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Start Again: How We Can Fix Our Broken Politics
‘The bible for The Independent Group and many others’ Nick Robinson, Today ProgrammeStart Again is a life-raft for all those who find themselves politically adrift and a rallying cry for a better kind of politics
Britain is today divided old against young, class against class, region against region, nativist against cosmopolitan, rich against poor and London against the rest. Our country is divided by generation, by education, by place and by attitude.
Politics needs to be turned off and started again.
In this time of tumult, when Britain is wrestling with the question of what sort of nation it wishes to be, its politics is stuck.
Power is hoarded by a distant and unresponsive centre and our two largest political parties have both been captured by those on their outer edges.
Too many of us have been left politically homeless.
In Start Again, Philip Collins, Times journalist and until recently a lifelong Labour voter, offers a road map to a different political destination. It is a road map that, in recent days, has been taken up by many from both sides of the political divide.
Drawing on lessons from history Collins proposes new answers to today’s most urgent questions of education, work, health, housing, security, nationhood, and of how we can achieve a better future.
Hopeful, indignant and inspirational, this is a book for anyone who feels that politics no longer speaks to them.
Britain is today divided old against young, class against class, region against region, nativist against cosmopolitan, rich against poor and London against the rest. Our country is divided by generation, by education, by place and by attitude.
Politics needs to be turned off and started again.
In this time of tumult, when Britain is wrestling with the question of what sort of nation it wishes to be, its politics is stuck.
Power is hoarded by a distant and unresponsive centre and our two largest political parties have both been captured by those on their outer edges.
Too many of us have been left politically homeless.
In Start Again, Philip Collins, Times journalist and until recently a lifelong Labour voter, offers a road map to a different political destination. It is a road map that, in recent days, has been taken up by many from both sides of the political divide.
Drawing on lessons from history Collins proposes new answers to today’s most urgent questions of education, work, health, housing, security, nationhood, and of how we can achieve a better future.
Hopeful, indignant and inspirational, this is a book for anyone who feels that politics no longer speaks to them.
- GenresPoliticsNonfiction
169 pages, Kindle Edition
First published October 18, 2018
3 people are currently reading
45 people want to read
About the author
Philip Collins
53 books13 followersLibrarian Note: There are multiple authors by this name in the Goodreads database.
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Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews
December 10, 2019
I get it. You’ve read four, maybe five party manifestos already in this election. (I certainly have.) Why would you want to read another, written by a former speech-writer to Tony Blair? But maybe you are on a roll and isn’t an election about coming up with ideas for a better country and good ideas can come from anywhere and it might be fun and Lord knows there might be another election around the corner and policy policy policy vision vision vision.
It’s lunchtime right now in the office and I’ve just said that I’m reviewing this book. A colleague points out Collins’ ridiculous column in The Times on 28 November in which he argues that Labour (by which he means Corbynite) racism is worse than Tory racism because the Tories are ignorant bigots from whom nothing good can be expected while Corbyn and co have spent some time thinking about the Israel and Palestine question.
That rather throws me off course. On the one hand the quality of Collins’ ideas in Start Again do not rise or fall because he’s written a piece that more-or-less excuses one type of racism (and the more common and insidious type at that) while (correctly) condemning another. But we very rarely blind-mark what we read. And a piece of persuasive argument must - well, persuade. As a speechwriter and master of rhetoric Collins knows the arts of persuasion and part of that is getting the audience on your side. I was sort of on his side when I read the book - twice! Yes I started again - and today, based on a very small part of Collins’ written output, I am not. But the following comments are, I think, fair.
I read the book twice because the first time I found it frustrating but couldn’t place why. Collins does the whole personal story number (see also Peston and Goodall) and disassociates himself from the political class. He condemns the self-righteous and quotes Young on the dystopia created when the smug elite in what they think is a meritocracy start to believe that their good fortune is merited. Annoyingly, I think he is stronger when he is in columnist mode than when setting out his policy agenda: there are some nice barbs at the Conservatives (‘compassionate Conservatism draws our attention to the fact that compassion is not intrinsic to the creed’) and the critique of Labour could be fixed by better communicators (‘there is a finger-wagging bossiness to Labour politics which knows what is good for you’).
On the policy front, Collins perhaps predictably sets out a third way: fiscal discipline but a concern for the poorest and an encouragement of dissent. There is a very powerful section on the moral imperative to encourage people to read, though I am not sure about the assertion that all three year olds should follow in Collins’ footsteps and read The Times. Our house flitted between the Daily Express - in those days a newspaper - and the Guardian. I’m being flippant but Collins’ whole approach here is excellent and based on giving people the ‘space to write their own scripts of what the good life means to them.’ He is good, too, on breaking up concentrated power wherever it lies. And there are a few notions that may or may not be original but are none the less new to me, such as that the private rental housing market should be consolidated so that standards can be improved. That’s the kind of thing I came to read.
There’s good stuff in here…but there’s the other kind too. Assertions are made and not argued for. The royal staff ‘should’ be cut by at least half: a statement without an argument. ‘Dissent and democracy’ are what ‘defines the nation’ - as though France knows nothing of dissent, nor Germany of democracy. It’s lazy.
There are always going to be good proposals and bad in this type of book. But I think that the key problem is this: Collins sets out ten ‘condition of Britain’ questions that, if answered correctly will set us on a happier path. In turn, those questions are economic, then political, then cultural. They’re the wrong way round, aren’t they? How can you take politics and culture out of questions on investment and tax? The whole narrative running through the book - the story of Peel - would sit more happily if the order was reversed: if you started with the idea of the right thing for your country and ended with the means to provide it.
Come Friday, at least one party is going to want to rethink its approach. It should come and look at this book, as much for the arguments it doesn’t make, and the assumptions it takes for granted. If you’re going to start again, this is as good a place to start as any. But I am not convinced that this is where we, or they, will finish.
It’s lunchtime right now in the office and I’ve just said that I’m reviewing this book. A colleague points out Collins’ ridiculous column in The Times on 28 November in which he argues that Labour (by which he means Corbynite) racism is worse than Tory racism because the Tories are ignorant bigots from whom nothing good can be expected while Corbyn and co have spent some time thinking about the Israel and Palestine question.
That rather throws me off course. On the one hand the quality of Collins’ ideas in Start Again do not rise or fall because he’s written a piece that more-or-less excuses one type of racism (and the more common and insidious type at that) while (correctly) condemning another. But we very rarely blind-mark what we read. And a piece of persuasive argument must - well, persuade. As a speechwriter and master of rhetoric Collins knows the arts of persuasion and part of that is getting the audience on your side. I was sort of on his side when I read the book - twice! Yes I started again - and today, based on a very small part of Collins’ written output, I am not. But the following comments are, I think, fair.
I read the book twice because the first time I found it frustrating but couldn’t place why. Collins does the whole personal story number (see also Peston and Goodall) and disassociates himself from the political class. He condemns the self-righteous and quotes Young on the dystopia created when the smug elite in what they think is a meritocracy start to believe that their good fortune is merited. Annoyingly, I think he is stronger when he is in columnist mode than when setting out his policy agenda: there are some nice barbs at the Conservatives (‘compassionate Conservatism draws our attention to the fact that compassion is not intrinsic to the creed’) and the critique of Labour could be fixed by better communicators (‘there is a finger-wagging bossiness to Labour politics which knows what is good for you’).
On the policy front, Collins perhaps predictably sets out a third way: fiscal discipline but a concern for the poorest and an encouragement of dissent. There is a very powerful section on the moral imperative to encourage people to read, though I am not sure about the assertion that all three year olds should follow in Collins’ footsteps and read The Times. Our house flitted between the Daily Express - in those days a newspaper - and the Guardian. I’m being flippant but Collins’ whole approach here is excellent and based on giving people the ‘space to write their own scripts of what the good life means to them.’ He is good, too, on breaking up concentrated power wherever it lies. And there are a few notions that may or may not be original but are none the less new to me, such as that the private rental housing market should be consolidated so that standards can be improved. That’s the kind of thing I came to read.
There’s good stuff in here…but there’s the other kind too. Assertions are made and not argued for. The royal staff ‘should’ be cut by at least half: a statement without an argument. ‘Dissent and democracy’ are what ‘defines the nation’ - as though France knows nothing of dissent, nor Germany of democracy. It’s lazy.
There are always going to be good proposals and bad in this type of book. But I think that the key problem is this: Collins sets out ten ‘condition of Britain’ questions that, if answered correctly will set us on a happier path. In turn, those questions are economic, then political, then cultural. They’re the wrong way round, aren’t they? How can you take politics and culture out of questions on investment and tax? The whole narrative running through the book - the story of Peel - would sit more happily if the order was reversed: if you started with the idea of the right thing for your country and ended with the means to provide it.
Come Friday, at least one party is going to want to rethink its approach. It should come and look at this book, as much for the arguments it doesn’t make, and the assumptions it takes for granted. If you’re going to start again, this is as good a place to start as any. But I am not convinced that this is where we, or they, will finish.
August 5, 2019
Released: 18th October 2018
Genre: Politics, Society, Non-Fiction
Number of Pages: 214
The UK is in a tricky spot right now; massive, gaping divides have opened throughout society since the 2016 EU referendum polarised the entire country. Where do we go from here? How do we move forward? What measures can be put in place to ensure Britain’s future? Philip Collins of The Times newspaper has a modest and mostly balanced collection of possible answers.
Just like the torn front cover advertises, Collins proposes an extended set of comprises, suggesting that both the left and the right are currently hampered by numerous grievances and that a combination of both sides is needed to move forward in a practical centrist movement. Divided into six chapters, the most major theme of the book is a “common wealth”, something that the every part of the UK can share in while also collectively devising solutions to countless areas. Some examples include allowing 16 and 17-year-olds to vote, refining the education system to ensure more efficient learning of literacy and simplifying the monarchy and civil service to free up funds to name a few. Each of these strategies is well explained and deftly incorporated into our current political system while also feeling very level-headed. The author never goes on a large tirade against either side of politics and this ensures things don’t get biased.
The novel is also very reflective, pondering over where the UK stands after 2016 and where it could go in the future; this will strike a chord with the target reading audience as many citizens, myself included, wonder which direction the nation will take. The only real drawback in the book is some of the deep dives into previous political events in the UK, which are used to inform Philip’s thought process, and these can be a little overbearing at times; extended conversations on how power shifts, points on aspects of old British society and a sprinkling of historical contexts take up quite a few pages and these could have been streamlined to divert more attention to the author’s central ideas.
Recommended?
MAYBE: Start Again has been written for a very specific audience, those that sit on the left and right wings of UK politics may not be convinced by this different approach to run the nation. With that said, many of the ideas presented by Collins feel pragmatic and well-informed by previous experiences, imbuing a sense of curiosity as to how they would be implemented. For those feeling politically homeless in these tumultuous times, I highly recommend the book as it proposes a new direction that many can get consider or even get behind.
Genre: Politics, Society, Non-Fiction
Number of Pages: 214
The UK is in a tricky spot right now; massive, gaping divides have opened throughout society since the 2016 EU referendum polarised the entire country. Where do we go from here? How do we move forward? What measures can be put in place to ensure Britain’s future? Philip Collins of The Times newspaper has a modest and mostly balanced collection of possible answers.
Just like the torn front cover advertises, Collins proposes an extended set of comprises, suggesting that both the left and the right are currently hampered by numerous grievances and that a combination of both sides is needed to move forward in a practical centrist movement. Divided into six chapters, the most major theme of the book is a “common wealth”, something that the every part of the UK can share in while also collectively devising solutions to countless areas. Some examples include allowing 16 and 17-year-olds to vote, refining the education system to ensure more efficient learning of literacy and simplifying the monarchy and civil service to free up funds to name a few. Each of these strategies is well explained and deftly incorporated into our current political system while also feeling very level-headed. The author never goes on a large tirade against either side of politics and this ensures things don’t get biased.
The novel is also very reflective, pondering over where the UK stands after 2016 and where it could go in the future; this will strike a chord with the target reading audience as many citizens, myself included, wonder which direction the nation will take. The only real drawback in the book is some of the deep dives into previous political events in the UK, which are used to inform Philip’s thought process, and these can be a little overbearing at times; extended conversations on how power shifts, points on aspects of old British society and a sprinkling of historical contexts take up quite a few pages and these could have been streamlined to divert more attention to the author’s central ideas.
Recommended?
MAYBE: Start Again has been written for a very specific audience, those that sit on the left and right wings of UK politics may not be convinced by this different approach to run the nation. With that said, many of the ideas presented by Collins feel pragmatic and well-informed by previous experiences, imbuing a sense of curiosity as to how they would be implemented. For those feeling politically homeless in these tumultuous times, I highly recommend the book as it proposes a new direction that many can get consider or even get behind.
November 30, 2018
Yes please.
There's little here I'd disagree with, really, and the idea that much of it can be found in the original deeds of municipal liberalism and capitalism-with-a-conscience is convincing. I never got round to reading Maurice Glassman and the Blue Labour thing, but I suspect much of it can be found in here: the idea of welfare as egalitarian but contributory; the idea of localism; nation state as a good thing, etc. I loved the rebuttal of the right's sovereignty fetish (sovereignty in the 21st century is like a bloke on the tube during rush hour getting all hissy about personal space and Brompton room).
I also really enjoyed the memoir element of it: the ceiling-blasting power of reading; the Tory materfamilias teaching Collins to read at three from The Times in 1970 (it's fairly established in my family that my older brother taught me to read from Peter and Jane). He's absolutely right about the beauty of a power transition and the ballot box. It's so easy to forget how miraculous the peaceful transfer of power is in a democracy.
Slightly scattergun and shopping listy in places and only a few turkeys. I'm an ardent republican, but I nowadays 'get' and agree to humour the British thing for monarchy - it's like panto and Sunday Roasts... fucking awful rituals but you just have to leave them to it. So the idea of streamlining the honours system and de-dafting parliamentary ritual feels a bit de trop (seriously: it'll never happen).
Bravo. If only even half of this would happen.
There's little here I'd disagree with, really, and the idea that much of it can be found in the original deeds of municipal liberalism and capitalism-with-a-conscience is convincing. I never got round to reading Maurice Glassman and the Blue Labour thing, but I suspect much of it can be found in here: the idea of welfare as egalitarian but contributory; the idea of localism; nation state as a good thing, etc. I loved the rebuttal of the right's sovereignty fetish (sovereignty in the 21st century is like a bloke on the tube during rush hour getting all hissy about personal space and Brompton room).
I also really enjoyed the memoir element of it: the ceiling-blasting power of reading; the Tory materfamilias teaching Collins to read at three from The Times in 1970 (it's fairly established in my family that my older brother taught me to read from Peter and Jane). He's absolutely right about the beauty of a power transition and the ballot box. It's so easy to forget how miraculous the peaceful transfer of power is in a democracy.
Slightly scattergun and shopping listy in places and only a few turkeys. I'm an ardent republican, but I nowadays 'get' and agree to humour the British thing for monarchy - it's like panto and Sunday Roasts... fucking awful rituals but you just have to leave them to it. So the idea of streamlining the honours system and de-dafting parliamentary ritual feels a bit de trop (seriously: it'll never happen).
Bravo. If only even half of this would happen.
January 5, 2024
An optimistic read, that veers towards fantasy and then nosedives into complete impracticality, I found this book as intriguing as it was frustrating. It talks of fixing Britain's millennium-long political institutions as if it's a child's building blocks, that can be easily dismantled and then restructured to make everything rosy. The ideas presented are good and admirable, but run headfirst into the harsh reality of human self-interest and political entanglement. Working within the current parameters of a political system that has dismembered its electorate through charlatanism and mismanagement is hard enough, but to then suggest uprooting those same systems that have stood for centuries to implant the new ones for the 'good of the common wealth' is naive at best and completely incoherent at worst. The book is also littered with factoids and statistics that have no references or footnotes to mention: I know the author worked for the Times and in 10 Downing Street, but that doesn't give a free pass to being accountable within one's own work.
Overall, this was a hopeful book of hopeless ideas.
Overall, this was a hopeful book of hopeless ideas.
May 24, 2023
Pamphlet which argues for abandoning several shibboleths of the last century given the changed make-up of the UK. Dustings of memoir, political history and data which cohere and may inspire the reader.
Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews