New Year Honours 2020. Gongs are handed out like confetti, provoking numerous Christmas headlines for a celebrity-obsessed media. I’m not dancing in the street, neither knighthood or fancy medal is winging my way. Another year of my life flies by without any recognition. Instead, those cricketers are centre stage. Worshipped for their miraculous Summer performances, my frequent disappointment over their predictable batting collapses is deemed silly point. An abysmal overall Test series record is glossed over; it can’t dampen our pride. But why is Her Majesty’s Government still so keenly entwined in an honours system that goes back to a Top of the Chivalry Pops system from 1348, the year best known for England’s Black Death? Let’s have a gander.
Our starting point should be a welcome acknowledgement. Most recipients aren’t Olivia Newton John! The Cabinet Office calculates that 72% of recipients have been recognised for their outstanding work in their local communities. Could patronage therefore be simply about signalling the value of intrinsic over extrinsic motivation? Is it helping to boost a positive spill-over for the wider community? This does receive an historical nod of approval. The introduction of the Order of the British Empire, for example, reflects efforts to recognise vital non-combatant efforts during World War One. By going to great lengths to reward philanthropic behaviour, we can fashion positive role models. Such role models pursue the greater good over their personal well-being. It may be a form of warm glow altruism, but it’s an outcome that the Government desires to further incentivise. By encouraging positive behaviour in future generations, our society is enriched by folk who see past monetary rewards. It’s a better life for us all because of them.
But what about the political recipients? Harold Wilson’s 1966 efforts to stop such awards have been long forgotten. The Conservative Party have thrown more gongs to their party machine than they have to World Cup winning footballers. They’ll perhaps surpass 200 sitting Tory MPs in Boris’s spell at the top. Why is loyal political service so richly rewarded? One possibility is offered by a quick adaption of the rational choice model. The idea is straightforward. Political leaders are motivated by their lust for power. They are therefore primarily motivated by efforts to maximise their vote. We would initially refer to the median voter model, where centrist policies are adopted to minimise alienating too much of the electorate. We can go further. The leadership acknowledge that there are dangers posed by political infighting. Personal ambition is constantly threatening a united front. Infighting becomes a vote loser. Methods are therefore required to create at least a passing illusion of loyalty. Patronage becomes a key element. In crass terms, it is a bribe. It is a cost-efficient means to reward political compliance. The hefty hedonic benefits from awards are more effective than the ugliness of monetary manipulation. Lifetime well-being is raised, further signalling to the political elite not to rock the electoral boat.
But should we go further in our critique? Could this annual obsession over gongs be a visible characteristics of a corrupted streak festering within the economy? Just two words will raise the heckles of folk from both the left and the right: Crony Capitalism. Free marketeers are reminded that their ideology has always been on the back foot. Right back to the dreary days of mercantilism, politicians have awarded monopoly rights to their favourite dandies in expensive starched ruff. There is a scathing rebuke of the blurring of the private and public sectors, with patronage integral at maintaining bonds. Success, which should reflect entrepreneurial risk, can instead result from super yacht dandies seeking political favour. Awards are an offshoot from this cosy relationship. From our left winger friends, there is surprisingly similar sneer. Accusation focuses on condemnation of patronage as a mechanism to legitimise inefficient inequalities. From Knighthoods to the Lords, it’s the offshoot of the well-connected advertising their unfair advantage. But should we quiver with fear over such kerfuffle? Unfortunately, I do think so. Both sides of the Crony Capitalism scoff highlight how patronage stunts the economy. Wealth creation is side-lined, and inefficient influence costs have an exaggerated role in public discourse. Public sector policy-making is hampered; the market necessarily twisted.
I’m left with a proper dilemma. What happens if there’s a surprise in New Year Honours 2021? What should I do when Her Majesty’s Government does finally come knocking at my door? While Sir Dunc does have a lovely ring to it, I’m afraid I must nod assent at the Crony Capitalism charge. Sorry Ma’am, I’m with David Bowie. You’ll just have to give the knighthood to someone else.
Photo by Casper Johansson on Unsplash