Fans of democracy tend to have one big problem: the voters. Yes, they love the idea of voting. But they don’t much like the people who vote. Often, they see them as dim, susceptible and prone to violent hatred.
Well, it’s not entirely untrue — but I wish people would be more honest about it. For example, the government has committed to publishing data on the nationalities of foreign criminals in Britain. The government already publishes statistics that break down crime rates according to ethnicity, so this is not all that groundbreaking, but commentators are already up in arms. The heavy implication of their distress is that while citizens can be trusted to vote, they cannot be trusted to know what is happening in their country.
“I don’t know what else this is designed to do but feed hatred,” says James O’Brien on LBC. What does it say about advocates of mass migration and multiculturalism that they know these numbers will be unhelpful to their cause? Why should they, of all people, suspect that the data will “feed hatred”? If, as a fan of England’s cricket team, I feel uncomfortable about sharing its batting and bowling averages, that suggests that I am a pretty insecure supporter. Perhaps I have some thinking to do about the state of the team.
Actually, the data that we have suggests that it won’t all be bad news for liberals. Yes, some nationalities — like Albanians, and Afghans, and Somalians — are likelier than native Britons to commit crimes. But some nationalities — including Germans, and Sri Lankans and the Chinese — appear to be less likely than native Britons to commit crimes. None of these statistics should be the sole determinants of your political opinions. But they are what they are.
Haplessly, O’Brien attempts to dismiss the implications of the data. “Are they going to publish the fact that the massive majority of crimes in this country are committed by non-foreigners?” He asks. As others have noted, O’Brien seems unaware of the phrase “per capita”, or, in English, “per person”. If I’m late to work five times in a week and my six colleagues are each late one time, it’s no excuse for me to say that the majority of latenesses have been committed by others. Similarly, Algerian migrants in the UK commit a smaller proportion of crimes in Britain than British citizens, but Algerian migrants are still a lot likelier to commit crimes than British people.
That doesn’t mean that there is nothing to O’Brien’s point. If there were five Sammarinese people in Britain and each of them was a murderer, that would not mean that the state should put immense resources towards ending the crime wave from San Marino. But it might mean that the government should be careful when it comes to migrants from Fellini Airport. (Note: this example is completely fictional and should not be used to judge the fine men and women of San Marino.)
“I’m struggling to think of a … benefit that will come from publishing these figures,” says Iain Dale, also on LBC. Firstly the stats will help us to understand the world — and understanding the world is good. Secondly, they will inform people’s outlook on immigration. Britain has always been more and less open to different countries and the proportion of criminals among newcomers seems like an important factor. Thirdly, they will help people to appreciate the challenges of different demographics. If my fictional Sammarinese community has unique problems with crime, that should inform how institutions address their circumstances.
Dale feels icky about the inegalitarian implications of the statistics. He does not really understand, though, how to rationalise his distaste. So, he tosses out the complete non-argument that Labour would oppose this decision if Suella Braverman or Priti Patel was implementing it. Okay? Who cares? Perhaps they would be wrong to do so?
The fact that we have to accurately understand the statistics is not an argument against publishing the statistics
Now, I’m going to do O’Brien and Dale’s job for them and make the point that statistics have to be put into context. Otherwise, even accurate data can be misused. For example, hardcore anti-Semites often brandish statistics about the high representation of Jewish people among early communists. These statistics are not wrong. But if you publish these statistics without acknowledging that communism was a coalition of the fringes that disproportionately attracted all kinds of ethnic minorities, you get a flawed perspective. No one talks about the Latvian Question.
Similarly, when the statistics on nationality and crime are published, it will be worth remembering, for example, that immigrant populations are often far younger, on average, than the native population. Younger people commit a lot more crime than older people, so even if the average man from Nationality X is likelier to be a criminal than the average man from Nationality Y, that doesn’t mean that this is necessarily applicable to the average 22-year-old from each demographic.
But the fact that we have to accurately understand the statistics is not an argument against publishing the statistics. The fact that we have to be careful with fire doesn’t mean that we should ban matches. (Though give Keir Starmer a chance and he might well try.)
Our commentators appear to think that Britons are a statistic away from conducting pogroms — the civilisational equivalent of pitbulls who go berserk when they hear a door opening. But perhaps this is not the only reason. Perhaps they just don’t want statistical proof that their rosy image of multicultural Britain is a fantasy. Acknowledging different rates of crime between different demographics is not very “London 2012 Olympics Opening Ceremony” after all. But journalism should be focussed on what is true — not on what is pleasant to believe.
