Great power ambition sans the attitude

Although there are people and institutions capable of articulating a strategic vision,
bureaucratic lethargy and turf battles prevent them from executing it
A reputed international weekly recently devoted a cover article to arguing that Indias quest for greatness would
be stymied by the absence of a strategic culture. Ever since George Tanhams seminal essay on Indian strategic
thought, published in 1992 by RAND, suggested the absence of strategic thinking, many writers and
commentators have weighed in, both supporting and contradicting Tanham. Interestingly, what Tanham
suggested was that India was indeed a strong cultural entity, but somehow the nature and characteristics of
that culture either prevented or avoided strategic thought. The article in the Economist (April 5, 2013) goes
much farther, and says there are many in India who write and comment on the absence of institutions capable of
giving the country strategic direction. But those in power have deliberately taken decisions to deny the country
those institutions out of departmental jealousies, lethargy or plain wrongheadedness.
Criticism of our strategic culture is not new, and to those who have worked in South Block for decades, the
history of trying to put in place procedures and institutions are most often a case of one step forward, two steps
back. Paraphrasing Rahul Gandhis speech at the CII recently, he said what is wrong in India is that as few as
5,000 people take all the decisions for a billion Indians. Are there really as many as 5,000 is the first question
that comes to mind because the number of people crippling this countrys strategic culture is less than 10.
Defence Planning Group
Between the publication of Tanhams essay in 1992 and the weeklys justifiably disparaging remarks, attempts
have been made to build institutions. The earliest attempt goes as far back as 1986 when a Defence Planning
Group was set up under a rotating three star officer with vacancies for scientists and diplomats. Since the
absence of a military input is one of the chief complaints of both Tanham and the Economist, it is bizarre to note
that the Defence Planning Group was eventually allowed to wither by the armed forces themselves and inter-
services rivalry. So the blame has to be shared pretty widely. Tanham was so bemused by the absence of
thinking beyond continental and territorial defence that he blamed both history and culture.
Historically, India was just a part of the greater British Empire, the defence of which was strategised in
Whitehall. Within the folds of the empire, India had two roles one, as provider of troops and, secondly, as a
continental command under an army Commander-in-Chief. The C-in-C therefore often saw himself as an
independent commander who chafed at the bit at being directed by a Viceroy, who according to the C-in-C,
was merely the civilian head of government. A classic instance is the creation of the present state of Iraq after
the First World War when the troops and government administration departments were sent from India, the
political direction came from Whitehall and the naval element from the C-in-C of the Far East Fleet in
Singapore. The air force element was under the land force commander. This arrangement was repeated every so
often, as to disable New Delhis independent strategic thinking and limit Indian army HQ thinking to territorial
defence. So crippling was the empires straitjacket that in 1939, in the absence of any strategic directive, New
Delhis first operational order for the Second World War was the digging of defences in the North-West frontier
against a Russian attack a replay of the great game of the previous century! Culturally, Tanham ascribed the
absence of forward planning to abstruse theories of Hindu concepts of tomorrow and time.
Since Tanhams time, India has become a nuclear weapons state, China has risen astonishingly and Pakistan has
ceased to grow and turned into a state at war with itself. The Indian armed forces have grown exponentially, but
no civilian leader, according to the Economist, has the faintest idea of how to use Indias growing military clout.
The army seems most of all to be structured for a blitzkrieg against Pakistan while the navy is preparing to
counter Chinas blue water adventurism.
The services appear to have their own strategic plans and the organisation that would centrally direct strategic
thinking the Ministry of Defence is the most distrusted by the armed forces. A ministry that could provide
a centralist view on world affairs and geopolitical initiatives the Ministry of External Affairs is described
as ridiculously puny in numbers. The sanction for larger numbers already exists but the foreign services
mandarins refuse to laterally recruit suitable candidates to get on with the job. Vacancies for foreign service
officers in the Ministry of Defence to augment their woeful ignorance go repeatedly unfilled. The Economist
has ignored the six months of happy times after George Fernandes, the Defence Minister, was retired due to a
TV sting operation, and replaced temporarily by Jaswant Singh. He inducted Arun Singh, a former Minister of
State for Defence, to head a committee to restructure higher defence management. More was achieved for
reforms during those few months than in a half century before or a decade since. The crucial reform of
integrating the service headquarters under a Chief of Defence Staff failed due to opposition from just three
individuals.
Most observers agree that a permanent hurdle to structural reforms and financial streamlining remains the
Ministry of Defence. The ministry consists of generalists who are invariably in opposition to the military whose
officers are educated for a minimum period of three years (a year every decade) on strategic thought before they
are posted in billets where they could contribute to strategy. Curiously, both Tanham and the Economist wrote
their essays on Indian strategic thought because both were investigating the possibility of India becoming a
great power. The inference from both is that the absence of a strategic culture will hamper India from punching
its weight. True, its weight is light compared to that of China but with the advantages India has going for it
the English language, democracy, a military culture and tradition, a fine navy, a small but active foreign office
it could, with the setting up of coordinating institutions, punch well above its weight. It doesnt, largely
because of bureaucratic lethargy, jealousies and turf battles, and an indifferent political class.
Non-alignment 2.0
The Economist notes that the nearest that Indias strategic community has come to writing out a vision of how
to match foreign policy with the deployment of the armed forces, whose budget today is near $ 46 bn, is the
unofficial document, Non-Alignment 2.0, written by people both inside and outside the government. The
document proves that people of the right calibre can be called upon at any time to articulate a vision but there
are an equal number of incompetents in government who will prevent the former from executing that vision.
Sadly many of them populate the Ministry of Defence and have, for instance, batted stubbornly in favour of
defence PSUs and limiting FDI in the sector to 26 per cent when it is 49 per cent elsewhere.
The result is that India, which is at the bottom of the heap in HDI, is also the worlds largest arms importer. To
paraphrase Manmohan Singh, the enemy is within. The latest attempt to restructure higher defence
management the Naresh Chandra Committee has put in a report full of sensible recommendations. It is
not public yet but it is reliably learnt that the overwhelming opposition to it comes from where else? the
Ministry of Defence.
(Raja Menon retired as Rear Admiral in the Indian Navy)





The passing of a deadline
The Right to Education Act seems suspended in a vacuum, with the government doing
virtually nothing to ensure that the norms stipulated by it were met by March 31
Three years ago, when the Right to Education came into force, there was a lot of excitement and enthusiasm
across the country. It was heralded as a historic moment; for the first time, quality norms for a range of issues
including infrastructure, teacher education, classroom transactions and assessment were laid down.
Three years on, however, as the deadline of March 31, 2013 for meeting these norms has come and gone, the
prognosis is dispiriting. The Act seems suspended in a vacuum, as policy and planning appear to operate in a
world of their own, often parallel to the mandate of the Act.
By all available evidence, RTE has failed its first exam.
ASER Report
First we had the Annual Status of Education Report (ASER) which showed yet again that learning
outcomes in government schools are not just unacceptably low, but declining, that too in the time since the RTE
Act was passed. Then came the budget and allocations to the education sector which did not budge from 3.5 per
cent of GDP despite the 6 per cent recommended by the Kothari Commission more than five decades ago and
reiterated in the Common Minimum Programme nine years ago. In fact, the actual State-wise requirements to
fully implement the RTE are still to be estimated! And finally the RTE deadline itself was accompanied by
reports of how scores of schools across the country had failed to meet the mandatory norms. And not just
private schools, or unrecognised schools, but regular government schools under the purview of the very
government that amended the Constitution making elementary education a Fundamental Right and passed an
Act that stipulated a basic set of norms that all schools must abide by.
And yet, these failures appear to have made little difference as far as policy, planning or even political posturing
are concerned.
The ASER findings were unveiled by the Minister of Human Resource Development himself; a scheme of 2500
model schools to be implemented under a Public Private Partnership format in defiance of RTE was
announced and the Central Advisory Board of Education committee decided to not extend the RTE deadline
two days after the deadline passed.
While, on the one hand, this brazen defiance of the law seems completely inexplicable, on the other, it is
completely compatible with the way basic education has been treated by successive governments since the very
beginning.
Despite the lip service paid to education in recent years, the ground reality has rarely gone beyond the rhetoric.
Even the legal stipulations do not seem to have propelled the government to act with greater responsibility. The
passage of the RTE Act was meant to reinforce the governments primary obligation towards provision of
elementary education. But neither the political class nor the bureaucracy appears to be mindful of its
responsibilities or legal obligations.
In a recent PIL, the Supreme Court, taking cognisance of the deplorable state of basic facilities in schools,
directed all State governments to ensure that the situation was rectified in accordance with RTE norms by end-
March 2013. Eighteen State governments filed affidavits claiming they had already met the norms six months
ago! Even a casual visit to government schools in any of these States will reveal the falsehood of these claims.
Now these States, along with all others who have not even filed the affidavits, stand in contempt of court in
addition to a violation of the RTE Act. It puts a huge question mark on the much-acclaimed, rights-based
approach being adopted.
Poor enforcement
In fact, the record of the government seems to suggest that while it has sought political capital from the passing
of the Act, it has done little to ensure its enforcement. Why else would it allow the deadline to pass without
even the pretext of some action? Why else would it continue to implement the Act through a Centrally-
sponsored scheme (Sarva Shiksha Abhiyan) operated through a society when the legal obligations on
enforcing the Act rest on the state? Why else would it continue to stipulate highly centralised, standardised
and inflexible financial norms when States are at different levels of RTE compliance and hence have very
different needs in terms of meeting the requirements? Why else would it fix no accountabilities within the
system and have no grievance redress mechanism so that violations can be systemically dealt with? Why else
would it give no teeth and minimal resources human and financial, not even a member in charge of education
(the only vacant spot in the Commission today) to the National Commission for Protection of Child Rights,
the agency responsible for monitoring RTE? Why else would the government make no attempt to bring the
local authorities (Panchayati Raj Institutions and urban local bodies), given huge responsibilities for
implementing and grievance redress in the Act, under its purview? Why else would it not spread awareness
about the Act and its entitlements among the people? The stipulated deadline in the Act has passed, but is there
a deadline for when we can expect some answers to these basic questions?
Body politic weaker
While educationists, activists, parents and others are still keen on making the RTE work, the body politic has
gotten weaker. Without the bulwark of institutional capacities, without a clear fixing of accountabilities, without
a robust and reliable response mechanism within State structures, the energies of the people cannot be sustained
or harnessed. The point of legal guarantees, of the rights-based approach, is to provide a structure that will
ensure there are no violations. Unfortunately, the government has yet to start creating this, even as the deadline
is over and gone. If the government has any conscience, it must treat the passing of the Act as only the
beginning of the story of provision, not the end.
(Kiran Bhatty is Senior Fellow, Centre for Policy Research)


CAD: the danger is real
The news of Indias current account deficit (CAD) touching a record 6.7 per cent of gross domestic product
(GDP) ($32.6 billion) in the third quarter of fiscal 2012-13 (October-December 2012), up from 4.4 per cent
($20.2 billion) last year, need not have surprised policymakers. That is because all economic trends have
pointed to a rise, although the magnitude was clearly beyond comprehension. Despite this, however, there have
been very few worthwhile policy responses. All that the Prime Minister and other important government
spokespersons can say is that they expect the deficit to go down in the last quarter (January-March 2013) and
end the year somewhere just above 5 per cent, still high but not alarming.
Silver lining
Senior Finance Ministry officials even see a silver lining even in this bleak scenario. After all, the CAD, though
high, has been funded through capital inflows and not through a drawdown of reserves. In fact, there has been a
small accretion of $0.8 billion to the reserves, as against a decline of $0.22 billion in the previous quarter (July-
September 2012).
Such comforting words notwithstanding, it has to be realised that the CAD is unacceptably high, far higher than
what the Reserve Bank of India (RBI) and other official forecasters say it should ideally be in the present
circumstances (between 2.5 per cent and 3 per cent of GDP).
Besides, the official explanations do not in any way minimise the structural risks arising out of a grim trade
scenario and dependence on short-term capital inflows to bridge the deficit. The CAD, defined broadly as the
excess of the countrys total imports of goods and services and transfers over the total imports under those
categories, has seldom caused so much as concern as now. Another way of estimating the CAD is to calculate
the merchandise trade deficit plus or minus invisibles and net earnings from services (such as software exports
and financial services).
Merchandise trade deficit
The primary reason for the widening of the CAD is the large merchandise trade deficit. Merchandise exports
have been flat in the third quarter. On the other hand, merchandise imports were up by 9.4 per cent, spurred
largely by imports of gold and silver. Trade deficit widened to $59.6 billion in Q3 of 2012-13 from $48.6 billion
over the same quarter in the previous year. During the period under review, net services receipts recorded a
modest increase of just over 9 per cent and net invisibles moderated. These two categories have traditionally
helped in the balance of payments (BOP); their lacklustre performance has added to the pressures.
All the above once again point to a dangerous dependence on short-term capital flows to finance the deficit.
According to the RBI, the pick-up in capital flows was mainly due to foreign portfolio investments, which rose
to 8.6 billion during Q3 of 2012-13, up from $1.8 billion in the previous year. Loans availed by banks and
corporate sector amounted to $7.1 billion. Foreign direct investment, by far the more desirable of investment
flows, declined to $2.5 billion in Q3 of 2012-13 from $2.5 billion a year earlier.
In a strategy based on expediency rather than on sound judgment the government has been doing all that it
could to make the environment conducive for short-term flows, including, especially, those going to the stock
market. These could well backfire. In many cases the government has performed a U turn to encourage such
flows, which previously they had tried to discourage.
Important message
The most important message from the BOP data for Q3 of 2012-13 is this. The dependence on short-term,
volatile portfolio flows indicates a degree of helplessness. It is not policymakers do not discern the
consequences. Such flows, essentially fuelled by ultra-loose monetary policies of the West, could just as well
reverse for any number of reasons, only a few of which are in Indias control.
Again, a revival in exports depends on the economic conditions in Europe and the U.S. There is not much India
can do. The trade policy due in the first week of April has been postponed by a few weeks amidst report of
differences between the commerce and finance ministries over the quantum of financial incentives for export
promotion.



From cynicism to trust
When the board of directors of Kasturi & Sons, publishers of this newspaper, adopted Living our Values: Code
of Editorial Values in 2011, a journalist friend of mine from Delhi was not convinced about its workability. He
felt that having a code of editorial values was akin to the election manifestoes of political parties lofty ideals
rarely implemented. His reservations were based on some ground realities savage competitive pressure, deep
inroads made by corporate houses in controlling the advertisement purse, reluctance of the media houses to
have the cover prices adjusted for inflation. He felt that this code was an interesting academic exercise.
At that time, I had no clue that one day I would be the ombudsman of this newspaper. But, now, I am in a
vantage position to ascertain whether the exercise was fruitful or not. I got my first hint that the Code was
working from readers letters. For most of them, the Code was the touchstone they used to raise questions about
the editorial content.
In the ensuing couple of years, between the adoption of the Code and now, the ground reality spelled out by my
colleague became more pronounced. The competition spread to more cities; advertisers have become more
demanding; players such as FM radio stations, digital platforms and the fast growing regional media have
successfully staked their share on the limited advertisement pie. There is a not substantial difference in the
cover pricing policy, and subsidising the price through advertisement continues to be the rule of the game. But,
Living our Values is truly alive, guiding the newspaper to remain a trusted vehicle of being a publication of
record.
Two advertisements
I would like to present two instances. Jewellers are significant advertisers during festival days, and they use
specific auspicious days like Akshaya Tritiya to do target marketing. Last year, The Hindu carried a jacket
endorsing Akshaya Tritiya. But, the Editor went on record with a signed note rejecting the endorsement
mentioned in the advertisement.
His note read: We carried a jacket on Monday in our Tamil Nadu editions that featured a message laid out
in the form of an in-house advertisement to readers on the occasion of Akshaya Tritiya on behalf of The
Hindu. Neither I, as Editor of The Hindu, nor anyone from the editorial side, was involved in the drafting of
this message. Nor did we know of, let alone approve, its contents. For the record, it is not The Hindus editorial
position that Akshaya Tritiya, an occasion that has risen to prominence only relatively recently, is one of the
most auspicious days in the Hindu religion. Nor can we possibly endorse this statement The belief that
buying gold on this day would make you prosperous throughout the year is shared by one and all or others
contained in that message.
We have now taken internal steps to ensure that advertising messages put out in the name of The Hindu are
consistent with its editorial policy and that our Code of Editorial Values, which says there is a firm line
between the business operations of the Company and editorial operations and content, is strictly adhered to by
all.
This was a very significant development. I cannot imagine many media houses that have the courage to
transparently, in a signed article, draw the delineating line between what constitutes the papers voice and what
represents the advertisers view.
The second instance happened with another high profile advertiser. When the IIPM released advertisements
claiming that The Hindu had termed it as a B-school with a human face, the paper was quick to react and drew
the attention of its readers to the illegal and unethical practice of that high-spending organisation. In a very
prominent manner, the Editor wrote: The Hindu hereby would like to make it clear to current and prospective
students of IIPM that it has not made any such editorial endorsement of the institution. We have now formally
written to IIPM asking it to refrain from repeating the claim, and putting it on notice of our intent to proceed
suitably against it if it persists in doing so.
The Hindu refused to carry that advertisement and demanded the deletion of the sentence attributing to The
Hindu. The Editors remark came as a major reiteration to many readers, including my Delhi colleague, of the
newspapers clear and unambiguous commitment to maintain its editorial integrity. When words and deeds
coalesce, cynicism gives way to enduring trust.

The Sensex and the economy




Some would have us believe that Indias leading stock index, the BSE Sensex, is passing through volatile times.
Short-term upswings are followed by sharp declines, influenced largely, we are given to understand, by the
uncertainty gripping foreign investors. Such uncertainty is also easy to explain. Gloom pervades the world
economy as Europe confronts another crisis in Cyprus and prepares for yet another elsewhere. In India, growth
has slowed, inflation is still high and threatens to accelerate, the current account deficit is at alarming levels and
political uncertainty increases in the run up to the general election a year from now.
However, the evidence on medium term volatility seems to be to the contrary. Consider Chart 1, which provides
a view of movements in the Sensex since just before the post-2003 economic boom. It shows that the Sensex
recorded an unprecedented surge starting early 2003, which took the index from 3100 in March 2003 to a
closing peak of close to 20700 at the beginning of April 2008. That remarkable run was cut off and reversed
only by the onset of the global financial crisis, which saw the Sensex slump to around 8200 by early March
2009.
Compared with this steep long-term rise, and the associated level of returns, subsequent fluctuations have been
of smaller amplitude. For example, after the crisis-induced slump, there was a quick and smart recovery after
March 2009 with the Sensex crossing the 15000 mark in June 2009. After that, the Sensex almost never fell
significantly and in fact climbed to a new peak of close to 20900 in November 2010. But even this rise, which
fuelled expectations that the index would touch new highs, is smaller than the 2003 to 2008 trend. As Chart 2
shows, the Sensex, that did not sink to anywhere near the low levels recorded prior to 2003, quickly returned to
its earlier peak, even if for a brief period.
Finally, after this recovery and despite the recent difficulties in the global economy and India, the Sensex has
never fallen below 15000, let alone even approached its post-crisis trough of 8000-plus. In sum, poor real
economy trends notwithstanding, the Sensex has fluctuated in a narrow (15000-20000) range since June 2009,
as brought out more clearly in Chart 3.
Explaining the post-2003 boom is not difficult. The government facilitated it with measures adopted from time
to time in the form of relaxations of ceilings on foreign ownership in individual industries and allowing for a
greater presence for individual FIIs and for FIIs as a group in a single firm. As per the original September 1992
policy permitting foreign institutional investment, registered FIIs could individually invest in a maximum of 5
per cent of a companys issued capital and all FIIs together up to a maximum of 24 per cent.The 5 per cent
individual-FII limit was raised to 10 per cent in June 1998.As of March 2001, FIIs as a group were allowed to
invest in excess of 24 per cent and up to 40 per cent of the paid up capital of a company with the approval of the
general body of the shareholders granted through a special resolution.This aggregate FII limit was raised to the
(often higher) sectoral cap for foreign investment in any sector as of September 2001. This expanded the scope
for foreign investment in the secondary market.
Moreover, the markets were provided a boost in the Budget for 2003-04. In his speech presenting that Budget
the Finance Minister declared: In order to give a further fillip to the capital markets, it is now proposed to
exempt all listed equities that are acquired on or after March 1, 2003, and sold after the lapse of a year, or more,
from the incidence of capital gains tax. Long term capital gains tax will, therefore, not hereafter apply to such
transactions.Long-term capital gains tax was being levied at the rate of 10 per cent up to that point of time.
This market stimulus came at a time when international conditions had also improved, and there was a global
spike in cross-border capital flows that found capital flowing in larger measure to many emerging markets.
Such policy changes in India ensured that it became a favoured investment destination at the time of this cross-
border capital flow surge. The result was the 2003 to 2008 boom in the stock markets.
It was only when there was a sudden exit of capital immediately after the crisis the index collapsed. At that
time, foreign investors, who had experienced losses at home and needed resources to cover those losses or meet
commitments that fell due, booked profits in emerging markets including India and pulled out their capital. The
net result was a sharp decline in the index. But, quite soon, the huge infusion of liquidity by central banks and
governments in the developed countries, especially the US, halted and reversed this tendency.
Emerging markets like India benefited hugely from this infusion of liquidity, inasmuch as investors accessing
near-zero interest rate capital used part of those resources to invest in asset markets in these countries. This
explains the V-shaped movement of markets in many emerging markets with the immediate post-crisis
downturn being followed by a quick recovery.
The real puzzle is why this recovery persisted when the global crisis refused to go away, the focus of the crisis
shifted to Europe and its effects began to be felt in India with greater intensity. This also coincided with a
period when developments within India were resulting in the emergence and intensification of stagflationary
tendencies. The only explanation is that, though the fiscal stimulus resorted to in countries across the globe
immediately after the onset of the 2008 crisis has not been continued because of rising fiscal conservatism,
central banks have persisted with their cheap credit and easy money policies. The most recent initiatives by the
ECB and the Federal Reserve, especially the latters announcement of a third round of quantitative easing,
involving unlimited lending against poor collateral, have kept the cheap and easy liquidity situation going in
global markets. It is this cheap money that is finding its way to developing countries like India.
However, the impact of this inflow of liquidity into countries like India is complex. What appears to be
happening is that whenever stock prices fall, investors are buying into Indian equity in the expectation that the
fall would reverse itself and offer opportunities for profit. Their investments ensure that the expected short-term
gains are realised. But the effort of investors to book profits before another downturn occurs also triggers a
subsequent downturn. But there is a medium-term floor to the prices of actively traded stocks depending since
investors soon decide there is value in buying into the lower valued stocks.
This behaviour appears to be having two effects. One is cyclical movements in stock prices in a range that
seems smaller than earlier. This occurs around a medium term (say annual) trend, in which medium and long-
term returns are low. The other is the persistence of a relatively high level of the Sensex, since there is a
temporary psychological floor to the prices of leading shares and declines in their values provide the incentive
for another speculative foray.
One fall-out of this syndrome is that there is a divergence between stock market performance and real economy
trends. Markets seem reasonably positioned even as the economy sinks. This only goes to prove once again that
the market does not reflect in any way the real fundamentals of the economy.
A PARADOX
At time when more people are eating out and newer restaurants are opening, an increasing number of
people are finding it difficult to meet their basic needs.
Increasing numbers of people in Britain are having difficulty with finding money for their basic needs,
including food. It is, of course, a reflection of serious economic problems facing the country. Inevitably, the fact
that this difficulty exists is raised in the many discussions about governmental plans aimed at reducing some
benefits. It is not at all a straightforward problem, and it is a constant reminder that the years of affluence, to
which we have become accustomed, are over.
There is a curious paradox that impinges on my thinking about this issue. It is the fact that newspapers and
television programmes devote much energy and effort, as they have done for many years, into describing and
discussing food. There are regular columnists who tickle our palates with exciting dishes. We are encouraged to
experiment with cooking, and we are encouraged to move into new culinary territory. Reviews of restaurants
appear regularly, and open up to us prospects of ever more exciting meals.
In a way, there is nothing particularly surprising about this. Over the past few decades, attitudes to food choice,
and attitudes to eating out, have changed greatly. So have the possibilities. A couple of weeks ago, my wife and
I had an excellent dinner at a very good Chinese restaurant in our village. Our (adult) children would not find
that at all newsworthy or surprising, but the possibility of eating in a good restaurant and particularly in a
good Chinese restaurant was certainly not among the choices that we would have expected when we came to
live here. Nor was it the sort of choice one would have expected in any small town, let alone a village.
Things have changed and, if I am honest, I think the changes are largely for the better. Better choices, better
variety, offer improvements to ones way of life.
Why, then, do I see a paradox? The answer is that at a time like the present, when so many people are struggling
to pay for food, the contrast between their lives and the lives and choices that so many of us now take for
granted is starkly underlined. In the old days too, there were of course people in financial difficulty and had to
be content with pretty basic food. There were, however, relatively few opportunities for anyone to explore more
exotic choices because they just did not exist. The contrast between those who were not suffering from food
shortage and those who were, was, therefore, less dramatically obvious than it is now.
It is easier to identify the paradox than to decide what, if anything, ought to be done about it. It is clearly not a
good thing in any society, in my opinion, to have huge disparities between the haves and the have-nots. All of
us, I believe, should make a real effort to be conscious of the problems facing people less fortunate than
ourselves. Some people, indeed, make real efforts to do something about it - by contributing to food banks, for
example. The recently retired Archbishop of Canterbury, Dr. Rowan Williams, now Master of a Cambridge
college, works as a volunteer with a food bank.
Perhaps the thing that everyone ought to do is to become more conscious that the disparities exist.
During World War II and for seven or eight years after it had ended there was a serious food shortage in the
United Kingdom. It was tackled by the imposition of food rationing. Everyone was in the same nutritional boat
and, for many years, what filled that boat was basic. We certainly had adequate food but it quite often seemed
boring.
Am I recalling all this to suggest that the present problems facing those finding it difficult to pay for sufficient
food ought to be tackled by reintroducing rationing? No, I am certainly not. There was a clear reason for
rationing during and after the war. The circumstances that we face now are completely different. I confess,
however, that I am not happy about a situation where many people have no real understanding of the problems
faced by growing numbers of their fellow citizens.
It is a challenge. We should surely all make an effort to understand others. We are, after all, members of the
same society.