I used to play five-a-side football with Keir Starmer. Although this might sound like a pathetic attempt to show that I am better connected than I am, I’ll risk the ridicule because I can’t help feeling that my past acquaintance with the favourite to be the UK’s next prime minister gives me some insight into his character, and that should be of interest to anyone unsure of how to vote.
But could these feelings be misplaced? Does character really matter and can playing football with someone give you any genuine knowledge of theirs?
Philosophers such as Aristotle and Kongzi (Confucius) have argued that character is central to ethics. They argue that rules and precepts matter less than an individual’s disposition to do the right thing and their wisdom to judge what that right thing is. These “virtue ethicists” have tended to argue that we build character in all of our actions. For example, by cultivating the habit of honesty in small everyday matters we become honest people in general.
Contemporary psychology has thrown some doubt on the idea that virtues are automatically displayed across all our behaviours. Someone can be brave on land but a coward at sea; honest with their partner and a liar at work; thorough in bookkeeping but a corner-cutter with DIY. This doesn’t debunk the whole idea that character matters but it does alert us to the need to be careful not to draw too many conclusions from limited demonstrations of virtue or vice.
Most people do not fully subscribe to virtue ethics, but character is certainly a card that politicians like to play, positively and negatively. Conservative leader and outgoing Prime Minister Rishi Sunak likes to portray Starmer as a man without principles who dropped all the policy pledges he made when elected to leader of his party and presented himself as a centrist when he fully backed the far-left Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn at the last general election. Sunak, in turn, has been accused of being a liar for standing by an unsubstantiated claim that Labour will raise taxes by £2,000 per person and having no respect or good judgment by leaving the D-Day commemorations early in order to go for a television interview.
But how much the public cares about character is questionable. Most people would probably rank John Major and Gordon Brown as among the more honourable occupiers of 10 Downing Street yet both were voted out for their perceived weaknesses. The case of Donald Trump muddies the waters even more. Many of his supporters evidently admire the very same aspects of his character that his critics despise. Depending on your politics he is either arrogant or confident, out of his mind or independently-minded, dangerously nationalistic or admirably patriotic. Maybe we all think politicians should be of good character but disagree about the optimal character traits of leaders.In general, the virtues of strength and confidence seem to rank higher than honesty or integrity.
In the case of Keir Starter, the major question marks over his character concern his commitment to his principles and his ability to lead. Those on Labour’s left think he is not nearly socialist enough while critics from the right believe he is either too socialist or just an opportunist with no consistent principles at all. People also ask if this uncharismatic man really has what it takes to lead the country.
On both counts, my memories of Starmer suggest that his critics are wrong. Start with the question of leadership. Starmer was the main organiser of the weekly kick-about but it never felt like his show. Perhaps more to the point, on the pitch he was always encouraging the others on his team, never blaming them for their mistakes. When losing, his mantra was “Come on lads, we’re better than this!” Overall, he was the kind of leader who didn’t put himself above those he was leading. This many make him less charismatic than a spotlight-chaser like Boris Johnson or Emmanuel Macron, but for my money, that’s all for the good.
As for the question of principles, one little incident has stuck in my mind that illustrates he has them in spades. At the time, I was the lodger of a lawyer – call him Michael – who used to work with Keir at the radical chambers Doughty Street, which was and is committed to issues of justice, human rights and civil liberties, often offering its services pro bono to deserving causes. In the pub after a match, I once joined the pair of them as Michael was evidently trying to persuade Starmer to come and join his chambers, which specialised in industrial injury cases. This is still honourable work – Michael had won large awards for many people who were dying from industrial poisoning, securing their families’ futures. But it was not nearly as centred on social justice as Doughty Street.
I remember Starmer sternly looking Michael in the face, full of earnest seriousness. “I’m very committed, Michael” he said. To which Michael replied, “I know. So was I.” The difference in tense said it all. There must have been many opportunities for Starmer to have switched to more lucrative work, but his commitment to social justice has been resolute. He stuck with Doughty Street, became the Director of Public Prosecutions, earning him a knighthood, and is now close to having the keys to number ten.
The obvious sceptical reply to this is that my memories are from more than 25 years ago. People are changed by age and power. Starmer stuck to his guns in that Highbury pub but how do I know his commitment didn’t weaken as his ambition grew? Of course, my judgment on this is far from foolproof. Still, I think Starmer earned the benefit of my doubt. Adolescent idealism is often eroded by adult cynicism, but by the time of that pub conversation Starmer was already a successful barrister with his comfortable North London house. He and the likes of Michael had already diverged in their life paths. Furthermore, everything we know about Starmer’s life to date suggests that he has been unwavering in his social conscience.
Of course he has learned to make compromises. His backing of Jeremy Corbyn shows not a lack of principle, but a commitment to the greater cause of his party that demands loyalty even when you do not entirely agree with what it is doing. It shows that he is a team player who does not sulk off when the others decide to play differently to how he would. When he was chosen to lead, he rallied an enfeebled party, telling them they could do better. And they have.
For me, Starmer’s willingness to serve Corbyn shows a kind of integrity, not a lack of it. People misunderstand integrity, thinking that it is a rigid commitment to a given course of action, whatever the cost. That sounds more like sanctimonious stubbornness. I see integrity as a commitment to doing what is right and best, even if that means changing course and compromising on one principle to advance a more important one. Character is not the same as charisma and it demands rather than precludes compromise.
Starmer’s public persona may be unconvincing. But look at the path he has taken through life and it is hard to doubt that he is serious about doing what he can to make our country fairer. Character is not the only qualification for a prime minister. But it should be a necessary if not sufficient condition for trusting someone with the job. What I saw of Starmer’s character was what he revealed when off duty, just being himself playing a game he loved. And what he showed in his conversation with Michael was not public, but a genuine personal moment. I think both reflected core and stable aspects of his character, ones that are directly relevant to the question of his fitness to govern. I have no idea whether Starmer is a good friend, father or partner but when it comes to leadership and principles, I think I have seen enough to believe he passes the character test.
News
I wrote a piece for the Observer critiquing the growing area of personalised nutrition, with the British company Zoe as Exhibit A. Some people were annoyed, as Zoe has worked for them. But that it “works” for some people in some ways is not in doubt. The question is whether it is useless or counterproductive for others and whether the personalisation is doing any real work.
I’ve also reviewed for the TLS Eric Schwitzgebel’s The Weirdness of the World, which you might think should be called The Weirdness of Philosophers. Its behind a paywall (but supporters will have access to a version of the review very soon.)
I’m looking forward to speaking at several events in the coming months. Tickets are already on sale for three appearances at the Edinburgh International Book Festival in August. I’ll also be in Wigtown, Cheltenham and Wanstead in the autumn, and will also be announcing several Bristol events soon.
A reminder that the paperback of How to Think Like a Philosopher has come out as well as a new and expanded edition of The Pig that Wants to be Eaten, which now has ten new thought experiments.
I am going to be walking a marathon in early July. Having run a half marathon in my very early twenties and swearing never to put my joints under such pressure again, this is now the only way that I will ever cover a marathon distance. The walk is a great excuse to raise money for Macmillan Cancer Care, which provides patients and their families with invaluable help. I am donating July’s supporters fees to the cause, which makes it an even better time than usual to become a supporter yourself. Donations are also welcome here.
That’s all for now. If you’d like to receive future posts like this direct to your inbox, at no charge ever, sign up below.
Until next time, if nothing prevents.