Moral Maze – Détails, épisodes et analyse

In recent weeks tens of thousands of protesters have taken to the streets in Spain’s most popular tourist destinations. From Málaga to Mallorca, Gran Canaria to Granada, locals are revolting against what they see as the hollowing out of their communities with the buying up of properties to turn them into short-stay holiday lets for people they argue don’t respect their locality, culture or language. UNESCO has described the situation as "totally out of balance".

On one level this is an argument about economics, but the implications are profoundly moral. People shouldn’t feel like second-class citizens in their own towns, but we also recognise the freedom to move, rest and discover. The affordability of travel makes mass tourism possible, but it’s lamented by those who see it as selfish, narcissistic and damaging to native cultures and the environment. And yet travel supposedly broadens the mind and the soul – a cultural exchange that can be a catalyst for self-improvement, make us more empathetic, and provide a livelihood for host communities.

Should foreign tourism be discouraged? Or if it’s mass tourism we’re worried about, what can we do about it without holidays becoming an elitist pursuit?

Producer: Dan Tierney Assistant producer: Ruth Purser

Panel: Giles Fraser Sonia Sodha Ash Sarkar Tim Stanley

Witnesses: Guillem Colom-Montero Jim Butcher Anna Hughes Emily Thomas

The past week of brutish, hate-filled riots has been a disturbing time for Britian’s minority communities. What started as a protest against the murder of three little girls in Southport has swept the country for days, fuelled by the spread of mis-information on social media.

The cause of the anger is starkly contested. For some, they are racist far-right agitators and opportunist thugs, whipped up by populist politicians and commentators. For others they represent a deeper unease about successive immigration and social policies which have left people feeling ignored, marginalised, even despised by politicians and mainstream media. The ideological divide is between those who see ‘diversity as strength’ and those who think unlimited tolerance breeds its own intolerance.

For all the images of burning cars, racist graffiti and violent looting, there is another side to the story: those who help in the clear up, who show solidarity with their Muslim neighbours, and who make clear their opposition to racist hatred.

What should we make of the riots? And, if there is more that unites us than divides us, what should we be doing to improve relations between communities?

Producer: Dan Tierney Assistant Producer: Ruth Purser

Chair: Michael Buerk

Panel: Ash Sarkar Konstantin Kisin Mona Siddiqui Tim Stanley

Witnesses: Matt Goodwin Ashraf Hoque Adrian Hilton Kieran Connell

The Legacy Act in Northern Ireland provides a conditional amnesty for people who committed crimes during the Troubles, as part of a broader process of reconciliation. It’s an attempt to draw a line under events of the past, but it’s generated anger among the families of some victims, who feel they’ll be denied justice. When things go wrong, we need to find people to blame. Who’s responsible? Who should be punished? But might we do better if we were prepared to blame less – prioritising the truth, and forgive more? It's been proposed that the NHS adopts a no-blame system where staff don’t lose their jobs if they admit a failure, so the NHS learns quickly from its mistakes. The “no-blame culture” idea already exists in parts of the US aviation industry where people are encouraged, even praised, for owning up to mistakes that could cost lives. If blame means disgrace and the end of a career, it’s hardly surprising that people hide the truth about their own failure. How many of us would admit it quickly, if we discovered that a mistake at work had led to terrible consequences? More forgiveness might lead to greater openness and honesty. It could make it easier to avoid mistakes being repeated. But is it moral to forgive serious wrongdoing? Where is the justice in that? Surely the fear of blame is a powerful incentive for us all to do our jobs properly and avoid mistakes. Do we need more forgiveness – or less?

Presenter: Michael Buerk Producer: Jonathan Hallewell Assistant Producer: Ruth Purser Editor: Tim Pemberton

By November, 1 million young people in the UK will be unemployed, according to a report out this week from the newly-launched Alliance for Full Employment. It has the backing of the former Prime Minister and Chancellor Gordon Brown, who warned of a “lost Covid generation” of young people with no prospects and nothing to do. The cost, he says, is more than just a financial one: “It destroys self-worth; it hurts family life; it shatters communities”. So what should our moral obligation be to this generation? A parallel has been drawn with the post-war period which saw the birth of the Welfare State. While there is widespread support for short-term financial help, there are those who caution against what they see as writing off an entire generation as ‘lost’, or institutionalising state dependency; they believe that the pandemic has merely accelerated inevitable economic change from which a brighter future can emerge. There are many young people who don’t share that optimism, and point to how the Covid crisis has exposed pre-existing health and wealth inequalities, which, for them, raises bigger questions about the morality of global capitalism. This is the moment, they argue, to change capitalism so that it focuses on what humans really want and need, and to actively promote the things we value beyond financial success and economic usefulness. Capitalism’s supporters, however, see our quality of life as being intrinsically bound up with markets and economic growth. For them the moral response to Covid is to kick start the consumer boom and allow people the freedom to make money unconstrained. Is it time for a radical challenge to unbridled capitalism for sake of the young, or is the ‘invisible hand’ still the best way to get a leg up? With Grace Blakeley, Ian Goldin, Daniel Pryor and Jamie Whyte.

Producer: Dan Tierney.

A damning report by the Independent Inquiry into Child Sexual Abuse describes a culture of deference in the Church of England which meant that perpetrators were allowed to hide and, when exposed, were often given more support than their victims. This was a scandal in which the “moral authority of clergy was widely perceived as beyond reproach”. This pattern of behaviour and cover-up is shocking but depressingly familiar. Following decades of such revelations, there is a growing belief that Britain’s churches have lost all moral credibility as a result of their repeated inability to practice what they preach and get their house in order. Others point out that, while reparations are needed, all institutions – whether religious or secular – are made up of human beings who are capable of terrible crimes, and that the good done by organised religion in tackling poverty, comforting the bereaved and showing strong leadership on some of the key moral issues of the day, should not be overlooked. Whether or not such institutions still command moral authority, formal religious affiliation is nevertheless in decline. Is this to be welcomed or lamented? For many people, rules-based religion has had its day. They see the churches as being out of step on many progressive issues like gender equality and same-sex marriage; they look elsewhere for sources of morality, or they see morality, faith and spirituality as subjective and personal. Others, meanwhile, still see religious institutions as the bedrock of a cohesive society; an inherited, shared source or moral and spiritual guidance, spanning centuries. They caution against the jettisoning of absolute moral rules and view the belief that we all have our own ‘truths’ and ways of knowing as deeply unhealthy. With Dr Ed Condon, Rt Rev Philip North, Prof Francesca Stavrokopoulou and Rev Stephen Trott.

Producer: Dan Tierney.

Donald Trump claims to have a better understanding of coronavirus following his own diagnosis and treatment. In a video message he said, "I learned it by really going to school. This is the real school. This isn't the let's read the books school. I get it and I understand it.” There are those who believe that directly experiencing a social issue makes for better, more empathic, political decision-making. Critics of the President’s handling of the crisis, however, would argue that it should not have taken a threat to his own health for him to “get it”, and that empathy is something you’ve either got or you haven’t. This has wider implications; “lived experience” is a central tenet of social justice. It has become an established part of the way we interact, debate and reason in the public square. Is there something irreplaceable about experiencing what others merely intellectualise about? Should lived experience play a greater role in policy-making? It is often argued that someone’s opinion lacks legitimacy if they have not been directly affected by the issue at hand – whether poverty, racism or disability – and that it is often through emotional human stories that these issues can be truly tackled. Others believe that while subjective experience can illuminate a problem, it can also cloud moral judgment and should not be presented at the expense of objective evidence. Moreover, the idea that only certain people are allowed to opine about particular subjects, some say, is potentially divisive and dangerous. To what extent should the lived experience of a person give them moral authority? With Alan Johnson, Prof. Jonathan Portes, Ash Sarkar and Prof. Sharon Wright.

Producer: Dan Tierney.

The past five months have turned our lives upside down. In the early days of the lockdown, idealists saw the pandemic as an opportunity for moral improvement; they thought it would reinforce our shared values and confirm our common humanity. As it has turned out, Covid-19 has not been the great leveller they were hoping for. You could argue that, on the contrary, it has taken our social inequalities and made them worse, adding a greater danger of death to the burden already borne by the most disadvantaged. It has escalated the culture wars and eroded our collective trust in authority and in each other. Optimists still see opportunities for a better world, as long as we draw the right lessons from this unsettling experience. It may have things to teach us about the right balance between social responsibility and individual freedom, between amateurism and expertise, between community rootedness and global collaboration, or between the nation’s wellbeing and the health of its economy. In this 30th birthday edition of the Moral Maze, each of our four panellists will propose one moral principle, relevant to the crisis, that they believe would serve us well in a post-Covid world. With Lord Andrew Adonis, Professor Linda Bauld, Ross Clark and Geoff Norcott.

Producer: Dan Tierney.

Our normally bustling cities have been eerily quiet for months. It’s reminiscent of the post-apocalyptic horror film, ‘28 Days Later’. The lockdown is proving costly; Westminster Abbey has lost more than £12 million in revenue this year and is set to lay off one in five of its staff. Theatre bosses say they must reopen without social distancing in time for Christmas or face oblivion. Restrictions are beginning to ease but for many cafes, pubs, shops, clubs and restaurants, the pandemic could be terminal. Museums, galleries, churches and office developments will struggle to justify their continued existence; should they be bailed out by the taxpayer? Perhaps each of us has a moral duty to head uptown on a shopping spree, take in a show and dine out? Yet this is about more than jobs and tourism; it raises bigger questions about the value we put on cities. If a ghost town is sad, a dead city is surely a tragedy. Since ancient Athens, cities, for many, have been the cultural jewels in civilisation’s crown, creative cauldrons of multicultural mingling and springboards to success. Others cite London, for example, as a social, cultural and economic drain on the life of our country. They believe that declining big cities give us an opportunity to revive towns, to end the suburban commuter crawl, beef up provincial culture, restore lost industries, embrace home-working and cut carbon emissions. Are big cities an unquestionable moral good, worth preserving in their current state? Or, in the new post-Covid world, is there a better way of organising the way we live? With Richard Burge, Paul Chatterton, Tom Cheesewright and Dr Jonathan Rowson.

Producer: Dan Tierney.

Campaigners are calling for an 'empire-neutral' public honour to reward front-line coronavirus workers in the Queen’s birthday honours list this autumn. It’s thought that some nominees will refuse to accept the traditional Order of the British Empire (OBE). The Black Lives Matter protests have sharpened the debate about our colonial past. Oxford professor Nigel Biggar has suggested that academics now put their careers at risk if they say anything positive about the British Empire. It’s an important moment for education, but the issue has become toxic. There’s general agreement that most British citizens have for too long been ignorant of the dark and shameful parts of their history. But was the Empire, as many passionately contest, predominantly a system of racism, slavery and exploitation? Other historians - while not disputing the violence and cruelty that disfigured the imperial project - point to the advances in health, education, the rule of law and economic prosperity that it brought to many parts of the world. How should we weigh up the transgressions and the triumphs of the past? Is it helpful to mark the Empire on a moral balance sheet with ‘shame’ and ‘pride’ columns? Does the obsession with viewing Britain’s history as either glorious or heinous stoke present-day hostility between identity groups? Or, since many British citizens are children of empire and their ancestry is woven into our collective tapestry, should we all focus instead on learning more about our shared past, warts and all? With Professor Nigel Biggar, Dr Nadine El-Enany, Janan Ganesh and Professor Alan Lester.

Producer: Dan Tierney.

Universities are counting the cost of COVID-19. They’ve lost revenue from international students, they’re struggling for investment and some of them are finding it hard to meet their pension commitments. As many as 13 of them may no longer be financially viable, according to the Institute for Fiscal Studies. The question of whether or not cash-strapped universities should be bailed out is moral as well as financial. It summons conflicting arguments about the social value of these institutions and the role they have in wider education. In the 1970s and 1980s between 8% and 19% of school-leavers went on to higher education; today it’s 50%. Should we be proud that at least half our young adults are engaged in self-directed learning? Some say yes, it’s a moral achievement and well worth holding on to. Others observe that whereas we may now have more graduates than ever, never before have their qualifications been worth so little. How we view universities has implications for schools, where hitting grade targets is the de facto measure of success. The pandemic has exposed the weakness of this approach, according to its critics, because it relies too heavily on testing as an end in itself. While some decry the lockdown as a disaster for a ‘lost generation’ of young people, others see it as a once-in-a generation opportunity to re-think not just how we’re educating our children but what education should be aiming to achieve. With Nick Hillman, Sir Anthony Seldon, Niamh Sweeney and Tim Worstall.

Producer: Dan Tierney.