Public failure and Superdemocracy
The extraordinary failure of the public sector in Britain, despite massive funding by the Labour government, needs some explanation.
The poster child for this disaster is Baby P, who died at the hands of monsters who were meant to protect him. The Social Services department charged with preventing it, failed so completely that no confidence can be placed in any similar organization anywhere in the country.
The people in charge barefacedly claimed they “followed procedure”, as if procedure were their only duty, not actual child protection. Failure of the procedure was the fault of politicians, not their own. Unhappily, that is mostly true.
The appalling rash of incompetence across most of Britain’s public sector, involving the police, child protection agencies, exam boards … and many other examples, highlights the need for a total reform of how Britain is governed.
Superdemocracy is an idea I had a long while ago while musing on the optimum hierarchy for any organization. It’s really a variation on meritocracy, so will be dismissed by followers of the postmodern tendency.
Imagine if you will the billions of decisions taken daily in businesses, agencies, governments, and other organizations up and down the country. Most of them will be made at nodal points where power has settled and accumulated over time, and where empires are ruthlessly defended. In other words, they will be taken well above the level of optimum efficiency — the Point of Maximum Competence.
A little thought reveals that almost all decisions are made at points where the decision-takers are not fully aware of the complexities of the task. In today’s technical society, that disjunction is growing all the time.
If each decision is depicted as a small arrow, it’s not hard to visualize most of them pointing downward, albeit by a tiny amount. Day after day, these billions of small decrements add up to a massive efficiency deficit, which can only be supported by vast quantities of public money propping up the whole edifice. They will also need statistical fallacies to claim success where failure is the norm.
Small businesses, by contrast, develop the expertise to avoid this tendency or they die, which is why they are usually the most dynamic elements in any economy.
Big businesses become more like governments as they mature, even creating social security and foreign affairs departments — look at Google and Microsoft.
But government is the principal problem. In the UK, central government operates the highly technical National Health Service, with predictably dismal, and costly, results.
Government also runs the State schools, transport and other big areas of public concern. It now appropriates getting on for 50pc of national income and employs 25pc of the workforce. Let’s call that, Decremental Drainage. The losses are huge and ongoing.
Governmental decisions are taken at the Level of Minimum Competence. In the UK, we also have the even more remote European level in Brussels — the Level of Maximum Incompetence. Why would any decisions, beyond essential cross-border issues, ever be sent to Brussels?
Conjure up a vision of decisions being taken much further down the food chain at the point where all the complexities and variations of the particular case are fully appreciated. Imagine all those billions of arrows pointing upwards by a small increment.
Jump forward a year or so and listen to that faint, distant rumbling of a tidal wave just visible on the horizon. It’s a tidal wave of MONEY. In the public sector that would translate as COMPETENCE, and hence lower public debt.
Look at any successful operation and you’ll see decision-making at the Point of Maximum Competence, or quite near to it. Examine any failing organization and you’ll discover decisions being made well above those levels by people miserably ensconced in positions of conceit and self-delusion. There is no exception to this rule. Decisions, like cream in a milk bottle, will always rise to the top.
All decisions therefore should be taken at the Point of Maximum Competence. The CEO role should comprise little more than shaking the milk bottles all day long.
Superdemocracy and representative democracy
Representative democracy, our standard political institution in the West, is vital for two reasons:
1. It spreads decision-making thinly, ensuring that power doesn’t concentrate in too few hands, and
2. It allows ordinary people to feel they are represented in the highest taxing and lawmaking councils of the land.
Point 1, of course, is easily bypassed by determined politicians with a decent majority in Parliament. Elective dictatorship is a curse of the British parliamentary system, caused mainly by “the Sovereignty of Parliament” — but that’s another story.
As Churchill may well have implied, you wouldn’t appoint a CEO of a major organization by a kind of X Factor televised beauty parade. “Democracy,” he said, “is a bad form of Government, but it’s better than any of the others.”
We have to recognize that most politicians are rank amateurs at what they do — and it shows. Seizing on a dangerously-small stock of information and experience, while being ignorant of the complexities of the case, they often make huge, irreversible blunders paid for by the rest of us.
Clearly, representative democracy is necessary. But it needs to be modified still further to limit the amount of decision-making available to the often hick-town amateur actors who rise to the top in the election process.
Using Superdemocracy as the principle of governance across a whole society would naturally rob the dilettantes of power and add a huge efficiency increment to a country’s earning power.
Simply passing power downwards — or sideways, in the case of “devolution” — is not enough. A root and branch examination of decisions, and who takes them, is vital to rebalance the system.
David Cameron, Iain Duncan Smith, and the next Conservative Government should put constitutional change on its agenda as a matter of urgency.
John Evans


I’ve spent a lot of time this week thinking about Energy Analysis, which is a central part of the 
In developing my forthcoming book, Superdemocracy — The New Art of Corporate Governance, I’ve been looking closely at the dream of synergy and the reality of particularity. 


