Public goods

Once upon a time, the concept of the “public good” carried a noble meaning. German philosopher Immanuel Kant further developed the original conception of a public good, building upon the ideas of Plato and Aristotle.  His definition emphasised the importance of having a society that understood the importance of ethics, moral laws and natural philosophy. These areas of knowledge would allow individuals to become ‘good and harmonious members of society’. Society would be improved by the elevation of its people, features of modernity.

In medieval times, the concept was infused with religious conviction, emphasising truth and the dissemination of divine wisdom along with notions of a conjugal society. In both traditions, the public benefited; they were made better through the instillation of knowledge and the opportunity to choose virtue. With this ‘enlightenment vision’, political thinkers believed that society would flourish through reason, choice, individual liberty and shared values. In this way, a public good often draws to mind things like education, opportunities to develop talents, art galleries and museums.  

A good example of a public good in this older, nobler sense is higher education. At its best, higher education gives people the tools to think critically, gain knowledge, and make well-informed decisions about their lives. It fosters rational thought and intellectual independence, essential components of a flourishing, self-governing society. By removing barriers to access to education, we empower individuals to grow not just economically, but morally and culturally. In essence, they are taught to fish, encouraged to explore, question, and reach their own conclusions. 

In contemporary economics, a public good is defined in sterile terms - a good that is non-rivalrous and non-excludable. With this definition, there naturally came two unavoidable consequences: the ‘free rider’ problem and the concept that individuals want the government to remove all negative externalities from existence. If people can benefit without paying, the argument goes, the state must step in. If certain market behaviours produce harm, the state must correct them. The term became enmeshed in political strategy and willpower.

By merging the understanding of a public good with political strategy, we run into a not so surprising issue - paternalism. Two classic problems arise. First, the state begins to treat adults like children, not capable citizens with judgment and agency, but as dependents who must be nudged, managed, or corrected for their own good. The government starts to believe it alone can define what constitutes a public good and how people must interact with it, without discussion or consent.

Here lies the second issue. The most neutral logic of the free rider problem has become a blank cheque for control. Politicians are no longer educating or giving people a say on how to identify, save, and preserve public goods. Instead, they decide what they are, how they work, and how we must interact with them, with limited discussion. Taxpayers have gone from enlightened participants to managed subjects, who don't need to be looped in or fully informed. Society has suffered a lack of autonomy due to the limited knowledge that they have. The present economic understanding is rooted in control and restriction, without any further understanding. We know two categories: good or bad, depending on the government’s classification. 

There’s a fundamental distinction between Kant and the contemporary economic understanding. For Kant, human beings were equal individuals, endowed with natural rights. Any laws created allowed the government to treat people equally without depriving them of freedom or autonomy. Crucially, Kant’s modernity philosophy aimed to raise everyone up rather than reduce everyone to the lowest common denominator in the name of manageability or equality.

This shift in the conception of public goods, from empowering individuals to managing them, was not sudden. It crept in through state-backed institutions that claimed to act on the public’s behalf.

Take the BBC. Its first Director-General, Lord Reith, saw broadcasting as a moral force: to inform, educate and uplift the people. It was paternalistic, yes, but idealistic too. The aim was not just entertainment, but improvement. Yet even this well-meaning model marked a departure from the Enlightenment vision. It assumed that virtue and knowledge would be dispensed from above, rather than cultivated from within. The state became not just the guarantor of opportunity, but the guardian of taste, judgment, and values. And over time, that idealism gave way to bureaucracy and control.

One of the most effective tools in this quiet shift of power has been the quango. These quasi-autonomous non-governmental organisations now run vast swathes of public life, from education and health to climate and culture, all under the banner of the public good. Yet they operate beyond the reach of democratic accountability. Largely funded by taxpayers, staffed by unelected officials, and often shielded from scrutiny, quangos allow ministers to claim action while sidestepping responsibility. “That’s not our department” has become a common refrain. The quango will see you now, if you can ever work out who and how to contact them.

Take Natural England. This quango wields enormous power over land use under the banner of environmental protection - an undeniable public good. But it answers and consults with no one footing their bills. In Cornwall, it declared Penwith Moors a Site of Special Scientific Interest (SSSI) and imposed 25 strict controls known as Operations Requiring Natural England’s Consent (Ornecs). Local Cornish farmers suddenly need to apply for permission to carry out basic practices like managing livestock, using vehicles, spreading manure - the list goes on. 

These outraged farmers didn’t take it lying down. At a public meeting in St Ives, they spoke up but were ultimately ‘rejected, neglected and ignored’. Even MPs were quick to point out that “not a single organisation on the moor was consulted” before restrictions were enforced. Even elected representatives struggled to intervene. A textbook example of quango power. It’s sweeping, disrupting and ultimately insulated from democratic challenge.

Here lies the irony, the institutions meant to serve the public good now withhold knowledge, rather than share it. They issue directives, not dialogue. They obscure, rather than illuminate. In place of moral clarity or educational uplift, we get jargon-stuffed reports, bland stakeholder engagement strategies or, in some cases, nothing at all. Taxpayers foot the bill, but are increasingly shut out of the process. Quangos operate at a distance, insulated from scrutiny and accountability. When the hard questions come, ministers can simply shrug and point elsewhere.

The Enlightenment vision of the public good, which emphasises the role and value of the individual and the responsibility of government to protect and further the rights of individuals, has been lost and quietly displaced. In its place is a system designed to control and manage. It's taxpayers who pay, and the bureaucrats who decide. 

Perhaps we need a neo-cameralist understanding of public goods, one where the state remains responsible for order and provision, but where authority is constantly checked by those who fund it. If public goods are to be legitimate, they must be transparent, accountable, and shaped by the people they claim to serve. They must also nurture and illuminate the people that they serve. That means shifting from a model of quiet control to one of civic participation and enlightenment, where taxpayers aren't treated as passive subjects but as active custodians of the common good.

Joanna Marchong