Is victim culture to blame for post combat stress disorder?

There's a long and interesting article in today's Independent, highlighting the remarkable finding that US soldiers are much more likely than British ones to suffer post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) - by a massive 30% to 4%.  The article's American author, Ethan Watters, suggests that the difference is cultural.  His analysis turns out to be more of a critique of US ways in ignorance of British ones - but the core idea, that mental illness can be driven by society's attitudes is an interesting and disturbing one.  Disturbing because it suggests that the modern fashion for exploring victimhood is making suffering worse than it needs to be.

Mr Watters says that the original diagnosis of PTSD was developed by anti-war professionals in the Vietnam era, and motivated by the wish to show the harmfulness of violence and war.  Because people increasingly expected to suffer illness after experiencing trauma, like combat experience, they duly did.   PTSD was pretty much unknown before Vietnam (and it's not the same as shell-shock and other manifestations of mental illness resulting from combat experience noted in earlier wars).  Of course there is not much evidence of PTSD in earlier wars because nobody was looking for it.  Also, I might add, survival rates are much higher these days.  Mr Watters then goes on to develop the idea that illness is exacerbated by the emptiness of modern culture, which deprives victims of moral support.

This is all very well as a narrative, and I think there is something in it.  But I don't think this explains why so many fewer British veterans suffer PTSD.  Mr Watters suggests that the British are much more sceptical about PTSD , and have a stronger belief in natural resilience. That does not sound like the modern Britain that I know and love, where victim culture appears rampant and, I suspect, more politically accepted than in the US.  And besides, we are much less religious than Americans, so surely the desolation of modern culture should be much more prevalent? The difference between the two countries is much more likely to be around the way their respective armies work.  British veterans are more likely to suffer from alcohol abuse or depression, incidentally.

But the idea remains that a focus on victimhood and traumatization, which can verge on celebration sometimes, is very unhelpful.  We should celebrate resilience.  Most people have it within their own resources to recover from trauma, and many can be strengthened by it; we need to acknowledge this, rather than undermine the confidence of those do not, in fact, need outside support.

AV: why I am voting Yes to a beautiful British compromise

Referendum Day approaches and the polls are tightening.  The public at large has yet to show much interest, but the referendum on the Alternative Vote (AV) is an important event in our political history.  Yet nobody can be surprised that the quality of public debate is abysmal.  If the arguments put forward by the Yes campaign, desperate not to lose people in technical detail, look a little weak, those of the No campaign seem like a calculated assault on our intelligence.  The campaign is being fought on emotions: natural British conservatism pitted against the feeling that our current system is part of a stitch-up perpetrated by the political establishment on the people.  I hope this post lifts the level of debate a fraction.

Not that I want to deny the importance of emotions in making decisions like this.  I will start with mine.  My views about proportional representation (PR) have fluctuated a bit over time; but my views on AV, from the beginning political consciousness in the 1970s, have always been in favour.  First past the post (FPTP) is an outrage; a primitive system that belongs to the age of rotten boroughs and not a modern democracy.  AV is an elegant answer to its most egregious features, and the one that is most appropriate to the British culture.

We start with the system of single member constituencies.  This is embedded deeply into the British political culture, though I do not regard it as sacred.  This carries with it the idea that an MP represents her whole constituency, not just the party and voters that put her there.  This is indeed what most MPs claim to think.  But if the election is contested by more than two candidates with broad appeal then the process rapidly degenerates into farce and the winner can be elected on quite a small minority of votes.  You need a degree in game theory to make your you are voting for the right candidate.  This is so obviously wrong that in most elections for an executive office, where you choose one candidate from a diverse field, the system has been abandoned, if it was ever used - from small societies up to presidents of countries, and even Mayoral elections in the UK.  The job of an MP is a serious job, and surely exactly the same logic applies to them as to the London Mayor or the Leader of the Conservative Party.

And that should be enough.  But the consequential results of the system don't make it any better.  As this video using animals explains, the system soon resolves into a two party system.  Any candidate who wants to challenge the party machine and stand against the official candidate usually fails, and worse, lets in the candidate from the opposing party.  So a lot of the process of democratic choice is handled by two party machines which do not have a strong incentive to be democratic themselves, for example in the way they select candidates.  Of course, if you are a party machine politician you are inclined to think that this is a wonderful political system, but it is fundamentally undemocratic.  It is quite clear from the declining combined vote share of the Labour and Conservative parties that the British are losing confidence in the two party system.

So what is the solution?  PR is popular, but brings with it plenty of problems of its own which are not directly relevant to the debate.  If you support PR the risk of voting No is that a No result is likely to kill the question of electoral reform for generations.  The Americans have developed a system of primary elections, which have the effect of undermining the party machines and making them more democratic.  It has the major virtue of making all safe seats competitive.  The odd Tory proposes it for the UK.  A second alternative is to stage run-off elections in seats where there is no overall winner - the French system.  Both these systems require a second full-scale public election.  They both have the advantage of simplicity: electors make a single choice at each election - the most attractive aspect of FPTP.  But two elections mean doubling up the cost, and campaigning costs in the US system are astronomical, giving rich candidates a big advantage.  And they both seem un-British.  They require a more prolonged period political campaigning.  The British like the drama of a competitive General Election (such as last year), but quickly tire of the electoral process.  And anyway, neither system is being offered to us in the referendum.

Which leaves AV.  This is a built-in run-off system, requiring voters to think ahead about how they would vote if there was a run-off.  It loses the simplicity and immediacy of the single decision, but the whole process is decided in a single, easily comprehensible process in a day.  How quickly the British would take to it is less clear (we can guarantee that the political parties' campaigns will try to confuse the picture rather then help explain it), but they would get used to it eventually.  It has settled down well enough in Australia, a country that has a very similar attitude to politics to Britain, though its effects there are difficult to disentangle from those of compulsory voting.  Incidentally, the suggestion made by David Cameron that polls show that Australians would prefer to move back to FPTP does not stand up to close examination.  What many Australians in fact dislike is being forced to mark a preference against all candidates for their vote to be valid - and we are not proposing that in the UK.  In Australia AV has not undermined the two party system, as it happens, but it has surely made the two main parties more sensitive to the risks of breakaway groups and so more democratic themselves.  Australia's parliamentarians are a quirky, spiky lot - the sort of people to hold an executive to account, even if it is often not a  pretty sight.  All in all AV is a beautiful British compromise and I will be voting for it.

I will look at other arguments in the AV debate in later posts.  This one is long enough!

The census and religion

Our census questionnaire hit the doormat yesterday.  As usual the census is stirring up a bit of controversy.  Simon Beard is worried about the data being managed by Lockheed Martin, a defence contractor.  I'm not overly bothered by this, but I do find myslelf getting exercised about how to answer question 20, "What is your religion?"

The British Humanist Association has been urging people to tick the box for "No religion" if they are not practising members of a faith, rather than tick "Christian" if they are merely baptised, or write in "Jedi Knight" as a general wind-up.  As I will explain, I agree.  But the main heat arises from the BHA's advertising campaign; following  a ruling from part of the Advertising Standards Agency that some people might take offence at the ads, and they have been banned from railway stations as a result (although some buses have carried them).  This has generated lots of media coverage, which may have been the original idea, but I still find the whole episode very annoying.  The three ads are posted below.

But first, how to answer the question?  I am an agnostic, as I have already explained on this blog.  I am a confirmed member of the Church of England, but I don't belong to a church.  I am not an atheist.  But I refuse to call myself a Christian either.  When I was a practising, I did not approve of people who did not commit to the faith, but still called themselves Christians.  I am happy with the label of "no religion" however, and so it won't be difficult for me to answer the question.  Unlike the NHS job application form, which asks applicants to choose between various faiths and "atheist"; I have to tick "won't say", even though I am quite public about my religious status.

So far, so good.  But what does annoy me is that so much of officialdom treats people like me as a lower form of life.  They protect Christians and others from even quite mild offence, but we don't count.  This is actually quite offensive.  Fine.  There is no liberal principle that people should be protected from being offended, and accordingly I put up with it: the BBC not allowing humanist speakers on Thought for the Day; the Pope implying that I don't have any moral values because I don't believe in God; women wearing the niqab because I can't be trusted to look at their face.  But it  annoys me that we have to mollycoddle people of faith against being similarly offended.

Suddenly ticking the "No religion" box feels like an important assertion of my identity, rather than a simple statement of fact.

Nowquestion 15, "How would you describe your national identity?" is something else.  I think I'm going to write in "European" alongside British and English.

Liberals shouldn’t be scared of Murdoch

Here is a short piece of mine published on Lib Dem Voice.  In it I argue that Murdoch is part of scrap amongst right-wing newspapers which those of a liberal persuasion can observe without taking sides.  It attracted a few comments, but of pretty poor quality.  Mainly it was from people who so loath the Murdoch empire that they automatically oppose anything thing he does.  Somebody launched a rant against the BBC licence fee.

I have a wider concern.  By focusing so much on Mr Murdoch liberals are in danger of losing a bigger and more important argument; they are attacking the messenger rather than the message.  It's a sort of displacement activity for people uncomfortable with the right-wing press.

Hello world!

This blog has been long in gestation, so here's hoping that lives even longer in execution.

It is a platform to express my thoughts on the issues of the day.  My interests are pretty broad, but the idea is to concentrate on politics, with a special interest in the economy and public services.  I'm no expert (a mere BSc in Economics doesn't get you beyond the lowlife in the economics profession); still less am I an insider, drifting around the outer fringes of the Westminster village.  I hold no public political office.  But I'm a free agent and I will not feel bound to any party line, though I am no political neutral.  And I've been around quite a long time, and I've done some interesting things (well, I think so) - I think I have some interesting insights to offer.

Another thing I am not, is a journalist.  There's no particular virtue in being quick off the mark at the expense of insight.  The best insights take time to emerge.

What do I mean by "thinking liberal"?  I'm a political liberal; I want people to be free to take the course they choose and say what they like, so long as they don't harm others.  I believe that society should organise itself so that as many as possible have the practical freedoms that come with their basic physical and emotional needs being met, and a decent education.  Thinking is a big part of what I'm trying to do.  Emotional reactions and partisan advocacy have their place, but not here.  I want to promote insights and understanding.  I want to find a better way.

And there's something else.  I want to be constructive.  So much of what passes for comment is negative, telling us what's wrong with an idea, without trying to put up an alternative.  Of course alternative ideas will usually have flaws - but the only way to find the best ideas is to keep trying.  Which means being brave enough to be wrong.