ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Writing a book is hard. I was told so from the beginning. But it’s impossible to prepare for quite how difficult, and what kind of difficult, it will be. I would like to say that I managed it through my own resourcefulness, determination, and sheer force of will, but that would be a lie. There were moments when I came close to giving up, when I wondered what the hell I was doing, when I questioned why I had the right to a voice that I so clearly had not earned. There were long periods when my mental and physical health deteriorated under the weight of the stress, the pressure, the imagined expectations, and the self-imposed solitude. There were times when I seriously questioned my ability to complete the massive task I had set for myself. To add insult to injury, I lost two laptops. If all I’ve learnt from this process is the habit of continuously backing up my work, then it’s probably been worth it.

Whenever things got tough, there was someone there to support me. As soon as I reached out for help — and sometimes before — I had someone by my side. First, the man without whom I would not be writing this book. When we met, I was a swirl of random ideas — you inspired, encouraged, and sometimes forced me to put them onto a page. Without you, this book wouldn’t exist, and I would be half of the person that I am today. Second, my parents. It’s difficult to express the amount of love, support, and joy my mum and dad have brought me, especially as I’ve grown up and we’ve become friends. I am so lucky to be loved by such intelligent, passionate, and kind people. Third, my grandparents — to whom I’ve dedicated this book. My grandad, Ken Weaving, a former shop steward, was a fiercely intelligent, articulate and passionate socialist. My grandma, Doreen Weaving, who maintains that she converted him to the cause, is the toughest woman I know.

My godparents have given me love, support, and a place to escape. My brother has done his best to keep me grounded, helped along by the whole Weaving family. My best friend and roommate has dealt with my bad moods, my workaholism, and my books strewn all over the house. She has been my rock, and the first person I’ve turned to, throughout this whole process. My friends have put up my bad-tempered rants about capitalism, my frequently cancelling plans, and my tears, all whilst supporting me every step of the way. My comrades — especially Ash, Debs, Kirsty, Charlotte, Aaron, Owen, Ellie, Michael, David, Max, Wendy and Nathan — have all been there for me and stuck their necks out for me on multiple occasions. My fellow London Young Labour committee members and my fellow ward and CLP officers and members have heroically endured my appalling disorganisation. My colleagues — particularly Maeve, Laurie, Mat, Carys, Alfie, Leslie, Jade, Florri and Sofie — tolerated, and even engaged with, my polemicizing long before it emerged in written form. My bosses at both the IPPR and the New Statesman have given me all the flexibility I’ve needed to get this thing done, even when it hasn’t been convenient for them. And NEON — and especially Dan, Matt and Kev — gave me the opportunity to put my ideas out into the world.

But this book has been a collective endeavour in more ways than one. It has relied upon the direct emotional, intellectual, and psychological support given to me by friends, family, colleagues, and comrades, but it has also built on the thinking, guidance, and solidarity of a much larger movement. I have spent several years constantly reading the work of socialist thinkers, activists, and academics — many of whom I have had the extraordinary pleasure of meeting over the course of the last year — and it is to them, more than to my formal education, that I attribute my understanding of the world. I have also spent the last several years debating, campaigning, and door-knocking with some inspirational people from across the UK. In truth, being around Labour and Momentum activists has been the first time that I have really felt like I was part of anything. The greatest debt I owe is to our living, breathing, irrepressible movement that has changed the world.

There are, however, some individuals within this movement who merit particular gratitude. James Meadway has put up with me asking obscure questions about Marxist theory at all hours of the morning and has generally been my mentor (even if he would hate to be described as such). Special thanks go to James, Costas Lapavitsas (whose work has inspired so much of my thinking), Michael Jacobs and George Eaton, who read the book in its early form and provided comments. I would also like to thank Leo Panitch, Joe Guinan, Sarah McKinley, Christine Berry, Alfredo Saad-Filho, Ann Pettifor, David Graeber, Michael Hudson, Steve Keen, Adam Tooze, Laurie MacFarlane, David Rowland, Sahil Dutta, Fran Boait, Richard Kozul-Wright, Mark Seddon, Scott Lavery, Jeremy Green, Ewan

McGinety, Nicholas Shaxson, John Christensen, Michal Rozworski, Leigh Phillips, Miriam Brett, Zack Exley, Waleed Shahid, David Adler, Sarah Jaffe, Hilary Wainwright, Will Stronge, Cat Hobbes, Ronan Burtenshaw, Rebecca Long-Bailey, Laura Pidcock, Richard Burgeon, Jon Trickett, and Dan Carden — all of whom have offered me help and advice, or influenced my thinking.

Finally, Tariq. You’d hate me to say anything emotional, so I’ll simply say thanks for all the free books, booze and advice. It’s been one hell of a ride.