A letter to my MP

I admit that my political posts appear rather less popular than most other things I write about, but I thought I'd share this one anyway. My MP is Conservative. Her voting record suggests she is a staunch follower of the party line, with her only rebellions being on the subject of abortion in Northern Ireland (which she voted not to criminalise) and Assisted Dying (which she voted to permit). The general feeling amongst those I've spoken to is that she was parachuted into our constituency from CCHQ and shows little interest in her constituents. But my sample-set is rather biased.

I've written to her a few times in the past, and always been graced with a cut-and-paste answer that parrots whatever it is the government are claiming. This time, three weeks have passed and she hasn't even favoured me with that paltry offering.  

Dear Ms Local MP,

It has been clear for some time that the Prime Minister is a man with only a passing acquaintanceship with truth, integrity or honour. What is becoming more clear is that he has fostered and led an atmosphere in 10 Downing St in his own image, with a contempt for rules, and for the people of this country.  

The behaviour of those elected to lead this country is a disgrace and an affront to all the people who have suffered and sacrificed so much throughout the pandemic. Every Conservative MP who fails to speak out, and who fails to condemn the actions of Boris Johnson and his office, aligns themselves with this arrogance and contempt. Every day you are silent is another day in which you condone a grotesque parody of leadership.

“Let not any one pacify his conscience by the delusion that he can do no harm if he takes no part, and forms no opinion. Bad men need nothing more to compass their ends, than that good men should look on and do nothing. He is not a good man who, without a protest, allows wrong to be committed in his name, and with the means which he helps to supply, because he will not trouble himself to use his mind on the subject.”

John Stuart Mill, 1867 inaugural address, University of St Andrews.

Of the seven Nolan Principles, perhaps now is the time to remind you specifically of the final two:

Honesty – Holders of public office should be truthful

Leadership – Holders of public office should exhibit these principles in their own behaviour and treat others with respect. They should actively promote and robustly support the principles and challenge poor behaviour wherever it occurs.

Boris Johnson manifestly fails in both these respects. Do not pacify your conscience by thinking that forming no opinion, looking on, and doing nothing you are doing no harm. You are not a good woman if, without protest, you allow wrong to be committed in your name.

Yours sincerely

PhysicsBear, with a collection of impressive sounding letters after her name.

Time for a revolution

Fore-foreword: after the horrific attack on David Amess, I decided not to immediately publish this post. It seemed like a time to reflect on what I was writing, and whether the level of anger I feel towards our government is something that it's acceptable to post online. I have a very, very small readership, most of whom I know personally, so I hardly think I'll be inciting acts of violence. But on the other hand, I am contributing to a wider malaise of rage and intolerance, and maybe I shouldn't be. But what is it that I'm intolerant of? Not race, or gender, or sexuality, or religion, or age, or ethnicity, or nationality. I am intolerant of hypocrisy, of a cavalier attitude to facts, of lying, of greed, of cruelty, of lack of empathy. And honestly, I don't want to become tolerant of those things. I don't want to sit back and stop caring. So I stay angry.

Foreword: I found a draft of a post I started writing in November 2020. At the time it all got a bit rabid and then petered out and I never quite finished it. Nearly a year later, and not much seems to have changed within my opinions. So to maintain my eco-credentials, I'm just going to recycle it with a few updates that take account of the passage of time. For the sake of historical accuracy, I'm going to make those edits obvious.

I'll start today with an an observation and a warning.

My observation is that it's quite apparent that in the dark and troubling times* we're living in, people are looking for positivity wherever they can find it, even if that's in random whimsical blogposts by some woman they once met outside the school gates. In the past, when looking at the statistics from my blog posts, I consistently had a higher readership for my political rants and introspective anxiety-bleats than anything else I wrote. If I ever produced anything light and fluffy, it was generally met with a bit of a "meh" response. Now, Last year, however, my ten days of positivity each garnered twice as many page views as my grumbles about the shit-weasels governing the country. So, perhaps I should try and stick to some more positive posts - give the people what they want eh? 

And now for the warning:

This post is going to be absolutely rammed full of expletives. I shall curse, swear and profane profusely. If you think this is an impoverished use of language that reveals a lack of imagination and creativity, or if you're just plain offended, tough. Piss off and read about kittens instead.

Back on track...

I cannot write positively just for the sake of it. I'm not positive all the time, and even writing 10 days worth of good cheer was seriously difficult. There were a couple of days I dreaded having to stick to my self-induced schedule. 

I've had enough. I've fucking had it. I'm pissed off. I hate everything about the way the world is. I hate our lying, conniving, self-serving, contemptible shits of politicians. I despise every fucking Brexit-supporting moron who thought "taking back control" was such a fucking good idea they chose to condemn us to becoming a pariah floating in the North Sea. There was never any positive outcome to Brexit. Never. Every sodding thing I wrote about before the referendum was right. I'm not saying I'm some kind of genius. Far from it. I'm pointing out it was blindingly fucking obvious that leaving the EU was the most half-arsed, blinkered, navel-gazing, dim-witted thing we could possibly do, and that it absolutely didn't take a genius to spot that. And if the fact that it was a stupid idea didn't put you off, the fact that the campaign to leave was led by the biggest bunch of lying, power-crazed, wealth-obsessed shit-gibbons this country has ever seen should have been a bit of a clue.

But never mind Brexit, eh? Not while we've got over 500 100 people a day dying of a pandemic (again), while the Brexit-cock-wombles' friends are lining their pockets and failing to answer questions before a Select Committee. How many billions have we spaffed** up the wall on contracts for nothing, or PR campaigns, or "consultants"? How many more people have to die while our government refuses to learn any lessons from the first 50,000 160,000 dead? What the fuck is wrong with these people? Is anyone actually able to stomach listening to Johnson's bullshit waffling at his press conferences everywhere he goes. Waving his arms around, randomly clenching his fist, burbling pointless, frequently military, analogies. Why the fuck did anyone vote for this scum? THIS IS YOUR FAULT.

I'm just so fucking angry with everything. I'm trapped, and fed up, and powerless and it's all just so bloody exhausting. We have a government of incompetent, ill-informed, immoral lickspittles, who kowtow to a stupid, narcissistic, man-baby whose expensive education has left him with nothing more than a veneer of pseudo-intelligence and the mistaken conviction that he is entitled to rule. A man who is incapable of listening, learning, understanding, empathising or indeed leading. A man who escapes on holiday to his billionaire-friends' homes as often as possible, apparently oblivious to the fact that his presence or absence has absolutely no impact on the efficiency or effectiveness of the governance of the country. A man who has no strategy, forethought, policy or direction beyond feathering his own nest and being patted on the back. A man who will say or do absolutely anything for a cheap laugh or a round of applause, but who will renege on every promise he's ever made, personally or professionally.

And this personality cult that's masquerading as a political party has an overwhelming majority in the House of Commons. A majority that they're busy trying to make unassailable by changing voting laws, banning protests and limiting freedoms. A majority that is baked-in to our antiquated FPTP voting system. A majority that is still, gobsmackingly, approved of by some 40% of the voting public. 

Where the hell do we go from here? Where are the decent Tories who will stop this nonsense? Are there any? Because it's only Tories who can currently do anything about this fiasco of a corrupt, incompetent government. 

And then it's time for a revolution, and the creation of a mature democracy fit for the 21st century. Who's with me?

* A year on, and a question for the reader - are times more or less dark and troubling now, or is it much the same?

** For those who are not followers of the Parliamentary sketch-writer John Crace, he habitually refers to Johnson as "spaffer" after his obscene complaint that money spent pursuing historic cases of child sex abuse was being "spaffed up the wall". He later attempted to claim he was not aware that the term was synonymous with ejaculation. He is an utter, irredeemable shit.

Political rage

Every time I think I have run out of ways to be angry about politics... the contemptible shit-weasels who govern us find new ways to rile me. I would say they find new ways to surprise me, but the one thing their corrupt manoeuverings don't do any more, is surprise me.

We've just had, as some of you will have noticed, a raft of local elections of various descriptions. Despite my feeling that asking us to vote for Police and Crime Commissioners is utterly stupid, given how much any of us know about how to run a police force, I was heartened that we had a half-way-to-grown-up voting system for them and for our mayors. We were allowed to use a supplementary vote system, which avoids the need to try and make tactical decisions about how to vote. Second preference voting in the mayoral election in my area meant that instead of the Tory candidate getting in with 40% of the vote, the 60% who'd voted for a left-of-centre candidate were rewarded with a left-of-centre mayor. Not exactly Proportional Representation, but a massive step forward from First Past The Post, which punishes parties who are at the same end of the political spectrum by splitting their vote (see previously Tories and the Brexit Party but currently affecting left-of-centre votes for Labour, Liberal Democrat and Green).

Can you guess what the Tory Party's reaction to Labour winning 11 out of 13 mayoral contests is? That's right, they intend to revert mayoral elections to being First Past The Post, an antiquated, unrepresentative system that we should, if we were a mature, intelligent democracy, be moving away from. I am sickened by the naked thirst for power exhibited here - "we didn't win, so we're going to rig the electoral system in our favour". And with a massive Parliamentary majority, they'll do just that. All the howls of outrage from advocates for democracy will be meaningless. All the letters to MPs begging for integrity will be irrelevant. All the eloquent speeches from the Opposition benches will change nothing. FPTP won the Tories 56% of the seat on 44% of the vote, allowing them to now do exactly what they want, including rewarding themselves with more power by degrading our local election system.

And as if rigging the local election system weren't enough, the next step is to try to limit the number of people who can vote. After all, you don't want the wrong sort voting, do you? The kind of people who don't have passports or driving licenses. The kind of people who might vote for improvements to the welfare state or the national health service. Anything might happen if poor people voted. The idea of the poor being allowed to do anything probably brings Jacob Rees-Mogg out in a cold sweat. So, despite there being no evidence whatsoever that electoral fraud is an issue, the Tories are moving to require photographic ID before you're allowed to vote. Photographic ID that is disproportionately not possessed by the poor and the young.

I cannot imagine having voted for these people and then sitting back thinking, "Yep, this is the kind of thing I want more of. More corruption, more lies, more election-rigging." I used to at least understand those who voted for different economic and social policies, even when they were not my own views. But this? This shower of mediocrity and mendacity? We are governed by self-serving scum, and I no longer understand anyone who votes for them.

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.

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.

Let me get this straight...

 I've had a bit of a hiatus here, but honestly, our government of utter cockwombles is forcing me out of my hole again.

We have three important law officers in the UK - the attorney general, solicitor general and advocate general for Scotland – who are required to ensure that ministers act within the law. 

Personally, I think it's a good idea that ministers act within the law, and fortunately I'm not alone in that, because there's such a thing as the Ministerial Code, which defines what ministers should and shouldn't do. This code, astonishingly, was only actually written in 1997. Obviously, up to that point ministers were deemed decent and honourable enough not to need to have these kinds of things written down. The tail end of the Tory administration that ended with Tony Blair's first election in 1997 firmly put paid to that idea. However, back to that code...

In 2010, the wording of the code was that there was an “overarching duty on ministers to comply with the law, including international law and treaty obligations, and to uphold the administration of justice and to protect the integrity of public life”.

Pretty clear, huh?

But, obviously, it's important to maintain wriggle room for ministers to do whatever the hell they want, so under David Cameron's watch, this wording was reduced to an “overarching duty on ministers to comply with the law and to protect the integrity of public life”.

Because we have a variety of people who don't like our government trying to sneak extra powers for themselves, this change was challenged in the courts, on the grounds that it had not been debated in parliament and was illegal. In 2018, the government defeated the case in the court of appeal. But... in that judgment, although finding in the government's favour, the court also found that despite the change in the wording, the “overarching” duty to comply with the law included international law and treaty obligations.

Now, where were we? Oh yes, our three law officers expressing an opinion on what ministers are and aren't allowed to do.

All three officers were unanimous in their view that the UK internal market bill (the one which is aiming to override parts of the Northern Ireland protocol if there is no trade deal with the EU) would amount to a “clear breach” of the withdrawal agreement and international law.

Got that? The three officers whose duty it is to ensure that ministers act within the law are firm that what is proposed is a clear breach of international law.

Only the Scottish advocate general has the balls to say that ministers should be bound by international law and treaties. The advice letter these three noble officers have written states, “It is the opinion of the advocate general for Scotland that the terms of the ministerial code expressly reflect a constitutional convention that ministers shall act in accordance with the rule of law, which in his view includes international law. In his opinion, that includes the obligation under international law to act in good faith with respect to the UK’s treaty obligations."

The craven boot-lickers* representing the English and Welsh arms of the law, however, don't think that the explicit ruling of the court of appeal as to the meaning of "overarching" has any weight. “In contrast, the attorney general and solicitor general are confident that there is a strong legal basis ... which separate the rule of law into its domestic and international spheres. In their view, the reference to ‘law’ in the ministerial code can only be a reference to UK law and UK constitutional principles.”

The court of appeal ruled in 2018 that this was explicitly not the case and that "overarching" includes domestic and international law. And yet here we are.

I have no idea what kind of a stupid game Johnson, Cummings et al are playing with the UK Internal Market Bill, or whether it's just another dead cat, distracting us from their real purpose. But whatever it is they're doing is definitely making us look like utter shit-weasels to the rest of the world. Always a good basis for trying to negotiate new international treaties and trade deals...

* To be fair, I know absolutely nothing about the Solicitor General, but Suella Braverman, Attorney General is a despicable, incompetent, unprofessional, political toady. Think of her as the UK's very own Bill Barr.

Simmering

In the post-election aftermath of accepting what a thumping Tory majority led by a man with no moral compass would mean, I had allowed my rage and despair to ebb away. Or perhaps I had simply stopped feeding the fires, and was able to ignore the glowing embers of my fury.

I thought that the days of rage-blogging about politics would ease into the past.

But honestly, I can't really be silent about the contempt I have for the Prime Minister, or his minions/puppetmasters*.

During the election campaign, Johnson hid in a fridge to avoid being questioned by ITV's Good Morning Britain, not renowned for its hard-hitting political edge. During the same campaign, Johnson took a journalist's phone and put it in his own pocket to avoid looking at a photograph of a child lying on a hospital floor, to avoid actually having to answer questions about the consequences of his own party's past nine years in power.

In December, the Prime Minister** banned his ministers from appearing on the BBCs flagship political radio show, the Today programme.

Two days ago, Johnson excluded two political sketch-writers from one of his speeches, on the grounds there "wasn't enough space". There were two empty rows of chairs.

On the same day, Number 10 attempted to hold a selective lobby briefing, refusing entry to representatives of those news organisations that didn't meet with their favour***. To their credit, the remaining lobby journalists refused to be part of this restriction and walked out. I can only hope they continue to show the same backbone if Number 10 tries that again.

Yesterday it came to light that Number 10 are issuing language guidance to the Foreign Office to ensure that they comply with the government's desire to manipulate public perception of Brexit. The memo to the FCO started with the following:

“Brexit is completed. So do not use the term ‘Brexit’, save as a historical event that took place on 31 January 2020”

Because we've all noticed how Brexit is "completed" haven't we? Furthermore, the FCO are not to refer to leaving with a deal or with "no deal"; instead they are to refer to leaving with a Canada-style deal or an Australia-style deal. That would be the Canada-EU trade deal that took 7 years to hammer out, when we have a mere ten months, or the Australia-EU trade deal that doesn't exist, so is in fact, erm, how shall I put this? No deal.

Other demands include not referring to having any kind of "partnership" with the EU, especially not one that is either "deep" or "special". If the Foreign Office must say anything positive about our future relationship, they are instructed to “Stick to the phrase ‘friendly cooperation between sovereign equals’.” Which I think tells you all you need to know about Johnson's intentions regarding any future relationship.

I have a deep, deep distrust of any politician or government that attempts to restrict access of a free press to said government, and an even deeper distrust of any politician or government that seeks to dictate the language that independent, politically-neutral civil servants are allowed to use. In my view, the only way to fight back against such arrogance is to deliberately, and repeatedly, draw attention to it. To deliberately, and repeatedly, refuse to comply with linguistic restrictions of this type.

I easily fall prey to hyperbole, to exaggerating any peril or ill, to seeing the worst in a situation, and particularly to assigning the most nefarious motives to politicians who I don't support. Even in light of knowing all that about myself, and recognising my own visceral reactions to the current political climate, I am going to point my finger at this despicable, arrogant, posturing, bullying, ignorant Prime Minister and his acolytes and accuse them of dragging us ever deeper into an Orwellian nightmare of Newspeak and Doublespeak. They are attempting to control the press, and to control the very language the government uses about Brexit. And I for one am not going to sit down and shut up about it.

I shall not stop referring to the ongoing machinations as Brexit, for that is what it is. I shall not refer to an "Australia-style deal", but instead call it what it is - no deal. I shall not refer to "Boris" as though he's some inoffensive, cuddly buffoon - he is Johnson or the Prime Minister. And he is contemptible.

* I am still unsure whether there is in fact a "power behind the throne" in the odious Dominic Cummings, or whether he is simply a symptom. Are the machinations, distortions and thuggery of Number 10 coming from Johnson, or from Cummings? In the end, it doesn't matter. Johnson is Prime Minister; the buck stops with him.

** As per my previous footnote, I hold Johnson responsible for decisions made in his name. If he is too lazy or too weak to control the actions of his staff on issues like this, then he needs to be responsible for that failing too.

*** Attempts were made to claim that this selective briefing was perfectly normal, and it was standard to have such briefings solely for expert journalists in a specific field. This was a general briefing and all the journalists were generalists, not specialists. Lies piled upon abuse of power.

Other people's oddities

So here we are.

The eve of the United Kingdom's departure from the EU, with a recent poll reporting that 58% of Tory voters want to retain Freedom of Movement with the EU.

The Tory government, meanwhile, are renationalising a section of our railway network despite the howls of outrage that accompanied any suggestion in the Labour election manifesto of renationalising the railways.

The US are on the brink of acquitting a corrupt, criminal president without even the pretence of a fair trial: no witnesses and a defence that goes beyond Nixonian with the claim that if the President acts in the interests of his own re-election then no matter what that act is, it's justified as being in the national interest.

I find myself staring at the world and honestly thinking, "What the fuck?"

What were people voting for in leaving the EU? Is it really as simple as wanting to "take back control" as an emotive concept, while in practice retaining the status quo? Did that many people really not see that voting to leave the EU was going to result in losing Freedom of Movement, and in the creation of customs borders again? Has it really all been about blue passports and the right to have a bent cucumber?

I have a sinking feeling that for many (and I can sympathise with this), "Get Brexit Done" translated to "Make Brexit go away as soon as possible so I don't have to see, hear or think about any more of this nonsense." The fact that we were already well past that point, and there was no way to put the lid back on Pandora's box didn't matter.

So here we are.

Pursuing a path that quite clearly contains many things that the vast majority of people don't actually want, on the grounds that there's a nebulous sense of nationhood that a small majority of people hanker after.

Most people also want to protect the NHS, and fear that a trade deal with the US threatens that*. Most people want to see the railways brought back under state control. And yet those same people voted for a government that promised the opposite. And voted for a government that wants to pursue the hardest of Brexits. Obviously, our recent general election wasn't a single issue election, on either or those particular issues. And obviously there were a multitude of reasons, some of them named Jeremy Corbyn and some of them name Rupert Murdoch and Lord Rothermere, why we ended up with the government we did.

So here we are.

With a government whose policies are the opposite of the views of the majority of the country, though more people voted for them than any other single party.

And on the opposite side of the Atlantic, 53 Republican Senators, who have sworn an oath of impartiality, appear to be doing their very best to acquit Trump at all costs, in the face of all evidence, in the face of the vast majority of their electorate wanting a fair trial, with witnesses called. I know they cling to power. I know they fear Trump, and his retribution, but their honour, their integrity, their constitution and their country surely have greater weight than the term of a single, power-crazed President. Surely? Apparently not.

So here we are.

I don't understand other people.

I don't understand their motivations.

I don't understand what they think when they vote.

I feel disconnected from the world around me, in a way I rarely remember feeling before. I don't know these people. I don't know this country. Maybe I never did, but it was never so blindingly obvious to me before now. Is this how those who wanted to leave the EU felt? Divorced and alienated from their own country to such an extent that they're not even sure it's a country they want to be part of any more? Is this the sense of loss that drove my compatriots to vote to burn it all down?

I don't know.

I don't understand.



* In a recent poll, 81% believe a trade deal with the US threatens the NHS, with over a third believing it represents a "severe" threat.

A positive spin on politics

Being, as you may have spotted over the years, at least a tad left-of-centre in my political views, not to mention quite fond of remaining in the EU, it might come as a surprise to regular readers to know that I'm feeling considerably better about the current political situation than I was at this time last year.

"How can that be?" I hear you cry.

We have just elected what appears to a hard-line Conservative government who are showing every sign of wanting to ride roughshod over workers' rights and protection for child refugees, not to mention locking Parliament out of scrutiny of the Brexit negotiations whilst also enshrining in law an almost-inevitable no-deal Brexit. Whilst banning the use of the word Brexit. What's to feel calm about?

The calmness comes not from any happiness, or confidence that all will be well. It comes from a resignation that there is nothing left to hope for, nothing to change, nothing to influence.

To re-use a phrase that is an inherent part of being a Burnley FC fan...

It's the hope that kills.

While there was a hung Parliament, and a cross-party consensus could operate to hold the government to account, every vote held out the possibility that we could divert from the most calamitous path that the ERG were slavering over. Now that hope is gone. Now I feel no compulsion to watch the Parliament channel, or follow the hour-by-hour reporting of votes in the House of Commons. The Tories will have their way, and I can read a summary of what they are inflicting upon us after the fact. I no longer hope; so I no longer suffer from the obsessive anxiety that characterised my interactions with the news last year.

The good news for you all is that this means I'm much less likely to launch forth political rants here.

Apathy has won the day.

Thoughts

"The country has spoken"

No doubt we will hear that over and over again from our Prime Minister. And it has, though in a rather strangulated whisper thanks to the distortions of our political system.

A gain of 1.2% of the vote share, to a total of 43.6%*, has given the Conservative party a sizeable majority.

Pro-Remain/pro-second-referendum parties had a total vote share of 49%.

Is the country's voice really that clear?

I would say that it isn't, but also that it doesn't matter. There is a large majority in the House of Commons to push through Conservative policies, and there's nothing I can do to change that.

On the other hand, do we have any idea what the Prime Minister actually thinks or believes? He has a long and varied history of lying, and has carefully made sure he made few concrete promises during this election campaign. I genuinely have no idea if he has any beliefs, or ideologies, that extend beyond himself. I fear the unknown of a Johnson leadership, as much as I fear the known of Conservative policies of cutting public spending, cutting taxes for the wealthy and selling our public services to the highest bidder.

I held BigBear and LittleBear in bed this morning as I felt sick and tired and I promised them both that we could still try to make the world around us a better place. Whoever is in power, I can still choose, every day, to try to help those less fortunate than myself. I can try to make positive changes in my life that protect the environment, that ease suffering, that bring light to other people's lives. I cannot change the policies of the government; I cannot increase funding for schools or libraries or hospitals or the police or legal aid or social housing or welfare.

I feel sad, angry and depressed that we have a Prime Minister who is a known liar, racist and homophobe.

I feel sad, angry and depressed that we have elected politicians who have expressed some truly horrible views on race and religion.

I feel sad, angry and depressed at the racism and populism I now see around me on a regular basis.

I feel sad, angry and depressed that we are now destined to leave the EU under whatever terms the Conservatives now choose, with no brakes upon their ambition.

But I will fight to be true to my own values of compassion, empathy, support and love. I will be the person I want the world to have.

It's the only thing I can do.



* The small percentage change in vote share has increased the number of Conservative seats from 298 to 364.
1.2% gain in votes is a 12% gain in seats.
43.6% of the vote has translated to 56% of the seats.

A poem

As I drove across town in the lashing rain to cast a proxy vote for a friend, a line of a poem came back to me. It was a poem by Rudyard Kipling, entitled "A Dead Statesman", from a series called "Epitaphs of the War" - a series of epitaphs he conjured up as though written by those who died during the First World War.

I could not dig: I dared not rob: 

Therefore I lied to please the mob. 

Now all my lies are proved untrue 

And I must face the men I slew. 

What tale shall serve me here among 

Mine angry and defrauded young?

 Our "statesmen" (if only we had some) are not dead, and nor are millions of our young, but the sentiment feels pretty apposite to me.

Remind me again...

A week ago, I started writing daily posts on Facebook, highlighting the ways in which society has been negatively affected by the policies of the Conservative party. I was going to keep going until election day, but honestly? I am too angry to keep doing this. I am filled with rage and sadness at the ways in which the poor, the vulnerable, the weak and the needy have been punished. I know I will not be voting Conservative, and I know why. I've done my small bit on social media to share some of those reasons, and now I'm going to aggregate those reasons and share them here as well.

Homelessness

At the end of 2018, there were 62,000 homeless families living in temporary accommodation in England alone. These families included 124,000 children¹.

There are 80% more children living in temporary accommodation than there were in 2010.

These figures do not include families or children who are "sofa-surfing" instead of relying on their Local Authority. The Children's Commissioner's Office estimates another 92,000 children are living in "sofa-surfing" families².

Remind me again why you're voting Conservative?

Policing

Police numbers have fallen by 20,600 between March 2010 and March 2019, representing a 14% drop in number of police officers. Taking into account a rising population, this is a cut of 19% in the number of police officers per head of population³.

Knife crime (excluding Greater Manchester, who didn't submit figures in time) has increased from 30,620 reported incidents per year in March 2011 to 44,076 per year in March 2019, an increase of 44%⁴.

Remind me again why you're voting Conservative?

Justice

Since 2010...

162 magistrates’ courts have closed, out of 323,
90 county courts have closed, out of 240,
18 dedicated tribunal buildings have closed, out of 83,
17 family courts have closed, out of 185,
8 crown courts have closed, out of 92.⁵

Legal aid spending has been cut by 37% between 2010 and 2018, with the Ministry of Justice suffering more cuts than any other government department. Access to justice? What access to justice?⁶

Remind me again why you're voting Conservative?

NHS

In 2005, a policy book entitled "Direct Democracy: An Agenda For A New Model Party" was published, co-authored by (among others) Michael Gove, Daniel Hannan, Greg Clark, David Gauke, Jeremy Hunt and Kwasi Kwarteng. All Conservative MPs or MEPs, in case you hadn't spotted it. Among the many statements advocating moving from our current system of a National Health Service towards a private, insurance-based system, is this one:

“Our ambition should be to break down the barriers between private and public provision, in effect denationalising the provision of health care in Britain.⁷"

Remind me again why you're voting Conservative?

Food banks

In the last five years, food bank use in the Trussell Trust network has increased by 73%, so that in the past year alone, nearly 1.6 million three-day emergency food parcels were supplied to people in crisis.

More than half a million of these parcels went to children⁸.

Remind me again why you're voting Conservative?

Disability benefit

Approximately 1,600 working-age disabled people have died every year over the past five years within six months of having their claim for disability benefits rejected⁹.

Remind me again why you're voting Conservative?

Education

Since the 2015/16 academic year, my son's school has seen a real terms funding cut of £200 per pupil.¹⁰

Remind me again why you're voting Conservative?


You may think that this isn't you. Maybe you don't vote Conservative. Maybe you do vote Conservative, but you do so for their policies on other matters. But if you do vote Conservative this is you. This is what you've chosen. This is what you've endorsed. This is what you are happy to allow to happen in your name. This is a price you think is worth paying. These lives. These people. These children.  And I do hold you responsible. Maybe you wanted lower taxation, or tighter immigration controls. Maybe you wanted less state intervention in business. Maybe you wanted looser banking regulations. Maybe you wanted a referendum on our membership of the EU. I don't know what you wanted, but this is what you got. This is what you chose for all of us. You own this. This is you.

Remind me again why you're voting Conservative?

¹ https://www.gov.uk/government/statistical-data-sets/live-tables-on-homelessness

² https://www.childrenscommissioner.gov.uk/wp-content/uploads/2019/08/cco-bleak-houses-report-august-2019.pdf

³ https://www.gov.uk/government/statistics/police-workforce-england-and-wales-31-march-2019

⁴ https://www.ons.gov.uk/peoplepopulationandcommunity/crimeandjustice/bulletins/crimeinenglandandwales/yearendingjune2019

⁵ https://researchbriefings.parliament.uk/ResearchBriefing/Summary/CDP-2019-0156

⁶ www.theguardian.com/law/2018/dec/26/legal-aid-how-has-it-changed-in-70-years

⁷ p78 of whatwouldvirchowdo.files.wordpress.com/2015/09/direct_democracy___an_agenda_for_a_new_model_party.pdf

⁸ https://www.trusselltrust.org/2019/04/25/record-1-6m-food-bank-parcels/

⁹ https://www.parliament.uk/business/publications/written-questions-answers-statements/written-question/Commons/2019-01-17/209778

¹⁰ https://commonslibrary.parliament.uk/social-policy/education/schools/constituency-data-schools-funding/

Lies, damned lies and Johnson

Boris Johnson spent much of his time before entering politics in journalism. It's hard to say, in the current climate, which is the more dishonest and dishonourable profession. Johnson has managed to bring dishonesty and dishonour to both however. He has the notable distinction of having been sacked from jobs in both journalism and politics for the same reason - lying.

Lying journalist

The first job from which he was sacked for lying was at The Times (for inventing a quote for a front page story).

When Chris Patten, a European Commissioner during Johnson's tenure at The Times, spoke of Boris Johnson, he described Johnson as "one of the greatest exponents of fake journalism". More recently, he went on to say

“He’s lied his way through life, he’s lied his way through politics, he’s a huckster with a degree of charm to which I am immune. As well as being mendacious he’s incompetent.”

Truly, a glowing recommendation from a fellow Tory. This is what his own party thinks of him.

In 1999, he sought a position as Editor of The Spectator. To secure the post, he assured the owner (Conrad Black) that he didn't intend to pursue a career in politics. It only took him two years to break that promise and run for Parliament as Conservative candidate for Henley in 2001.

Lying politician

The next job from which he was sacked for lying was once he'd slid into politics. Michael Howard had made him party vice-chairman and shadow arts minister. He was sacked from both posts after promising Howard that reports of an affair were an “inverted pyramid of piffle”. When it turned out that the story of the affair was completely truthful, he refused to resign and was sacked for lying to his party leader.

I am occasionally told that I shouldn't care so much about the details of politicians lying as, "they all do it". And it's true - every manifesto, every campaign, and virtually every interview is filled with exaggeration and bluster as politicians try to persuade the electorate that the land of milk and honey lies only with a vote for their particular party. But there is a level of lying that heads beyond the endless claims of spending on public services that haven't actually been costed.

It seems a bit tired and boring to bang on now about the Vote Leave campaign, but it's hard to talk about Johnson and his lies without mentioning some of his prime whoppers.

At the launch of the now-infamous, £350-million-per-week lies-on-a-bus tour, Johnson headed back to some of his favourite arrant nonsense, regurgitating Lies Of Christmas Past with claims that the EU was setting rules on the shape of bananas.

And I think I've perhaps drawn attention to the claim that the UK was sending £350m a week to the EU, followed by “let’s fund our NHS instead”. Never mind the fact that the UK Statistics Authority issued an official statement in May 2016 describing the claim as “misleading”. That didn't stop Johnson repeated it in an article in the Telegraph in September 2017, and at various tedious intervals since. If you tell the same lie often enough, some people will believe you.

Then there were the repugnant, dog-whistle, racist claims that we were going to be swamped by Turkish immigrants. Not only did Johnson co-sign a letter claiming “the only way to avoid having common borders with Turkey is to vote Leave and take back control”. He then subsequently claimed that he did not mention Turkey during the referendum. Lies piled upon lies to pretend he hadn't lied in the first place.

And here we are now, referendum long past and a general election looming, and the press and public simply seem resigned to the fact that when Johnson opens his mouth lies will emerge.

There won't be a border in the Irish Sea? It almost makes you wonder if he's even read his own withdrawal agreement. Or perhaps it won't be a proper border, as it will be manned by unicorns. Not to mention (though I will), the fact that it was only a year ago that Johnson told the DUP at their conference, "We would be damaging the fabric of the Union with regulatory checks and even customs controls between Great Britain and Northern Ireland on top of those extra regulatory checks down the Irish Sea that are already envisaged in the withdrawal agreement."

"Now, I have to tell you that no British Conservative government could or should sign up to any such arrangement," he added. No, indeed they should not Mr Johnson. So why did you? And why do you continue to lie to the public and claim that's not exactly what you've done?

Then there's his old favourite... Parliament scuppered a deal... Almost every day he wheels that one out, conveniently ignoring the fact that it was he that voted against a deal, repeatedly. It was he that resigned from Cabinet to be able to vote against a deal. It was he that pulled the deal from Parliament after they'd voted it through, because he didn't dare allow it to be scrutinised for more than two days.

How about the 20,000 extra police officers he assured the residents of Oldham were "already operating on our streets"? They aren't. The government plan to recruit 20,000 additional officers, to replace the ones they've spent the last few years getting rid of.

Or maybe there are the 40 new hospitals, when in truth 6 hospitals will be upgraded in the next five years, if the Tories regain power, and everything else is additional funding offered beyond 2025, none of which is for a new hospital anywhere.

Or perhaps the claim that we have the lowest corporation tax in Europe (we don't - it's higher than Ireland, Lithuania and Hungary) and that Labour would make it the highest (they won't - they plan to return to 2011 levels by 2022, when it would still be lower than France and Belgium).

His lies become so extravagant, and so bare-faced, it almost feels absurd to be forced to point them out.

Obviously, I don't know Johnson personally, though at least one of my friends has been on the receiving end of unwanted sexual advances from him, so I confess to being predisposed to dislike him. But don't take my word for it, why not read what others who do know him think...

“What had we done for Boris? Had we taught him truthfulness? No. Had we taught him wisdom? No. What had we taught? Was it only how to make witty and brilliant speeches?” 

 Anthony Kenny, master of Balliol when Johnson was a student there

“Probably the worst scholar Eton ever sent us – a buffoon and an idler,”  

Oswyn Murray, Fellow of Balliol College

"There is room for debate about whether he is a scoundrel or mere rogue, but not much about his moral bankruptcy, rooted in a contempt for truth," 

Max Hastings, Editor of the Daily Telegraph

“Boris really has adopted a disgracefully cavalier attitude to his classical studies. It is a question of priorities, which most of his colleagues have no difficulty in sorting out. Boris sometimes seems affronted when criticised for what amounts to a gross failure of responsibility (and surprised at the same time that he was not appointed Captain of the School for next half): I think he honestly believes that it is churlish of us not to regard him as an exception, one who should be free of the network of obligation which binds everyone else.”

 Martin Hammond, Master in College, Eton

And this is the man we appear likely to elect as our Prime Minister?

Are we not better than this?

Do we not deserve better than this?

Depression v rage

A week is a long time in politics.

At the moment, a day is a long time in politics, and it is feeling increasingly difficult to keep up with what is happening today, let along imagine what might be happening tomorrow (on either side of the Atlantic).

Anyone who has been reading this blog for any length of time knows that I voted "Remain" in the EU Referendum, and that I would do so again. I looked back today at things I've written before, and it depressed me enormously to discover that on the day of the vote, I saw all too clearly the path ahead. And as we continue to gallop headlong towards a cliff-edge, with no apparent hope of reconciliation in a deeply divided country, I spend my evenings and nights once more wondering if the solution is simply to leave the UK.

I keep thinking of things I could write, emotional outpourings at the insanity that appears to be unfolding one day at a time. And I keep thinking I can't quite be bothered. The emotional effort is too high, the reward too small. It feels like I'd simply be picking a scab - making myself hurt more for no gain. Because, who of you reading this really wants to read yet another polemic? Hasn't enough been written by passionate Leavers and Remainers? Isn't the divide already so entrenched that nobody hears anybody else any more? Won't I just be contributing more to the echo-chamber that is my Remain-supporting circle of friends?

But there are some things that go beyond party politics, and beyond Leave vs Remain, and cut to the heart of who we are and who we want to be. There are things that I've been seeing and reading that are, to quote Mitt Romney, deeply troubling. It is, if anything, a continuation of the idea that I pushed back against previously, that having been on the "losing" side, I should simply put-up and shut-up. Brexit has won, long live Brexit.

Yesterday, I watched the Prime Minister's "special adviser", Dominic Cummings, as he was challenged by Karl Turner, a Labour MP, on the use of the Prime Minister's language in Parliament. Cummings' response to the fact that Turner is receiving death threats, was that he should "get Brexit done".

Stop and think about that for a moment.

If you don't want to get death threats, you should do what I want.

Isn't that in itself tantamount to a threat?

We're all* on board with the idea that women aren't "asking for it" if they wear a short skirt and get raped. Can we not get on board with the idea that nobody is asking for a death threat simply because they think a no-deal Brexit is a stupid idea?

How low have we sunk when this attitude appears to pass without comment? How is it OK for this "special advisor" to be able to say, unchallenged, that death threats are bad, but that MPs have brought the threats upon themselves? No. No they haven't. They really, really haven't.

Someone needs to pull Cummings (and Johnson, and Rees-Mogg and the rest of the toxic cabal who refuse to moderate their language) up on the idea that MPs deserve threats for thwarting the will of the people. Nobody deserves a death threat. Nobody is betraying anybody by seeking a democratic route through this shit-storm. Nobody is surrendering to anybody. There has been no coup.

Our elected representatives have a duty to act in the best interests of their constituents and their country. I am not convinced that all of them always do so, particularly given the nature of our party political system and the use of the party whips. However, the idea that they could be cowed into not doing so by threats of violence directed at themselves or their families is utterly abhorrent in what should be a civilised society and should be a mature democracy.

Meanwhile, in breaking news, an anonymous briefing from "a senior cabinet minister" to The Times newspaper has warned that the country would risk a “violent, popular uprising” if a second referendum overturned the result of the first. This minister allegedly also (helpfully) pointed out that it would only take “a couple of nasty populist frontmen to inspire people”. In case we weren't sure how to organise a violent, popular uprising.

Nice country. Be a shame if anything happened to it.

A cabinet minister apparently issuing anonymous, not-very-veiled threats. And the Tory party alone has a plentiful supply of nasty populist frontmen to fulfill this prophesy, never mind looking to the further right-hand fringes of British politics. What happened to the idea that ministers of the crown had any kind of responsibility towards peace, stability and security? This appears to be an active attempt to, at the very least, legitimise civil unrest, if not actually encourage destabilising the country.

Some days I am filled with rage, wanting to do something, to fight back against the lies, and the hate and the stupidity that are welling up around me.

And some days I am overwhelmed by the futility of one person even imagining they can make any difference when faced with the might and wealth of the press, politicians and power-brokers who are each single-minded in their pursuit of their own agenda, no matter the damage they do on the way.

Depression v rage.

Today the depression is winning.

* When I say "all" I obviously am living in a fanciful Utopia that excludes the depressingly large swathe of people who still seem to think that women are to blame for being raped by virtue of the way they look, or how much they drink or indeed whether they've ever had sex before. When I say "all" I mean "all right thinking, decent human beings". I think I've successfully demonstrated that the world has a depressing shortage of those.

Bollocks to Brexit

Today I did something I've never done before. I did something that scared and daunted me. I did something that exhausted me and pushed me to my limits of physical and emotional strength.

I, with over a million of my fellow citizens, marched in London to protest against Brexit. And thus I had to explain to my innocent LittleBear what "bollocks" were, and why there were some occasions when it was OK to shout "bollocks to Brexit" in the street, but there were other occasions, such as at school, where the use of the word but would be less acceptable. I confess that I was a little more vague on the meaning of "bugger". And when I say vague, I completely bottled it and claimed I couldn't quite think of a good way of explaining it at the moment.

I think I've explained previously why I think leaving the EU is a bad idea, and how I think the negotiations should have gone (and I bet my suggestions are better than Trump's "advice").  My views have only become stronger since then, and my views of the current government continue to sink, as they alternate between revealing their collective gross ignorance*, arrogance and incompetence, and attempting to blackmail Parliament with "my deal or catastrophe". So instead of a political polemic, I'll tell you about our day.

I had made a double-sided placard at work, with the assistance and blessing of my right-thinking colleagues. When LittleBear had seen said placard, he put in a bid to add his own addendum, so we completed our three-part placard and were out of the house at 8am.

A bonus prize if you can spot which part of the EU is outside the red line

Perfectly designed for a LittleBear to carry

Ready to go.

We were fortunate enough to be able to get places on a coach leaving HomeTown with the local branch of the Liberal Democrats. This meant that we had stress-free travel to the centre of London, and were conveniently deposited at Marble Arch shortly after 10:30**.

Waiting for the LibDem coach

We then convened with other regional LibDem contingents outside the Dorchester Hotel, including those who'd come down by coach from Aberdeen. They'd set off 10 hours before we had. There were a good smattering of wealthy people with strangely plastic faces and large luggage who seemed unimpressed that the hoi polloi were cluttering up the view from their hotel.

However, the crowd was friendly, chatty, welcoming and kind. LittleBear was made friends with by a great many middle-aged women who thought he was both lovely, but also patient and well-behaved. I glowed with pride. And this patience was required. We waited at the Dorchester from 10:45. 11am passed relatively quickly. But then came 11:30. And 12:00. Not to mention 12:30, and indeed 1:00. At shortly after 1:30 we began to take tiny shuffling paces forwards. Our feet were already tired and we hadn't even started.

Hanging with the LibDems

The march was a very good natured affair, with people hanging from scaffolding and cheering, people leaning out of windows and starting chants, a general camaraderie of strangers getting to know each other. The chants were largely inoffensive, being along the lines of "What do we want? A People's Vote! When do we want it? Now!" There seemed a certain lack of charity in standing behind the "Labour for Remain" contingent and chanting "Wher-ere's Jer-e-my Corrrrbyn?" but I think any protest where the worst is a slight dig at a politician is going OK.

On the other hand, once we set off, and LittleBear and I slipped ahead of the LibDems, past Labour, through the Greens and into a more general area of unaffiliated marchers, I was forced to confront the meaning of a wider variety of chants, as mentioned. Fortunately LittleBear didn't read all the placards being waved, or I'd have had a lot more explaining to do. As I had a rucksack, a placard and a small boy to keep hold of, I didn't manage to get shots of many placards, but here are a few that caught my attention, one for its wild incongruity. I'll leave you to spot the odd one out.

After being on our feet for several hours, my LittleBear began to seriously flag, despite my efforts to keep tanking him up with food, so the time came when I had to start carrying him for short spells. I tried piggy-backing and I tried simply carrying. Neither were much fun. My ribs hurt. My back hurts. My hips hurt. He is no longer a LittleBear in quite the way he used to be. Nonetheless, by 4:30 we'd made it to Trafalgar Square. We'd passed the massive sign thanking us for taking part, and we only had half an hour till our coach left from Temple Place. So we didn't continue to Parliament Square. I have minor regrets about that, but it was clear that by that time the crowds were generally reaching Trafalgar Square and then dissipating so we didn't exactly miss anything.

Exhausted, we stumbled down the Strand, and finally found our way to our coach, on the dot of 5pm. The miracle was that we were then home by 7:15 and I managed to get LittleBear bathed, fed him pizza, brushed his teeth, read him a bedtime story and got his light off at 8pm. I may be more proud of that than of marching...

Having been awake since 5:15am worrying about losing my LittleBear in the crowds, I think I may sleep well tonight. Goodnight all.


* A Northern Ireland secretary who admitted, "I didn’t understand things like when elections are fought, for example, in Northern Ireland – people who are nationalists don’t vote for unionist parties and vice versa.”; A Brexit secretary who admitted "I hadn’t quite understood the full extent of this, but if you look at the UK and look at how we trade in goods, we are particularly reliant on the Dover-Calais crossing."

** Yes, this had meant leaving the house at 8am, earlier than a school day. We managed surprisingly well, considering.

Glumness takes hold

Today's post will be brought to you in a series of vaguely disconnected half-thoughts, tangled up in a headache with a side-order of sciatica....

Today is election day. And I awoke feeling very depressed about it. Not glad that I live in a time and a place where I can vote. Or looking forward to making my voice heard. Or optimistic about the next five years.

Last time there was a general election, I went to quite some length to express my views as calmly and dispassionately as possible. I can't really be bothered this time. You're either with me or not. And there's only a couple of dozen of you reading this anyway. What does it really matter what I say?

There are two major factors that make me shrug my shoulders when I see anyone try and predict the outcome of the election. Firstly, there is the recent, and widely mocked, inability of the pollsters to accurately forecast how people are going to vote. Secondly there's our ridiculous electoral system. Just as a reminder, last election the percentage change in the vote was as follows:

Conservative    +0.8%
Labour             +1.4%
SNP                 +3%
LibDem            -15.1%
UKIP               +9.5%
Green              +2.8%

And yet the change in numbers of seats was:

Conservative    +28
Labour             -24
SNP                 +50
LibDem            -48
UKIP                +1

And every time I look at those figures, I shake my head in disbelief. Not because they don't reflect the election bringing about the result I wanted, but because they're ridiculous. So, no matter the outcome today, I'm just nailing my rather tired colours to my rickety mast - I believe we would have a healthier democracy that would be more representative of the people if we implemented the recommendations of the Jenkins report and moved away from FPTP to an AV+ electoral system.

The upshot of which is basically I wouldn't be very surprised by almost any result, ranging from a massive Conservative landslide, through a narrow victory, a hung Parliament to a Labout squeak. Honestly, some days it feels like anything could happen, and I have no real gauge on how most people will vote, or how that will be reflected in actual seats. Because I live in a bubble. Not the oft-criticised filter bubble of social media, but a real-world bubble. My friends, for the most part, are liberal (with a small "l"). They're generally left-of-centre anyway. Some of them are more right-wing than I am, but they're in the minority. I go to the pub and find myself socio-politically aligned with most people I talk to. I sit at home and feel despondent with BigBear when we watch the news. My colleagues are generally left-leaning. Over lunch we discuss the burning issues of the day, and mostly have the same slant on them. I can't choose my family, so I don't talk politics with them, and besides which, I don't see any of them very often, and the only one I talk to frequently is a paid-up LibDem. So they never have a chance to prick the bubble of my leftism. Social media hasn't much to do with my bubble, which is physical and rarely impinged upon.

So I trundle along in that little bubble. People who care about the same things as me, who share common values and priorities, and who see the same solutions as me. And then I walk to the shops and see the front page of the vomit-inducing Daily Mail, and Sun, and Daily Express, and I realise that there are millions of people who think in a different way, who believe things that I find genuinely abhorrent, and I want to weep. And I know my small world is small, and my voice is quiet and ineffectual, and I am crying out in a storm.

Despite all that, I will be voting.

I will be voting against the funding cuts to LittleBear's school that will see them receive over £100,000 less every year.

I will be voting against scrapping human rights legislation, because it's not possible to take away the human rights of only "bad" people without taking away mine as well.

I will be voting against the continuing erosion of state support for those in need.

I will be voting against tax cuts for the wealthy and benefit cuts for the poor.

I will be voting against a rise in child poverty.

I will be voting against the creeping privatisation of the NHS.

If you are voting, or planning to vote, Conservative, it doesn't mean I don't like you, but it might well mean I hold you responsible when my son's school can't afford books; I might hold you responsible when my 26-year old friend with a brain stem injury doesn't receive sick pay because zero-hours contracts are such a great idea; I might hold you responsible for the next five years of austerity. I might not. I might just emigrate instead. Because at the moment, I don't really like this country any more.

An unexpected intersection

This is not about a motorway junction that sprung upon me in a surprising fashion. Instead it is about my experience today of an overlapping of two of my major preoccupations: anxiety and politics.

Those of you who live in the UK, and probably even some of you who don't, will have noticed that we have a General Election approaching.

Those of you who've read more than the occasional post here will have noticed that I have a tendency to express reasonably strong political opinions, and that those opinions tend towards the left-wing. I'm not ashamed of either of those things. I stand by my words.

Those of you who've really been paying attention will also have spotted that I have a tendency towards self-doubt and anxiety.

And it turns out that having strong political opinions, using Facebook, and suffering from anxiety and a fear of not being liked are a disastrous mixture. I'm going to preface the rest of this post by saying that it all turns out fine in the end. I wouldn't want anyone worrying on my behalf.

I had been planning to write a blog post about the Conservative manifesto position on social care for the elderly, and their subsequent change in position. Mostly because I think there's an interesting and worthwhile debate to be had about welfare spending on care, on what we (as a country) can afford, what those who have spent 40-50 years paying into the welfare state can expect in return, which benefits should be universal and which benefits should be means-tested (and by benefits I include the social benefits of education and healthcare as well as the financial benefits of child benefit, disability living allowance, income support etc).

I do have serious qualms about telling the elderly that they "should" pay for their own care if they have the money or assets to do so and that they "shouldn't" expect the younger generations to pay for them, when those elderly have spent a working lifetime paying into the welfare state for just this eventuality. They set out on their working lives within a state which promised them care from cradle to grave. And yet now the social contract they signed up to has been broken, and they're being told that we can't afford it, and that we'll look after them if they have a medically treatable condition, but that we won't if they have a medically untreatable condition that nonetheless requires a great deal of care.

Clearly, there is a problem with not enough money in the coffers, and an ageing population requiring more and more care. And there is a problem that wealth inequality in this country is increasing, partly fuelled by the absurd rise in house prices. So I can see there being arguments in favour of trying to ensure that that inequality is not exacerbated and that we don't bankrupt the country in trying to fund everything for everyone. We do need to prioritise spending. We do need to decide what can be afforded and what can't. We are already forced to do so within the NHS, with NICE assessing which drugs and treatments have a good enough cost/benefit ratio. But I cannot find it in me to agree that those whose minds deteriorate, through no fault of their own, are uniquely required to hand over their capital to fund their care, while those who suffer from other ailments are not. It seems fundamentally unjust. I would far rather see a lower threshold on inheritance tax and tighter controls to close the various dodgy loopholes that allow IHT to be avoided*. My idealism would rather we all pay a percentage to mitigate against the vicissitudes of life, not knowing whether we will fall victim to the stroke of terrible fortune that robs us of our minds, than that only the victims of misfortune pay.

Anyway... that was the blog post I wasn't going to write...

What I was really writing about, was making a few remarks on this subject on Facebook, and then finding myself defending my point of view to a friend. (Hello friend! Please keep reading!)

And then I went to collect LittleBear from school, knowing full well that I would be likely to bump into said friend. And I was wracked with fear and anxiety. I kept my sunglasses on, my head down, and sought out a fellow anxiety-sufferer to hide beside in the playground. I didn't want to engage in conversation with anyone, just in case. Just in case my views are weird. Just in case I've been too strident. Just in case I haven't thought things through properly. Just in case I've caused offense to a friend. Just in case she now thinks I'm an idiot. Just in case she doesn't want to be my friend anymore.

I know that for those of you with a rather more strong and stable disposition** this response will seem rather extreme. You may be bemused to hear that my hands were shaking and I was struggling not to cry in the playground waiting to collect LittleBear. I can only try to describe the effect that anxiety has - the cold wash that sweeps through me, the desire to run away, to hide from the world, to never have to speak to another human being. The welling tears that I fight to hide from the world. The terror that I may have put myself beyond the pale, and the escalating thoughts of catastrophe, of not only having lost one burgeoning friendship, but that this effect will sweep like a contagion through the school until there is no-one left who will speak to me. I am not exaggerating. The tears are returning even as I try and write this. The terror, the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, the dread of confrontation, the fear of rejection.

I am blessed in having one particular friend who I know gets it. I know she has had and still has her own battles with anxiety. And I managed to find a few seconds alone with her, to confess, to seek reassurance, understanding, absolution.

And then a voice piped up beside me, "we should carry on our political debate over a glass of wine!" Because the friend I was worried about offending is a normal human being, who interacts with other normal human beings in a completely normal way. And discussing interesting and controversial subjects with empathy, and intelligence, and wit is a completely normal thing to do, and not one that renders normal people into shaking, paranoid messes.

So we went on (without the glass of wine, sadly) to have a perfectly civilised conversation about the subject. And I'm relatively certain she doesn't think I'm a lunatic. Well, relatively certain she didn't think I was a lunatic.

Then I wrote this.

And this has been a hard post to write, and it may be that if you're reading it, the "today" that I refer to is now many days in the past, because I'm not sure that I'm able to admit all this just yet. It feels like a burden to place upon those who know me, who may feel that they have to temper their views, or filter what they say to me just in case PhysicsBear has one of her funny turns again.

But I don't want you to do that, I am not making a comment on you, nor do I want you to feel you have to moderate your words or actions towards me. In fact, please don't. Please, please keep being yourselves, and allow me to be responsible for my feelings, my failings, my fears. And if sometimes I write about those fears here, it's only to try and shed some light on how my mind works, so that if I sometimes seem to react in unexpected ways, those ways don't have to come as a total surprise. And if you too find your mind works the way mine does, you might not feel quite so alone. None of us should feel alone.



* In 2013-2014, only 7.2% of deaths led to payment of inheritance tax. See table 12.3 from the Office of National Statistics for raw data. Generally speaking for the past few years, HMRC are notified of approximately 250,000 estates per year on which tax is not due, and between 15,000 and 20,000 on which tax is due. There really is scope for the country as a whole to move away from the continuing concentration of wealth in fewer and fewer hands. Instead of a few unfortunate people spending the bulk of their life savings on end-of-life care, perhaps all people should contribute to the care of the few, just as we do through the rest of our lives via taxation and national insurance. I know this is not necessarily a popular point of view.

** This is a deliberate joke. I feel the need to explain, in case my American friends don't get it. "Strong and stable" is the election slogan of Theresa May. There have been a lot of comedic riffs on this phrase. That is all.

A drop in the ocean

Call it extreme if you like, but I propose we hit it hard and hit it fast with a major - and I mean major - leaflet campaign.

 Rimmer, Red Dwarf, S3, Ep3, "Polymorph"

Anyone who's known me for any length of time - say more than about 24 hours - will have discovered that my political leanings are generally left of centre. This hasn't always been an easy position to hold, given my start in life. I don't mean either that I started with a silver spoon in my mouth, or by being sent up a chimney aged five. No, I simply started life in the true-blue heartlands of the south-east, attending a private girls' school. 

It was the kind of school where, once my fellow pupils discovered that I was supporting what was then the SDP-Liberal Alliance, I was labelled a Communist. Seriously. A vaguely wishy-washy, unelectable, moderate, centrist party was tantamount to communism. Which was something of a shock after having stood as Michael Foot in my (state) primary school mock election without anyone batting an eyelid, either at my gender or politics.

It was the kind of school where one of my compatriots actually wore a black arm band when Maggie was ousted by her own party. I still hold that in my own mind as perhaps one of the most extraordinary political acts I have ever witnessed in the flesh.

It was the kind of school where I completely failed to convince anybody, ever, that being born to rich parents shouldn't entitle a child to an automatically better education than being born to poor parents. Honestly, it's a mystery. I kept trying to tell the daughters of well-off parents who were receiving a privileged education that having well-off parents shouldn't be a good enough reason to receive a privileged education, and somehow what I was saying fell on deaf ears.

The one thing that I did do as a child, more or less from when I can remember, is deliver election leaflets around the neighbourhood with my mother. 

And I'm now doing the same thing in my own neighbourhood, this time without my mother. And it has led me to conclude that Fen-village is a considerably nicer place to deliver Liberal leaflets than Home-Counties-town. I've even reached the point where I don't feel obliged to deliver leaflets under the cover of darkness just in case.

In Home-Counties-town I used to be terrified of the overweight, middle-aged stockbrokers and lawyers out washing their cars and mowing their lawns, because they would take one look at a scruffy little girl with a yellow leaflet clutched in her sweaty little hand and sneeringly say, "we won't be voting for them, you can keep it". And I would feel mortified. In Fen-village, I nearly sank into the ground the first time I encountered the resident of a house as I attempted to deliver a leaflet. He said, "here, I'll take it". I quaked. But he took it. I felt myself starting to flush scarlet and wonder whether there was anywhere to hide. But he didn't give it back. Or tell me he hated my party. Or wave a blue rosette at me. I nearly fell over instead.

In Home-Counties-town, every other house appeared to be occupied by either a small, yapping, psycopathic dog that wanted to rip my fingers off at the knuckles, or a beast the approximate dimensions and temperament of the Hound of the Baskervilles. In Fen-village there are lots of cats, and they all want to be my friend.

In Home-Counties-town, people had a strange habit of having letter boxes at the bottom of their doors, armed with sprung flaps strong enough to rip your fingers off - perhaps to provide tasty snacks for the psycopathic yappy dogs. Nobody in Fen-village has put their letter box very far from a conventional height.

So I'm now delivering leaflets in daylight, because I'm not quite as scared of the people in Fen-village. Because I'm no longer surrounded by people who keep pets who'd rather eat your liver than have their ears scratched. Because I'm surrounded by people with cats and sensible letter boxes. My people. 

And I'm going to keep delivering leaflets, for all the difference it's going to make. Because there isn't much else I can do, but I want to do something more than just put my "x" in a box. [And if you want to know why I won't be voting blue, and I will be voting yellow, it's pretty much the same reasons as last time].