I wrote a first-draft version of what follows in a comment on a friend’s blog, and I think that in the process of writing it I got as close to a reasoned articulation of my problems with the organised (and even the disorganised) faiths of the world as I’ve ever managed. So I’m revising it, expanding it slightly, and posting it, in the hope that it will either change some minds, or that someone out there will change my mind by explaining the bit of logic I haven’t considered.

The background to what follows is that it’s born out of a conversation about Draw Mohammed Day. My friend was pointing out that said day was tasteless, as it was offensive to millions of Muslims the world over, and that while it was one thing to object to the extremists who prompted to the day in the first place, the act remains offensive to millions of people who are not extremists.

So here’s the bit I don’t get: why, just because it is a tenet of someone’s faith that they should not (or should) do a thing, is it automatically reasonable that they are offended when people who do not share their faith do (or don’t do) said thing? No-one is asking them to behave the same way. No-one is asking them to approve of it, or to think it is morally right. They’re not even being asked to look. They are simply being asked to acknowledge the right of others to not think or act like them.

My friend used an argument above about not offending her conservative aunt with her behaviour – that when she’s around that aunt, she dresses and acts a bit differently. I’m sure we can all relate to that – I don’t swear in front of my grandmother, I don’t talk about certain subjects with my aunts and uncles. But is that because I believe my relatives’ moral codes are correct? Absolutely not – if I did, I would live by them. It’s because I want them to continue to think well of me. And they understand that while I modify my behaviour in front of them, when I am at home I might behave differently, and they accept that I make a compromise in front of them in exchange for them not condemning the fact that I behave in other ways when they’re not around. They acknowledge my right not to think or act like them.

I am a non-believer in Islam. In the eyes of a member of that faith, which is the bigger sin – not believing in Islam at all, even a little, in fact rejecting many of its forms as oppressive superstition, or drawing the prophet?

So I make a compromise: I don’t go around beating my bloody great atheist drum all the time, in exchange for them not condemning me as an infidel simply because I don’t share their faith. I am, however, allowed to beat on it now and again, in the same way that they are allowed to tell me how they think I should be living my life from time to time. That’s public discourse for you. And if one wishes to partake of public discourse, by, say, belonging to a faith whose members do things in the public arena, then one must accept that not everything one hears is going to be in accordance with one’s private views, and that it is simply not reasonable to take offence at some of the things said. One must admit that others transgressing against one’s personal moral codes can, in fact, be about their right to self-expression, and not about attacking others.

Anyone who is really, genuinely and actually being seriously offended by something like Draw Mohammed Day has presumably already sat in greater judgement on the non-faithful, and on that basis, I find it easy not to worry about whether or not they’re offended over little things. I imagine that the great mass of the reasonable faithful, the ones that one might suggest are being offended here, are actually not seriously offended. Because the reasonable faithful, in order to be considered that, must surely acknowledge the right of others not to share their faith? Otherwise, how are they the reasonable faithful, and why should we listen to them, when they will not to us?

I did not, in fact, draw Mohammed, the other week. Because I don’t need to. But ultimately, it is important to me that I be able to say “it is not a sin to do so, should I wish to” and to reject the judgement on me of anyone who would condemn me for doing or thinking so. I acknowledge that they are free to judge it a sin, but they are absolutely not free to call me a sinner. I do not presume to judge them, why on earth should they be free to judge me, just because they believe differently to me?

Can someone tell me, then, what is offensive about this position? Or why we automatically think it is reasonable for people to be able to say “I’m a Christian/Muslim/Jew/Pagan/Buddhist/33rd degree anti-mason and I find that offensive?”

(I will pre-empt one possible line of argument: there are certain commandments/guidelines/articles of faith that I think we can acknowledge as universal – murder, theft, and so on. The sorts of things we enshrine in law. It is reasonable (if a little ludicrous) to say “I’m a Christian and I find murder offensive” because it reflects a very basic principle that transcends the codes of any of faith in a way that “I’m a Christian, and I find your worship of that idol offensive” does not. If you really think there’s a solid counter-argument to be spun out of that line of thinking, be my guest and try, but I suspect I am unlikely to buy it.)

Someone phone Grant Morrison, and tell him he’s won?

So, new government.

As a staunch non-Tory, am I wailing and rending my garments?

Well, no. Odds are tomorrow will be pretty much like yesterday, and will remain so. I’m not wild about the £6bn in cuts, but whoever won would have had to do similar, so I’m not going to instantly decry them. I am very worried that they’ll hit the most vulnerable first, but will at least wait until there’s a final budget before I press the “eject toys” button on this pram here. It’s just possible that the Lib Dems will reign in some of the Tories most egregious “fuck the oiks” tendencies.

Not wild about the immigration policy, and the couples tax break is a big bag of wank, and I’m more than a bit concerned about some of the language as regards unemployment, but other than that, I’m more or less OK with it. I’ll put up with a fair amount for a shot at some constitutional reform, and for the civil liberties provisions they’re talking about in the “Great Repeal Bill”, which I’m pretty much 100% behind.

I’ve been keeping my gob shut on the politics front for the last few weeks, because I haven’t wanted to get into it with some of my friends, and because I haven’t decided how I’m going to vote yet. I don’t want to get into economics, or ideology, because I’m not 100% up to date on manifestos and platforms. But I do care, very, very deeply about the forthcoming election, so I thought I’d try and set out my position.

In doing so, I’m going to relate the following true story:

Two weeks ago Mr Babatunde Akingbade died at his home in Nigeria. His death was recorded as an accident – Mr Akingbade wasn’t a well-off man, but he was a reasonably skilled manual labourer, and rather than pay for an electrician to run a extra cable into his rooms, he decided he’d do the job himself. Sadly, Mr Akingbade’s skills weren’t up to the task, and he electrocuted himself in the process.

Mr Akingbade’s son, Kumolu Akingbade lives in London – he had a little trouble with immigration shortly after he first moved here – some misfiled paperwork, it turned out in the end, but it all got sorted out. He works as at a company that runs activity weeks for children with special needs – I’m sure you know the sort of thing – a small group of children, who don’t normally get the opportunity to do this sort of thing, are taken out of London, to somewhere in the countryside, to go pony trekking, hillwalking and similar. One took place last week, that Kumolu was supposed to be part of the supervision team for this trip, but of course, he now has to fly back to Nigeria at short notice, to sort out his father’s estate.

So Mrs Carol Gavercole, who works for the same organisation is drafted to go along. Mrs Gavercole is a manager for the organisation, and if she doesn’t help them out now, they’re going to have to cancel the trip, the arrangement of which has been weeks of work, and cost quite a lot of money.

Mrs Gavercole has a son, Philip, who has several different disabilities, thanks to a driver whose brakes failed, and who mounted the kerb by accident a few years ago.  Philip doesn’t need round-the-clock at-home care – he still goes to a mainstream school, although getting him there can be a trial on a bad morning – but he can’t be left alone in the house for long periods. But sod’s law – wouldn’t you just know it – his school’s half term is the same week as this trip. Now Mr Gavercole is also a teacher, a deputy head at a primary school, but he teaches in another borough, and their half term is the following week.

With a lot of fast talking, the Gavercoles manage to get Mr Gavercole a day off to look after Philip on the Monday. And they beg a favour off a family friend for the Thursday. But that still leaves three days. Happily, the Gavercoles have another son, Jason, who works freelance as a sub-editor for the local paper. So he tells them that he can’t come in to work on those days, and spends the time with his brother, instead.

Of course, that leaves Jason out about 180 quid, before tax. That’s over half Jason’s rent. And then it turns out that that local paper don’t need him for one week later that month. Suddenly, half his pay packet is gone, and he has to borrow money off his housemates in order to pay his bills this month.

If you’re thinking of voting Conservative at this election, you’re planning to vote to make life harder for every single person I’ve mentioned above.

We’re all on this lump of rock together. Every last one of us. Politically speaking, I’m an anarchist, in the accurate sense of the term – I want to believe that ultimately, we’re all capable of organising peacefully to help one another without leaders or people in charge. But we’ve got a long way – generations and generations – to go to get there, and in the mean time, I do not want a government that looks on the individual as more important than the collective, because it is simply indisputable that we’re all connected. And even if you can’t vote to help the Akingbades directly, you can vote to help the Gavercoles, and for a party that will take an internationalist approach to the rest of the world – that will recognise that in the 21st century, helping the Akingbades will help the Gavercoles, which will help you.

I have changed the names and some basic details of the story, to prevent identification, but it is a true story. This isn’t a made-up hypothetical – this really happened. Please bear that in mind, if you would like to explain what anyone involved in the situation should have done differently, in order to justify why you think it’s OK to make their lives harder.

So, the Digital Economy Bill passed. What now?

Well, first of all, you might consider writing to your MP again. Here’s what I’m sending. You’d need to amend it a bit to reflect your specific circumstances, but it might be worth doing.

Dear Sadiq Khan,

I wrote to you a few weeks ago, regarding the Digital Economy Bill. I didn’t ask that you vote for or against it, because while I personally am against it, I recognise that the issues it covers are very complex, the answers are not simple, and that points of view other than mine need to be thoroughly considered. I wrote to you instead to ask that you do everything possible to stop this complex bill going through in the wash up, something that many of your colleagues in both houses of Parliament described as a deplorable abuse of process, and highly controversial at the least.

I have not yet received a response from you. I’m sure one will be forthcoming, as you’ve always been very good about writing back when I have written to you in the past, but I think you will agree that with the bill now passed, this is very much a case of too little, too late.

I wasn’t the only one writing to my MP on this matter. Over 10,000 people wrote to their MP expressing similar sentiments. And I know that you have had more letters than mine on their subject – I’m personally aware of at least 6 other people who wrote to you on the same topic, and I am certain that we were far from the only ones, even if you only got a statistically average number of letters. This wasn’t an outcry in favour of file-sharing, or other criminal activity, this was the people demanding that their elected representatives do the job they were elected to do, and take time to actually consider and debate one of the most controversial bills this parliament has seen.

I write to you to request, firstly, an account of any steps you took to prevent the bill being dealt with in the wash-up, and secondly an account of the business that kept you from the House on the night of Tuesday the 6th of April between 5pm and 9:30pm, when the bill got its second reading – surely if the bill had to be dealt with in the wash-up, it should at least have had a properly attended debate.

I’m aware that you are, of course, extremely busy, and cannot be expected to attend every debate in the House of Commons, but with the election coming up, I would like to be sure I understand what it is that you prioritise above the issues that matter to me and thousands of others – there’s every chance it was something more important, and I would like to give you the opportunity to convince me of that.

Perhaps you might even consider raising a question in the house, demanding that as many MPs as possible account for their whereabouts that night – while I’m sure you and your fellow MPs hear from people in similar numbers on a variety of issues, it is certainly usual to see such a groundswell of support, not for an agenda, but for the process of democracy, and I would very much like to know why so many MPs ignored the request not for them to come down on one side of a particular issue, but to simply take time to consider it fully.

Yours sincerely,

Alasdair Watson

If you do send a similar letter, and hear anything back, please do let me know. I think it’d be interesting to try and put together a list of what all the MPs who weren’t present were doing, so if you feel like circulating this idea, do please do so.

It is wrong that it would make me more likely to vote Labour if they actually used this as a campaign advert. But it probably would.

Edit: From the Grauniad’s April Fools Day joke here.

Write to your MP. Do it now.

What about? Well, you may have heard me and others carping on about the Digital Economy Bill. I’m going to set aside how I feel about it (although I’ll come back to that another time) for a moment, and just accept that some sort of Bill with that name has some kind of useful purpose. OK. It’s going to happen. Except with a Bill this important (the bill is after all, setting the basis for a large chunk of how our economy will work over the coming decades) it has to be done correctly, and democratically. There has to be debate, and out elected representatives should have time to consider it.

They’re not going to get that.

The Bill is going to be dealt with in the wash-up. (The wash-up being that period prior to a general election where bills and amendments are rushed through the houses expressly without proper oversight and debate – in theory to allow the business of the old parliament to be concluded.) The link above mentions that what she’s talking about is based on hearsay, and is not to be taken as 100% correct until Hansard is published. So allow me to quote Hansard.

Lord Young of Norwood Green: I answered that. However, the noble Earl is clearly as unfamiliar with the procedure as, I confess, I am. Nevertheless, I am reliably informed that the usual channels will see the proposed new clause and that an amended clause will then be dealt with in the wash-up. I cannot give any more details. My noble friend the Deputy Chief Whip is nodding in the affirmative. I rest on the assurance that we intend to do this. It is a viable way forward.

They’re going to continue to amend and push through a massively contentious bill, during the wash-up. So I think I will continue to quote Hansard.

The Earl of Erroll: I am in a difficult position. I am delighted that the Minister realises the shortcomings of this clause; that it has replaced the previous Clause 17, which I did not like either; and that, therefore, something better will appear. On the other hand, the method by which it is appearing is by a complete and absolute abuse of parliamentary process. I am not quite sure why we bother to sit and debate any laws at all if the Front Benches in another place can get together and put whatever they like into a bit of legislation. That is for another time and another place. I have always found the whole area of wash-up very troublesome, particularly as a Cross-Bencher who does not get a look-in at all. I have seen some very funny things going through. When I see two Front Benches colluding, I usually think that we are in trouble.

This is troubling enough, except that the other day, a BPI strategy memo was leaked. I’m going to quote from it, too.

John Whittingdale – an inveterate “timing sceptic” (ie. he’s for the bill but doesn’t think it will get through in time) has said this week that he thinks that it could still be lost if enough MPs protest at not having the opportunity to scrutinise it.

Even the proponents of this Bill do not think it will pass if MPs actually have time to look at it. They are basing their strategy on being able to ram this bill through in a thoroughly undemocratic manner. And they are going to succeed, unless you write to your MP, and demand that they demand the time to fulfill their democratic obligations.

Testament went well on Sunday. The players-only website for it, less so – I underestimated the complexity of the task I’d set myself, and have been hacking some fairly nasty javascript in spare moments all week to make it work. And even once I’ve got that done, that’s essentially just the player-relevant side of it done, I’ve still got some ref tools to finish.

The blog post I wrote on feminism did it’s job – it made me think, made me revise some views, hopefully making me a better person, and inspired one of the most interesting comments discussions I’ve seen on my blog. I want to be writing one post of about that scale/length a fortnight this year, and ideally once a week. I need to come up with a list of topics for myself.

Progress on personal blogging-related project: very limited. It’s the sort of thing that requires me to have entire hours spare to sit and chip away at it, and I just haven’t had those this week – Testament has eaten them all.

Gym visits: none. Breaking this streak is priority one next week.
Number of links bookmarked on delicious: 6
Album of the week: John Barleycorn Reborn, on constant play on the bus.

I belong to what is pretty much the privileged group people on the planet: I am a middle class white cisgendered neurotypical heterosexual male from a developed nation who does not suffer from a mental illness or have a serious physical disability.

This tends to make me very careful when I talk about equality-related topics, because I am very aware that through no fault of my own, I am more equal than others. I did not ask for it, and I try not to take advantage of it, but nor do I go out of my way to reject the favourable inequities it bestows on me, partly because I don’t know how to, but also because my life is very nice, thank you, and my donning sackcloth and ashes won’t actually help anyone. The solution is to make everyone’s life as nice as mine, not to make mine worse, y’know?

Jenni linked to a conversation between Katie West and Penny Red. I found it an fascinating discussion that really made me think.

Penny’s point, essentially boils down to the fact the women do not have the privilege to do with their bodies as they please, free of political context.

Unfortunately, you don’t get a choice. As a woman, your relationship to your body is always political.

This bugs me on a number of levels. Firstly: that’s a horrifying sentiment. I honestly don’t know if it’s true or not – I know I don’t *want* it to be, and I know that my intial response is that it can’t be, that everyone has the right to define their own relationship with themselves, but I fear that is just my privilege talking. Certainly everyone should have the right to define their own relationships with themselves. Secondly it’s a staggering inequality between men and women, and I am against those.

I feel very strongly that Katie, that everyone, has to have the right to say “no, my relationship with my subject is not political – I choose to do this for my own reasons, and I am declaring that my work, and the relationship with my subject that it is part of, is not about the wider issues surrounding said subject, it is simply about me and my thoughts”. Art may not exist in a vacuum, but an artist may certainly declare that their work is not, for them, part of a wider context, and ask not to be considered in that way. It doesn’t follow that everyone will respect that request, but they have the right to ask for it, and frankly, if a thing is asked for, and it costs nothing to grant it, then it is churlish not to do so.

I am however aware that Katie’s chosen subject is a very charged one. That it may not actually be possible, thanks to the state of gender equality.

And this is where I get back to me. Because really, everything’s about me, of course. I’m a middle class white etc etc.

A brief digression. I don’t like being called a feminist. I mean, I am one, I guess, but men using the term sets my teeth on edge. Not because of the women who use the label, but because of the men. Almost every bloke I’ve ever met who actually used the term “feminist” to describe themselves as a matter of course has had something of the slightly-too-earnest, trying-a-bit-too-hard about him. And, generally, a closer examination of their conduct has revealed that they haven’t been out for equal rights, they’ve been looking to save the poor defenceless women from the terrible patriarchal ogres, and they get very defensive if they’re ever accused of sexism, or being part of the problem. It’s all a bit sleazy, really.

I am not out to emancipate womankind. For one thing, I’m too busy. But much more importantly, all the women I know who give a shit about this sort of thing have about as much use for my help as they do for a chocolate teapot. They’re fully capable of asserting their own rights, and the most useful thing I can do is get out of the way, or possibly hold their coats.

Which brings me do my point: how do I get out of the way? How do I, as a non-fees-paying member of the patriarchy, help create a world where the quote above is not true?

I mean, I am not the kind of man that goes “phwooar” at women, or generally passes comment on their appearance beyond a minimum level of polite compliment. (I generally don’t even hit the “polite compliment” bar, being too dense to notice that someone has changed their hair/worn new shoes/waxed their moustache on any given day, but let’s cover all the bases, shall we?) If there are no women in a given group, and someone is coming out with genuine sexist horseshit, I generally call them on it, if I feel I know them well enough. (I don’t do the same when there are women around, as I don’t want to place them in the position of being looked to to validate or negate my perception of sexism if they’ve chosen not to say anything themselves.)

And yet, I am not able to opt out of casting a Male Gaze (at least, according to some second-wave feminists). And just to be clear, this isn’t a “oh, poor me, I am being held to account for sins I don’t commit, because I am a good little Grauniad reader” type feminist of the sort I identified above. The world is essentially ordered for my convenience, so I don’t get to complain about, really, anything on the equality front. Plus, honestly: yes, I fancy women, and I’m told that it probably isn’t healthy to deny that. What I am saying here is that I feel I have a duty not to make the world a more difficult place for anyone, and I genuinely don’t know if there’s a way I can avoid doing it, simply because I’m a man who, y’know, looks at things, and I am therefore contributing to the problem, and I wonder what more I can do?

Addendum: I have had a few conversations on this topic in the last week, since I wrote the first draft of this post, and had some useful advice, and have revised a few of my views slightly. I am publishing this post as originally written, as I think the questions I’m asking in it are sincere and hopefully valid ones, and I’m interested in hearing a wide range of thoughts on the topic.

You will have noticed that I stopped the 30 days thing on Christmas Day. The things you have missed are a detailed recap of my week, month and year followed by my hopes and dreams for the future, followed by closing with another dose of whatever took my fancy. While I’ve tried to be relaxed about some of the topics of this meme, and to plough gamely on wherever I could, my inner editor filed that lot collectively as “2009 in review” and wouldn’t let me write ‘em separately, because it would bore the pants off anyone. Particularly with the meme’s terms of “in detail”.

So, in summary: I’ve had a good year. Started it by throwing what I think everyone agreed was quite a successful new year’s party. Fitted in trips to Toronto, Amsterdam and Belfast. Started dating a particularly marvellous human being toward the end of the summer. Ran a decent LARP through to its conclusion, ran some very successful (and some less successful) tabletop games. Took a decent number of photos I liked. Did a bit of writing here and there than I didn’t hate. Completely failed to learn a new programming language. Had a fairly profound religious experience by accident. Did a few stupid things, but on balance I think fewer than in previous years, which is all one can really ask for. And, of course, I continue to be blessed with marvellous friends and family.

Those of you I haven’t seen enough of through the year, I apologise, and tender my regrets – there isn’t one among you who I wouldn’t like to have seen more of. Those of you who have seen too much of me, the same. The to-do list for the rest of 2009 reads “tidy up, throw party”.

As for 2010, I simply hope it’ll be better than 2009 for all of us.