Anderson Primary School in Birmingham named a room after their hero Marcus Rashford

Week 28 of The Shift and the spectacle of decentralisation continues: not necessarily any change in the structure or culture of our political system, or governance. But more evidence – and more coverage – of the growing pull away from Westminster.

Mayor of Manchester Andy Burnham’s standoff with No 10 was not just a demand for more money: it was a plea for more autonomy. With so much variation in circumstances from city to city, region to region, his call was for greater trust in those closest to the ground to be able to judge what is needed to keep the people on side in the pandemic.

What started as a familiar North / South divide quickly became a critique of the culture of top-down politics altogether. In an interview with the New Statesman, Burnham said:

Westminster makes a fraud out of people, because it basically makes people say things that they don’t believe in, vote in ways that go against their principles, and no matter how strong they are, in the end, that’s what the Westminster experience does to you. It leaves you sort of not sure what you’re all about, really, because of the way that the whip system works and the way the party system works.

Remarkably, Burnham was finding more commonality with other Mayors like himself, including Andy Street, Conservative Mayor of West Midlands, than his own shadow cabinet. When asked if he wanted to lead the Labour party he said:

Andy Turnham - the new ‘King of the North’ according to the New Musical Express

I’m not planning a route back…the danger is of thinking of politics at Westminster being the be all and end all. I think until that changes, the political culture of this country won’t change for the better. This may well be, and in fact it’s likely to be, my last job in politics.

In a different arena completely, footballer Marcus Rashford was making a call on the government to continue funding free school meals for kids during school holidays and lock-down. When the motion was comprehensively defeated in Parliament, scores of already hard-pressed councils around England defied the government, rallied around Rashford’s call on Twitter, and pledged to fund the meals themselves.

In addition, local businesses and community groups came out in support, determined not to let the kids go hungry. In Rashford’s words “Even at their lowest point, having felt the devastating effects of the pandemic, local businesses have wrapped their arms around their communities today, catching vulnerable children as they fell”.

“Don’t get too excited” you might say, “that hardly adds up to a revolution”. Another admonition: “be careful what you wish for”. Are we looking to go as far as full-scale resistance to government edicts?

Yet so much of our day is in conversation with people and groups designing a new idea of democracy from the bottom up. This is not simply protest or anger against a failed authority which might leave the country in chaos such as what is currently occurring in Nigeria, Belarus and Poland – though each of those is an extraordinary step against autocratic government worth the spotlight. These are, instead, carefully designed systems of mutual support amongst groups who are becoming response-able for their own futures – which we describe generically as citizen action networks (CANs).

Here’s Parmjit Nahil interviewing Deena Wildgoose of ThinkFC who set up Coalville CAN (also Communities and Neighbours) describing how to take your first steps. It’s also a whistle-stop tour of their ‘wicked spreadsheets’ to help organise moves into social enterprise. Join our co-creators call this Monday – and every fortnight – to get into the learning circle.

A woman in Lagos joins a protest against police brutality, in Nigeria’s biggest demonstrations since the return of civilian rule in 1999

Are these different from the long-established and constantly evolving branches of the co-operative movement? Not in their intent and purpose to give people ownership of their own economic conditions and offer solidarity amongst the less privileged: in this, co-ops are the forerunners. But CANs are different in their orientation, often starting with women in community, taking care of the full spectrum of needs of their families and neighbourhoods.

In the age of Facebook and WhatsApp, this often starts with emotional needs as much as material ones, addressing mental health and well-being as much as poverty in their opening conversations. There is also an explicit goal of moving across a diverse community and overcoming socio-economic divides. In CANs, these are not competing sets of priorities, but new ways of drawing complex causes together into action, as we face our multiple crises.

In a recent on-line meeting of Trust the People, three different groups of activists – Black Lives Matter, Extinction Rebellion and The Alternative UK – came together to talk through the changes they were experiencing in the run up to TTP’s second round of training programmes (blogged here).

Bhavini Patel described her journey as a black woman in a white neighbourhood—from feeling unable to talk in public gatherings to knowing she had to stand up. She was no longer prepared to wait for equality to be granted to her. Instead she asked the other women around her to give her the space and time to be heard – which they were happy to do.

Nothing grows without sufficient attention and often that is the most important gift one person can give to another in their struggle to grow. In turn Bhavini was confident that what she had to bring would benefit the whole community.

This is people creating the conditions for each other to grow, more than demanding it from a remote source of power. We are all aware that community can give people the sense of belonging so many of us miss in our everyday lives. But it can also offer individuals vital status within that community that would guarantee their visibility and help them stay protected.

In the same TTP meeting, Charlotte Owusu-Allen talked about the domino effects of sharing stories, as if one person’s authentic sharing was the cause of another and then another, like popcorn popping. In such a field of activity, not speaking up would be an act of support for the old system that oppressed them. It’s the same way that not voting in an election is not a neutral action, but an act of omission that hands power to your opponent.

In contrast, a community held together by storytelling is strong and enabled from the inside. As Scottish philosopher Alasdair MacIntyre once said: “Deprive people of stories and you leave them unscripted, anxious stutterers in their actions as in their words. Hence there is no way of giving us an understanding of any society, including our own, except through the stock of stories which constitute its initial dramatic resources.”

Imagine if this era of waking up and speaking up had been met with a recognition by the government that, in the midst of the Covid crisis, people and communities were the best source of self-care we could develop? That after an initial period of education and boundary setting – masks, disinfecting and social distancing – the plan had been to gradually hand the reins over to the people to take care of each other and themselves, with the best of government support. (Instead, the presupposition of the UKGov’s behavioural advisors was that the unwilling public needed to be “nudged”, then disciplined, into good practice).

Imagine if our government had started with this expectation of trust and built on it—with ever wider responsibilities being handed downwards to cities and councils to be in a quality conversation with their citizens, who in turn might take increasing responsibility for themselves. Would we not now be in a position to move back into workable lives, knowing that we would be taking care of each other effectively?

Then instead of dreading this year’s Christmas when children might be deprived of friends, aunts and uncles they see only once a year. With thousands breaking the rules (but living in fear of crippling fines). It could have been a time of careful planning, a bit of creativity and self-discipline, and joy.

Dream on you might say. And yes, we will.

Alternative Editorial: A New Kind of Populism