In the past week, a couple of stories caught my eye, as they
sparked considerable media attention. Nick
Clegg promised free school meals for all children in their first three years of
primary school, and the
Association of Chief Police Officers (ACPO) proposed ‘drunk tanks’ for
those who were so drunk they were ‘incapable of looking after themselves’.
At first sight, you might think there’s little to connect the
two policies, but I’d suggest they’re two sides of the same argument, regarding
universalism. This sparked me thinking about the ideas I'll ramble about in this post.
Daniel Sage has talked about this (relatively) recently over
at his blog Knowledge
is Porridge. His argument was that
Labour seemed to be moving away from the idea of universal benefits, and
suggested that it’s universal services
that command support and engage people – think of the NHS, most obviously, but
also schools and public transport (especially for pensioners).
Nick Clegg’s free school meals, and Labour’s recent
announcement on childcare, can be understood in this light: providing universal
services to all children.
However, there’s immediately a potential problem with this initiative
being classified as ‘universal’: if we take the unit of analysis as an adult (rather than all children) then it
could be argued that the service only immediately benefits those who have
children.
I have heard this same argument advanced in all sorts of
contexts. For example, people sometimes
complain that their union does nothing for them – which can often be seen as a
positive thing if this is because they’ve never had cause to draw on legal
support, other funds or the helplines provided.
The idea in the back of people’s minds when they say this is
that people should pay for what they use – and this is not the principle behind
the NHS or union services.
Examples of this idea in practice might include the
suggestion that those
who consume particular amounts of alcohol or fatty
foods should pay for their own medical treatment, rather than relying on
the NHS, because they have caused their own illness. This is what distinguishes ACPO’s proposed
‘drunk tanks’ from triage
models already in place in town and city centres which mean that drinkers
aren’t admitted to hospital emergency departments at great cost: the drinkers
themselves would face fines to pay for the service they have received.
However, it’s hard to draw the line as to where someone is
at fault for their illness. Thinking of
alcohol-related issues specifically, alcohol is understood to distort reasoning
through its effects as both an intoxicant and an addictive substance. For centuries the British legal system has
struggled with the issue of how alcohol affects a person’s responsibility, and
we still don’t have an entirely satisfactory answer.*
On the other hand, there’s the
suggestion that actually addiction isn’t so opposed to rationality as we might
sometimes think.
One response to this issue, particularly for those on the
left, is to argue that, yes, people are rational and they should take some
responsibility for their actions, but they don’t start from equal positions in
the game of life. This can mean in
practice an emphasis on cultural or wider structural factors that affect
people’s propensity to behave in certain ways.
‘Lifestyle’
might be a class issue.
This doesn’t in itself undermine the agency or rationality
of those who do behave in ways that might be deemed damaging to their
health. The link above about addiction
and rationality points to an interview with Carl Hart from Colombia University
(I’d also recommend the Q&A on his
own website). His train of thought
isn’t to say that crack addicts, being rational, therefore have themselves to
blame because they could theoretically make different decisions. Rather, he suggests: “If you’re living in a
poor neighborhood deprived of options, there’s a certain rationality to keep
taking a drug that will give you some temporary pleasure”. The whole point is that his experimental work
presented crack users with genuine choices – which meant that they often chose
something other than crack.
However, these arguments are unlikely to persuade those who
have a worldview that emphasises personal autonomy and responsibility –
precisely those who are most likely to be opposed to the idea of universalism
in the first place.** Such a worldview,
with an emphasis on the market, tends to take something of a moral or natural
selection view of life: people sink or swim, win or lose, live or die by their
own merits and luck.
And indeed, those on the right may be as tempted as those on
the left to argue that ‘lifestyle’
is a class issue – class (or more accurately groupings of people, say chavs, the
underclass, the
mass) can be mobilised as a negative concept, as much condemning as
explaining.
What I want to suggest here is an alternative way of
addressing this criticism of universalism.***
In the end, we come back to some ideas from my
previous post about risk and population health.
A focus on personal responsibility tends also to mean an
opposition to population-wide measures, as these
are seen as hurting the ‘responsible majority’. A targeted approach, according to this ‘consequentialist’
view, seems much fairer. We should be
left to get on with our own decision-making, with the attention directed at
those whose actions produce negative outcomes – the
doughnut eaters who end up with diabetes.
However, it’s revealing that a standard alternative offered
to universal health care is an insurance-based system. Such an approach highlights the importance of
the concept of ‘risk’ in understanding alcohol harm. Just like those union dues, we pay insurance
because we don’t know how likely we are to suffer some form of misfortune. And in fact, at our individual level, neither
does the insurance company – rather, it aggregates the risk in the same way
that a government would do in formulating a total consumption model of alcohol
harm.
This idea of risk is generally accepted by
liberals/libertarians – note Chris
Snowdon’s comment on my last post: the government shouldn’t be intervening
because the risks are ‘trivial’ at an individual level for the levels of
consumption we’re talking about.
But inherent in risk is a lack of certainty. And such a lack of certainty is hard to
manage if you’re a rational actor. This
would be fine if you could be given probabilities of your actions: you
pays you money, you takes your choice.
But we’re
also told that the advice offered by medical practitioners regarding
alcohol consumption is unreliable, with recommended daily consumption
guidelines having been ‘plucked out of the air’. That is, there are no reliable estimates at
an individual level for the risks associated with drinking. It’s precisely this point – that we’re not
really able to assess our own level of individual risk – that lies behind
population-wide interventions.
Of course one instant response is to say that such
theoretical nuances don’t really apply to the reality of serious ‘lifestyle’
related illnesses – the alcoholic or the doughnut eater. But thinking again of alcohol it’s not that
easy to say that there are clear-cut cases.
Not all heavy drinkers suffer from alcohol-related liver disease, for
example, – and
certainly not cirrhosis – and on the other hand genetic
or other compounding factors can increase your risk. Moreover, there might be no
outward warning signs until the liver has been extensively damaged.
That makes rational decision-making about one’s alcohol
consumption pretty tough – especially if we are to disregard government
recommended limits – which makes it harder to place the responsibility for an individual’s
alcohol-related illness entirely at their door.
The alternative, I’d have thought, would be to accept some idea of
reasonable risk metrics – and that’s something the
temperance movement could perhaps help us with. Though I’m not sure that would go down too
well those opposed to universalism and population-wide alcohol control.
(This argument might
apply more to the longer-term health effects of alcohol rather than the
immediate ending up in a triage unit at 1am on a Saturday morning, but I’d like
to think it’s still worth thinking about in alcohol policy discussions.)
*There are great chapters covering this issue here: http://www.palgrave.com/products/title.aspx?pid=550243
**Notably, the articles I link to above that mention people
paying for care related to ‘lifestyle’ decisions are based on comments from
individuals associated with Policy
Exchange and the IEA, both of which
advocate free market solutions to public policy issues – i.e. have considerable
faith in models based on an individual rational actor.
***It should also be noted that rational-choice models can
acknowledge the importance of context, just like Carl Hart’s model of crack
users. Iain Duncan Smith sees it as his
mission to make work pay.,
his model could be understood as suggesting that people are simply taking
rational advantage of an apparently warped system.
Hi Will - thanks for the link! Great post... I'm sure you know this but much of the critical writing on risk differentiates it from uncertainty, which is not felt to be calculable. And for risk you need evidence, numbers, so it becomes a different kind of debate. Of course it's much easier to calculate risk for populations than for individuals, and both actuaries and public health statisticians are careful not to suggest an individual case will neatly fit the probability curve - that's the thing about big numbers. Problem is, that doesn't help if you want to give health advice to the individual...
ReplyDeleteThe wider issue is, as you say, the idea that we pay in because we will benefit ourselves. This not only demonstrates our inability to think socially but also to think historically - because the first generation to receive the benefits of socialised insurance and welfare could not, obviously, have paid for them.
Thanks James. You're right that I might express things more clearly if I made that distinction in terminology.
ReplyDeleteOn the individual guidelines point, it's an imprecise science, really, but personally I think the current UK guidelines aren't unhelpful. It's one of those situations that emphasises how all public policy is compromise.
On the wider universalism issue, I do get worried when politicians start to justify public services in contributory terms, as it undermines the idea of universalism which, even if it shouldn't apply to all services all the time, has some merit.
This isn't just about universalism; it's about the quality of public debate more broadly. In higher education, I think the debate is devalued by the Russell Group too readily engaging in the economism of BIS in order to win funding. Sure you can gain through arguments on this, but there's more to HE than this, which gets missed, and that has longer-term consequences. (However, that doesn't mean Stefan Collini's arguments make sense...)
Anyway, enough tangential rambling. Thanks again.