Principles and virtue-signalling

 

Principled stands are all very well, and something for which politicians are generally happy to be credited. Until, that is, the cost of taking such a stand is perceived to outweigh the advantages gained. We saw it in Starmer’s ‘principled stand’ against the US bombing campaign in Iran, which was principled until he decided that allowing the US to use UK bases for ‘purely defensive’ bombing raids (an oxymoron if ever there was one) was a less costly option. And he’s never explained exactly how the purpose and target of each bombing raid was verified to determine whether it met the unspecified criteria for being ‘purely defensive’ – the suspicion remains that the ‘principled stand’ amounted to making a grand statement and then turning a blind eye.

Starmer also took a ‘principled stand’ over Ukraine, backing strong sanctions against unwarranted Russian aggression. Until unwarranted US aggression against Iran caused a potential lack of jet fuel and diesel, at which point the principles got lost. Principles which last only until those espousing them conclude that they are costing themselves too much aren’t really principles at all; they’re more about virtue-signalling.

Whether sanctions actually achieve very much is another question entirely. The theory is that by denying a country access to goods from outside the country and denying that country access to markets for its own goods, then pressure is placed on the economy to such an extent that the government can no longer sustain itself and must collapse/ surrender/ stop a war (delete as applicable). The truth of the proposition depends on three assumptions. The first is that the country being sanctioned cannot sustain itself entirely on the basis of its own resources and productive capacity, the second is the neoliberal economic dogma that the limiting factor on any government’s actions is the amount of money available to it, and the third is that all other countries buy into the sanctions regime.

In the case of Russia, none of those three assumptions are valid. Russia may not have the climate to grow certain crops, which might limit the population’s dietary choices (although after decades of Soviet rule, that might not be as novel as one might think), but the country’s resources are vast and varied, and they have the people and skills to exploit them. As long as they don’t need foreign currency, the idea that the money supply is somehow limited is a myth anyway: the constraint on government action is the availability of real resources, not the means of exchange to buy them. And in any event, there are significant other powers prepared to ignore the sanctions regime. Sanctions have the ring of the old adage, which runs ‘something must be done, this is something, we must do this’.

The conclusion – that sanctions are largely symbolic statements by those applying them, and little more than irritations to those to whom they are applied – is depressing. Failure to recognise that fact is even more so – it simply encourages people to continue to pursue a failed path. There is no quick or easy solution. Universal adherence to agreed international law is our only hope in the long term, but achieving it is another matter entirely. Perhaps we never will, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try. In the meantime, pretend principles achieve little except to divert attention from the real issue.