It seems that the Gods / Forces of Coincidence want me to blog, as so many things have been happening lately that have brought me to the same collection of thoughts.
I think the first and most major event was the World Cup. There was something of a minor furore over whether it was Good and/or Right for the flag of England to be flown outside of Number 10, Downing Street in support of the English football team. To those who care about these things, it was somewhat offensive to the other members of the United Kingdom that the largely-resented “dominant” partner in the union was to get its flag flown outside the headquarters of that union.
The defence was that, if the Welsh, Scottish, or Northern Irish teams had qualified for the competition then their flags would have been flown also. This is almost certainly true, I would say; it would be insensitive and politically suicidal to operate any other way. Nevertheless, the minor uproar was inevitable. And that is what interested me: why do people get so worked up about these things?
The second was the horrific oil spill in the gulf, and the strange conversation that followed the coverage in the USA. There was talk that BP should be referred to by its acronym and not as “British Petroleum” as this ran the risk of generating ill will toward Britain as a whole. The strangest part, though, was a debate I heard on BBC Radio 2, which asked whether we as the British Public should be criticising the company or defending it. This was not on the basis of its actions, however – the facts of the actual case seem to have been counted as largely irrelevant. No, rather the debate hinged on the fact that it was an (at least nominally) British company. Apparently a lot of British pensioners have money invested in the stocks, for instance.
I was surprised, I must admit – in my rather naive way – that this was really so open for debate to people. If a corporation acts in an irresponsible way, or fails to act in a responsible way, then they should be criticised. They should not be deemed worthy of defence purely by virtue of their nationality or the self-interest of stock investments. Is it really so mad to suggest that this approach is totally backwards?
Finally, there came the always-inspiring genius of Bill Hicks. I went to a showing of American: The Bill Hicks Story, a documentary about the great man’s tragically short life, and there was a short clip about the burning of the flag and how extremely people tend to react to that particular form of expression, particularly in the U.S.. It certainly seems that the more vocal incarnations of patriotism that we experience over on this side of the Atlantic are far more widespread on the other. Perhaps this is a false impression, but in a country where children are expected to recite an oath of fidelity to that country, patriotism is certainly taken very seriously indeed.
The question that kept occurring to me through all of this is one that first struck me after a throwaway comment on the radio. It may have been a politician commenting on the Downing Street Flag Fiasco, I can’t remember. But the comment was a qualification to the main portion of their argument, and was along the lines of “I’m proud to be British”. This was then joined by other phrases from the same conversation about what nationality people considered themselves: “I’m Scottish first and British second”, for instance, or “I’m English first and foremost”.
I just thought, am I alone in not strongly identifying with the state I was born into? Whether England or the United Kingdom? Am I the only one who feels no compulsion to qualify any sensible, well-reasoned comment with “Of course I’m proud to be British”? I do hope not.
Pride is something that should relate to an achievement, generally speaking. I am proud of some of my writing; I am proud of gaining my degrees at university. I am not proud of an accident of birth. I am happy, to some degree, to be British. Certainly it has afforded me a great deal of advantages simply not available to those in less affluent countries. I am happy that I live in a country that, generally speaking, allows a significant amount of freedom of expression. But I am not proud to be British. I don’t feel that the adjective applies.
I don’t see patriotism as a useful force in the world. What it does in terms of promoting solidarity within a country and a sense of national identity is positively counter-productive in an increasingly global society. The oil spill is the perfect example: almost as much coverage has been given to the international relations aspect as has been given to the fact that it is a disaster on an incredible scale. Why do people care that it’s a nominally British company, when the spill is affecting several states with no regard for national boundaries? I am increasingly convinced that we need to regard ourselves as citizens of the Earth first, with this taking precedence over any national identity we might feel.
I leave you with the incisive wit of The Great Hicks…
I realise this is old news to most people by this point, but I’ve been stupidly busy over the last month or more and just haven’t had the time, or indeed inclination, to blog. Even my creative writing, which takes precedence, has suffered lately. But enough of that. What is this old news to which I refer?
The UK now has an officially recognised and established Pirate Party. No, this isn’t some attempt to nationalise children’s birthday entertainments (at least I don’t think it is); it is a serious political organisation with a serious message.
That message, according to their website, is threefold: reform copyright and patent law; end excessive surveillance; ensure freedom of speech. Definitely policies I can get behind. But despite the multi-pronged nature of their “manifesto”, I have a hard time not categorising them as a single-issue party. Perhaps they would not dispute this.
The problem here is that single-issue parties do not get elected, and nor should they. For instance, at the time of writing this, their official manifesto contains the amusing line “Pirate Party UK has no opinion on whether Britain should or should not be a member of the European Union.” Is it sensible for a political party, I.E., a group presumably campaigning for votes, to have no opinion on this central topic in British politics? Even if you do not accept this, and think that “no opinion” is a perfectly acceptable position to take on Europe, then skip down to the economic policy. Yep, that’s right, they don’t have one.
As with every single-issue party, it seems that the function they intend (or are at any rate “destined”) to perform is that of a pressure group. Their true effect will not be measured in votes, but in public awareness of the issues; though it is true that any votes they do receive may well push the major parties into more serious consideration of those issues.
But why go to the trouble of creating a political party, when a pressure group is subject to far less red tape and hoop-jumping? If it is an effort to be taken more seriously, then they missed the lesson of the Snowdrop Campaign in 1997 – possibly the most effective UK grassroots pressure group in recent history. Indeed, their petitions resulted in new legislation being pushed through almost immediately by a new government terrified of the media’s disapproval after the horrific Dunblane Massacre. The resulting legislation, however, was rushed; as a result it was near-unenforceable and had to be reworded.
The media has evolved significantly since then, of course. 12 years ago the internet was just barely beginning to function as a media outlet, and the Snowdrop Campaign was one of the first to utilise its potential as a mass-communication tool. The Pirate Party is a group which, with technology as its primary background, is in a position to take full advantage of the new media, Web 2.0, or whatever other buzzword you’d like to use for it.
Should they be an established political party? Well, it’s probably not necessary. But I do wish them the best of luck in getting their message heard.
You may have heard, early last month, that Ireland has passed a new law regarding blasphemy. There also seems to be some confusion on the matter – is this a new law, making blasphemy illegal where it was previously not? Or is it perhaps a reform of an older law, which actually reduces the sanction on this offense from prison time to a fine? Either way, atheists and secularists of all stripes are up in arms, and a lot of them seem to be ignorant of the facts. When freethinkers start leaping to the defensive just from the very mention of words such as “blasphemy”, without examining the details, how can we claim the moral high ground? How are we better than fundamentalists? If we are to debate credibly, we need to be able to marshal the facts. This, in my mind, is one of the most important distinguishing aspects of the sceptical and secularist movements.
So, what are the facts in this case?
The Irish Constitution requires a law making blasphemy an offense. Such a law was not passed until 1961, but did not satisfactorily define blasphemy – this led to the 1999 Supreme Court ruling that the current law was unenforceable. Instead of amending the constitution to remove the necessity of the law, however (which would require a national referendum), it was decided that it would be easier to enact a law that was enforceable. This passed in early July.
So, in effect, blasphemy is now illegal in Ireland, and while this has apparently always been the case, it is now a cogent and enforeceable law with a specified definition and penalty (and a hefty penalty at that – up to €25,000). It will however likely not be operable until late October, due to necessary modifications in the rules of court to accommodate it. There is a significant campaign to repeal the new law, and indeed it seems that there are good reasons to consider it to be in conflict with the constitution – not to mention the European Convention on Human Rights.
All this information is available at the excellent website Blasphemy.ie, and what is presented here is intended as a summary, attempting to clarify a situation which seems to be widely misunderstood.
So what’s the bottom line here?
Blasphemy is now functionally illegal in Ireland. This is a result of recent legislation which did not introduce it as an offense but rather clarified the law to a point at which it was enforceable. This was ostensibly done to avoid the costs of a referendum – which, as mentioned, would be necessary were Ireland to alter the constitution and remove the need for a blasphemy law. But, as Padraig Reidy points out, a referendum is planned for October on the issue of the Lisbon Treaty (a generally unrelated matter) – so why not save a few Euros and combine the two? And why set the penalty for blasphemy so high? Surely if it were a token law for the sake of convention, it would warrant only a token penalty. Does this perhaps hint at an ulterior motive for enacting the new legislation?
I am clearly not in a position to comment on that possibility. Anybody who is would be gratefully welcomed if they cared to enlighten me. Suffice it to say that I have been a little disappointed by the sparse and superficial coverage this story has received – as usual, the reality is a bit more complicated.
To stay updated with this case, head to blasphemy.ie.
It’s no surprise to those who read this blog that I’m kind of in favour of free speech – you know, just a bit. It’s one of the many reasons I’ve taken an interest in the ongoing legal battle between Simon Singh and the British Chiropractic Association. It’s also why I’m here to promote the Sense About Science campaign to keep libel laws out of science. I’ve added the badge to the side bar and I recommend you click on it. If you’re just too damn lazy to scroll down (and who could blame you?) here it is:
And with that, I leave you again. I apologise for my long silences of late, but we still have no internet access in the flat and with my new job I have a lot less free time than I used to when I was unemployed. Hopefully the former situation will resolve soon, and I’ll be back with you, boring your eyes out as usual.
All the best, dear hypothetical reader. Until next time.