Recently, the British Terminally Ill Adults (End of Life) Bill has been in the news again. At its third Commons reading, Members of Parliament (MPs) supported it and the bill will now go to the Lords, many expecting it to become law. Much has been written about the ‘Assisted dying’ bill and I would rather approach it from a different angle. As the bill has gone through parliament, I have noticed its embodiment of a new and interesting style of public policy: rightsideism.
Six years ago, the journalist Jesse Singal made a crucial distinction between accuracy norms and rightside norms,
‘Accuracy norms are about, well, accuracy: People who subscribe to accuracy norms are most concerned with spreading true claims, and with debunking false ones. Rightside norms are about being on the right ‘side’ of a given controversy: People who subscribe to rightside norms are more concerned with showing that they are on the right side of a given controversy, and that the people on the other side are morally suspect, than they are with accuracy, at least in a zoomed-in sense.’
Conservatives have their own problems with facts, yet rightsideism is mainly associated with progressives; after all, such ideologies emphasize a ‘right side’ of history and, at elite level, seem to be more constrained (i.e. exhibit less internal diversity in attitudes).
In public policy, what would rightsideism look like? Given that rightsideists are not primarily motivated by facts, one would expect their conduct to provide clues of this. As many have observed, emotion has played a prominent role in the case for the Assisted dying bill; parliamentary debates have been dominated by anecdotes about the death of loved ones. Some of these have approached parody, elevating the mawkish and trite over serious debate about constitutional implications.
A surfeit of emotional stories is not necessarily evidence for rightsideism. More generally, those with lower reasoning ability tend to use anecdotes and opponents of the bill have used such evidence. On another level, this reflects demand for such stories among the electorate. For example, it is difficult to believe that the lawyerly Keir Starmer regards a promise to Esther Rantzen (a terminally ill celebrity) as the primary motivation for allowing a debate and vote; rather, he is pandering to the spirit of our age.
Yet we might expect rightsideists to use such anecdotes more often. If facts are not a primary motivation, one must create and sustain a picture of one’s opponent, i.e. the wrongsideist, as morally deficient and worthy of opposition. Emotive anecdotes are a reliable way of doing this – what sort of person could oppose the last wish of a dying grandmother? - and, for those who are not primarily motivated by facts in the first place, such evidence is likely to be more impactful.
Relatedly, we may expect rightsideists to adopt dismissive attitudes towards procedure and opposition. If someone knows they are on the right side, opposition can be seen as pathological and procedure as cumbersome. Admittedly, certain critics of Kim Leadbeater, the bill’s sponsor and public face, have overplayed their hand. To some degree, Leadbeater has reached out to opponents and, in response to concerns, has introduced safeguards such as the advertising ban.
Yet other practices have been concerning. Why were opponents of the bill numerically underrepresented and practically disadvantaged at committee stage? Why did the debate about the calling of committee witnesses take place in private? Why is Leadbeater so reluctant to answer straight questions? All politicians use tricks, but this campaign seems to have used more than usual.
As Singal acknowledges, few people are pure rightsideists. Rather, it seems to be an impulse which, at different times and to varying degrees, certain progressives indulge. Patterns in parliament are similarly messy. Some Conservative MPs act like rightsideists and, on the Labour and Liberal Democrats benches, there is a wide range of behaviours. Certain policy areas lend themselves to rightsideism, whilst others do not.
Of course, opponents of the bill have their own faults. Some critics seem to be entirely motivated by religion. There is room for faith in politics, but not to the extent that it overrides all other motivations; liberal democracy should be secular. Indeed, the curious parallels between rightsideism and religion raise questions about broader relationships with liberal democracy. Such religious motivations were once a primary threat to liberal democracy and, in certain parts of the world, remain so.
Does rightsideism present a similar problem for liberal democracy? It is scarcely the equivalent of religious fundamentalism, yet we should not dismiss its challenge. To be an effective legislator, one must be a servant of evidence. Such evidence may lend itself to multiple interpretations, yet at its core is a body of facts which parliamentarians must acknowledge and negotiate; this promotes transparency and accountability.
If MPs follow a vague sense of rightsidedness, one is left wondering where this comes from and how it might be contested. Who decides on the right side? In the case of the Assisted dying bill, who chooses which anecdote should be favoured? Why does the dying grandmother seem to be preferred to the disabled person who dreads pressure from the changed law? As with the phenomenon of ‘vibes’, certain positions and facts are conservative and progressive-coded. But this can be very dangerous. For example, such coding underpinned the grooming gang scandal.
Over two hundred and fifty years ago, the great thinker and parliamentarian Edmund Burke made his famous speech to the electors of Bristol. In it, he asserted that his duty was to the nation, rather than to a narrow group of electors. Yet the speech is more than the concerns of an 18th century politician; it sets out the need for legislators to conceive of distinct interests in a careful and analytic manner and, resultingly, is of perennial relevance. We will never know what Burke would have made of rightsideism; but I suspect he would have stood against it.
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Why is support for a bill of this kind pejoratively labelled as "rightsideism" when it can just a readily - more so, I think - be characterised as a rational response to a substantial body of evidence?
Another thoughtful essay, Thomas.
I can't help but be reminded of the transgender debate, where soi-disant liberals (who really aren't) are all about being on the supposed "right side", no matter the harms to people and society. I'm a staunch, lifelong liberal, and I'm so fed up with the willful ignorance of "my" side on this issue.
Anyway, don't mean to derail the discussion. The concept of "rightsideism" resonates.