Number crunching

£12 billion on a woefully shambolic, utterly ineffective, track and trace system, when the one thing most of the scientific/medical community were agreed upon in March was that Track, Trace and Isolate was going to be key to stopping, or at least slowing, the spread of the virus.

£12 billion.

It's a tricky number to get your head round. Just another huge figure, lost among many other huge figures of government spending. So let's have a go...

£12 billion is more than the entire annual budget for England's GP services.

£12 billion is at least 50% more than the entire annual budget for the Ministry of Justice. 

£12 billion is the combined annual budget of the Foreign and Commonwealth Office (FCO), Department for Culture, Media and Sport (DCMS) and the Department for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs (DEFRA) (2018-19 figures).

So, it would seem that one could potentially do quite a lot with £12 billion. Which makes it all the more impressive that we* have managed to implement a system that only contacts at best 80% of those who test positive, and only reaches 60% of their contacts.

Just for fun, I wondered what else we could have done with those sums of money.

There are approximately 43 million people of working age (16-64) in this country. 

If we employed 1 in every 1000 people as contact tracers, on a full-time salary of £20,000 per annum, that would still only cost £860 million. But they'd need computers, phone-lines and internet connections, so let's give them a budget for equipment and services of another £3000 each, which would take us almost to a whole billion pounds. Employing 0.1% of the working population, and equipping them, is still less than 10% of the sum the government has spent**. Given our current rates are 23,000 positive tests per day, each of our 43,000 newly-employed contact tracers would average approximately one person with a positive test every two days. They could spend a lot of quality time supporting that covid-infected person, meticulously noting their movements, and following up their contacts.

Let's not forget the development of the "world-beating" Track and Trace App either though. I mean, it must be expensive to develop a new App mustn't it? Let's just pause and consider the most expensive computer games ever made. BioWare spent the equivalent of $227 million developing Star Wars: The Old Republic. Or £175 million. And, married as I am to a Bear in the computer games industry, I can assure you that big computer games are really quite complicated. But even assuming that developing a phone App that hardly works is as difficult as a Massive Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Game, it's still a drop in the £12 billion ocean.

So, even after employing 0.1% of the country as contact-tracers, and developing an App to rival the world's most expensive PC game, we've still got a little less than £11 billion left to spend on more lab technicians, or reagents, or test kits, or courier services, or databases, or statisticians, or doctors, or nurses, or support schemes that allow those isolating to be able to afford to do so. Maybe we could even try feeding some children, or providing enough IT provision that children can receive the level of remote teaching previously reserved only for those who could afford a private education.

But we haven't done any of those things. Makes you wonder where all the money has gone doesn't it?

* It genuinely sticks in my throat to use "we" in that sentence, as though most of that "we" have had anything to do with this obscene waste of taxpayer's money. The Tory government hold all responsibility for this. All of it. 

** Obviously this is a bit of a cheat, as I haven't included employers NI contributions or any of the administrative overheads of employing people, but it gives you an idea of the sums involved.

10-Day Challenge: Day #10

Well, here I am at the end of my 10-day challenge to write short, positive blog posts in an attempt to force myself to see the good in life even in times of stress and distress.

Has it worked?

I wouldn't say I have become entirely upbeat, but I have definitely forced myself to make an effort not to wallow as much as perhaps is normal. There isn't exactly much reading-between-the-lines required for anyone to spot that there have been down days, even in the span of only 10 days. But I have managed to find one bright spot each day, even if that solitary bright spot is cheese. Cheese can be surprisingly therapeutic - as evidenced today by my making a special outing at lunchtime to the only shop within easy range that sells cheese suitable for raclette. By which means I have given myself and LittleBear something to look forward to at the weekend*.

But having molten cheese to look forward to is not my happy thought for the day, it's just a nice coincidence. 

I am not sure whether this technically counts as a happy thought, but it is certainly a moment of self-awareness, and a progression from the foul mood of yesterday. It all starts with a meme that I saw, and (for the second time in the last 5 years) posted on Facebook.

I have the innate ability to imagine situations that haven't even occurred and get fucking furious about them. I basically think myself into a bad mood.

It was true five years ago, and it's true now. I spend far too much time inside my own thoughts, getting myself more and more angry and upset about things that exist only inside my own head. And, aside from the minor impact of every news article I might look at, yesterday was largely down to "thinking myself into a bad mood". With a certain amount of effort; stern internal talking-to; and a clear-eyed look at my lovely husband, son and friends, I managed to talk myself back into a more reasonable frame of mind.

And for me, that's a massive achievement. I feel genuinely proud of myself for getting out of the funk I'd got myself into. And maybe, just maybe, the previous nine days of making an active choice to see the good in life did help.

* It is an enduring mystery to me and LittleBear that BigBear is not a huge fan of raclette. We choose not to question this position too closely, as it simply means more cheese for us.

10-Day Challenge: Day #9

I have been seriously tempted to scrap today's entry. To simply write, "life is shit and I have nothing positive to say." But instead, I'm going to try and be honest about that, and to try and be honest about the struggle to find something, no matter how small, to be happy about. 

I don't want this Challenge to turn into some kind of Pollyanna-ish fa-la-la about life being fully of fluffy kittens and joy, when the very point is that it isn't, but that even when that is the case, it is possible to find something, anything, that might raise a smile, or perhaps provide comfort.

And today, that has been harder than usual. I have been bad-tempered more or less from the moment I awoke until now. I have hated more or less everything. I have had arguments in my head with more or less everyone. I have not been a joyous person, and have almost certainly not provided my LittleBear with a happy half-term Tuesday.

But...

My LittleBear is a dear, sweet, soft bundle of cuddles, and despite my crabbiness, he has been funny, and gentle and entertaining for most* of the day.

And even though life isn't full of fluffy kittens and joy, there is this...

 

And finally, this is the thought I genuinely had as I cooked dinner and wondered what I had to feel upbeat about. I have five types of cheese in the fridge and have eaten three of them today. And, honestly, some days, having plenty of cheese available is the level of positive I can manage.

* He's eight. I may love him dearly, but I'm not so blinkered as to claim that he's been perfect for a whole thirteen hours.

10-Day Challenge: Day #8

Today's moment of good cheer is the extraordinary power of everyday people saying, "enough" in large enough numbers that they make a difference.

You would perhaps have to have been living under a rock not to have noticed there is a certain amount of kerfuffle over the fact that 340 MPs voted against providing free school meals to children living in poverty through this half-term and the Christmas holiday. Apparently, this would be a mere sticking-plaster and therefore unhelpful. I don't know if any of these MPs have ever had a minor, bleeding injury, but there are times when a sticking-plaster is exactly what's needed. In this case, no, it should not be necessary for the government to provide food for children. No, it should not be acceptable that 1.4 million children are in danger of not receiving enough food. No, as a country, we don't want our population to have to need vouchers to provide enough food for their families. And yet. Here we are. Maybe it has something to do with a global pandemic following hot on the heels of 10 years of austerity? 

However, this is supposed to be a positive light shining in the darkness, not a political polemic.

The positive today is just how many cafes, restaurants, charities and individuals have stepped forward to make sure none of the children who need food are going to go without. 

My own village swung rapidly into action, a volunteer group contacted the heads of the three schools (Infant, Junior and Secondary), discovered how much money was required to fund meals for their in-need pupils through half-term, and decided to ask the people of the village to step up. Within 12 hours of bank account details being published, £2,375 of the £3,100 needed had been donated.

Meanwhile, the local bakery is offering no-questions-asked free sandwiches for children's lunches throughout this week. The local branch of the Salvation Army has more food than they can give away and is redirecting it to other areas. They're also running a "Pop-Up Pantry", allowing people who need help to come along and pay only what they can afford, or nothing at all, for essential groceries.

This is not something unique to my village, it is a story being repeated over the length and breadth of the country, as good people refuse to sit back and see others suffer.

These are the people I want to share a country with. These are the people who can stand up and make a difference; who can reshape the future to reflect a kinder, gentler, more humane world than our elected representatives seem to see.

We can make the world a better place.

10-Day Challenge: Day #7

There are advantages to being a football coach. Advantages that go beyond having my car turned into a mobile kit-room, or my spare bedroom housing spare sets of kit for four different age groups, or turning out several times a week in almost inevitable rain through the coldest and most miserable months of the year.

One of those advantages is the occasional day where the sun shines, and we can get ten small boys together for a friendly match, and they can spend a morning running themselves ragged and hoofing the ball at each other without a care in the world.

The joy of children is a wonderful thing. 

The joy of a sweetly struck ball is a wonderful thing. 

LittleBear in action

How could I not find the positive in sunshine, football and small boys?

10-Day Challenge: Day #6

Today is.... <drum-roll>... half term!

That's right, we've made it all the way through a full seven weeks of school. Seven weeks in which no child in LittleBear's school had a positive covid-19 test. Seven weeks in which no class in LittleBear's school had to be sent home to isolate. Seven weeks in which LittleBear was able to receive some actual, genuine teaching, surrounded by his friends.

If that's not something to feel positive about in these times, I don't know what is.

And to celebrate this momentous occasion, what did we do? Absolutely nothing. It was great. 

I say "nothing", but LittleBear and I have started a "Half-Term Tournament" of board games, taking it in turns to chose the next game. Taking a leaf out of the newly-restarted Six Nations tournament, we are awarding 3 points for a win, 1 point for a draw, a bonus point for a thumping victory and a loser's bonus point for a narrow defeat. LittleBear has cruised to an early lead, to nobody's surprise. 

Meanwhile, since I couldn't really be bothered to cook, and the next grocery delivery isn't until tomorrow, we had takeaway curry for dinner. Which involves ordering on my laptop, paying by Paypal, and then cycling down into the village to pick it up from outside the front of the restaurant. And as I peddled home in the dwindling twilight I realised how incredibly lucky I am to be able to do that. To have the money to casually order a takeaway on a whim, to have a well-organised local restaurant that I trust, to be able to collect my meal by bicycle, to have a loving little family to share it with, to have security, and comfort and safety.

Today was definitely a day to count my blessings.

10-Day Challenge: Day #5

After two days in which it was a genuine struggle to force myself to look for and find the positive in the day, today has been so much easier. I even have more than one positive! And though it is tempting to keep one in reserve for tomorrow, in case I have a bad day, I'm going to blow it all today and make myself find a new positive tomorrow. Which is a bit of a high-risk strategy, but feels like keeping to the spirit of my plan.

So my first positive for the day is the immense power of friendship, and the importance of maintaining connections, of responding, and of reaching out. I took an hour and a half off work and I met some friends for a coffee outside our lovely local cafe. We mostly wore masks, except for the actual coffee-drinking part, and we just had a chance to sit and talk. And it was lovely. I had nearly turned the invitation down, as I struggle to justify taking time off work for anything other than looking after LittleBear during school holidays. But sometimes cementing the bonds of friendship matters more than an over-developed sense of responsibility towards my job. And it was H's birthday, and to be able to be with her and share a drink, even on a damp bench on a chilly-but-sunny October morning was worth it.

Having been reminded how much it lifted me up that my friends had reached out and invited me for coffee, even though they knew I would almost certainly decline, I in turn reached out to other people in my life today, and was rewarded with warmth and friendship in return. And I was reminded that as tired as I am, and as loathe to stick my head out of my nest and make an effort, and as hard as I sometimes find interacting with people, the same is true for a lot of other people too. There is nothing to be gained from walling myself off and then wondering why people aren't reaching out to me. As much as I need people to smile and offer the hand of friendship, others need that too, and sometimes I need to be the smile and the proferred hand.

Meanwhile, I was rescued from my despair over the government's attitude to providing meals for children living in poverty by the response of large swathes of the population. Not only have multiple councils up and down the land pledged to provide meals for children during the school holidays, but cafes, restaurants and charities all over the country are stepping in and offering their services to provide free food through the holidays. There are people who do care. Not because they're trying to score political points, not because they're trying to win re-election, but because they have been moved to act for the good of those less fortunate than themselves.

On which similar note, I've now reminded myself I have a third thing to be positive about. Three things! On one day! I was enormously heartened to read that football fans from a variety of clubs (included the beloved Burnley) had balked at the idea of paying £15 to watch one football match on a pay-per-view basis at the weekend and had decided instead to give that sum to their local foodbanks. There is no greater sacrifice for a football fan than missing a chance to watch their team. That so many fans chose not only to miss a match as a protest at the price being asked, but then didn't keep their money to themselves in a time of hardship, but gave it to those suffering greater hardship is another sign of the number of genuinely good people there still are in the country.

Life is about friendship, about community, about caring, about supporting each other, lifting each other up, helping each other. Our government may be failing us, but there is still hope when each of us little people link together, forge bonds, and make life better one tiny act at a time.

10-Day Challenge: Day #4

And I thought yesterday was hard to find the positives in...

I'm going to start with something that could so easily be a complaint, a way of seeing the irritations of life and the casual way in which it's possible to be taken for granted. But I'm not going to focus on that, I'm going to focus on the fact that I'm awesome, that I can be left in the lurch and still come out smelling of roses.

We're making a rather curious scientific instrument for a rather curious scientific Russian customer. We first made this customer an instrument twelve years ago, and the new one is a complete replacement, with better performance and more interesting features plus a collection of spares and extra bits for the old instrument so it works better. On Friday, our curious Russian customer informed us that he needed all of the spares and extra bits this week. Immediately. Or we wouldn't get paid. Dealing with Russia can be a bit like that. 

Now, for Various Reasons That Escape Me, my colleagues didn't tell me this, and as far as I was aware, these spares and extras were due to be sent to Russia in the middle of November. It was only at 11am that I was told that the spares and extras were in a box, awaiting a collection by DHL, but that they couldn't ship without a manual, so could I please write one? 

And thus it was that in a mere two hours I produced a manual, including annotated photographs of the original instrument showing where to fit the new parts, diagrams, explanations and detailed instructions. Even my colleagues were impressed at what I managed to pull out of the bag with so little warning.

I am bloody good at my job, and some days I need to sit back at the end of the day and remember that.

10-Day Challenge: Day #3

I may have had the foresight not to commit to 100 days of positivity, but I genuinely didn't imagine that it would be hard to get beyond day 2. Today has been distinctly challenging. 

However, there is little point in trying to improve my outlook, if I instantly give in and start cataloguing the negatives of the day. So instead, here's a little bright spark...

Throughout my early childhood, my parents owned a super-8 cine camera, and my father used to film family holidays, outings and occasions. These would be trimmed and editted down to (mostly) only contain those events that had successfully been captured in focus and with the light meter set correctly. Every now and then we would have a "film night" at home, and set up the projector and screen to re-live family highlights. I still remember the flickering click as the tail of the film flew threw the feed reel and spun frenetically until the projector was switched off.

A few years ago* I found a local video editting company who were able to transfer these old cine films to a digital format, and I've had the digital files sitting on my computer ever since. I have finally got round to copying these onto a memory stick to send to BrotherBear. This has necessitated me watching clips of the old films, just to make sure the copying has worked properly, you understand. Which is how I came to watch my own first birthday - opening presents in bed while a black-and-white cat played with the wrapping paper. More or less the same as my forty-sixth birthday in truth, except I didn't chew any of my birthday cards this year.

Aside from the enormous joy and privilege of having a moving record of my own family's life from 1975 onwards, this has given me a moment of pure gold that I feel I should share with you. I am six months old.

My mother has always claimed that I was only reaching for her beer because I had just come out of hospital after surgery for congenital hip dislocation. Sadly, this excuse doesn't stand up to scrutiny, as further clips at ever increasing ages can attest.

* I admit, from looking at the dates on the files, "a few" appears to be "ten".

10-Day Challenge: Day #2

As previously mentioned, it was my birthday at the weekend. And one of the presents I was given was a pair of gloves. This may not, at first, sound like a particularly exciting present. But, oh, these gloves. They are a work of art. They are gloriously, fabulously extravagant gloves. They are velvet, with a bold flower pattern on a dark green background. 

Gloves from heaven

 

These are the kind of gloves that I have spent most of my life marvelling at, but never being brave enough to wear. In retrospect, I have spent a disappointingly large portion of my life hiding myself in shapeless, formless, colourless clothes. Oversized, charcoal-grey, men's jumpers and jeans constituted a large portion of my wardrobe through my teens and early twenties. It is only in the last decade and a half* that I have begun to find the confidence to wear colours and patterns. Now, I am happy to wear a yellow pinafore dress with dinosaurs on, or a tweed cape with a magenta silk lining. I would not describe my dress sense as particularly flamboyant, nor eccentric (aside, perhaps, from the aforementioned cape). But I rarely now fall in love with an item of clothing but think to myself, "I could never get away with that." Yet that was very much the story of my younger years. Now, my taste and my confidence are much more closely aligned, so it is only finances or common-sense** that now come between falling in love with clothing and wearing it

So my positive thought for today is how much better life is now that I can just be me, now I can wear things that I love and not be afraid of judgement, now that I can smile to myself just at the thought of a beautiful pair of gloves.

* See also changes experienced between the ages of 30 and 40

** This is not entirely true. Common-sense was not in evidence when I bought a blue and gold brocade corset in the middle of a global pandemic. Because I have had so many opportunities for glamorous evening wear this year.

10-day Challenge: Day #1

Because I find myself sinking into a funk; because I look at how infrequently I've been blogging this year; because I need a focus; because the world is full of depressing crap...

I'm going to try an experiment.

A few years ago, I undertook a Facebook challenge of posting something positive every day for 100 days. Prior to that, as I emerged from post-natal depression, I had my Happy Book, and I wrote in it every evening before bed, but only allowed myself to write about the good things from the day. I made myself acknowledge, and remember, and enjoy the good moments with my BabyBear, rather than think only of the tears, or the frustrations, or the fatigue.

I'm sure that every self-respecting therapist will be totally unsurprised to discover that both these processes genuinely helped me feel more positive. If you dwell on the negative it feeds into a negative spiral; but if you focus on the positive, you can improve your own state of mind. 

Given my current apathy and propensity for a negative outlook, I don't feel quite up to committing to writing something positive every day for a hundred days. That in itself is quite telling, and possibly a sign that it's time I found a way to focus on the positives. But I really can't face setting myself another goal that I'm going to fail at. At the moment, writing ten, short, positive posts in ten days seems like a big enough challenge.  

So, I shall start with today.

Today I took a morning off work, and I had my hair cut, in a well-organised, well-ventilated, covid-secure salon, by my lovely hairdresser with whom I can have an intelligent, well-informed chat about politics, society, covid, children and all manner of other topics. 

It was only the second "non-essential" commercial outing I've been on (I'm counting having to buy a car when mine died mid-lockdown, and having to replace LittleBear's too-small, disintegrating shoes as "essential", along with the more normal grocery shopping expeditions). It was odd to be out doing something so normal, and yet at the same time so un-normal, with the masks, and sanitiser stations, and scant handful of people in a huge room, and locked door but open windows. It was refreshing to talk to someone from outside my usual social and professional circle, and to find my views, my fears and my hopes are not strange outliers. And she's a fantastic hairdresser.

So now I feel uplifted about humanity and considerably less bedraggled.

 

Getting older

Today I turned forty-six. Though I choose instead to adopt the age one of my football team guessed, and claim a splendidly youthful thirty-two. Thank you L!

This evening, after a meal out for the first time since BigBear's birthday in March, I am putting some effort into focussing on the positives of the day, and of my life. Mostly because this morning I was not doing a good job of doing so...

This morning, everything felt sad and empty and overwhelming. In the past 7 months only two pairs of feet other than those belonging to us Bears have set foot in this house - PigletBoy sat inside the patio doors with LittleBear yesterday afternoon playing with lego, and MrsBuilder inspected the leaking roof two weeks ago. That's it. A ten year old and a builder in seven months. No family, no friends. Life feels empty of laughter and camaraderie. The friends I used to talk to outside school every day are now just a passing wave from behind a mask as we collect our children on a strict rota, each class five minutes apart from the next. The friends who live more than a five-minute cycle ride from my house may as well be in a different continent*. Even my nearest and dearest friend, a mere ten miles away, I have seen only twice(?) in this whole car-crash of a year. The ones who are in Cheshire, Derbyshire, Surrey, Kent, London, Devon? There is only so far that technology can hold us together. Facetime and Zoom and WhatsApp have kept me sane, but they haven't kept me whole.

I'm forty-six and I feel broken. I seem to give and work and strive and run out of time without reaching any of the goals I'm aiming for. I don't manage to be the mother, sister, daughter, wife, friend, physicist, football coach, mentor or volunteer that I want to be. And maybe that's the problem. Maybe there are too many things I'm trying to be, and not enough me to go around. I'm tugged in every direction, and stretched so thin that I snap. I shatter. I splinter into sharp, angry, weeping shards that help no-one.

I'm forty-six and my baby isn't a baby any longer, and every time I look he seems older and more serious. Responsible beyond his years. Aware of a global pandemic and the manner in which our lives are being shaped by that in ways I wish I could protect him from, but I can't. I am not ready to lose the little bundle of warmth that still climbs into my lap for cuddles, not even when some of those cuddles are just an excuse to delay bathtime.

I'm forty-six and my mother is ageing, and becoming weaker and frailer. I've seen her once since February and I miss her. I miss seeing her as we all are now, but I also miss being young and being looked after. I miss knowing that she could drop everything and rush to my aid, no matter what mess I'd got myself into. I don't need her to rescue me, but I miss knowing that she could. 

I'm forty-six and the world I see around me just looks shit. It's filled with selfishness, and racism, and arrogance, and ignorance. People who won't stop to consider anyone except themselves, or their concerns and views. People who have lost all trace of empathy for those with nothing. Meanwhile politics appears to be dominated by fools and charlatans; men (and a few women) who place self-interest, personal advancement, and public adulation ahead of leadership, intelligence, honesty, integrity, decency or even just Doing The Right Thing. I genuinely despair, not simply of how we got here, but of how we claw our way to a better future. I cannot see it with our electoral system, our press or our current crop of politicians.

This morning, all of that was too much for me. All of that meant I struggled to see and feel the good in my life, and the love that surrounds me. This evening (aside from writing about all of that) I have tried to move the good things to the front of my mind, and to remember that even in amongst the storms that rage in my mind and in the world, there is good. There are people who will strive to do what's right, for no reason other than it's right. There are people who offer up their love and their friendship unconditionally. There is light in the world, and for as long as that is true, it is always worth adding my tiny candle flame of light to the world, to keep on keeping on. To keep giving and working and striving for the world I want for my baby-who-isn't-a-baby.

So here's the other view of today...

Today my boys gave me a lie-in, followed by breakfast and presents in bed. 

Today my gorgeous little boy was as full of cuddles, and love, and compassion and helpfulness as he always is. 

Today I had a birthday cake that Piglet made for me, chosen specifically to be a variety the rest of the bear household don't eat (coffee and walnut, since you ask), so that I could have a cake all to myself. 

Today my lovely friend C, and her little boy, cycled round with a card and a jar of home-made jam, also that the rest of the bear household don't eat (blackcurrant, since you ask), so that I could have the whole jar to myself. 

Today my lovely friend H hand delivered a card, and just snuck it through the door, though I'm sure she knows she would have been welcome to ring the doorbell for a chat. 

Today I had messages from friends in Alberta, Victoria, Singapore and Rotherhithe (among other places). 

Today I was able to talk to my mother on a screen, share a crossword, laugh and smile, though miles separate us. 

Today an adorable band of five-year old boys and their parents sang "Happy Birthday" to me at the end of the under-6 football training I'd been helping out at.

Today I went out for dinner with my two bears, and we had a nice, quiet, civilised meal together, filled with smiles, and laughter and silly jokes.

Today, totally out of the blue, a friend offered to lend me her home in London while she's away for a month in case we wanted a covid-safe place to stay away from home.

Today I was reminded of the love and warmth of friendship.

Today I turned forty-six in a home filled with love, and my two favourite people in the world, and a slightly annoying cat.

Today the sun broke through the clouds.

* Some of them are, but that's not the point.

A vision for the future

I was delighted to discover yesterday that the Conservative Party, for once in my life, shares my vision for the future. The Prime Minister gave a speech to the virtual Conservative Party Conference, during which he espoused the view that we could not return to the old status quo after this crisis ends, that we must build a better future. As is his (extremely tedious) wont, he harked back to the second world war, and to how we worked together through the dark times, and rebuilt the country in the immediate post-war years, having defeated the filthy Boche etc etc. This is his vision - that we emulate the leadership and outcomes of the war-time and post-war years.

I'm sure a man with such a solid grasp of history, with the aid of all those splendid statues around the country teaching us our splendid history, will have recalled the salient features of the governance of this country during, and immediately following, the war. But for those of you who perhaps haven't remembered the details of how the country was run during, and restructured after, the last massive crisis to face us, here's a summary.

During the war, we had a government of national unity, not a Conservative government.

In the 1945 General Election, the Labour Party swept to power in a landslide, gaining 237 seats and utterly trouncing the Conservatives under Churchill. Clement Attlee was seen as more competent to lead the country outside wartime, and better suited to avoiding a return to the mass unemployment seen under the Conservatives in the 1930s. 

Under the Labour government, led by Attlee, the National Health Service was formed. 

Under the Labour government, National Insurance was introduced, leading to universal access to pensions, sickness benefit, unemployment benefit, funeral benefit and child benefit. 

Under the Labour government, a  million new homes were built, of which 80% were council houses. 

Under the Labour government, the rights and protections of women and children were extended under the Married Women (Restraint Upon Anticipation) Act of 1949, the Married Women (Maintenance) Act of 1949, the Criminal Law (Amendment) Act of 1950 and the Criminal Justice Act of 1948, among others. 

Under the Labour government, the Fair Wages Resolution of 1946 protected the wages of those engaged in working on public projects, while the Shops Act of 1950 ensured that shop workers couldn't be forced to work more than 6 hours without a break, and that all were entitled to a lunch break. Then there was the Fire Services Act 1947, the Electricity Act of 1947, the Workers' Compensation (Supplementation) Act of 1948, the Merchant Shipping Act of 1948, the Merchant Shipping (Safety Convention) Act of 1949, a Miner's Charter in 1946, a Colliery Workers Supplementary Scheme in 1948 and the creation of an Agricultural Wages Board in 1948, among a whole host of others, all of which were designed to protect the rights, safety, health and pay of ordinary working men and women.

Are you getting the picture yet? 

It was a socialist government that looked after the best interests of the working people of this country. It was a socialist government that gave us the NHS, state pensions, unemployment benefits and workers rights.

It is a Conservative government that has seen the rich get richer, and the poor get poorer. It is a Conservative government that has seen money pour out of the exchequer, not into education, or healthcare, or social care, or employment protection, but into the pockets of management consultants trying to handle the shitshow that is a Tory Brexit. Into the pockets of Tory chums who fail to provide a functioning test, track and trace system during a global pandemic. Into the pockets of Conservative party donors who can't make functioning ventilators. Into the pockets of friends of Special Advisors who don't provide the PPE they're contracted to provide. All without public tender, and all without Parliamentary scrutiny.

So, yes please, Mr Johnson, I'll take your vision of the future. I'll take a government of national unity, followed by a socialist landslide in which we return to being led by men and women who want to lift the people up, not those who want only to feather their own nests. If you see yourself as Churchillian, Mr Johnson, I'll take Keir Starmer as Attlee, and let's get going towards 1945.