Don’t be fooled, political scientists did see Brexit coming

 

By Matt Wood, University of Sheffield. This article was originally posted on the Political Studies Association website.


 

This week the artist Grayson Perry took a swipe at political science in the annual PSA Awards, claiming the profession completely failed to foresee Britain’s vote to leave the European Union. The notion that Brexit was a defeat for political science seems to have become a commonly accepted lesson from the vote on June 23rd this year. For some, this was because the quantitative polling methods that widely predicted a narrow win for Remain were wide of the mark. For others, it was because political science has avoided its professional and ethical duties in defending informed public debate.

In this blog I’m going to challenge this narrative. I’m going to offer some reasons why political scientists in fact did see Brexit coming, in the form of a deep and intractable crisis of legitimacy for the EU. The clickbait-style title of the blog is intended to be provocative. Evidently, most political scientists did not predict the specific outcome of the referendum vote. However, we have long diagnosed democratic weaknesses in the EU’s fuzzy and incoherent governance structures, noted how weak European identity is, and even argued for ‘taking back control’ ourselves. I think we need to reflect on our professional and emotive commitments as a result.

The Democratic Deficit

For decades political scientists have been warning that the European Union has faced a fundamental crisis of democratic legitimacy – what was termed the ‘democratic deficit’. In a widely cited article published ten years ago, Professors Simon Hix and Andreas Follesdal noted with some exhaustion that “The fate of the Constitutional Treaty for Europe after the French and Dutch referendums will no doubt prompt further volumes of academic books and articles on the ‘democratic deficit’ in the European Union (EU). The topic already receives huge attention”. They were right; the ‘democratic deficit’ debate goes back to some of the foundational debates about the EU in the academic ‘literature’. Big, influential scholars, for example Fritz Scharpf, Giandomenico Majone and Vivien Schmidt, have weighed in with ideas of how to alleviate the problem. Majone, one of the doyens of EU scholarship, has even very visibly changed his view on the EU, arguing in a recent book the Union now faces an existential crisis related to the Eurozone.

If anything, political science has moved beyond simplistic arguments that people would support the EU just because it is good for economic growth. In an animation released earlier in the year by the Sir Bernard Crick Centre, dedicated to translating academic research into practice, we highlighted the dangers posed by the democratic deficit to the European project. The media debate, though, was dominated by economists, global figureheads and business leaders who still thought economic arguments would be enough. Our video clearly wasn’t as well watched as we would have hoped! But even it had been, would anyone have noticed?

European identity

The second glaring issue political science got right before the referendum was the clear and consistent finding that British people (and Europeans more generally) simply do not feel European. Recent Eurobarometer findings show just how few citizens of Europe, and Britain especially, actually feel uniquely European, as well as their focus on key challenges like immigration. More broadly political scientists have criticized the notion of European identity, recently arguing for example: “European identity remains a ‘dry, institutional, symbolic conception’ … which has failed to reach the ‘hearts and the guts of the peoples of Europe’”. We’ve also uncovered how those who are most committed to the European project are liberally minded Erasmus students or business people who tend to travel regularly between European countries.

This does not strike me as putting our heads in the sand, or failing to see the ‘Brexistential crisis’ coming. It’s entirely consistent with what most commentators have been saying post-referendum. Perhaps if we’d written more blogs about this identity crisis, the public would have sat up and taken notice? Perhaps if we acted more like think tanks, political talking heads or Sun columnists, we would get more of a hearing?

There may be something to this, but the question though is if political scientists don’t write enough for public audiences, would anyone actually listen to us if we started writing more? Would they be any more likely to listen to us on the benefits of EU membership than, say, the Bank of England, Ryanair or the International Monetary Fund?

Taking back control

The last, perhaps more controversial point, is many prominent political scientists have been arguing in favour of themes used by the Leave campaign for quite some time now. While focused mainly around globalisation, a number of political scientists and political economists have been saying that communities, activists and governments should be challenging globalisation and transnational institutions. They’ve argued these institutions are disastrous, undemocratic and obscure. Politics, they argued, should be about having ‘control’; having collective agency, engaging in deliberation and promoting democratic choice. This is certainly what we think in the Anti-politics specialist group of the PSA. Some of us have been saying talk of ‘globalisation’ disincentivises public engagement and participation. Others have been making the broader argument that we shouldn’t accept the ‘neoliberal’ settlement as inevitable.

All these themes were used to devastating effect by the Leave campaign. They created political engagement in some areas of the country not seen since Tony Blair’s 1997 electoral victory. Put in a mischievous way, if political scientists had hoped for stimulating mass political engagement and challenging ‘anti-politics’, then they have, in many ways succeeded. They just haven’t succeeded in the way they would have hoped.

Critical Friends

Should we conclude Brexit has been a resounding success? Are we all eminently happy with a possible new world order of closed borders and economic uncertainty? Many political scientists would not wish to settle for that. What it does suggest, I think, is we need to look at our own emotive attachments, and whether we do our jobs properly as ‘critical friends’ of the institutions we study. If anything has been surprising, it has been how dismayed many of us claim to be about Brexit, given that political science has been highlighting the limitations of the EU, discontent with globalisation and so on for decades. Could it be, then, we need to reflect on our attachments and orientations as a discipline, rather than the specific ‘research findings’ and how they are ‘communicated’?

Perhaps our feelings of existential crisis have more to do with the funding and culture of universities themselves, than whether our actual research findings are ‘valid’? As the impact agenda has taken hold, we have grown closer to government, European bodies, think tanks, and other ‘elite’ organisations. While we should help out those organisations and fulfil our commitments as advisors and communicators, we should never forget academics need to have the role of ‘critical friends’ in helping these institutions out. That’s what distinguishes our profession. The idea is we take what the best evidence and theory tells us, not being afraid to point out the flaws in the system, as well as being honest about the limitations of our findings.

We are witnessing the crisis of a transnational system that, for all its faults, many political scientists feel an emotive connection to, often due to feelings of solidarity and liberal values of openness and tolerance. At the same time we understand the EU’s inherent weaknesses, the desire of local communities, beset by divisions and inequalities, to ‘take back control’. We understand how deeply undemocratic the project has been, and feel we must be critical.

This creates dilemmas. Many of us balk at the idea of supporting ‘elite’ institutions, but at the same time don’t wish to bias our research to movements campaigning to ‘take back control’ even if we believe there may be merits to this. If anything, maybe this dilemma means we put our heads in the sand about the momentous consequences of the referendum, rather than being short of explanations for why it happened.  Now more than ever, good evidence is needed to improve public policy responses to the great challenges of our time. Governments need political science more than ever. But we should be confident in being critical of mainstream media and public opinion, whether that is as electoral commentators, advisors to government, or wider public speakers.

What Just Happened? Thoughts on the election

By Hal Wolman. Hal Wolman was the founding Director of the George Washington Institute of Public Policy (GWIPP) and served in that capacity from 2000-2012. He is an emeritus professor in the Department of Political Science at the George Washington University and a Research Professor in the George Washington Institute of Public Policy. Dr. Wolman is also a Non-Resident Senior Fellow at the Brookings Institution and a Fellow of the National Academy of Public Administration.


Donald Trump won.

The election was very, very close.  The switch of a relatively few votes (less than 1% in Michigan, Pennsylvania and Wisconsin) would have given the election to Clinton.  If that had happened there would have been a quite different narrative.  This was not a massive shift in voting behavior, but a shift on the margins.  That said, see first sentence above.

Indeed, Hillary Clinton won the popular vote.  But the correct response to that – besides saying that the Electoral College is an archaic institution – is, so what?  The election was fought under Electoral College rules, rules that both sides understood and which structured their behavior.  Had it been under the rules of a national popular vote, both candidates and their campaigns would have behaved much differently.  In particular, they would have spent a lot more of their time and resources in California, New York, and Texas, all essentially one-party very populous states which were non-competitive in electoral college terms and which were therefore largely ignored (except for fund raising).  In a national popular election one vote anywhere is as good as a vote anywhere else and the concept of “losing” a state would be meaningless.  Losing California by 1,000,000 votes rather than 1,000 has the same result in the Electoral College.  But it means you pick up 999,000 additional votes in a national popular vote election.  That means candidates would campaign where the most votes are.  And, under those circumstances it’s unclear who would have won.

So why did she lose?  Was it James Comey’s letter two weeks before the election?  Yes.  Was it Wikileaks constant drip of stolen emails?  Yes.  Was it third parties, particularly Jill Stein, but also Gary Johnson?  Yes.  Was it because she was just a bad candidate?  Yes.  Was it poor campaign strategy?  Yes.  Yes to all of these, because when an election is so close, anything that might have slightly pushed it in the direction of Trump could have made the difference.  But, the real culprit was…

Turnout.  Particularly among African-Americans, which was down substantially from 2008 and 2012 when Obama was running.  That’s not terribly surprising – high African-American turnout when the first African-American was running for President.  What’s surprising is that so called experts didn’t see African-American turnout dropping from these levels in 2016.  I suspect that, to the extent the polls got it wrong – and in the end the national polls didn’t get it very wrong – it was because they mis-estimated turnout among Democratic oriented groups.  (There is also some evidence that there were some people who said, out of concern that they would be harshly judged, that they intended to vote for Clinton when they really intended to vote for Trump.  Apparently a couple of polling firms conducted some telephone polls with a live interviewer and some through an automatic robotic type phone poll.  The latter consistently showed slightly more support for Trump, particularly among women.)  In addition the exit polls indicate that a slightly lower percentage of African-American who did go to the polls voted for Clinton than voted for Obama in 2012 and 2008 (again, not surprisingly).

Latino turnout did increase, but not as much as had been predicted.  And despite Trump’s focus on immigration, Mexican criminals, etc., Trump actually got a higher share of the Latino vote than did Romney in 2012!  Who knows why this happened?  (Although these exit poll results are contested.  See here.)

What about women?  Did the fact that the first woman ever to run for President help or hurt Hillary?  Don’t know, at least not yet.  There clearly was a shift of college-educated women from Republican to Democratic voting in 2016, which, since more educated women are likely to be more concerned with feminism (I think), is consistent with some advantage for Hillary as a result of her gender.  But it could also just as easily result from more highly-educated women being put off by the boorishness and grossness of Donald Trump.  Maybe some of each.

The clearest shift in voting behavior – and the one most commented on – is the shift among traditional working class Democrats, particularly in the industrial Midwestern and Middle-Atlantic states (Michigan, Wisconsin, Minnesota, Pennsylvania) from support of a Democratic candidate to support for Trump.  This has sometimes been portrayed as a rural vote, but it was clearly much more than that.  There simply aren’t enough people living in rural areas to make that much of a difference.  Instead it was people in smaller cities – think Scranton or Erie, PA, Akron and Youngstown, Ohio, Saginaw, Michigan, etc. – who were the switchers that mattered, and will matter in the future if the switch was permanent and not just one-off.

Why did this shift occur?  Given the tenor of the campaign, some have attributed it to racism.  Certainly the Trump campaign made it OK for racists and expressions of racism to be more publicly acceptable than they have been for a long time.  Nonetheless, I am not persuaded that racism was the main reason.  Remember, switch means that these are people who voted for an African-American for President in 2012 and 2008.  If they were willing to vote for an actual African-American then, why would racism explain a switch to Trump in 2016?  Maybe these are simply people to whom Trump had a special appeal in terms of a strong Macho (potentially authoritarian) candidate, much more so than a Romney or McCain did.  Working class authoritarianism is a well-documented phenomenon in the social sciences.

Maybe, as some have commented, it was a matter of working class whites as a group, a group experiencing the disappearance of traditional manufacturing jobs, higher rates of unemployment, and lower incomes, feeling left behind, disrespected, and their problems and issues ignored.  To get a sense of this, let’s take seriously the idea of trying to imagine – as we are frequently and rightfully told to do – what it’s like to be an African-American or a LGBT person, but this time let’s put  ourselves in the shoes of the white working class.  Is it possible that they might simply feel that “nobody – certainly not the political and economic elites – cares about me.”  They care about various minority groups, they care about gays, about immigrants, refugees, etc., but I’ve got problems too, and nobody seems to care.  I have no “identity” in a party that is characterized by identity group coalition politics (a coalition of victims as somebody has called it). They might even feel this way without being racist or homophobic (though some of them are certainly that as well).  Example: how does this sound to a member of the white working class?  The Black Lives Matter people say “Black Lives Matter.”  Bernie Sanders and Hillary Clinton and others respond at first by agreeing but then saying, “All Lives Matter.” They are shouted down until they toe the line and say simply “Black Lives Matter.”  Now, I know what the Black Lives Matter people were trying to do and what their concern was.  But think of how this sounds to white working class people, most of whom are not steeped in the history of white privilege or in the understanding of Black social movements.  It sounds pretty much like they are saying “people like me and our lives don’t matter.”  Not good.

What’s the effect going to be of a Trump presidency?  There goes the Supreme Court for a generation unless Ginsberg, Breyer, and Kennedy all manage to hang on for at least four more years.  In terms of policy, who knows?  I don’t believe Trump really has any true policy preferences.  The path of least resistance for him is to simply say, “I ran as a Republican, Paul Ryan is a Republican, he seems to have some strong feelings about policy, I guess I’ll run with that unless someone gives me a reason not to.   That wouldn’t be good, but in many ways it wouldn’t be awful.  As a country we’ve had Presidents with Paul Ryan type thinking before (e.g., Reagan) and we’ve survived it.  On the other hand, he may follow his own idiosyncratic path, which would mean in many cases war with Republicans in Congress as well as Democrats.  The real worry for everybody is in the foreign and military areas.  What’s he going to do when he finds out that Putin isn’t all that nice a guy after all and has insulted him by sending men in plain green uniforms into, say, Lithuania?  Threaten to drop a bomb on Moscow?  Actually drop a bomb on Moscow?  God save us all.

After Brexit, What Next? Not Much Mandate for Anything…

By Ben Saunders, Associate Professor in Political Philosophy at University of Southampton (@DrBenSaunders, Academia.edu).


 

As the dust settles after June’s referendum, it’s notable that the leaders of the Leave campaign (Johnson, Gove, Farage, Leadsom) have all vacated the main stage, leaving it to others to negotiate Britain’s exit from the EU. This is probably wise on their part, not only because the political divorce is likely to produce considerable short-term discomfort, but also because it seems that no one had any clear post-exit strategy.

We’re told that the British people have spoken and their will must be respected. But, even setting aside reports of widespread protest voting and regretful Leavers, it’s not clear what ‘the people’ (or 52% of them) voted for, beyond the obvious (leaving the EU). Leaving the EU doesn’t itself specify what alternative arrangements should be put in place.

Some want to withdraw as completely as possible from the European project – in particular, in order to control migration. Call this Total Exit, or TE for short. But not everyone in the Leave campaign favours TE. Others made quite clear that they welcome trade and cooperation with our European neighbours, they merely oppose the EU organisation and the threat of a federal European state. These people would be happy for the UK to adopt a position like Norway or Switzerland, not an EU member but not so different in practice. For want of a better label, call this Weak Exit or WE. (For simplicity, I’ll only consider two alternatives, though there are many possibilities.)

Obviously, these alternatives are incompatible. If the UK opts for WE, then we will have no more control over migration or over laws and regulations that continue to bind us. The referendum result will, officially, be respected – we’ll be out of the EU – but many of the 52% won’t be satisfied. But, on the other hand, if we got for TE then, though we’ll have control over these things, we won’t have the strong relations with Europe that were promised and, further, this is more likely to cause great economic disruption than WE. Again, a significant number of the 52% are likely to be dissatisfied – while they may have wanted out of the EU, they didn’t necessarily want TE.

It might be that the 52% are so strongly committed to leaving the EU that they would prefer either TE or WE to continued membership, but I doubt all of them feel this way. Someone who dislikes loss of sovereignty, but is also concerned about the possible economic effects of Brexit, might reasonably prefer WE to Remain, but also prefer Remain to TE. That is, their preferences might be WE > R > TE (with ‘R’ standing for ‘Remain). If they were moderately optimistic about what ‘Leave’ meant (i.e. WE), they would vote for Leave, but they would prefer Remain if the alternative were TE.

Conversely, someone whose chief concern was migration, while ideally wanting TE, might prefer Remain to WE. The Leave campaign emphasized the threat of Turkey joining the EU but, as a member, the UK would have a veto over this. If the UK ends up like Norway, having to accept free movement but without that veto, then the UK would actually have less control over migration than before. So it could be perfectly consistent for someone to prefer Remain over WE, even if their first choice would be TE. That is, TE > R > WE.

The Leave campaign was actually a coalition of people wanting inconsistent things. Some were voting for TE and some for WE. Since we can’t have both of these, it’s likely that a considerable number of Leave voters will end up disappointed, whatever the eventual outcome – and some of them might even have preferred to remain in the EU to the eventual outcome.

Given the closeness of the result, it might seem reasonably likely that, given a choice between ‘Remain or TE’ a majority of the population would have voted to Remain and, likewise, that given a choice between ‘Remain or WE’ a majority of the population would have voted to Remain. However, this isn’t necessarily the case. So far, I’ve only highlighted divisions amongst the Leavers, but the Remain voters might also have been influenced by lack of clarity over the options.

No doubt many amongst the 48% who voted to Remain prefer that to either TE or WE. However, it could be that some were simply pessimists about the likely consequences of Brexit. Suppose, for example, that someone would really prefer WE to Remain and Remain to TE (i.e. WE > R > TE). Such a person might nonetheless have voted to Remain if they (pessimistically) thought that Brexit was more likely to result in TE than WE. Had the ballot in fact given the choice between ‘Remain or WE’ then they would have switched their vote from Remain to WE. Likewise, someone whose preferences were TE > R > WE might have voted Remain had they feared that Leave would result in WE.

So, even if some Leavers would have voted Remain, given this choice, it’s also the case that some who actually voted to Remain might have voted to Leave, given a more concrete proposal. For all the talk about ‘respecting the will of the people’ the problem is that there are more than two options. The referendum didn’t really present a choice between two clear options, but rather a choice between the status quo and a mystery box. Now we’ve chosen to open the box, what’s inside is still unclear.

Though the referendum was not legally binding, I think it would be politically impossible for the government to ignore the result. The problem, however, with respecting the will of the people is identifying what it is that the people want. Given that the only really clear outcome of the referendum is that the people are deeply divided, and that both the Conservative Party and Labour Party have been plunged into leadership contests, probably the only certainty is that the political landscape will be unsettled for some time.

The shadow of Brexit: delegating or pooling sovereignty?

By Pia Riggirozzi (University of Southampton) and Diana Tussie (FLACSO/Argentina).

Pia Riggirozzi is Associate Professor in Global Politics at the University of Southampton (@PRiggirozziAcademia.edu). You can find more posts by Pia here.


 

On 23rd June, the United Kingdom voted to leave the European Union through a non-binding yet politically compelling referendum. The result was a close 48% remain and 52% leave, demonstrating a very divided society. This division is largely due to a combination of citizen frustration with an insulated and arrogant ruling elite and insensitive political leadership leading to apparently widespread support for anti-politics parties such as UKIP and insensitive political leadership and, more profoundly, a political-economic project that seems to be cutting away, wilfully and needlessly, at the welfare system and social contract that have hitherto guaranteed social peace in Britain. As we have indicated somewhere else, this is also part of the unravelling of neoliberalism in the UK where the Right is failing to impose an economic model based on rising inequality and the Left unable or unwilling to refashion a social contract of ‘caring capitalism’ or ‘capitalism with a human face’. As a society it manifested some deeply disturbing moral, emotional and human issues of ‘national’ identity preceding any responsibility towards ‘others’, being those immigrants that legally contribute to the UK economic activity and social life, or those ill-fated, dispossessed, immigrants and asylum seekers who are simply trying to survive. Equally disturbing is, as Grugel claimed, how all this ignores both the complexity of identity in Britain and a history of internationalism of the UK in global affairs.

As the British elite spins with the implications of the vote, there is much to reflect on the current crisis in the UK and indeed in Europe more widely. Brexit is about class, inequality, voters feeling excluded from politics, as much as a loss of purpose of what regional integration is for.

 

What regionalism is and is for

Crucially, Brexit revitalised a conventional argument that regional integration is associated with a reduction of state power, especially in terms of the ‘loss of sovereignty’ to markets and normative regulating flows of people, in this case workers and immigrants, to regional institutions. Taking control back of the country was the political platform of supporters who consider that integration in larger multilateral schemes means diminution of state power as a result of the ‘pooling’ of sovereignty or surrender to the regional level. Effectively, once policy measures such as tariff liberalisation are established at the regional level, national governments’ direct control over policy is sharply diminished. Authority is thus removed not only from the state but also from societal influence. But this is not necessarily incompatible with a revitalisation of state power. Aldo Ferrer, former Minister of Economy in Argentina, defended the thesis that a successful integration rests on coordinated ‘construction of sovereignty’. This construction does not rest upon the delegation of sovereignty to supranational communitarian institutions, which in a conglomerate of unequally resourced members could lead to the subordination of the weaker states to the hegemonic power of the stronger states, as the experience of the European Union demonstrates for cases such as Greece, Portugal and Spain, nor does it rest on the transfer of sovereignty to supranational institutions, but rather on inter-governmental institutions and agreements that adequately address regional economic and social disparities within the bloc. Regionalism, from this perspective, enhances governance through cross-border intergovernmental forms of cooperation, and identified instances of regionally coordinated programmes of resource redistribution, social regulation, regional provision of welfare goods and services, social rights (including regional mechanisms that give populations the means of claiming and challenging governments).

As such, the key question is less what regionalism is (in terms of its philosophical, legal, or institutional bases) and more one of how regionalism acts, the roles and purposes to which the practice of regionalism gives expression to political actors and policies. In other words, what practices and political imaginaries specific regional governance enable or obstruct, what issues are made visible as central problems, and what modes of action are supported as a consequence.

The Brexit outcome indicates that the Leave platform in the UK successfully created a false sense that Britain would be better off on its own. By capitalizing on anti-immigration sentiments, economic inequality, and lack of understanding of the EU, the Leave campaign won the support of voters that have been in many ways the disaffected – older, less educated, low working class or non working class, and whose concerns focused on the loss of jobs, rising inequality, the supposed misallocation of government funds to the EU instead of British systems, and the increase in immigration. Brexit created a sense of identity and self-image amongst those actors who reacted to a regional integration model perceived as failing to adequately address regional disparities within the economic bloc, and across and within societies.

Likewise, Brexit shows that citizens’ information about and engagement with regional politics and institutions is vital for legitimacy and demands for accountability. A key problem faced by the Remain campaign was the lack of accurate knowledge about the EU, its normative beyond movement of goods and people, and its relationship with Great Britain and the ordinary people, including frameworks for rights, including the right to health. A 2013 EU Survey found that nearly half of EU citizens said that they didn’t understand how the EU worked, or how monetary contributions may support cross national arrangements for free health coverage and tax rebates.

 

Opportunities for reclaiming and rebuilding sovereignty through regionalism

The Brexit vote has led many in Latin American commentators to wonder about the benefits and disadvantages of regional integration. From an economic point of view, there are concerns about the prospects of economic vulnerability led by financial volatility and a halt in ongoing bilateral trade agreements with the EU. Politically, sceptics claims that compared to Europe, Latin America did not develop any ‘integration initiatives meaningful enough for people to even consider leaving’, taking this as a sign of failure. In fact, claims that Latin American regionalism has failed have been common for more than a decade despite the fact that that regional initiatives have proliferated since at least the 1960s and despite its long tradition in a diversity of regional associations.

This conclusion is certainly persuasive given the recurrent politico-institutional and economic instabilities in Latin America and holds up well if regionalism is merely understood as an economic project. However, over the last two decades regional demands for – and supply of – regional initiatives in Latin America increasingly focused not on economic deepening but on regionally-anchored projects addressing social development. These recent developments are significantly different, in content and in institutional architecture, from the experiments of the 1990s or even in the early years of the new millennium. For this reason, the Union of South American Nations (UNASUR) and the Community of Latin American and Caribbean States (CELAC) for instance are seen as a manifestation of post-commercial or what we have identified as post-hegemonic regionalism with distinctive calls for reclaiming sovereignty collectively through, for instance, health and defense. From this perspective, we must pay new attention to the ways southern regional organisations are re-engineering normative frames and debates as to what the purpose of regional integration should be, what kinds of social policies are needed, and what roles regional institutions should play in helping members to achieve those policies. This is significant because regional normative frameworks articulate political forms of thinking that configure political agency; make central or even visible particular issues; and privilege particular forms of political practice. This is also key to rethink how regionalism can serve the purpose of strengthening sovereignty through regional diplomacy.

The case of regional health policy in South America helps to illustrate this point. In the field of health policy there are multiple tensions between the interests of international pharmaceutical industry, developing countries, their national health systems and citizens. UNASUR and Mercosur have taken action on access to medicines, coordinating active resistance to the dominance of pharmaceutical companies under a motto that links regional health diplomacy with sovereignty. As a consequence a new regional ‘Database on Medicine Prices’ was set up revealing the prices paid by South American countries for their drug purchases. By making the information public and comparative, UNASUR and Mercosur are seeking to provide policymakers and health authorities information to strengthen the position of member states in purchases of medicines vis-à-vis pharmaceutical companies. Likewise, UNASUR’s Health Council has recently launched a project for mapping regional pharmaceutical capacities, to coordinate regional policies for production of medicines. Within the WHO, UNASUR as a bloc has pressed to change international norms regarding the combat of counterfeit medical products. The harmonisation of policies on medicines means that MERCOSUR/UNASUR negotiated the price for public sector purchases of the anti-retroviral Darunavir to US$ 1.27 per tablet from up to US$ 2.98 paid by some South American governments; an agreement with the pharmaceutical Gilead for the lowest possible price for essential medicines to treat Hepatitis C. These are the ways in which South America has been constructing the coordinated construction of (health) sovereignty, ways that skew hegemonic heavy riding, do not hit the headlines, careful to keep policy discretion to cope with disparities but important enough to increase bargaining power in asymmetric situations. These features lie at the core of our understanding of post-hegemonic regionalism.

The Worst Week EVER for Politics?

By Gerry Stoker. Gerry Stoker is Professor of Governance at University of Southampton and Centenary Professor of Governance at the University of Canberra (Twitter).


The last week of June 2016 was the worst week for politics of my lifetime. I was born in 1955 and some terrible political events have unfolded since then but never before have all the vices of our politicians and our political system been so blatantly on display.

First we saw in the EU referendum campaign the most unashamed dishonesty in argument from both sides and then an incredible acceptance of that dishonesty in the aftermath of that result. Many politicians have a different approach to truthfulness from the rest of us with a view that telling lies is fine as long as it’s about winning an argument. Moreover they then compound the errors of the campaign with a new set of lies about how the message from the British public is clear so that they can claim the mandate is whatever they want it to be. Can we really be that sure what citizens meant to say when they voted? It’s the casual nature of this fraudulent posturing that is breath-taking.

Second, politicians appear to be resolutely committed to making promises that they know they cannot keep. This behaviour was a key feature of the EU campaign and it had continued in its aftermath. You cannot have both national control of immigration and economic regulation and full access to European markets. You cannot spend money twice. If any public funds are saved from leaving the EU they cannot be stretched to save the NHS, give us tax cuts and be spent on a myriad of other things. You cannot deliver economic development to “left behind” parts of Britain through speeches or even legislation. At best you can work up several policy tools — and back them with sustained finance over decades — that may stand some chance of success against the forces of global capitalism. They are no quick fixes to the uneven and unequal economic geography of Britain.

Third, politicians have displayed and continue to demonstrate astounding short-termism. To call a referendum to fix a row in your party or to campaign for an exit from the EU without any clear plan of how to do it was staggeringly irresponsible. The Conservatives may blame Corbyn for his weak campaigning, but the referendum and the campaign was born of politics learned on the playing fields of Eton and the oak-panelled halls of the Oxford Union. Their approach appears to have all the hallmarks of the casual and cavalier attitudes bred in our elite. Politicians are now focused on positioning themselves in the aftermath of the EU result and offered next to nothing in terms of longer-term vision or practicalities.

Fourth, and connected to the above, politicians have really outdone themselves in their commitment to being self-serving. Neither the national interest, nor even their party’s interest in many cases, appears to have figured in their thinking; just plain and simple personal ambition and ego. Corbyn and McDonnell join Gove and Johnson in getting top marks for their truly self-serving displays. But there are many other contenders.

Fifth, we have been assaulted by a series of stupid cults of celebrity and personality that have led followers to the abandonment of evidence and reasoned judgement. We have had Farage the pint-loving Dad’s Army sergeant with his loud-mouth version of “They don’t like it up them those Europeans”. We have had Boris the polymath and wit who turns out to be a total wally? We have had Corbyn the Messiah whose initials might be J.C but in reality is an out of his depth, old-style sectarian politico.

Sixth, the clumsiness and limitations of our simplistic majoritarian way of thinking about politics has been horribly exposed. We are told that Leave won plain and simple. Whereas what I see is a country terribly divided and that continues to be run by a government voted for by only a quarter of eligible electors. You might argue that being able to kick the government out if it fails gives a crude accountability to our system. But where is that after a referendum result? If Brexit proves to be a disaster do we ask all those who voted to Leave, well to leave or never vote again? What’s the seventh vice? After all, sins are supposed to present themselves in seven deadly forms. The last vice I am going to reserve for us as citizens rather than the politicians. It’s the vice of fatalism. I confess to be suffering from it. Everything I have just argued about the state of our politics would indicate that giving up on it would be a reasonable response. But I want to end with an attempt to break from the path of sin.

Insert here please your favourite cliché — such as the darkest hour comes before the dawn and then move from despair to a commitment to helping bring about change. Abandon the social media comfort zone where you tweet, Facebook and share your views with those who think exactly like you and go and join a political party or political movement. Although of course still use social media to promote this blog!  Remember that change in democracies comes about through mutual adjustment. We don’t need to like each other or even understand each other but simply hold that every citizen needs their interests addressed, even if their concerns can only be met partially. We need a politics of learning, trial-and-error rather than a politics of “I know” given the overwhelming uncertainties facing us. We need multiple small changes so that losers — and there will be many — can accept their position without abandoning democracy. We need new thinking and policies to make Britain a better place.

Politics done in this  inclusive but unflashy and restrained way might just help to restore our faith in its capacity to help rather than hinder. A week may be a long time in politics but this last week is going to take years of effort if we are to overhaul the flaws in our political system that it has revealed.