The Truth Behind The Fall Of The UK - Rory Stewart
Table of contents
- After 20 years and $1.5 trillion spent, the West handed Afghanistan back to the Taliban, highlighting a monumental failure that has shaken faith in liberal democracies and fueled the rise of populism.
- Trust in leadership is crumbling as the chaos of incompetence and failure becomes undeniable, pushing people towards populism and false certainties.
- Politics has become a game of promotion over performance, where genuine ideas are drowned out by gossip and scandal.
- Politics today is all about marketing, not merit. We need to demand accountability and substance from our leaders instead of getting lost in the noise.
- The UK is facing a crisis of identity and communication, revealing deep societal divides and a failure of leadership in times of turmoil.
- The wealth gap between thriving cities and struggling regions reveals a deeper crisis of opportunity and discontent that can't be fixed with quick solutions.
- Real change isn't about quick fixes; it's about addressing the million raindrops of systemic issues that keep communities struggling.
- We often become our own captors, trapped by outdated beliefs and systems, while the real issues remain unaddressed.
- Immigration is a complex issue that requires honest discussion and practical solutions, not just idealistic views on open borders.
- Free speech is a double-edged sword; while it empowers voices, it also demands accountability for the chaos it can unleash.
- Social media thrives on outrage and simplicity, leaving nuanced discussions in the dust.
- The story we've been telling about poverty disappearing is a myth; in reality, extreme poverty is on the rise, but giving cash directly empowers people to transform their lives in ways we can't even imagine.
- Empower communities by giving them cash, not complicated plans; they know what they need better than anyone else.
- In international development, the fear of failure leads to wasted resources, leaving communities with nothing but empty promises and a few plastic buckets.
- Direct cash transfers empower communities to lift themselves out of poverty, proving that trust and support can create real change.
- Cash is the simplest and most effective way to empower the extreme poor, allowing them to access resources and build their futures.
After 20 years and $1.5 trillion spent, the West handed Afghanistan back to the Taliban, highlighting a monumental failure that has shaken faith in liberal democracies and fueled the rise of populism.
You've just come back from Afghanistan. What is the atmosphere like now after the last few years since the Taliban took over? What's it actually like on the ground?
Well, I think the first thing is just that it's surreal. I was in Afghanistan first when the Taliban were in their last reign, which lasted from the late 1990s through to September the 11th. It was a time when it was one of the most shocking governments on Earth. There were public executions in the main stadiums, and Kabul, the capital city, was a ghost town. There were very few people living there, very few vehicles, and half the buildings were still in ruins from the Civil War. They were even hanging televisions from trees as part of their campaign against any kind of image.
Then we invaded Afghanistan, and I walked across the country just after the invasion, moving from the west to the east. I witnessed a country slowly emerging from the Taliban. The US and its allies then spent $1.5 trillion dollars—that's one and a half thousand billion dollars—in Afghanistan trying to build a nation and establish a democracy. After almost exactly 20 years, they pulled out, having invaded to get rid of the Taliban, only to hand the country back to them again.
Upon my return, I arrived at an airport that used to display large pictures of Hamid Karzai, the former US-backed president. Now, of course, there are no such pictures at all. You suddenly see everybody returning to wearing traditional dress; where there used to be many people in t-shirts and jeans, now you see them back in shaal kameez. There are very few women on the streets, and the government is basically run by religious leaders—by clerics and priests.
However, security is much better now. That's the thing that people don't talk about; it's much safer than it was for the past 20 years. I was able to travel up and down the country safely, which makes a huge difference to average Afghans. Tens of thousands of people were killed during this war—not just by the Taliban but also by US troops, British troops, and Afghan troops. If you were in the front lines down in southern Afghanistan, it was a horror show; your relatives were getting killed all the time by either side. Now, it is peaceful, and that shouldn't be underestimated. Many Afghans will say, "Okay, we don't like the way the Taliban are behaving; we don't like the way they're treating women; we feel a real absence of freedom." But my goodness, we're grateful that we're not liable to be killed at any moment.
It's so interesting to think that after 20 years, all of that money, all of that effort, lives, time, and resources that could have been spent on other things have come back. It's like The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho; he could have just come back and dug in the yard outside of where he first started. Exactly like that, it's mind-blowing. If you're looking for a symbol of how the West got overconfident and how it went wrong, Iraq and Afghanistan are prime examples where we spent over $3 trillion—$3,000 billion—and achieved close to nothing. These were failures beyond imagining. You can't think of a bigger failure than to invade a country, get rid of the Taliban, spend 20 years there, and then hand it back to the Taliban again. It's just definitional failure.
What's going to happen in the future? If you try to understand one of the reasons why people have partly lost faith in liberal democracies and why populism is on the rise, that story is an important part of that narrative. It represents a real humiliation of the elites, the governments, and our militaries, as well as what we were telling our publics. I would say especially in the last five years, but certainly over the last 10 to 20 years, there has been a very inescapable regular face-planting of people who should be knowledgeable and in power—individuals who you would expect to inspire a sense of trust and faith. It's just been a consistent disappointment from mainstream media, government officials, and individuals.
Trust in leadership is crumbling as the chaos of incompetence and failure becomes undeniable, pushing people towards populism and false certainties.
In discussing the definitional failure of liberal democracies, it is essential to consider the reasons behind the rise of populism. This narrative is a crucial aspect of understanding why many have lost faith in these systems. The last decade, particularly the last five years, has been marked by a humiliation of the elites, including governments and militaries, which has significantly impacted public trust. There has been a consistent pattern of face planting by those in power—individuals and organizations that should be knowledgeable and trustworthy, such as mainstream media, government officials, and institutions like the NIH, CDC, and WHO.
This situation presents an odd configuration of individual uselessness and systemic incompetence, repeatedly demonstrated over time. Consequently, we find ourselves questioning the rise of populism and why people are increasingly turning to certainty as a proxy for expertise rather than relying on actual expertise. In a chaotic world where trust is hard to find, the allure of someone who claims to have the answers can be seductive. It offers a sense of relief, as if finally, someone can clarify the complexities of our situation, especially after significant failures in places like Afghanistan and Iraq.
However, there is an inherent skepticism among the public. We are aware that individuals who promise to "sort it all out" are often bullshitting us. This realization poses a challenge, as I have experienced firsthand during my ten years as a politician. I recently authored a book titled How Not to Be a Politician, which aims to explain why politics often fails. A significant part of this understanding lies in recognizing that we do not perceive politicians in the same light as we do our family members or business associates.
For instance, if you were running a small family pizza restaurant and your manager claimed, "I don't know anything about pizzas, but I've got this," you would likely become frustrated and question their competence. Politicians often remind me of unreliable uncles—figures who float in and out of our lives, often burdened by chaotic personal circumstances, yet they confidently hold forth at family gatherings.
In a recent episode, I had Dominic Cummings on the show, who provided a less-than-flattering assessment of the competence within government. He referenced the Peter Principle, which suggests that individuals are promoted to their level of incompetence and then remain there. This principle explains why many who ascend to positions of power ultimately struggle in their roles.
We often consume political narratives through dramatizations like The Thick of It or Veep, which may reflect reality more accurately than traditional news outlets. This leads to the question of why government does not attract more competent, upwardly mobile, aggressive go-getters. Is this a systemic issue, or is it related to the pool of candidates?
I believe there are two primary factors at play. First, the quality of the job itself is a significant deterrent. Politics is often viewed as an extremely unpleasant, poorly paid job, where public figures face constant abuse on social media, endure long hours, and deal with widespread public anger. This environment is inherently demotivating, leading many to shy away from pursuing a career in politics.
Politics has become a game of promotion over performance, where genuine ideas are drowned out by gossip and scandal.
The discussion begins with a question about why government is not attracting more competent, upwardly mobile, aggressive go-getting people. The speaker identifies two main issues contributing to this phenomenon. First, they describe the quality of the job as being quite poor. It is characterized as an "extremely unpleasant, poorly paid job" where public politicians face constant abuse on social media, work very long hours, and deal with a perpetually angry public. This environment is demotivating, leading many potential candidates to shy away from pursuing a career in politics.
The second issue highlighted is the culture within politics, which the speaker describes as "all screwed up." They liken the experience of entering politics to being a bright young teacher joining a completely dysfunctional, failing school with a chaotic head teacher and disengaged colleagues. Similarly, they compare it to a keen young police officer joining a corrupt police department. The speaker reflects on their own experience, noting that many of their peers who entered politics with them were impressive individuals in their previous careers—successful business leaders, decorated military officers, and accomplished doctors. However, once they entered the political arena, they found it to be a demoralizing, horrible environment filled with cynicism.
The speaker emphasizes that nobody cares about serious discussions regarding policy. Instead, the culture is focused on gossip and personal rivalries, with conversations revolving around scandals, opinion polls, and promotions rather than substantive issues like child tax credits or national policies. They argue that if someone attempts to engage in earnest dialogue about policy, they are often dismissed as boring or a loser, missing the point of the political game, which is more about personal advancement than genuine governance.
The speaker critiques the current political landscape, suggesting that it is worse than many perceive. They reference the example of Liz Truss, who served as Prime Minister in the UK for only 44 days, highlighting her unbelievable incompetence even in junior roles. They argue that promotions within politics are not based on performance or achievements but rather on a lack of scrutiny regarding politicians' capabilities.
In drawing a parallel to the United States, the speaker points out that political battles, such as those between Kamala Harris and Donald Trump, often lack a thorough analysis of their actual performance in office. Instead, the focus remains on marketing and public perception rather than substantive policy discussions. This reflects a broader trend where, unlike in other areas of life—such as investing in a company—there is little emphasis on evaluating the performance and effectiveness of politicians. Ultimately, the speaker concludes that the political environment is dominated by marketing, overshadowing the importance of genuine policy evaluation and accountability.
Politics today is all about marketing, not merit. We need to demand accountability and substance from our leaders instead of getting lost in the noise.
In the US, if you think about the fight between Kamala Harris and Donald Trump, very little of it is actually about analyzing what they did in office. For instance, Kamala Harris is doing well at the moment, but nobody has kind of forensically scrutinized what she actually did as vice president, particularly regarding immigration policy and the border. Similarly, nobody supporting Donald Trump is looking in detail into the policies he implemented. This situation is quite strange; it’s not like normal aspects of life where, for example, if you're investing in a company, you would look at their performance and products. However, with politicians, it’s all about marketing with nothing substantial behind it.
This allergy to earnestness—of taking things seriously and doing the job that you're supposed to be there to do—really scares me. I tend to categorize people into either earnest or not earnest, serious or not serious. This doesn’t mean that serious people can’t have fun too, but they take the things they’re supposed to seriously, and that’s very concerning. The reason it’s even more alarming is that it reflects a sort of bottom-up emergent milieu, this soup that politicians are swimming through. What intervention could possibly change that? If you take one person out and put a good one back in, they immediately become spoiled. Even if you take three of them out and replace them, they too will quickly become spoiled.
There’s a striking statistic that one of my friends, George, found: the head of UK cyber security had a job posted online with an annual salary of £65,000 to combat threats from the CCP, Russia, Iran, hackers, and the dark web. It’s astonishing that such a critical position is offered such a low salary.
The reason I enjoyed writing my book, but also why my colleagues have been quite angry with me, is that I’m trying to describe the political environment from the inside, akin to how one might describe working in a police station. I aim to convey how people talk to each other, their sense of humor, their clothing, and the overall atmosphere—like the stale coffee smell mixed with aftershave among conservatives. There’s a certain shoddiness to it all. I also touch on the states, as I think it’s significant. When American politicians have read the book, they recognized the issues I described. It surprised me; I thought maybe I was only revealing something unique to Britain, but they responded with, “Oh wow, yes.” In some ways, their situation seems even worse, as they spend four and a half hours every day making fundraising calls, leaving them with no time to think about politics. They are just focused on bringing in money all the time.
I haven’t been back to the UK since Christmas this year; it’s the longest time I’ve ever been away. The scenes and stories emerging from the UK are quite troubling. I feel it’s an embarrassing time to be a British person. Regardless of political affiliation, I don’t think anyone is particularly happy with how things have been handled or the narratives circulating—whether it’s protests, anti-protest protests, or the police arresting people for their online statements. It genuinely feels like end of days stuff at the moment.
What is the atmosphere in the UK like right now? To return to the fundamental story that initiated this discussion, there was a horrible atrocity where a 17-year-old boy entered a group of young girls and killed three of them with a knife. Immediately, a narrative emerged that he was a Syrian Muslim who had just arrived illegally by boat within the last year. This led to people attempting to burn down a mosque. This reaction is reminiscent of the Middle Ages, where similar scapegoating occurred; for instance, when something tragic happened, people would blame the Jews, as seen in York during the early Middle Ages, saying, “A baby’s been killed; let’s go burn down the synagogue.”
The UK is facing a crisis of identity and communication, revealing deep societal divides and a failure of leadership in times of turmoil.
At the moment, the atmosphere in the UK is quite tense and complex. To understand this situation, we must revisit the fundamental story that initiated recent events. There was a horrible atrocity where a 17-year-old boy attacked a group of young girls, resulting in the death of three of them with a knife. Initially, reports circulated that he was a Syrian Muslim who had arrived illegally by boat within the last year. This misinformation sparked outrage, leading some individuals to attempt to burn down a mosque. This reaction is reminiscent of the Middle Ages, where similar scapegoating occurred; for instance, when a baby was killed, the Jewish community was blamed, resulting in violence against them.
However, it was later revealed that the 17-year-old perpetrator was, in fact, a Christian born in the United Kingdom, which means that the incident had absolutely nothing to do with Muslims or recent immigrants. This revelation highlights a disturbing trend in the way the British public is reacting and thinking. It is surprising that such events are occurring in Britain, a country that has not experienced major rioting since 2011. For 13 years, the police have lacked experience in managing significant civil unrest, which contributed to their inadequate response during the recent events, resulting in 50 officers ending up in hospital.
The role of social media cannot be overlooked in this context. For instance, Elon Musk inadvertently contributed to the chaos by retweeting a deep fake claiming that the British Prime Minister was going to deport individuals to the Falkland Islands as punishment for their actions. This tweet garnered 1.3 million likes before Musk removed it without any apology, further complicating the situation.
The combination of hatred towards Muslims, the tragic incident, genuine concerns about immigration, police management issues, and the challenges posed by social media has created a terrifying situation. Additionally, I believe the British Prime Minister has not been effective enough in addressing the public's concerns. His early communication efforts seemed a bit wooden and lacked the direct relatability needed to calm the populace. During such crises, it is crucial for leaders to be present on the ground, demonstrating their commitment and ability to communicate effectively.
Interestingly, my time away from the UK has provided me with a deeper understanding of the country. I have learned that while the UK is perceived as a very advanced and wealthy country, it is essential to recognize that London is often viewed as the sixth largest economy in the world, while the rest of the country may not share the same prosperity. When discussing issues in places like Middlesbrough, Carlisle, or Rochdale, it seems that these concerns are not prioritized in conversations held in Westminster or Whitehall. This disconnect may be contributing to the kindling of discontent among those living outside the M25, highlighting the challenges faced by communities that feel overlooked.
The wealth gap between thriving cities and struggling regions reveals a deeper crisis of opportunity and discontent that can't be fixed with quick solutions.
The UK might be the sixth largest economy in the world, but when you actually look at it, it's not the sixth largest economy in the world. London is the sixth largest economy in the world, and we have a very rich city inside of a pretty poor country. I’m going to guess that when you’re walking through Whitehall or having a chat in Westminster, the issues of Middlesbrough, Carlisle, or Rochdale probably aren’t top of anybody’s agenda. I wonder how much the kindling for everybody has been lit because, if you’re outside of the M25, it’s a big problem.
I mean, I was a member of parliament for a Northern constituency near Carlisle, up on the Scottish border, and 350 miles away from London, it’s a different universe. People are living on much lower incomes and a very different life. But it’s even more extreme if you get to these areas that you’re talking about, the Northeast, which are ex-mining communities that have lost their mines, ex-industrial areas that have lost their factories. Areas that, really since the 1980s, have had serious problems with unemployment and other issues that have gone along with them too.
There’s a place called Easington that I was in recently, and it really is a place where there have been serious issues around substance abuse, unemployment, etc. You can see it in the housing. It’s not unique to the UK; you can see this in West Virginia, Tennessee, bits of Ohio, and even in parts of France. Just an hour north of Paris, you can find some pretty bleak communities. The problem with these big, huge, mature democracies is that when we look at their economies, we forget the fact that there are huge inequalities.
In the UK, there’s a significant disparity between London and the Southeast and the Northeast of England. Similarly, in the US, there’s a stark contrast between Flint, Michigan, which is pretty poor, and Massachusetts, where I am talking from, which is pretty wealthy. Getting on top of these issues is incredibly important. Of course, the communities living out there are one of the things that drove Brexit; it’s one of the core reasons behind a lot of the Trump vote.
White, more working-class, less educated communities with fewer economic opportunities in areas that are doing much less well than they were two or three generations ago feel that democracy is not delivering for them. They feel that all this fantasy stuff they hear about, all the promises that were made, and everything they see on screens makes their country feel unrecognizable.
How cognizant do you think the people are in those areas? I grew up in Stockton-on-Tees, which is in Teesside. I spent 18 years there, and I was in full-time education for about 13 of those years—State primary, State secondary, State sixth form—and then went to Newcastle University. I recognized during the videos of the Middlesbrough riots that it was really activating for me; it took me back to being in school.
There’s this very unique category of behavior that I call working-class rage, which is just like an ambient discontent. However, it’s not directed with a clear lineage. You know, the string isn’t drawn from the politicians promising us this and we haven’t had any after-school clubs, and the park hasn’t been cleaned in so long. With the benefit of perspective, you can look at these groups and say this is because we need more initiatives for such and such, whatever it might be. But when you actually get there on the ground, it’s just angry, dissatisfied people who don’t have many opportunities.
It’s this odd feeling—like being rained on and you’re wet, and you go, “Where’s the wet come from?” You think, “I don’t know,” as if it’s a million individual raindrops, none of which I can actually distinguish. Do you understand what I mean?
Yes, I totally do. What you’ve described is something that we should be more honest and open about because it doesn’t have easy, instant solutions. If it were just that the local park needed cleaning up, you could clean up the local park. But if what you’re talking about is really ambient rain—a million raindrops—that is much more difficult for people to address and turn around. Let’s look at the most pressing issues.
Real change isn't about quick fixes; it's about addressing the million raindrops of systemic issues that keep communities struggling.
It's this odd sensation; it's like being rained on. You find yourself wet and wonder, "Where's the wet come from?" You go, "I don't know," as if it's a million individual raindrops, none of which you can actually distinguish. Do you understand what I mean?
Yes, I totally do. What you've described is something that we should be more honest and open about. It doesn't have easy instant solutions. It's a real problem that, if it were just that the local park needed cleaning up, you could clean up the local park. However, if what you're talking about is really an ambient rain—a million raindrops—that is much more difficult for people to address and turn around.
Let's look at the most extreme examples. I don't know whether you have visited some of the poor and Native American communities, but if you look at the Lakota community in South Dakota or Aboriginal communities in Australia, you see communities that are very marginalized and vulnerable. They have very high instances of substance abuse, huge instances of unemployment, and a lot of governments occasionally trying to help.
It's not that there aren't initiatives or well-meaning people; there are indeed people and money going in. But, as you say, it's a million raindrops. Sometimes, you get the sense that particular communities are going through something that feels like a trauma, which isn't fixable just by doing up the school or cleaning up the park.
Afghans, I guess, are not a million miles away from this. I was in Afghanistan visiting a charity that my wife and I set up 20 years ago now. We work with some of the poorest people in Afghanistan. Initially, we worked in a very deprived area in the center of the old city of Kabul. We restored people's buildings, built a clinic, built a primary school, and supported traditional craftspeople by exporting their crafts abroad.
I'm very proud of what we've achieved. I believe we have made a real difference in people's lives; their life expectancy has increased, they have clean water, electricity, and jobs they can be proud of. However, I'd be lying if I didn't acknowledge that there are so many things they are still angry about, and they have every reason to be angry. They are living in an unbelievably difficult situation.
Of course, we live in a world where it's very easy to be aware of how other people are living. You can be in the back end of the Democratic Republic of the Congo and be watching TV, seeing what's happening in California or Japan, and feel disconnected from it all.
What I'm getting at is that it's very difficult for politicians to deal with this. The public often sounds as though they want someone to say, "I've got this; these are the two things I'm going to do." For example, they might say, "The situation in Stockton is a disgrace, and the answer is education, education, education," or "The situation in Stockton is a disgrace; the answer is jobs. I'm going to create jobs." They might also say, "It's about infrastructure; we need to get the road and rail infrastructure going," or "We need to create affordable housing."
However, delivering these solutions in our societies turns out to be unbelievably difficult. There are legal barriers, bureaucratic barriers, and financial barriers. Getting anything done is a challenge. That's why politicians often feel freshest and most convincing when they're either lying to themselves or lying to the public.
I feel this sort of odd symmetry between what's happening inside of Westminster and what's happening in these working-class communities. You have a combination of top-down and bottom-up approaches, with incentives and restrictions creating a kind of environment. This environment is then taken and run with by the participants, the people inside of it. The same thing seems to be happening both ways. I know this from experience.
We often become our own captors, trapped by outdated beliefs and systems, while the real issues remain unaddressed.
In discussing the various barriers to progress, we encounter legal barriers, bureaucratic barriers, and financial barriers. These obstacles make it incredibly challenging to get anything done. Consequently, politicians often feel most convincing when they are either lying to themselves or lying to the public.
There seems to be a peculiar symmetry between what is occurring inside Westminster and what is happening in working-class communities. This situation is characterized by a combination of top-down and bottom-up influences, where incentives and restrictions create an environment that participants begin to navigate on their own. From my experience of living there for 18 years, I have observed that people do not point to individual instances of these issues, much like politicians do not vocally oppose the actual restrictions they face. It's akin to a crab breaking out of its shell; the problem does not lie there. Instead, they have become their own hostage-taker, exhibiting a sort of Stockholm syndrome for a captor that is no longer present.
I believe that many of us, whether we are talking about communities in Stockton, politicians, individuals in large corporations, or stressed doctors in hospitals, have developed a form of Stockholm Syndrome from a hostage-taker that is no longer there. There is a beautiful phrase from the English poet William Blake, who speaks of mind-forged manacles. As humans, we often surround ourselves with constraints; we are incredibly tribal, conventional, and conformist. We attempt to read and follow rules that ultimately make no sense, shaped by cultures that lead us to engage in bizarre behaviors.
For instance, consider the 500 people who attempted to burn down a library in Britain last week. If you were to ask them why they were doing it, many might struggle to provide a coherent answer. They might joke about it or cite various reasons: one might say it’s about taking back control of our lives, another might express frustration with the police, a third might mention concerns about too much immigration, and a fourth might simply say they thought it would be fun to join in as a teenager. However, none of these responses fully encapsulate the motivations behind their actions. We often lack a deep understanding of ourselves; I certainly do not fully understand myself, and crowds, in particular, tend to lack self-awareness.
Earlier, you mentioned the tendency for individuals to believe in a single policy solution—the idea that their particular focus is the key to solving problems. This myopia is common; everyone believes that their area of expertise is the most critical. For example, in California, many wealthy individuals assert that technology will solve all the world's problems. Similarly, a football player might insist that sport is the answer.
Currently, a significant amount of blame is being placed on immigration, which has become a hot topic in the UK. From my perspective, what are the major issues that need to be addressed in the UK in the coming years? Immigration is indeed one of them. It is not just a problem in the UK; it is a challenge faced by countries across Europe, including France and Germany, as well as in the US. For instance, during the recent Trump-Musk interview, much of the discussion centered around immigration, highlighting its importance to voters.
Politicians who deny the significance of immigration are making a grave mistake. Having control over your borders is a perfectly legitimate concern and should not be a source of embarrassment. Our societies, which are wealthy and have extensive welfare states, cannot function effectively with open borders. This reality is crucial to acknowledge as we navigate these complex issues.
Immigration is a complex issue that requires honest discussion and practical solutions, not just idealistic views on open borders.
The UK over the coming years will face several challenges, one of which is immigration. This issue is not isolated to the UK; it is a problem in France, Germany, and across Europe, as well as in the US. For instance, the recent Trump-Musk interview highlighted that most of the discussion revolved around immigration, which is a significant concern for voters. Politicians who deny this reality are acting foolishly. Having control of your borders is a perfectly legitimate stance and should not be a source of embarrassment. Our societies, which are wealthy and have extensive welfare states, cannot function effectively with open borders. It is a form of self-deception to believe that being a good person equates to advocating for open borders.
In Britain, much of the anger surrounding immigration stems from people crossing on boats from France. It is essential to acknowledge that France is a safe country; individuals are not risking their lives by crossing the Channel to reach the UK. They are not fleeing persecution or imminent danger. However, this does not mean that we should neglect those who genuinely face threats, such as female judges in Taliban Afghanistan. We can and should help those in real danger, but we must also establish a reasonable target for immigration—perhaps 0.5% of our population per year, equating to around 30,000 to 40,000 people annually. The UK could potentially accommodate 150,000 individuals who are genuinely suffering, and it is crucial for wealthy countries to share the burden and agree on how many refugees they will accept. This approach could significantly address the problem over the next 5 to 10 years.
The discussion about immigration is distinct from how we want to manage our economy. The demographic challenge in Britain is significant; when the welfare state was established by Lloyd George, there was one retired person for every 20 working individuals. Now, that ratio has changed dramatically to one retired person for every three working people. Over the past two years, we have legally brought in 1.5 million people to the UK, primarily because our hospitals, care sectors, and farms cannot function without adequate labor. This situation has arisen partly due to leaving the European Union, which cut off the supply of young Europeans who previously filled these roles and often returned to their home countries.
Now, if you are running a restaurant in London, you can no longer rely on young Spanish or French workers to chop vegetables; instead, you must recruit someone from Nigeria, Bangladesh, or Pakistan specifically for that job. This issue is compounded by the birth rate problem. Raising a family has become exceedingly expensive, and while governments can provide some financial assistance, such as $1,500 a year in tax credits, this amount is insufficient to alleviate the financial burden of raising children.
Regarding the recent discussions about digital hate and the EU's push for criminal prosecution against Elon Musk for his statements on Twitter, this topic raises significant concerns. The free speech debate is particularly prominent in the US and influences conversations worldwide. However, not every country has the same protections, leading to worries about fake news, deep fakes, and the potential for self-censorship among individuals who fear repercussions for their online expressions. The call for prosecution against Musk reflects broader tensions in how societies balance free speech with the need to address harmful content online.
Free speech is a double-edged sword; while it empowers voices, it also demands accountability for the chaos it can unleash.
In recent discussions, there has been talk about the EU and some government bodies pushing for Elon Musk to face criminal prosecution for certain statements he made on Twitter. This raises questions about the implications of free speech, especially considering that America's approach to free speech often influences global conversations. However, not every country shares the same protections, leading to concerns about fake news, deep fakes, and self-censorship.
The situation highlights that the laws being applied are not new; they have existed for decades. For instance, it has always been a criminal offense to incite violence, such as encouraging people to burn down a mosque, long before the advent of social media. If someone were to send letters inciting a mob to commit a criminal act, that would also be considered criminal behavior. Recently, someone was imprisoned for telling people to burn down an asylum hostel and providing advice on how to do it, which underscores that the medium—whether Twitter or traditional mail—does not change the nature of the crime.
The more challenging issue lies in disinformation. While it is alarming when false claims are made, such as a woman incorrectly accusing a Muslim of wrongdoing, prosecuting her is complicated. She may have simply misunderstood the situation, and there is a lack of legal precedent for imprisoning individuals for spreading false stories. This area is likely to become a flash point in ongoing discussions about accountability and regulation.
Elon Musk's approach adds another layer to this debate. Historically, companies like Twitter and Facebook have cooperated with regulators to address harmful content online. They would engage in reasonable conversations and take down problematic material. However, Musk seems to be spoiling for a fight, pushing the limits of what is acceptable and showing reluctance to remove content. He perceives any form of compromise or censorship as problematic, which raises significant questions about the responsibilities of platforms that refuse to cooperate.
Theoretically, regulators could impose fines, shut down platforms, or hold them criminally liable. For instance, if a newspaper editor encourages violence, they can be held accountable. The question arises: can we trace similar accountability back to Musk? His defense is that he operates a neutral platform, claiming he is not an editor but merely providing a space for expression. However, this perspective is misleading, as the algorithms used by these platforms actively shape content visibility and engagement.
These algorithms are not neutral; they consistently make decisions that influence public discourse. For example, prior to the November election, Facebook promoted trusted news sources, but post-election, the platform shifted its focus to more inflammatory content to drive engagement and revenue. This change can be directly linked to the events surrounding January 6th, illustrating how platform algorithms can significantly impact politics.
In conclusion, the interplay between free speech, disinformation, and platform responsibility is complex and evolving. As discussions continue, it will be crucial to consider the implications of these dynamics on society and governance.
Social media thrives on outrage and simplicity, leaving nuanced discussions in the dust.
In discussing the influence of social media on public discourse, it is evident that these platforms are not neutral. Their algorithms make decisions constantly, and how they decide to arrange content and what they choose to favor has a huge impact on our politics. A notable example of this can be seen in the events surrounding January 6th, where great work by two New York Times journalists highlighted the role of Facebook in promoting trusted news sources leading up to the November election. However, after the election, Facebook became frustrated with the lack of profitability from this approach. They realized that they could generate more revenue by encouraging the sharing of more inflammatory content within like-minded user groups. Consequently, they removed those constraints, which can be directly linked to the events that transpired on January 6th.
Interestingly, most people's views in the real world tend to follow a bell curve, where the majority converge toward the middle, with only a few extreme positions on either side. However, the situation on the Internet is quite different. If you were to visualize this, you would find that while the real world presents a bell curve, the online environment resembles a U-shape. This shift is largely due to the incentives that reward the most inflammatory language and the most simplistic takes. Nuance, which often fails to capture attention, is not "sexy," "memeable," or "sticky."
For instance, if I post something trivial, like a joke about Elon Musk, I might receive 17,000 to 20,000 likes, but if I share a serious message about addressing extreme poverty in Africa, I might only get about 100 likes. This stark contrast illustrates how the online landscape prioritizes sensationalism over substantive discussion. It can be quite disheartening to see that a serious article, which I care about deeply, garners a mere 10,000 to 15,000 views, while a trivial joke can reach four to five million people.
A friend of mine once shared a profound insight about the dilemma of tweeting: you are aware of exceptions and conditions to your statements but cannot include them without turning an elegant aphorism into a clunky mess. This forces you to choose between writing "tinard garbage" or facing criticism from pedants in replies and quote tweets. This highlights the reality that much of the attention online stems from stirring up antagonism. For example, my criticisms of Elon Musk may generate significant responses, not necessarily because everyone agrees with me, but because the outrage from his supporters drives up engagement.
Shifting the focus to the issue of extreme poverty, we must consider the global perspective. While we often discuss inequality within our own countries, such as comparing Appalachia to Washington DC or Stockton to Chelsea, the situation becomes even more dire when viewed globally. Since the 1980s, we have been led to believe that extreme poverty was diminishing, but this narrative is misleading. In sub-Saharan Africa, the number of people living in extreme poverty has actually increased. In 1980, there were 170 million people living in extreme poverty in Africa; today, that number has surged to about 450 million. This reflects a tripling of the absolute number of people struggling to meet their basic needs.
When we refer to extreme poverty, we are talking about individuals who are struggling to feed themselves even once every two days. I have witnessed this firsthand on the Rwanda-Bundi border, where people live in mud huts with leaking roofs, no toilets, and certainly no electricity or water supply. The conditions are dire, and the children often appear malnourished and living in filthy environments. This stark reality underscores the urgent need for global awareness and action regarding extreme poverty.
The story we've been telling about poverty disappearing is a myth; in reality, extreme poverty is on the rise, but giving cash directly empowers people to transform their lives in ways we can't even imagine.
Since the 1980s, we've been telling ourselves a story that extreme poverty was somehow disappearing on its own, but that is definitely not true. Particularly in Sub-Saharan Africa, the situation has worsened. In 1980, there were 170 million people living in extreme poverty in Africa, and today, there are about 450 million living in extreme poverty in Sub-Saharan Africa. This means that the absolute number—not the proportion of people—has tripled.
When we refer to extreme poverty, we mean people who are struggling to feed themselves once every two days. These are the individuals I see on the Rwanda-Bundi border, living in a hut made of mud, sleeping on a mud floor with a leaking roof, and lacking basic amenities such as a toilet, electricity, or water supply. Their children are often clothed in filthy rags, unable to access water and soap to wash themselves, and are excluded from school. A single day of illness can mean the difference between life and death, as it removes the potential earnings of just a dollar or two.
Today, hundreds of millions of people are living in such dire situations, and we have the opportunity to make an incredible difference in their lives. I have been working with a charity called Give Directly, which literally provides direct cash transfers. This approach may seem radical and surprising; many people imagine that recipients will waste the money, leading to negative outcomes. However, I can share a story about a woman on the Rwanda-Bundi border. Give Directly provided her with just under $1,000, the same amount given to every household in her very poor village. The changes observed after three months were unbelievable.
By getting out of the way and allowing people to manage their own resources, we see remarkable transformations. It’s not a charity worker coming in to do it for them; it’s simply giving them the cash and returning three months later. The results are striking: the percentage of households with electricity increased from about a third to nearly 80%, and three-quarters of the families ended up with a cow. Roofs were repaired, everyone had a latrine, school enrollment increased, and people began eating twice a day instead of once every two days.
From my perspective as a donor, giving $700 to that lady may seem like a lot of money, but it’s an amount that can be easily spent on a holiday. For her, however, it represents a total transformation in her life. It provides her with her first decent food, her first shelter, and her first latrine. It also gives her the opportunity to send her kids back to school. The impact of this money is literally worth a hundred times more to her than it is to us. In essence, when I give her $1,000, it feels like I am giving her $100,000, while it only costs me a fraction of that.
This brings us to the perspective of the saying, “Give a man a fish, and he’ll eat for a day; teach a man to fish, and he’ll be able to feed himself for a lifetime.” It’s a lovely phrase that suggests an instant solution: just teach someone to fish, and their problems are solved. This idea flatters us, as it implies that we possess the knowledge that others lack. However, what I have realized through cash transfers is that this notion does not hold true.
Why doesn’t it work? Firstly, in many cases, people already know how to fish; they just don’t have the money for a fishing hook. Many communities have business ideas ready to go; they simply need a bit of cash to buy a bicycle to transport their goods or invest in equipment to turn milk into yogurt. They already know how to fish; they just lack the necessary tools.
Secondly, every household is different. One person may want to open a yogurt business, while their neighbor may wish to send their child to school, and another may need funds for healthcare or home repairs. Cash allows individuals to address their unique needs and aspirations, enabling them to improve their circumstances in ways that are most meaningful to them.
Empower communities by giving them cash, not complicated plans; they know what they need better than anyone else.
As you provide a little bit of cash, they've all got the business ideas already; they just want to be able to buy a bicycle to get their stuff down the road to sell it. They just want to be able to invest a tiny bit of equipment that helps them turn milk into yogurt. I mean, they know how to fish; they just don't have the equipment, right?
But the second thing which goes wrong with that idea is that every house is different. Right? So, you want to open a little yogurt business; your next-door neighbor wants to get their kid into school. The woman on the other side needs some money for health care, while the woman on the other side is trying to fix up a house. The woman on the other side is trying to do a business selling banana juice. In other words, cash allows you to do that. Cash falls like rain on a mountain landscape; it allows you to adjust to all these different things, house by house, individual by individual.
In that case, they don’t want to fish; they want to open a bakery. And then, I think the final thing is, of course, somebody in that community will put the money to use so much more efficiently. If it's their own money and they're fixing up their house, they do it for a fraction of the costs that a foreign charity would incur because they’d bring in their brother and their cousins and they’d use local materials. It’s a completely different world.
Until I’d heard you talk about this, I’d always assumed that, again, my undue faith in authority and the people that are supposed to know what they’re doing, was the way to do charity. Well, you know, what about expertise and understanding the best ways to operationalize this? They don’t have a Gantt chart; they’ve not got a nice Gantt chart that’ll explain to them what needs to happen first, and then after we’ve done that, we can dig the well, and so on and so forth. But I realized it’s probably kind of a racist view to think that, “Oh, we know. Don’t worry, the people in charge will fly in on an air-conditioned plane, they’ll land, and they’ll know how to fix somebody else’s community better than they can.”
It’s this sort of oddly self-aggrandizing, very solipsistic perspective that says, “I know. Don’t worry, poor brown people, we are here to tell you exactly how you should spend your time and how you should run your community.” Two things there: one of them is the massive vanity. I found this when I had a businessman in London saying to me, “No, I don’t want to give cash to these people; I want to share my knowledge and my business experience.” And I’m like, “What the f do you know about living in a small village in Malawi? You sell sandwiches to Heathrow Airport. What are you going to do?”
The second thing is just how much money we waste on all those things—on our strategic plans, our Gantt charts, our consultants, our training programs. I saw this when I was responsible for the entire British development budget. I was the Secretary of State for International Development, and I had a budget of $20 billion a year—$20,000 million a year to spend. I turned up in one of our projects in Zambia, and it was exactly as you say. We’d come up with this brilliant idea that the reason why girls were not going to school was that there wasn’t good sanitation in schools when they were having their monthly period. So, if we could produce good sanitation facilities, they’d spend another seven years in school.
We allocated $40,000 per school. I turn up at the school, and I’m like, “Okay, what’s happening here?” There’s a row of well Land Cruisers, and there are all these foreign consultants and engineers coming out, showing me their strategic plans and their logical frameworks and their consultation mechanisms. I say, “Well, can you show me what we’ve actually produced in the school for $40,000?” They walk me to the end of the school playground, and there are two holes in the ground with a little brick wall around them and five red plastic buckets. I’m like, “What the what is this?” Literally, the cost of that is, I don’t know, $1,500 maximum; the bucket’s $5. What is this? They say, “Well, we did all these plans and investigations, and we decided the most sustainable way to do this is to make the girls take the buckets to the well 300 yards away, and then they fill the buckets with water and then they come wash themselves.”
I’m like, “What are you doing? This is a $440,000 project! Why didn’t you just give $2,000 to the head teacher?”
In international development, the fear of failure leads to wasted resources, leaving communities with nothing but empty promises and a few plastic buckets.
I found myself questioning the outcomes of a significant investment in a school project. I asked, "Can you show me what we've actually produced in the school for $40,000?" They led me to the end of the school playground, where I was confronted with two holes in the ground surrounded by a little brick wall and five red plastic buckets. My immediate reaction was one of disbelief; I thought, "What is this?" The cost of what I was seeing was, at most, $1,500. The buckets themselves were only $5 each.
When I inquired further, they explained that they had conducted extensive planning and investigation. They concluded that the most sustainable way to provide water was for the girls to carry the buckets 300 yards to the well, fill them with water, and then use them for washing. I was baffled, thinking, "What are you doing?" This was a $440,000 project. I suggested that they could have simply given $2,000 to the head teacher, which would have allowed them to support 20 times as many schools. Their response was that the head teacher might have stolen the money. I retorted, "We stole the money; we literally stole $38,000 out of $40,000 here."
The local community was aware of the situation and recognized that this $40,000 project had resulted in merely five red plastic buckets. They viewed us as criminals, which was terrifying. However, the individuals involved in the project did not perceive their actions as wrong. They were busy with monitoring and evaluation, anti-corruption mechanisms, strategic planning, and engineering design. Each level of the project seemed to leak money, with funds being wasted on unnecessary flights for consultants.
Despite this, those involved felt justified, receiving praise from their families for their service in places like Zambia. There exists an odd tension between the system they operate within and their intentions. I am sure that people working for charities and traveling to places like Rwanda or Zambia do not set out with the goal of wasting money.
The issue lies partly in our risk aversion. We are often unwilling to trust people, leading to excessive spending on follow-ups, financial checks, controls, and monitoring. A significant portion of the funding is wasted on visits to ensure that the buckets are still present. Rory Sutherland from Ogilvy once said, "Nobody gets fired for hiring Deloitte." His point was that people prefer to be wrong in a reliable manner than to take risks and potentially face consequences.
In the context of this project, while it is true that one head teacher might steal money, the reality is that I could have ended up with 19 schools with buckets instead of just one. In a typical business, risk-taking is allowed, and failure is part of the process. However, in international development and charities, we are so terrified of failure that we implement numerous mechanisms to prevent anything from going wrong, resulting in the waste of 80 to 90% of the money.
Returning to the statistics I mentioned earlier, I pondered how significant the overall increase in poverty reduction is. I often hear that relative poverty has decreased, and that climate-related deaths have dropped by 98% over the last 100 years. However, as the population increases, these numbers will inevitably rise. Balancing these scales mentally is challenging.
The fundamental answer lies in recognizing that much of the credit for the reduction in poverty is due to China, which alone lifted 780 million people out of extreme poverty. Adding India and Bangladesh, which are also populous countries, shows that Asia has made significant strides in poverty reduction. However, in sub-Saharan Africa, the percentage of the population living in extreme poverty has only slightly decreased from 40% in 1980 to about 37% today, despite the tripling of the population. This paints a complex picture of progress and ongoing challenges in the fight against poverty.
Direct cash transfers empower communities to lift themselves out of poverty, proving that trust and support can create real change.
Increases in poverty numbers are a pressing concern. How do we sort of think about balancing those scales mentally? You know, there are more people suffering, but proportionately, less. It was very difficult thinking about this. I mean, I think the fundamental answer is that when we were patting ourselves on the back and talking about the massive reduction in poverty, a lot of it was about China. China alone took 700 to 800 million people out of extreme poverty. If we add India and Bangladesh—these big populous countries in Asia—we see that they took a lot of people out of poverty as well. However, in Sub-Saharan Africa, in percentage terms, in 1980, maybe 40% of the population was in extreme poverty; today, maybe 37% of the population is in extreme poverty. Yet, it's tripled in absolute terms.
In a way, I'm less worried about proportions; what I'm worried about is that there are 300 million more people who can't put food on the table, and we can fix it. I mean, I think the point about direct cash transfers is that the most useful thing you can do is send cash. It's not about being a world genius who really knows about whatever; for example, I could be like, "I'm a real expert on podcasting, so I need to go and teach the people in this village how to podcast or how to sell sandwiches at Heathrow Airport." No, they know much better than we do. It's also about trust—it's about saying, "I trust you; I believe that you know much more about your own environment than I do."
If you think about it, consider a scenario in Appalachia or Stockton-on-Tees. Imagine the government saying, "Would you like us to turn up and spend $50,000 with a bunch of consultants telling you how to run your business, or would you like us to give you a check for $50,000 that you can invest in your business?" It's obvious which option is preferable.
I have two questions: First, what are the ways that giving directly can go wrong? What are the biggest vectors for weakness in it? Second, why is Sub-Saharan Africa still so poor? What has happened elsewhere that hasn't happened there?
To address how it can go wrong, it can obviously fail on an individual level; some people can waste the money. It's important to understand that there is fantastic data showing that, in general, on a group level, it's the most efficient and effective way of raising people out of poverty. In that village, there may be one or two people who don't take advantage of it, but the vast majority will. However, there can also be real challenges around corruption. You have to get your mechanisms right to ensure that the people distributing the money do so fairly and properly. We can use technology to improve checks around that; for example, in Africa, money is transferred directly to people's phones.
Getting that right involves monitoring in the right way and achieving a balance. You want to spend as little as possible on overheads, but you need some overheads to check that the funds are reaching their intended destinations. Another potential issue is when one village receives the money and another does not; this can create envy. However, that's in a sense a compliment to the program—the envy exists because people genuinely feel that the other villages have benefited.
As for why Africa, in general, has done much less well, that is the subject of huge books. People talk about governance, corruption, and the colonial legacies of Africa. They discuss how the continent has been exploited for its resources and the very poor economic management that has occurred. It's a combination of all those factors. However, in many cases, cash is very helpful. For instance, even in successful places like Rwanda, which has built many roads, clinics, and schools, cash allows the extreme poor to access those resources. It enables them to build businesses, get on those roads, and reach those clinics and schools. So even in the more successful cases, cash is a really good way of stimulating the economy and helping the extreme poor.
Cash is the simplest and most effective way to empower the extreme poor, allowing them to access resources and build their futures.
The subject of governance, corruption, and the colonial legacies of Africa is vast and has been explored in huge books. People discuss how Africa has been ripped off of its resources and the consequences of very bad economic management. It is a combination of these factors that contribute to the challenges faced by the continent. In many cases, cash is very helpful. For instance, in successful places like Rwanda, where significant infrastructure such as roads, clinics, and schools have been built, cash allows the extreme poor to access these resources. It enables them to build businesses, utilize the roads, and reach the clinics and schools. Thus, even in more successful cases, cash serves as a stimulus for the economy, helping the extreme poor engage with what has already been built.
When discussing the impact of the Sam Bankman-Fried effective altruism fallout on forward-thinking charity initiatives, it is important to note the contrasting approaches. Initiatives like Give Directly present a cool name and a sexy idea, focusing on a bottom-up approach. They provide the most robust resources to individuals, allowing them to choose how to spend it, in contrast to effective altruism (EA), which typically involves top-down analyses to determine the most efficient charities. Currently, there are about nine or ten charities that have received the EA community's endorsement for their efficiency. Despite the differences in approach, the underlying principle remains the same: a forward-thinking new way to engage in philanthropy and charity.
However, the recent controversies surrounding effective altruism raise concerns about the future of experimental charity. The Sam Bankman-Fried phenomenon is particularly worrying as it highlights issues related to celebrity culture, egos, and the allure of unconvincing pyramid schemes. This situation serves as a cautionary tale about our society's obsession with wealth and the notion that making a lot of money equates to being the smartest person in the world. This is exemplified by figures like Elon Musk, who may embody this troubling mindset. It is crucial to recognize that there are many intelligent individuals, such as Nobel Prize-winning physicists, who dedicate their lives to research without the pursuit of wealth.
In a more personal note, Rory Stewart expresses his appreciation for the success of his podcast amidst a sea of true crime and sports content. He highlights the importance of earnest discussions about global events. Currently, he is on his way to the Democratic National Convention and has recently returned from Afghanistan. His focus is on international reporting, particularly in light of the ongoing revolution in Bangladesh and the complex dynamics between Israel and Iran. With nearly half of the world's population set to vote this year, it marks the biggest electoral experience in world history. As the world becomes increasingly dangerous and fast-paced, Rory aims to keep people informed about global happenings, from Thailand to Tobago.
Rory concludes by thanking his audience and encouraging them to explore a selection of the best clips from the podcast available for viewing.