'I don't know what you mean by "glory",' Alice said.
Humpty Dumpty smiled contemptuously. 'Of course you don't — till I tell you. I meant, "There's a nice knock-down argument for you!"'
'But "glory" doesn't mean "a nice knock-down argument",' Alice objected.
'When I use a word,' Humpty Dumpty said, in rather a scornful tone, 'it means just what I choose it to mean — neither more nor less.'
I used to like the word aspiration and be proud of my ‘aspirational working class’ background. Forced by poverty to leave school at 14, both my parents worked hard to extend their education through reading, night classes, and WEA lectures. My Dad went to university aged forty-nine and for one year he and my oldest brother were enrolled in the same faculty. They instilled in all of us the value of learning.
The word doesn’t taste so good in my mouth this week. Like Humpty Dumpty, elements within the Labour Party have captured the word ‘aspiration’ and are holding it proudly aloft as a rallying banner. They have changed the meaning of the word imperceptibly, but it’s those subtle shifts in meaning that are the most powerful. The sleight of hand is to set up a universally understood good in false opposition to another good, as Tony Blair does when he declares the Labour Party should stand ‘for ambition and aspiration as well as compassion and care’. We’ve erred too far in the direction of compassion he suggests; we need also to speak for those who are aspirational. It’s as hard to argue against as motherhood and apple pie – but I’ll give it a go.
When we read further into the Blairite argument – and there is no shortage of column inches as Party elders and leadership hopefuls shout over one another to articulate the gospel message - it seem that aspirational people are actually entrepreneurs and business owners. Now I have nothing against entrepreneurialism - heck, I own my own business. But I would challenge the notion that those who need our care and compassion may not also be aspirational.
Imagine a young person with learning difficulties who grew up in a violent home and spent ten years on the street being drug dependent. Thanks to the support from a range of agencies and her own determination, she is now drug free and a responsible tenant, bringing up her children as a single parent. Aware of her own lack of education, she earnestly wants the best for her children and does everything she can to help them learn and grow up well. Is she not aspirational?
Imagine a successful businessman who has acquired brain injury following a car accident. He suffers extreme fatigue, loss of memory and a change of personality. He loses his business, his marriage falls apart and he is dependent on benefits. Slowly he regains some limited ability and can do a few hours of voluntary work a week, helping out at a local hospice. He hopes the voluntary work will help him build his strength for returning to paid employment, but he knows it’s going to be tough. Is he not aspirational?
Imagine the woman who has struggled all her life with a severe mental illness. She has always managed to work but as she reaches middle age, her condition deteriorates and she loses her job and becomes so low she attempts suicide. Now, supported by her community mental health team, she is slowly rebuilding her confidence, but every day is a struggle as tasks that were once simple are now overwhelming. One day soon, she hopes to be able to mix socially without being overpowered by anxiety. Is she not also aspirational?
Being aspirational does not necessarily mean that we do not need or deserve the scaffolding of care and compassion that helps us to reach beyond where we are now.
'The question is,' said Alice, 'whether you can make words mean so many different things.'
'The question is,' said Humpty Dumpty, 'which is to be master — that's all.'
Humpty Dumpty smiled contemptuously. 'Of course you don't — till I tell you. I meant, "There's a nice knock-down argument for you!"'
'But "glory" doesn't mean "a nice knock-down argument",' Alice objected.
'When I use a word,' Humpty Dumpty said, in rather a scornful tone, 'it means just what I choose it to mean — neither more nor less.'
I used to like the word aspiration and be proud of my ‘aspirational working class’ background. Forced by poverty to leave school at 14, both my parents worked hard to extend their education through reading, night classes, and WEA lectures. My Dad went to university aged forty-nine and for one year he and my oldest brother were enrolled in the same faculty. They instilled in all of us the value of learning.
The word doesn’t taste so good in my mouth this week. Like Humpty Dumpty, elements within the Labour Party have captured the word ‘aspiration’ and are holding it proudly aloft as a rallying banner. They have changed the meaning of the word imperceptibly, but it’s those subtle shifts in meaning that are the most powerful. The sleight of hand is to set up a universally understood good in false opposition to another good, as Tony Blair does when he declares the Labour Party should stand ‘for ambition and aspiration as well as compassion and care’. We’ve erred too far in the direction of compassion he suggests; we need also to speak for those who are aspirational. It’s as hard to argue against as motherhood and apple pie – but I’ll give it a go.
When we read further into the Blairite argument – and there is no shortage of column inches as Party elders and leadership hopefuls shout over one another to articulate the gospel message - it seem that aspirational people are actually entrepreneurs and business owners. Now I have nothing against entrepreneurialism - heck, I own my own business. But I would challenge the notion that those who need our care and compassion may not also be aspirational.
Imagine a young person with learning difficulties who grew up in a violent home and spent ten years on the street being drug dependent. Thanks to the support from a range of agencies and her own determination, she is now drug free and a responsible tenant, bringing up her children as a single parent. Aware of her own lack of education, she earnestly wants the best for her children and does everything she can to help them learn and grow up well. Is she not aspirational?
Imagine a successful businessman who has acquired brain injury following a car accident. He suffers extreme fatigue, loss of memory and a change of personality. He loses his business, his marriage falls apart and he is dependent on benefits. Slowly he regains some limited ability and can do a few hours of voluntary work a week, helping out at a local hospice. He hopes the voluntary work will help him build his strength for returning to paid employment, but he knows it’s going to be tough. Is he not aspirational?
Imagine the woman who has struggled all her life with a severe mental illness. She has always managed to work but as she reaches middle age, her condition deteriorates and she loses her job and becomes so low she attempts suicide. Now, supported by her community mental health team, she is slowly rebuilding her confidence, but every day is a struggle as tasks that were once simple are now overwhelming. One day soon, she hopes to be able to mix socially without being overpowered by anxiety. Is she not also aspirational?
Being aspirational does not necessarily mean that we do not need or deserve the scaffolding of care and compassion that helps us to reach beyond where we are now.
'The question is,' said Alice, 'whether you can make words mean so many different things.'
'The question is,' said Humpty Dumpty, 'which is to be master — that's all.'