Twitteretter

The title of this post is a famous Margaret Thatcher quote, gleefully repeated and celebrated by her fans. Thatcher was a clear exponent of the strong leader. One that sets a course and will not be diverted. Not by difficulty, not by obstacles, but not by new information or improved analysis either. In today’s politics, you see, changing direction, because of the legacy of Thatcher and a few others, carries a huge penalty with electorates. It is politically more damaging to realise a mistake, admit it and correct it than, having realised the mistake, ignoring it and persevering on the set course, hoping to steamroll through difficulties and somehow come out at the other side, maybe not completely unscathed, but proud. It is a sort of modern homage to the plight of Odysseus, who, toyed with by the gods, sailed through endless tribulations to reach home. Sadly for us, when our leaders imitate him, our Ithaca does not only not get closer but, if anything, at times it gets further away...

Extraordinary circumstances, and I am sure readers will agree that the coronavirus pandemic qualifies as such, require extraordinary measures. If these are to be taken, public support is necessary. Our political class, however, has become used to a time of such peace and prosperity (in our First World cocoons) that allowed them to get away with confrontational, tactical politics, focused on short term political gain in detriment not only of political opponents but, if necessary, of large swathes of the population. Political thinking has become accustomed to short term electioneering, regardless of consequences, invariably mild and forgiving. But this time is over. The coronavirus pandemic heralds a new age of global challenges, with climate change, extreme inequality and people displacement hot at its heels. The arrogance of Teflon leaders and their advisers will not do in this new playing field. Current times need society building, statesman like politics back, if we are to survive...

  This post is written in the aftermath of Wales’ rugby team’s comprehensive defeat by France at a November test match. The mechanisms to cope with disappointment our brain employs are fascinating. Victory needs no analysis, just an elated ‘We were great’, and unfettered wallowing in the rerunning of events, over an over, for a further endorphin kick. But defeat… Defeat ferries us on the turbulent waters of the Stages of Bereavement, which I have written about previously. To arrive at the last stop, Acceptance, and after the initial, unabated Grief, we must control our Anger and analyse, dissect, in search of a justification which makes the disappointment bearable. Victory turns sport into joy, whilst defeat turns it into analytical endeavour. Where victory brings leisure, defeat brings hard labour. Does regular defeat form character in a way that victory does not? This is so far an unchallenged, fresh thought, but should employers be asking, without fail, what team do you support?...

The Chinese virus. The Eastern European benefit claiming immigrant. The hooded black gang member. The border breaching, dinghy equipped refugee. What do they all have in common? They are all invented monsters, sketched to elicit an emotional response and divert our focus from the real issues. They are all images conjured up by those responsible to avert our gaze from the realisation that they are not fulfilling the duty we have commended to them, in some cases in hopeless, misguided wishful thinking. In the US, UK and some Spanish regions, the Chinese virus, a natural phenomenon vested, with just that toponymical adjective, with intention and geopolitical purpose, is used to cover up the syphoning off of millions of our taxes in corrupt supply contracts and failure doomed service contracts. It is easy, for those most emotional amongst us, to fall for this, to stare at the mirage, in vacuous self-righteousness, and let ourselves be driven, unwitting victims, by that imaginary focal poin...

The coronavirus outbreak and our society’s struggles to control it provide ample material for this literary endeavour. Last night, I became embroiled in a discussion about the draconian Chinese measures to control the outbreak. It was not long before QR codes, anonymity and personal freedoms were at the conversation’s centre. The narrative, you see, is that by using QR codes which locate us and check for infection exposure we relinquish our freedoms to an unacceptable level. That is, of course, a one sided view of freedom. Should my right to illusory anonymity, which I willingly surrender to major social media corporates, be defended in detriment of my neighbours’ freedom to leave their houses without fearing for their lives? We have, in the West, built altars to personal freedoms, whilst abandoning the civic duties which helped us overcome the great challenges of the past. From this viewpoint, we are decadent and, as one of my interlocutors put it, faced with this virus, cannon fodder...

I must be honest, coronavirus has been a godsend for me, despite contracting it early on, in March, and being pretty sick for a while. Before, it, my average week involved ten hours of driving and four flights, on top of long work hours, to the detriment of environment, health, family life, personal fitness and spare time. Since the pandemic started, I stay at home most of the time, have replaced car with bike, airplanes with running shoes, airport food with home cooked meals and security queues with good literature. I’ve even found the time to dust off my Twitteretter project. It would be easy, in this circumstance, to ignore the plight of the great majority, the coronavirus losers, to rejoice at the new state of affairs and wish its prolongation. But what is being lost is real lives, and livelihoods, and my previous pains were, after all, my choice. This is a case in which we should all understand the stark choice between our own good and the common good and choose, wisely, the latte...

I had a conversation yesterday about the morality of denying poor children free school meals during half term with an indignant, rather beautiful, interlocutor. Her fury was directed at the immorality of such decision by the UK Conservative government and those who support them. But this, more than a moral question, is a perception question. The great majority of those denying school meals don’t want children to starve. The problem is that they have bought into a narrative in which parents can indeed afford to feed their children and, by receiving free school meals, will be able to divert money to other uses, fags, drink, gambling, etc. Framed this way, the decision is no longer immoral. Sadly, the assumption is far off the mark. Many poor households don’t make those indulgences. Some others may prioritise them over children’s nurture. When you imagine, or believe, an alternative narrative from the comfort of your own home, you risk making horrifying decisions with the best intentions...