Judith Williamson: Every little thing counts
Some people are more local than others - and it boils down to class, writes Judith WIlliamson.
Some people are more local than others - and it boils down to class.
Not long ago I spent a day, along with hundreds of other council tenants and leaseholders, crowded into a school hall for what we believed was a crucial debate about our futures. The leader of the council, the director of housing, and representatives of our tenants' associations spoke from the platform, but most of the day was an open discussion about the financing and management of our homes. The key item was the private finance initiative: there was convincing evidence against using it to fund housing maintenance, and tenant after tenant opposed the scheme. Ultimately, the meeting voted overwhelmingly for a residents' ballot on the issue.
It seemed like a victory for local democracy. Anyone who looked in would have felt they were witnessing grassroots politics in action, councillors and local people battling over policy together. But listening to the director of housing I realised he was outlining a situation over which the council had practically no control. They were legally required to meet a repairs target for 2010 - set by central government. Money for the repairs was conditional on choosing a devolved management scheme - determined by central government. And while full privatisation requires a tenant vote, PFI does not and is richly rewarded with government funds. I suddenly saw that in fighting the council we had the wrong target: it was the government that had set this up.
It's a subtle process, because councils are not actually told what to do: merely what they must achieve, by when and that the money to do it depends on certain choices. They, and we, cannot choose what these choices are. Yet as responsibility without power is devolved to local level, it can be made to look from the outside as if greater freedoms are being offered people. Part of that process is the attempt to enlist tenants in the cause of privatisation: as if we were being helped to liberate ourselves from overbearing councils, while in fact, our expressed wish, to keep local authority repairs management, was not made feasible. In the past, tenants' reps sat on the council's housing committee - and voted. Now, the government has decreed we must be "consulted" at every turn, but we cannot affect policy, because the council itself can barely do so.
National politicians bemoan political apathy: they don't see that keeping councils on a tight leash shackles not only them but us, and, infuriatingly, it is done in "our" name. Even more maddening is the self-fulfilling process whereby central government marginalises councils - so they become seen as "marginal". Even some of the government's sharpest critics end up colluding with the assumption that local authorities are increasingly irrelevant.
They are not. First, for those of us who are their tenants, their social service clients, for all of us who read in their libraries and play in their playgrounds they are deeply entwined with our daily lives. Everyone claims to care about local democracy - but many secretly think it is petty and dull. Some people, in effect, are more "local" than others, and this is, fundamentally, a class issue. If you live in private housing, have a car, send your children to private schools (or have none) the council may seem to do little except empty your bins. If you are, say, a council tenant, elderly, with no car, your life is lived very locally indeed and issues like the state of the paving slabs (unevenness may trip you as you walk to the shops) are of real concern.
Which leads to the second reason local government matters: it is one of the few political arenas in which people can see the effects of their actions, however small. It is possible to get that estate-to-shops pavement reset. It is possible to get a playground repaired, or street lighting improved: people can affect their environment. Local politics is where policy - whether national or local - meets the material world. Ultimately, life is lived locally, in real places: it is worth turning out to vote simply to prove they still count.
Not long ago I spent a day, along with hundreds of other council tenants and leaseholders, crowded into a school hall for what we believed was a crucial debate about our futures. The leader of the council, the director of housing, and representatives of our tenants' associations spoke from the platform, but most of the day was an open discussion about the financing and management of our homes. The key item was the private finance initiative: there was convincing evidence against using it to fund housing maintenance, and tenant after tenant opposed the scheme. Ultimately, the meeting voted overwhelmingly for a residents' ballot on the issue.
It seemed like a victory for local democracy. Anyone who looked in would have felt they were witnessing grassroots politics in action, councillors and local people battling over policy together. But listening to the director of housing I realised he was outlining a situation over which the council had practically no control. They were legally required to meet a repairs target for 2010 - set by central government. Money for the repairs was conditional on choosing a devolved management scheme - determined by central government. And while full privatisation requires a tenant vote, PFI does not and is richly rewarded with government funds. I suddenly saw that in fighting the council we had the wrong target: it was the government that had set this up.
It's a subtle process, because councils are not actually told what to do: merely what they must achieve, by when and that the money to do it depends on certain choices. They, and we, cannot choose what these choices are. Yet as responsibility without power is devolved to local level, it can be made to look from the outside as if greater freedoms are being offered people. Part of that process is the attempt to enlist tenants in the cause of privatisation: as if we were being helped to liberate ourselves from overbearing councils, while in fact, our expressed wish, to keep local authority repairs management, was not made feasible. In the past, tenants' reps sat on the council's housing committee - and voted. Now, the government has decreed we must be "consulted" at every turn, but we cannot affect policy, because the council itself can barely do so.
National politicians bemoan political apathy: they don't see that keeping councils on a tight leash shackles not only them but us, and, infuriatingly, it is done in "our" name. Even more maddening is the self-fulfilling process whereby central government marginalises councils - so they become seen as "marginal". Even some of the government's sharpest critics end up colluding with the assumption that local authorities are increasingly irrelevant.
They are not. First, for those of us who are their tenants, their social service clients, for all of us who read in their libraries and play in their playgrounds they are deeply entwined with our daily lives. Everyone claims to care about local democracy - but many secretly think it is petty and dull. Some people, in effect, are more "local" than others, and this is, fundamentally, a class issue. If you live in private housing, have a car, send your children to private schools (or have none) the council may seem to do little except empty your bins. If you are, say, a council tenant, elderly, with no car, your life is lived very locally indeed and issues like the state of the paving slabs (unevenness may trip you as you walk to the shops) are of real concern.
Which leads to the second reason local government matters: it is one of the few political arenas in which people can see the effects of their actions, however small. It is possible to get that estate-to-shops pavement reset. It is possible to get a playground repaired, or street lighting improved: people can affect their environment. Local politics is where policy - whether national or local - meets the material world. Ultimately, life is lived locally, in real places: it is worth turning out to vote simply to prove they still count.
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