25

The Naked Ape

NOT EVERYONE WITH concerns about immigration should be dismissed as a racist, but taking this on board could be seen as opening the door to the worst kind of xenophobia. It is vital not to oversimplify expressions of racism or fail to drill down into its real causes and so what I will attempt to outline here is the beginning of a strategy to confront anti-immigration sentiment at its roots. This approach recognises that the racist component in any anti-immigration sentiment must be challenged and condemned. Nevertheless, confronting such a complicated social problem means facing up to what some will consider unpalatable truths and addressing the psychosocial drivers that can underpin racist views.

It is counterproductive to hold the view that anyone with concerns about immigration must be misinformed, racist or stupid. For instance, I find the word ‘junkie’ quite offensive, but if I decided I wasn’t going to listen to the opinion of anyone who used that word, I’d only be creating more problems for myself – especially if my goal is to create better dialogue around the issue. Sometimes, much as it pains us, we must grudgingly adjust ourselves to reality before seeking to reorder it. Superimposing our own values on other people, in the hope of corralling them to our way of thinking, is not only naive, it is futile.

This is especially the case when dealing with massive disparities in experience, because the person we think of as racist is as firmly rooted in the reality of their own moral world as someone of an opposing view. Now let me be clear, this is not an attempt to claim there is an automatic moral equivalence between any two opposing viewpoints. It’s simply to acknowledge that, because of their background and upbringing, people tend to commit to their beliefs irrespective of the veracity of the beliefs themselevs. Therefore, the fear of being publicly shamed or condemned outwith that community is unlikely to convince anyone to change their position. On top of which, it is likely that condemnation will arouse suspicion and scepticism – emotions that close the possibility of dialogue. Moral outrage and condemnation, however justified and cathartic, is likely to be a waste of energy if the objective is to encourage a change of mind. To me, this is the reality of the challenge in respect of immigration as a political issue.

The dilemma of where debate breaks down is analysed in forensic detail by American scholar and psychologist Jonathan Haidt in his book The Righteous Mind: Why Good People are Divided by Politics and Religion. His examination of the interplay of biology, neuroscience, evolution and psychology suggests that finding common ground between warring political factions requires mindfulness of the extent to which instinct drives politics. He argues that when we find debate intractable, this can be because we are too quick to dismiss – or monster – other points of view. Responses of disgust and revulsion and the social pressure we experience to conform to a political dogma make us less likely to grant opposing views full consideration. While this may ingratiate us with our own political tribe and sharpen our sense of who we are, these factors potentiate dialogue breakdown and even more serious conflict. If we are to bridge those gulfs of understanding and overcome apparently intransigent political and cultural divisions, Haidt sees it as vital to appreciate moral diversity and open channels of dialogue. He writes:

If you really want to change someone’s mind on a moral or political matter, you’ll need to see things from that person’s angle as well as your own. And if you do truly see it the other person’s way – deeply and intuitively – you might even find your own mind opening in response… empathy is an antidote to righteousness, although it’s very difficult to empathise across a moral divide.

And so, if we genuinely want to confront and reverse racism and xenophobia, we must expand the armoury of tools at our disposal. The campaign of shaming has failed. Our proclamations about tolerance, diversity and inclusion will require an enhanced component of emotional literacy. There is a new emotional reality that we must integrate into our understanding if we are to truly confront this issue, as opposed to merely containing it. The reality is that the conditions of poverty in which much of this (though certainly not all) anti-immigration sentiment is found are so severe they affect the way people think, feel and behave. Granted, resistance, condemnation and censorship may culturally suppress the worst of it, creating the impression it has dissipated, but the issue will re-emerge in a more virulent form further down the line

Obviously, not everyone will be prepared to act from this point of view, but those of us who are willing to try, must – even at the risk of criticism and expulsion from our own tribe. Everyone must be free to hold to their strict ethical lines but it is also crucial that those who wish are free to explore the grey areas between seemingly black and white moral issues.

It’s also important to resist making value judgements based solely on the language people use when expressing an opinion; when someone expresses what appears to be a racist opinion, there are several factors to be considered before that person can truly be dismissed as a racist. When someone prefaces their opinion with ‘I’m not racist, but’, they might be telling the truth. Then there’s the social and cultural context and personal circumstances to consider. Take the two boys I mentioned in the previous chapter. Would condemnation from me have served any purpose, other than removing the potential for dialogue later? In practical terms, what would calling those young boys racist really have achieved, especially if they do not recognise my moral authority, and being regarded as racist by me is not a problem for them?

Endeavouring to make distinctions between different sorts of anti-immigration sentiment is not a matter of choice, it is a matter of practical urgency – and has nothing to do with apologising for regressive social attitudes or condoning racist views. On the contrary, it’s about engaging in a serious and robust way. Patience, tolerance and cultural sophistication are needed as much as condemnation and moral outrage. This approach means disengaging temporarily from our own sense of what is right and wrong and opening ourselves to the moral logic of people with whom we disagree.

In my experience, many people arrive at conclusions that could be characterised as racist, or express views in a racist manner, either because of their upbringing or because the only people prepared to listen to them happen to be bigots. But this does not mean they can’t be persuaded otherwise, in the right circumstances. Writing someone off as racist implies they are unsalvageable and futureless; that they are beyond hope. Outright condemnation risks reinforcing the feelings of exclusion that push people into the arms of the far right. In the instance of those young boys in the additional needs school, condemning them as racist would have been about as useful as reading a newspaper to a piece of fruit. I believe that whatever the context, a nuanced approach to anti-immigration is required and that every person requires a different approach before they are tossed into the bucket of deplorables.

Sometimes people are drawn to right-wing figures like Donald Trump and Nigel Farage because they feel they are finally being listened to; they feel they are striking back at the people they feel abandoned and excluded by. Sometimes that urge to retaliate takes precedence over all other concerns. Yet in the western world, the fact that immigration is a mainstream issue has had little impact in some quarters. Many on the left believe that conceding even an inch is to open the door to fascism. Others are engaged in a campaign of denial and obfuscation where the facts about immigration are concerned. People who are unwilling to concede or discuss some of the uncomfortable truths about immigration fall into two camps: those who know there are problems but who believe it’s dangerous to discuss them in terms set by the far right, and those who genuinely don’t think there’s an issue and that anyone who does is racist.

Let me reiterate: the threat posed by right-wing populism is very real. But to claim there are no legitimate concerns about immigration is useless and fails to account for the extent to which politics are rooted in the emotional reality of people’s lives.

Unsurprisingly, the people in society who are pro-immigration are usually those who feel connected, involved or have been cut into the action in some way and are thus invested in the process. It’s in their interests, personally, professionally and culturally, to talk up the merits of immigration and dissuade anti-immigration sentiment. They belong to networks and social circles that grant insight into how decisions are made and may even be able to affect the outcome of these decisions in some way. Pro-immigration third sector groups, charities, activists and politicians are quick to talk up the ‘net gains’ of immigration, unlike those who are frozen out of these networks. Net gains are rarely felt this far down the economic pecking order, so it’s a bit of a red herring as far as persuasive arguments go.

As I outlined earlier, being locked out of the decision-making process lies at the heart of a lot of community friction. In terms of immigration, the far right emerges in various forms to capitalise on the vacuum left by those who refuse to engage with this issue.

It’s not rocket science: listen, and those who feel ignored will re-engage passionately. People used to being dismissed will form bonds of trust with the individuals, movements, organisations and political parties that include them. This creates the social electricity that can be harnessed for positive political momentum. If we can change our posture towards some of the anti-immigration sentiment and engage it, many will begin to believe there is value in dialogue and turn away from the far right, which preys on anger and exclusion as political propulsion.

Racism exists at every level of society. It would be wrong to argue otherwise or imply that poverty absolves people of taking responsibility for their socially regressive attitudes or hate crimes. Anxieties about legitimising racism are completely justified. Bigots, emboldened by the social divisions so evident in our society, will exploit every opportunity to empower themselves. But the danger of dismissing concerns about immigration offhand, or failing to appreciate the varying degrees of concern being expressed and its broader context, is that people are excluded from the conversation about their own lives.

I know I’m probably being a bit naive and overly optimistic, but I find it really hard to write-off people living in deprived areas as unsalvageable or futureless for pointing out some of the obvious problems in their community. Yes, it’s wrong that people should pin blame on immigrants themselves, but it’s not wrong to admit that immigration policy can have immensely challenging impacts in socially deprived communities. Acknowledging this might disarm much of the criticism currently being levelled at the left, which is regarded as impossibly idealistic on this issue.

We need to look at the impact spikes in the migrant population have on deprived communities where psychosocial stress is already endemic. We cannot decide to acknowledge or ignore social concerns or problems purely on the basis of whether we feel personally offended or threatened. Not every degree of concern about immigration is the same and anybody with a genuine interest in social justice must be prepared to hear what people have to say before dismissing them as racist. If we can accept that criminality or chronic illness often has its roots in poverty then we must also be prepared to accept that other socially regressive attitudes may too. The reason it’s so important to make these distinctions is in order to distinguish those we can persuade or accommodate from those we really need to fight. It’s not about giving racists a free pass; it’s about properly rooting them out and leaving them with nowhere to hide.

Some of the world’s most vulnerable people, fleeing poverty and violence, find themselves in our most impoverished and violent communities on arrival in the uk. In the whirlwind of hyperbole, scapegoating and recrimination, there is a sensible conversation to be had about both the causes and effects of immigration in our most challenged communities and how we can make it work better. Not least for migrants themselves.