isn’t something I have the time for – and, more importantly, it wouldn’t make for an interesting read. But I will go into some specifics because I think only in the specifics is the debate actually worth having. I will also make some remarks about the scholarship of the book (i.e. the research conducted and the book’s academic integrity), but there is plenty to go on even otherwise.
Let me offer a quick summary of the book: Paul Embery is a Blue Labour (economically left-wing and socially conservative) advocate, and he takes similar attitudes to be representative, at least, in large part, of the working class in Britain. The working class, is, according to him, mostly the lower income, non-graduate, post-industrial class (and he notes the break with the economically defined Marxist notion of the working class: anyone who has nothing to sell but their labour-power). He thinks the modern Left (a term I’ll come back to) has turned its back on the working class, going so far as to use the word ‘betrayed’, and for the following reasons: the ‘modern Left’ has embraced internationalism (or market globalisation – Embery only makes the distinction very late in the book), derides any discussion of immigration as racist, ostracises those who adhere to ‘traditional values’ such as ‘family’, ‘work’, and the ‘social bonds’ that are forged in ‘national community’. He lays some of the blame at 1960’s counterculture, which advocated free love, saw traditional ‘personal morality’ and religion as oppressive, and was largely critical of notions of borders and immigration control. He then advocates a return to national values of the nation-state, restrictions on immigration, and a defence of ‘freedom of expression’, while the modern Left is currently embroiled in ‘groupthink’. The reader will note my excessive scare-quoting. That’s because Embery doesn’t offer anything by way of definition of any of these terms. But I’ll come back to this, as I said.
The first question I want to raise is “who is this book directed towards?” Embery, in the rare occasions he provides quotes, often derides New Labour neoliberals (and rightly so). But besides that, a lot of the anger seems to be directed towards ‘Twitter’. I don’t know what Embery means by ‘the modern Left’, but it seems to be the disjunction of people who respond to him on Twitter and the neoliberal ascendency. Why these people are singled out and not, say, the Labour Left (i.e. Corbynites) is fairly clear. He doesn’t really have a bone to pick with the latter, and it wouldn’t make for good writing. But the other two groups – i.e. opinionated teenagers on Twitter, and the Blairite ‘movement’ that was rejected almost wholesale by two party leadership elections (the second time with more vigour than the first) – are written as if they’re representative of the entire Left. Now, none of this is actually disclosed. It is instead left to the reader to work out what Embery actually means by the Left. I suspect, as with a good deal of the book, it’s rather easy to fill in the gaps with this sort of thing if you already agree with the conclusions. Actually reflecting on the use of the words is a lot more telling. A lot of Embery’s arguments trade on ambiguities like this (a typical feature of post-modern political soapboxing that is more interested in provocative titles that sell well than it is in genuine sober analysis).
Now, to return to the discussion of values. I’ll pick one example, but the point generalises. Embery writes at length about how the Left should ‘return’ to wanting families to stay together and oppose the trend in which ‘families fragment’ – it should embrace an ‘explicitly pro-family stance’, and stop identifying ‘family values’ with right-wing ones. All I can say to this is ‘duh.’ What Embery does is use vague terms like ‘family values’ that have no clearly defined content (not that he’s looking to provide a definition), so you’d be a fool to disagree. Obviously, I don’t want families to fragment – that sounds awful. What follows is then what appears to be an argument but is really a collection of weasel words, misleading you into believing something concrete is being said – sound and fury signifying nothing, et cetera. As I said, soapboxing. So what remains is a picture of the Left who are committed to things unthinkable like the destruction of families. What evidence is provided that anyone actually believes these things? None. They’re taken to be common sense, as if that should pass in a book that purports to provide a respectable view of the political situation.
Some brief remarks about the scholarship. Embery seems to have some kind of chronic aversion to referencing. Sometimes he’ll even say things like ‘the evidence is all around us.’ Cite it then, if it’s so easy. Sometimes the ‘evidence’ is backed up by citation to editorials. Sometimes, sentences will be included in quotation marks but aren’t followed by a citation, where polemically convenient. This violates standards one is familiar with from virtually childhood. All of this contributes to the general posturing attitudes of the book – some kind of role-play of actual rational analysis is apparent, without actually doing much of the work required. The majority of the evidence (where Embery decides it’s important to include) is anecdotal at best. ‘I know this, because they told me so.’
This is all to say nothing about facts that are neglected where they don’t fit in with Embery’s polemical point. Take for instance, religion. Embery seems to take it that the working class are religious. In fact, Britain is a majority non-religious country as of 2019, as documented in British Social Attitudes surveys. His discussion of immigration is worse – it isn’t that he provides no citations, I think it approaches dishonesty. For what it’s worth, I don’t think anyone asking questions about immigration is a racist. But I do think it’s flatly disingenuous to fail to mention crucial facts in certain contexts as the following. Embery argues that immigration is problematic as it puts an additional strain on public services such as the NHS. He mentions the left-wing argument that this is due to rampant underfunding, not due to immigration, but dismisses it as being only part of the whole picture (no argument provided for that). What he fails to mention is that a quarter of NHS workers aren’t even UK nationals (this will then be a proper subset of non-UK ethnicity, i.e. even more than that are immigrants in general). Likewise with his discussion of Japan – he mentions that Japan has a relatively coherent national attitude, and we should strive to be more like them. ‘The Japanese’, he writes, ‘do not, it would appear, wish to see their country turned into a place that no longer resembles Japan. It is hard to sustain an argument that it is any the worse for that.’
Turning instead to the facts, we find that Japanese immigration laws are actually quite lax. A sizeable majority of Japanese citizens actually support importing labour. The question to ask is why people don’t migrate to Japan as much, and the answers there aren’t too difficult. Migration to Japan is actually not popular within people considering migrating – it is not that it is disallowed by the Japanese, as Embery asserts. What’s even more interesting is that this is all very well documented – indeed, there’s Wikipedia pages about it. Embery’s entire discussion is so divorced from any research that a Google search dismantles it (and indeed, the discussion contains not one citation). Facts are routinely ignored in service of Embery’s moralising conclusions.
Another interesting case is Embery’s discussion of the role of police in ‘freedom of expression’ cases. He thinks that the role of the police has expanded beyond reasonable standards (I suspect, the conclusion taken verbatim is actually correct). His reasoning for this conclusion is, at times, troubling. He goes on about the ‘totalitarian’ attitudes of ‘the Left’ (historically, famous supporters of the police force…) with respect to same-sex marriage, gender pronouns, and sexual harassment. He says what is now condemned as falling under harassment would once upon a time would have been looked at as ‘mild flirting’. I don’t know how to respond to this, other than by saying that calling out sexual harassment is hardly some object of freedom of expression. One would do well to bear in mind that freedom of expression holds for opinions in particular, and not for any language whatsoever. ‘Flirting’ (or harassment) is not an expression of an opinion. Where he does discuss opinion, it’s to do in particular with homo-/transphobia, where he complains that anyone who disagrees is branded a homophobe or a transphobe. Well, what his genuine complaint there is, I don’t know. Is it that someone called him a homophobe? Surely that falls under their freedom of expression by the same token. It’s hardly like someone has been arrested for voicing the opinion that gay people should not marry.
His mention of Sam Smith is equally embarrassing – he writes “Though still relatively tiny, the number of people declaring themselves ‘non-binary’ […] has increased in recent years […] One such was the award-winning singer and songwriter Sam Smith, who came out as non-binary in 2019. Needless to say the entire media and cultural establishment fell in line and, in accordance with Smith’s wishes, began using neutral pronouns when referring to him [sic]”. What his point was (other than to deliberately provoke, or come off contrarian and edgy) evades me. And worse yet, it’s patently false: the entire media did not fall in line. Take for example, Joanna Williams writing for The Times. The article, titled “Declaring your pronouns is pure narcissism”, is filled with these sorts of jabs: “Kae [Tempest – a poet and musician] follows in the footsteps of the Grammy award-winning singer and songwriter Sam Smith, once “he”, now “they/them […] I’m all for denying biology. I pretend I’m not getting older and can still drink too much without suffering the next day. I pretend I can fit into clothes I bought 20 years ago. But I don’t insist other people confirm my delusions. Demanding to be called they/them rather than he/she is to insist that the rest of the world share in your fantasy.” Embery, of course, doesn’t care about the fact that this represents a good deal of the media establishment. He wants to look like the underdog, and so (like before, lacking any citations), just doesn’t mention any of this.
Embery’s argumentation is equally lacking. Take, by way of example, his discussion of 1960’s counterculture. With its embrace of sex, drugs, and John Lennon, he thinks a good deal of today’s teenage pregnancy, drug abuse, so on, can be attributed to this. If such a causal connection exists, no work is done to establish it, and thereby inferring causation from correlation (or really, not even correlation – just precedence in time). Again, mistakes one is warned about in middle school are repeated. He does mention alternative explanations (say, the destruction of the working class by rampant de-industrialisation, but dismisses them out of hand as inadequate – no argument needed). Arguments in the book are often like this. Embery will make some bold claim, mention some contrary explanation – claim it doesn’t see the whole picture (sans reasoning) and carry on as if it’s irrelevant. To take an example from the immigration chapter, he, while regaling us about the flaws of immigration, says it would be ‘absurd’ to suggest immigration has no benefits (not that he mentions any of the benefits, of course), and carries on. Mentioning alternative explanations and doing nothing with them doesn’t make your argument any more nuanced than not mentioning them at all. At least in the second case you can claim ignorance.
Embery also makes wildly unsubstantiated claims about the intentions of people talking about, say, critical theory. Now, I’m actually sort of in the field of philosophy, and I don’t take critical theory seriously. But I don’t think for a moment that anyone talking about it is just trying to signal the fact that they’re enlightened because they went to university – and if they are, I expect some evidence. Otherwise, you’re just assuming bad faith on the part of people who disagree with you. But what I find more troubling about this is the deep patronisation implicit in it. If talking about philosophical issues must mean you went to university, you’re implying that you can’t talk about these things if you didn’t. Whereas in truth, you can walk into any Waterstones and pick up a copy of Foucault and interpret it for yourself. Compare this attitude to the one you find in Jonathan Rose’s “The Intellectual Life of the British Working Classes”, a well-researched history of the reading habits of working people in the UK. You find that many working people were regularly involved in thinking about political and philosophical issues. It isn’t just ivory tower liberals who think about these things, and Embery, in all his condescension, seems to think it is.
As you can tell, I’m not impressed. Now, I should note, I doubt all of the conclusions of the book are false. What arguments for those conclusions exist aren’t to be found here though. I expect a lot of the people who are rating this book so highly already agree with it and so don’t realise how much work exactly they’re doing interpreting Embery’s undefined terms and filling in all the gaps in his reasoning. Embery seems to think that anyone who disagrees with him must be divorced from the attitudes of the British working class. Maybe I am, I don’t know. It’s obvious though, that this kind of argument serves a moralistic conclusion more than it serves a factual one. Indeed, Embery’s interest in the facts seems to wax and wane. Unfortunately, I can’t offer any deep moral insight, as Embery seems to think he can, but if you happen to think the facts are relevant, I think one ought to look elsewhere.