It’s Time to Abandon the Left vs Right Divide

Brexiteer. Corbynista. Thatcherite. Labels are common in politics today. Traditionally they have served the purpose of allowing us to compare different politicians or political movements, while broadly defining ourselves in relation to them. But are the terms we use still of value? Perhaps more pertinently – are they actually distorting our democracy to the point of harm?

Our obsession with labels exists down to the factional level, with the latest example being the Labour leadership election. Candidates are scrambling to align (or disentangle) themselves with the labels of Corbynism or Blairism, although some candidates, including Sir Kier Starmer, have been quick to adjudge that they are not appropriately categorised by either label. Blairism carries the burden of Iraq, while Corbynism’s cross is electoral cataclysm. Any attempt to associate individual candidates with previous leaders of the party is crass and unhelpful.

If labels are incapable of recognising nuance within a political movement, then how can they possibly be appropriate on a more macro level? As you continue to zoom further out from party factions, the ultimate labels that define our politics are whether someone is considered ‘left’ or ‘right’ wing. A superficial definition of the left would be a more collective approach to politics – higher taxes and welfare, while a similarly crass definition of the right would be a market-orientated individual approach – lower taxes, smaller state. Even these definitions are, however, fraught with difficulty and inconsistency. Anybody who thinks this is innocuous ought to think again.

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The USA

To aid the discussion, I will separate the analysis of these terms between the USA and the UK, although it would certainly be an interesting topic to compare the relative definitions between these two countries. The United States has always prided itself on its ‘moderate’ politics – it avoided both fascism and socialism in the 20^th Century, and any distinction between left and right in America is therefore considered to be a matter of degrees: minor adjustments within the centre of the political spectrum. Broadly speaking, however, the American right focuses on social conservatism alongside pro-market, small state economic policy. The American left, by contrast, is more socially liberal and generally supports higher taxes and state spending.

This all sounds sensible. It is largely what we have come to expect from American politics, and it seems to make sense. But once you ask the ever-important question of ‘why?’ the system starts to fall apart. Why should it be the case that support for a smaller state is intellectually coupled with pro-life morality? Why would supporting higher taxes on the wealthy imply advocation of positive discrimination? There is absolutely no reason why economic opinions should reflect on social opinions – other than the fact we are told these go together. The crass labels which we are surrounded by every day put us in intellectual boxes and nudge us towards groups and opinions which we may not have autonomously associated with. This effect is exacerbated in the modern era with online ‘echo chambers’ which further reinforce an abstract coalition of economic and social beliefs.

But the damage caused does not end there. The labels we are ascribed carry certain value judgements which further shape our perspectives on other individuals. Right-wing economics carries a degree of hard-headed legitimacy – the implication being that a smaller state will reduce deficits and stabilise the economy (the economic truth behind the ‘small state’ is questionable, and I will discuss this another time). American history shows us, however, that right-wing politicians are notoriously poor at keeping balanced budgets when held in comparison to their ‘left-wing’ compatriots. Ronald Reagan accrued an additional $1.4tn to the budgetary deficit during his premiership – a deficit which was only wiped out under the Democratic leadership of Bill Clinton. Donald Trump’s tax cuts have cost the state billions – the deficit has increased substantially under Republican stewardship when compared to Obama’s government. But by labelling Trump as ‘right-wing’, he is afforded some economic credibility purely by virtue of the label. Any Democrat, or self-proclaimed ‘lefty’, attempting to operate with Trump’s deficit would be hounded out of government by the press (and most likely by the public as well). However, due to the false associations of the label he operates under, Trump is granted immunity.

The same is true for Democrats carrying a degree of ‘moral authority’ due to associations with a more communitarian brand of politics. Obama was certainly the recipient of favourable treatment on this basis. While his domestic economic agenda can be considered progressive, this associative moral virtue certainly did not extend to his foreign policy. Obama launched airstrikes or military raids in seven different countries, and is the first President to have been at war for the entirety of a two-term tenure. Obama is, however, the recipient of a Nobel Peace Prize. It is clearly impossible to accurately judge Obama’s reputation had he been flying the Republican flag, but it is likely that his association with left-wing morality provided Obama a degree of leeway with foreign policy violence that would not be afforded to, say, Donald Trump. For both Trump and Obama therefore, the ideological boxes we put them in have serious implications for their accountability.

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The UK

The UK has a stronger socialist tradition than the United States, and so it could be argued that historically the labels of ‘left’ and ‘right’ are more appropriate for British politics. Tensions within these definitions have been bubbling away for some time however, just waiting for a spark to bring them bubbling over. And that spark came in dramatic style – in the form of Brexit.

The fundamental tension at the heart of the British left/right divide is the role of liberalism in the political spectrum. Different aspects of liberalism have been cherry-picked by the Labour and Conservative party in an ad-hoc manner, producing an entirely incoherent and muddled distinction between the political traditions.

Neo-liberalism is a word that is often associated with the British Conservative party, and it is a word that is often misunderstood. An academic definition of neo-liberalism is the fusion of classical liberal economics (minimal state, free markets, free trade) with social conservatism (family values, Christian ethics, tradition). Free markets and free trade, however, operate alongside a third freedom. Free movement of people. People, according to liberal economics, are understood as a labour commodity and therefore ought to be able to travel freely across borders to maximise efficiency. “But I thought the right were opposed to immigration?”. Herein lies the tension.

The two major parties, while being traditionally ideologically opposed along left vs right lines, are both internally split over the question of immigration. But this issue is far greater than just immigration – it is a broader question of support for globalisation. This is the issue that is mobilising politicians in our recent parliaments: the formation of Change UK, the Brexit Party and Johnson’s premiership all indicate that the question of globalisation has superseded questions of taxation and government spending. Anna Soubry found that her politics was more aptly aligned with Chris Leslie than Jacob Rees-Mogg, and Corbyn can personally testify that trying to unite the Labour party around the question of globalisation is an impossible task.

For very different reasons to the USA, then, the inadequate labels of left and right are causing existential damage to the British political system. Organising the Labour party along these lines has produced quite astonishing rifts which left the party incapable of scrutinising the government. Johnson’s Brexiteering premiership isolated the most distinguished and established members of not only his party, but the entire parliament. It is becoming increasingly clear that organising parliament along left/right lines is about as useful as splitting the house based on their view of Marmite. For British politics to function in a healthy and coherent manner, we need to rethink the established party lines along more relevant and topical boundaries.