Tag Archives: The Guardian

Don’t blame the intelligence agencies for jihadism

I can’t really relate to anything thats going on with what’s called radical Islam. Any more than I  could relate to any other fundamental religious group. Its just so far  beyond my way of thinking about other human beings, that I simply can’t get a handle on it all. 

The key thing seems to to be that someone quite ordinary turns a corner and steps over a line. Someone likely to have easily exploitable human weakness that can be molded in to a suitable image and form to do the work of others whilst believing that its of their own free will.  


Powered by Guardian.co.ukThis article titled “Don’t blame the intelligence agencies for jihadism” was written by Matthew d’Ancona, for The Guardian on Sunday 1st March 2015 19.28 UTC

We have refined our collective critique of Big Brother with the precision of picky consumers rather than principled citizens. Most of the time we don’t want BB around and complain of his intrusions, real or imagined. But when things go wrong – when a young Londoner suddenly becomes a global figurehead of murderous Islamism, for instance – we resent the state even more. To put it plainly: the only thing we object to more strenuously than MI5 taking action is MI5 failing to do so.

This is the paradox that has been evident once again since the naming of “Jihadi John” as Mohammed Emwazi. It is a commonplace to argue that the intelligence agencies in the country are powerful (and power-hungry) to an extent that threatens the fibre of democratic society. Yet good old doublethink enables such a claim to coexist with the charge that the security service was somehow responsible for Emwazi’s actions by its sins of commission (trying to recruit him) and omission (letting him “slip the net” and flee to Syria).

Over the weekend politicians rushed towards the controversy, megaphones in hand. David Davis, a big beast whose talents would have been better deployed as part of the coalition, made the baffling claim in these pages that the spooks settle for a “disruption and management” strategy when they and their colleagues in the police and CPS should be pursuing and prosecuting Islamic extremists.

Would that such a simple choice were available. The problem facing any intelligence agency is precisely that the evidence required to mount a prosecution is so often lacking. It follows that a suite of counterterrorist powers must be made available to such agencies by parliament and, quite rightly, subjected to regular review and structures of accountability. But what powers, applied where, and with what degree of severity?

The coalition is at present split over the ban on extremist speakers at universities. Vince Cable, who is responsible for higher education, wants only explicit incitement to terrorism to be prohibited in the guidelines; Theresa May seeks a broader definition. Both cabinet ministers, please note, are potential leaders of their respective parties: with only 66 days to go before the general election, everything they say, or allow to be known, is entangled with these ambitions.

David Cameron’s government, of course, has already replaced Labour’s control orders with Tpims – terrorism prevention and investigation measures – which have proved to be only a couple of notches up from useless. To date, two militants have escaped this weak system and absconded to Somalia.

Yvette Cooper, the shadow home secretary, was quite right to argue on The Andrew Marr Show that the power of relocation, which removed the terror suspect from his geographic network, should be restored. But what will parliament actually do when it considers the question, almost certainly after the election? And will there be a stable government to lead opinion at Westminster?

To delve into such questions, one must remember that politicians, like generals, are usually fighting the last war. In the long years of opposition, many Tories came to regard the counterterrorist measures proposed by Tony Blair and Gordon Brown as a subcategory of New Labour authoritarianism rather than a legitimate response to the post-9/11 threat. The Conservative party postured as “hard-nosed defenders of freedom”, which is up there with “predistribution” in the annals of political nonsense. For decades the Tories had been the party of security and law and order. Yet faced with Big Blair and Even Bigger Brown, many of them embraced a retro-libertarianism that owed more to Magna Carta than Shami Chakrabarti.

This surge of “Runnymede Conservatism” reached its apogee in Davis’s resignation as MP for Haltemprice and Howden in 2008, in protest at Brown’s plan to extend the limit for pre-charge detention of terror suspects to 42 days. This strand of contemporary Toryism also helped to cement the coalition. As the Cameron-Clegg programme for government put it: “The [coalition] believes that the British state has become too authoritarian, and that over the past decade it has abused and eroded fundamental human freedoms and historic civil liberties.”

The pieties of 2010 have been eroded by the experience of office. As home secretary, May has found herself thwarted by loopholes – notably when she sought to deport Abu Qatada – rather than reining in the supposedly tyrannous state created by New Labour. To understand the Conservative urge to renegotiate Britain’s position in Europe and the status of the European Convention on Human Rights look no further than ministers’ exasperation over the pursuit of terror suspects and the limitations imposed by Brussels and Strasbourg.

The intelligence agencies themselves are constrained by a legal web, and rightly so. No less inevitably, they have limited resources.

There is a weekly meeting at MI5 at which senior officers discuss which “persons of interest” are to be monitored intensively, round the clock. There are several thousand such people – Emwazi was one – but only a few can be subjected to round-the-clock surveillance. How could it be otherwise?

When we speak of suspects “slipping the net”, we imply counterterrorist agencies can intercept every such jihadi on his way to commit violence, every such plot to spill blood at home or abroad. Given the odds, it is frankly remarkable any are stopped at all.

It cannot be stated too often: contemporary jihadis are not like the IRA, or the UDA or Eta. They exploit what the greatest guide to the post-9/11 world, Philip Bobbitt, calls the “unique vulnerabilities of globalised, network market states” and a “connectivity that allows a cascading series of vulnerabilities to be exploited”.

Today’s Islamist militants do not operate within a cellular hierarchy, but more closely resemble local holders of a global franchise. They are self-starters, morphing capriciously from one role to another (the Madrid bombers were essentially book-keepers who became suddenly ambitious). Mohammad Sidique Khan, the presumed leader of the 7/7 plot, had indeed come to MI5’s attention a year earlier, in Operation Crevice. Yet, in 2004, he was still a relatively peripheral figure.

What made Emwazi become what he has become, able to do what he has done? What we call “radicalisation” – the walk from one side of the flaming bridge to the other – often occurs in a very short space of time, for reasons that resist pat psychological speculation: to know the reasons why would be to decode the secrets of the soul. Against such mysteries it is not the power of the state that is truly frightening, but its weakness.

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Can you give a child too much praise?

Interesting. My father was fairly scathing of anything I attempted to do. Certainly  at no point can I recall him ever giving me any encouragement in anything: I do wonder if  thats the reason why I tend not to be ever satisfied with anything that I do. I tend to look for faults. A bit of a pat on the back occasionally might have helped.  


Powered by Guardian.co.ukThis article titled “Can you give a child too much praise?” was written by Tim Lott, for The Guardian on Friday 27th February 2015 13.30 UTC

My children are perfect. All four of them. Perfect and beautiful and clever. I bet yours are, too. Except, of course, they are not. In reality, my children and yours are likely to be reasonably average in terms of looks, behaviour, intelligence and charm. That’s why it is called average. Your belief in your child being special is more probably a biological imperative than an empirical fact.

A loved one, particularly a loved child, is edited as we observe them. Other people’s children are bratty; ours are spirited. Theirs are precocious; ours confident and self-assertive.

This is all natural and even touching when not taken too far. However, it is one thing feeding this propaganda to ourselves but feeding it to our children may be a little less desirable. We have the idea that – unlike my parents’ generation – we should build our children’s self-esteem as high as we can. Therefore, their random scribble is up there with Picasso, their C-minus is an unfortunate oversight on the part of the teacher, the fact that no one wants to be friends with them is because they are particularly clever or sensitive, the wart on their nose is a beauty spot.

Children see through this kind of thing very quickly and discount their parents’ compliments as a matter of course. As they grow up, they sense that the wider world judges them differently. This leads to a – hopefully gentle – cynicism about anything their parents tell them about their achievements. Perhaps that is OK – but I’m not sure it is good for them to have the currency of parental praise so devalued.

If parents were a little harsher sometimes, this could have two positive effects – first, when a compliment came, it would be more likely to be believed and, second, it would fit in rather more accurately with the picture of reality that the child is forming in their heads.

A lot of pressure is put on children who are told they are beautiful, special and perfect. Because then, where is there to go? Only downwards. They become hyperaware of their status in your eyes, and a danger must be that they fear failing you. To be overpraised by your parents is the counter side of being criticised all the time. Both can have negative consequences.

It is important to give your children the liberty to be flawed – to know that it’s OK to be imperfect, and that, in fact, we often love people for their flaws – perfect people (whom we can only imagine, as they do not exist) are easy to respect, but hard to love.

Now I am nearly 60, my main insight is that I am much less special than I once believed. This knowledge has actually been helpful in leading a more well-balanced life. I’d call it humility, if it weren’t very un-humble to attribute myself with the quality.

I certainly wouldn’t like to go back to attitudes that my parents, particularly my father, held, that to praise the child was to “spoil them” or make them bigheaded. However, the history of families is like the history of everything else – the story of overreactions. We praise our children to the skies, partly because we think it makes them feel good, but also because it makes us feel good. And perhaps it is more the latter than the former.

Having said all this, I am a terrible overpraiser, because I adore my children. I’m sure they have learned to take everything with a pinch of salt, but excessive love can be as big a burden as a shortage of it. My advice, at least to myself, is to ration not splurge. Then every compliment will count, rather than amounting to little more than a vaguely pleasing – but finally inauthentic – background Muzak, so persistent it isn’t even noticed.

@timlottwriter

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The Guardian view on zero-hours: the number that keeps getting bigger

Well for me  in my particular circumstances I can see that some zero hours contracts might work.  However for most folk they are not a good thing  and should not be used to replace more secure working arrangements.

Powered by Guardian.co.ukThis article titled “The Guardian view on zero-hours: the number that keeps getting bigger” was written by Editorial, for The Guardian on Wednesday 25th February 2015 20.07 UTC

Let’s not be sour. The bounceback in jobs during the current recovery has been staggering – exceeding all predictions. During the depths of the slump too, although things were dreadful, the UK shed far fewer posts than any of the macroeconomic models suggested. Whereas in the past there had been something close to a one-for-one proportional relation between lost jobs and lost output, for every three percentage points of GDP that disappeared after 2008, only 1% of jobs went up in smoke.

But let’s not be blinkered either. If there is reason to be cheerful in the quantity of jobs in a famously flexible labour market, there is reason to be fearful when it comes to the quality. Underemployment, perma-temping and the recasting of low-grade staffers as “self-employed” hires shorn of all rights were striking features of working life in the recession, and all trends that have been stubbornly slow to reverse in the recovery. That much is reaffirmed every month when the official labour market statistics appear. Nothing, however, sums up the pall of insecurity that has befallen so much of the workforce like zero-hours contracts. We can’t map the numbers over long years in this case, because – until recently – the arrangement was still so exotic that no proper figures were collated. Slowly but surely, however, the information gap is being filled and, in every new droplet of data, zero emerges as the number that keeps getting bigger.

At the dawn of the slump it was estimated that there were fewer than 200,000 “jobs” without guaranteed hours. Since then much has changed – the term “zero hours” has gained currency, definitions have changed, and new data sources have been tapped to tally up the individual workers affected, recognising that some will rely on multiple jobs. But through all the refinements and seasonal blips that might colour the figures, there has been only one trend. The Office for National Statistics reported on Wednesday that there were 1.8m zero-hour contracts, and 697,000 zero-hours workers, both numbers that have been climbing fast.

Not every no-strings contract represents exploitation, it’s true, but too many do. While there are a few professionals happy to put in a well-paid hour on an as-and-when-needed basis, the ONS confirmed that the real zero-hours boom is in pubs, hotels and restaurants, sectors where low pay is rampant. While some big zero-hours groups, such as students, may be content to avoid fixed weekly commitments, it is dismaying to learn that it is mostly women who are working with zero security. A sharp rise in zero-hours workers of two to five years’ standing confirms that this way of doing business is becoming not only more widespread but also more entrenched.

After much delay, the coalition talks about banning the most abusive contracts, which actually bar staff from seeking employment with anyone else while they hang around waiting for shifts that may not come their way. It may be a start, but it’s not enough. At the very least, zero-hours workers must be given – as Labour proposes – a right to demand steady hours after six months.

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