Ever since Donald Trump began his Presidential campaign in 2016, there has been an expectation that his balloon would pop.  People thought that his making fun of a disabled reporter would do it.  Some opined that his offensive remarks about Mexicans would be his undoing.  A lot believed his sexist comments on the Access Hollywood tape regarding grabbing women by the genitals would finish him off.  None of these crippled him: those who disliked him merely had more reason to despise him, myself included.  It seemed that Trump was accurate in his assessment that he could stand in the middle of Fifth Avenue and shoot someone yet not lose any popularity.

Not even an insurrection against the government of the United States turned off his fans.   This was drowned in a flood of excuses and obfuscations.  This continues.

Certainly, he was weakened by the 2022 midterm results: most of his prominent handpicked candidates were defeated.  Kari Lake, the Trump-loving candidate for Governor of Arizona, has pursued election denial to the point of insanity.  Mehmet Oz proved to be a mistake in Pennsylvania, and Raphael Warnock triumphed in an otherwise solidly Republican Georgia. Rupert Murdoch bailed on him. His New York Post said it was time to turn to a new generation of leaders, specifically the Trump-adjacent Governor of Florida, Ron De Santis.   Nevertheless, Trump launched his Presidential bid for 2024.   It was regarded as tepid, lacking 2016’s vigour.  His act has become old.

However, what may have finished Trump off is the selection of the new Speaker.  At the time of writing, Kevin McCarthy has lost six ballots.  There are some 20 Falangists within the Republican caucus who will apparently not endorse McCarthy under any circumstances.  I refer to them as Falangists as this designation may be the closest ideological analogue to the present hard right of the GOP: it was a far right movement in Spain that was instinctively anti-liberal, anti-democratic, sympathetic (at least) to fascists and was key in overthrowing Spain’s democratically elected government during the Spanish Civil War (1936-1939).

Despite the determination of these extremists, McCarthy’s ego will not permit him to give up the pursuit of power.  After all, the Speaker of the House is third in line to the Presidency. 

Trump endorsed McCarthy.  However the 20 Falangists, who supposedly are Trump’s most loyal acolytes, have decided to ignore their idol.  How this will end is anyone’s guess. Their present favoured candidate is Byron Donalds, who is only on his second term as a representative from Florida. His past, Wikipedia states, is somewhat colourful: “In 1997, Donalds was arrested for marijuana distribution; the charges were dropped as part of a pre-trial diversion program. In 2000, he pleaded guilty to a felony bribery charge as part of a scheme to defraud a bank.”

This moment tells us how Trump ends. It’s not when he became too insane for his followers, but rather, too sane.  

It’s painful to say it: from the GOP’s perspective, Trump is right. The Republicans should “take the win”, elect McCarthy Speaker, and start to exercise power and influence. With McCarthy in place, they can launch as many spurious impeachment attempts and investigations of Hunter Biden as they like.  They might even do some damage. 

However, McCarthy wouldn’t give the extremists, who represent less than 10% of his caucus, absolute control, nor should he.  It would create a terrible precedent if a minority could constantly keep their boot on the neck of a Speaker.  Furthermore, McCarthy has no fixed principles or ideas of his own: he will swim with the tide.  This should give the Falangists most of what they want.  They have decided most is not good enough: they want it all.  Trump has suggested, pragmatically, that most is sufficient.  They don’t agree.

Trump was never about detailed policy, but rather, a mood and a style. His base is comprised mainly middle-aged white people who are bewildered by changes to the economy and society.  The economic changes that have occurred since 1970 mean that a factory worker without a college education will find it very difficult to become middle class. This is not how it was in the 1950’s.  The social changes have resulted in far more openness and tolerance towards diversity. Marriage has become much more equal, there is now an awareness (call it “woke”) of historic injustice. 

But what if you were the beneficiary of historic injustice?  What if believing you are superior to say, gay people was a crutch which prevented you from appreciating your own insignificance?  If you felt this way, Trump was your guy; he was a snake oil salesman who told you that it was these other people that made your pay packet smaller and meant you couldn’t say rude words anymore. 

However, once the initial emotional release had expired, there was little to show for it.  There were only two ways forward: admit the mistake or double down.  Enough people admitted the mistake in 2020 to elect Joe Biden.  Plenty of Trump’s supporters doubled down.  Doubling down built on top of doubling down.  Now they intend to burn down the Republican Party as it has hit an organic limit on how far it can double down without repelling mainstream voters.  The Falangists are uncompromising; they simply do not care if this proves to be self destructive.

Take Lauren Boebert, one of the most prominent of the extremists.  She is a representative from Colorado.  She was barely re-elected in the 2022 midterms; yet, her district is solidly Republican.  A mainstream centrist Democrat, Adam Frisch, nearly defeated her: he lost by only a little over 500 votes. Why? While Frisch was an exceptional candidate, her constituents were also fed up with her and her antics.  Did she draw any lessons from this?  No, her return to Congress has been an act of doubling down to the point where she told off Trump (supposedly her “favourite president”) for backing McCarthy.

There was always going to come a point when Trump, the ultimate egoist, had to stop: he wants power, and “his people” were making that ever more difficult to achieve.  The Falangists have no such limits.  Yet they have the energy which helped Trump into power in the first place, and gave him outsized influence in the Republican Party.  This is where Trump ends: where he has to stop, but others do not.  He can only go so far, others don’t care.  He has a somewhat rational, if animal instinct, for self-preservation; the others only live for acclaim by Fox News commentators.  Finally, it may be over for him.  Unfortunately, the “movement” he spawned may carry on. 

Perhaps it was inevitable that Reverend Warnock would win the Georgia runoff.  Reverend Warnock was by far the superior candidate.  Warnock did not discuss the relative merits of being a vampire or a werewolf on the campaign trail.  He had no stench of hypocrisy.  He did not have the backing of Donald Trump.

Whoever persuaded Trump to stay away from the Georgia runoff did the GOP a service.  It has been forgotten: however, Trump showed disrespect to the state of Georgia after the 2020 election. During that now infamous phone call to the Secretary of State Brad Raffensperger, he poo poohed the notion that anyone would move back to Georgia.  Anyone who felt the least amount of pride in their state would have been offended. Perhaps they were not angered enough to vote Democratic, but maybe they were sufficiently outraged to stay away from the polls.  This contributed to Warnock and Ossoff’s victories in the January 2021 runoff.  Had Trump come back to Georgia to help Herschel Walker, what was just a victory for the Democrats may have been much more emphatic.

Herschel Walker is an outlier in a state that largely remained Republican. Governor Kemp cruised to re-election victory as did Raffensperger. What Ji made them different? Trump did not endorse them. Indeed, Brian Kemp’s advisor Jay Walker promised a “scorched earth” strategy against a Trump backed challenger in the gubernatorial primary. It worked. It can be argued that Trump’s opposition helped Kemp because it provided distance. Kemp could appear sane and moderate to voters in places like the Atlanta suburbs.

This pattern was largely repeated elsewhere. Look beyond Georgia: Kari Lake, Mehmet Oz, Adam Laxalt, Blake Masters, all endorsed by Trump.  They all lost.  Trump’s advice to Masters was to keep doubling down on election denial, like Kari Lake did.  Mark Kelly defeated Masters convincingly. Kari Lake’s opponent Katie Hobbs is not conventionally charismatic and in the end, eschewed debating Lake. Most political strategists thought this was insane. However it shows how much Trump repels that a candidate who wasn’t there was preferable to one that Trump backed.

The Republicans are now in a terrible bind. Trump has enough support to win the Presidential nomination in 2024, but it is unlikely he can win the Presidential election.  The constituency which nominates the candidate is so out of synch with the wider electorate that they are baking in future failure.

The Democrats should take limited comfort from this. Winning because you are less terrible is not an endorsement for your policies.  Being better is, of course, better, but that doesn’t necessarily mean you are good or are communicating well.  I feel frequently exasperated by Democratic commentators who reel off lists of legislation passed by Biden and the Democratic congress.   Voters’ eyes glaze over. They see expenditure as a use of their taxation, not as a gift. Unless they feel or see it, it does not register.  No Democratic candidate should mention the  infrastructure bill again. They should take shots of a local road or bridge which was falling into disrepair. Then, they should show the brand new one as a contrast.

Despite these flaws, 2024 sees the Democrats in a good position. Hopefully they will not be complacent. If they are not, the future is likely to unfold this way: first, I suspect De Santis will keep his powder dry and run in 2028. He is young, he can wait: he can gain even more credit by serving out his full second term as governor of Florida, then dip into the fundraiser circuit for a time. Furthermore, by 2028, perhaps the Trump fever will have broken. Given this, it’s highly likely Trump will win the nomination in 2024. Biden will run again. Biden will win because he will talk about the present and future and Trump will go on about his grievances from 2020: he simply cannot help himself. His self-obsession is turning off voters in droves, and key states like Michigan are unlikely to be available to him.

If the GOP focus on investigating Hunter Biden rather than tackling inflation and crime, they will lose the House of Representatives in 2024: again, focusing on the past rather than the present will likely prove lethal.  I believe on present form the Democrats will also hold the Senate in 2024.

Of course, it’s never wise to underestimate contingency.  If the situation in Ukraine turns particularly nasty, or the economy worsens, then Biden is vulnerable, even to Trump.  However Trump is probably the easiest GOP candidate to beat; this highlights the dysfunction in the Republican Party, as the candidate most likely to lose is the one they are most likely to select. 

If the future unfolds in this way, then all focus will shift to 2028.  De Santis will definitely run then; he will probably be tanned, prepared, and relaxed after two full terms and two years of preparing to run.  The Democrats will need to think very carefully about who they can pick to counter him.  

Perhaps we should take another look at Reverend Warnock.  In 2028, his first full term will be coming to an end.  He will have had 8 years in the Senate.  He is eloquent.  As the Guardian newspaper stated: 

“Every candidate needs a story and he has one, telling how his octogenarian mother used her “hands that once picked somebody else’s cotton” to “cast a ballot for her youngest son to be a United States senator”, adding: “Only in America is my story possible.””

He preached at the Ebenezer Baptist Church, the same that once had Reverend Martin Luther King at its pulpit.  De Santis may offer more combat and struggle; Reverend Warnock can offer a pastor’s messages of healing and reconciliation.  It is difficult to assess what America will prefer in 6 years time, but at the time of writing, this sounds good and in tune with the national mood.

December 6, 2022 may be more consequential in hindsight.  It could have sealed not just Trump’s fate and the outcome of the 2024 election. It may also have set in motion what happens in 2028, and perhaps beyond.  There is reason to fear, there is a lot of work ahead, but there is reason to be hopeful too.

I briefly glimpsed how the elite live.  A long time ago, I was the web development manager for a company which published classified ads for boats.  These could be anything from rubber dinghies to large yachts.  Management deemed it important that we present our glossy magazines at a conference of yacht builders and owners.  The gathering was held in Monaco.

My sales colleague was the lead; she was not at all technical, hence, I was invited to come along.  I was there to answer any questions about the website that accompanied the publication.  I ended up carrying a heavy bag full of magazines.

In contrast to most of the attendees, my colleague and I travelled via EasyJet.  We got a taxi from the airport to the principality of Monaco. 

Monaco is an anomaly; it’s an independent state surrounded by France on one side and the sea on the other. It’s known as a playground for the ultra wealthy and for its casinos. It’s also known for Formula 1 racing. There are boutiques featuring clothes and shoes from all the best designers. From what I saw, that was about it. Normal people had to make do with gawping at supercars parked in front of plush hotels, and eating fast food from kiosks. In short, it appeared to be a place for very well off people to flex their wealth and for the rest of us to look at it.

My colleague and I eventually made it to the exhibition.  From the start, it was clear that we had entered a completely different world.  I recall a stand manned by Dassault, the French aerospace manufacturer.  They had colour, wood, and leather samples on display for the interiors of private jets.  A video in the background showed a Dassault private jet flying towards the horizon above clouds that looked like massed cotton buds.  

My colleague and I discovered that rival publications were there. We felt outclassed. Unlike ours, they came in a variety of languages including Russian and Mandarin Chinese. We distributed what we could, had a break to get a soft drink, then scuttled back to the airport and took the first flight home.

The exhibition was a look into a world where someone can see a stand selling a private jet and think, “Yes, I’d like one of those,” write a cheque and have one delivered. However, over ten years after this experience, it seems the ultra wealthy now live in a stratosphere that floats even higher: I doubt they would bother to go to an exhibition, Dassault would perhaps go visit them.

But what is the point?  No matter how wealthy someone is, an individual has only one body.  There are limits to the number of fine meals one can eat, expensive wines one can drink, homes that one can possess and actually live in, beds in which one can sleep.  The amount of luxury that it is possible to consume or appreciate does have definite barriers.  And yet, the ultra wealthy have far more than this.

For the purposes of comparison, Elon Musk paid $44 billion for Twitter. This is sufficient to buy the Washington Commanders American football team nearly 8 times over. He could, theoretically, have bought a number of football teams and created a league of his own. This might have been more profitable, if not more fun.

That said, even if he loses his Twitter investment and has “just a few” billion left, he simply will not feel this loss in terms of his day to day existence. His pride may be damaged, but it won’t change the quality of his living conditions. He has more money that he and his reported ten children can spend in their lifetimes. Musk may have more than his ten children’s descendants can spend. He will never be able to appreciate or realise his wealth except as an abstraction.

There are ways out of the trap; philanthropy is one of the most positive. Andrew Carnegie made a great deal of money and was quite ruthless. However, he did build Carnegie Hall. Carnegie Mellon University is one of the finest in the country. Bill Gates has donated substantial sums via his foundation. If you have more wealth than you can possibly use, then why not use it to better the world around you? At least one’s reputation may grow in stature.

However, some appear to go for idle amusements.  Musk fits into this category.  He is treating Twitter as some sort of personal playground as opposed to a vital utility despite proclaiming its necessity for public discourse.  Some want power. The Koch brothers and their promotion of far-libertarian ideas are an example.  Some find that appetite increases with the eating and continue to build fortunes which are simply no use to them.

Meanwhile, we pay a price for this aggregating inequality. The very wealthy can keep growing their fortunes very easily. If they stick their assets into an index-linked fund, they need not actively intervene in their investments.  Yet wages for most people have stagnated; the standard of living in the United Kingdom is in active decline.  The only people who appear to be able to make a fortune are those who have one already.  

Viewed through this prism, current economic policies, by and large, are wrong. They are based on the notion that the wealthy, if given greater economic power, will invest more in businesses which will stimulate employment and growth. However, the wealthy don’t need to actively invest. Furthermore, most employment in Western economies comes via small and medium sized enterprises. The wealthy tend not to start these firms. Rather, those who have limited access to capital tend to be their initiators.

Small firms usually sustain themselves by appealing to those who have a desire to spend: individuals who require goods and services. Because of the limitation of any one person’s needs, the place to look for customers tends to be among those who aren’t wealthy. Thus, paradoxically, the ultra wealthy don’t necessarily create economic growth and widespread prosperity. Rather, it is via a more even distribution of wealth, i.e. equity, that best outcomes for the many can be achieved.

Although the logic applied here is based upon realistic market conditions, no doubt some would describe it as “radical”, even “socialist”. So be it. However, these ideas may also be “necessary”.

Political systems rely on promises. Some promise order, some offer prosperity, some pledge both. Western democracy has long had the following compact: work hard, and your children will be better off than you are. But what happens if that promise proves to be untrue? In the case of right wing populism, current fallacies stay in place. Minorities receive the blame for the contract no longer being valid. This populism has proven to be so enduring partially because it also contains the thrill of transgression, being able to say and do hostile and offensive things as if it were a natural right.

Unfortunately, the re-emergence of Donald Trump and the continued success of figures like Marine Le Pen suggest that society is not yet willing to face its problems directly.  Rather, it is willing to cater to the absurdity of someone buying a private jet or multiple private jets with a choice of interiors as a matter of mere personal choice, as rather than a symptom that something may be wrong.  If we don’t diagnose the illness properly, then we will never arrive at a cure.  Until we arrive at a cure, we will all stay sick. 

For years, I didn’t think of myself as being autistic: l just thought I was odd or perhaps, eccentric. Small talk and sociability, which came easily to others, was hard work for me. I would engage in conversation but find I could only discuss intellectual topics like politics. The easy, breezy chatter which was readily available to the rest of humanity seemed to be a gift which I did not possess. I recall being at many parties and uniformly feeling awkward: people raised glasses, chatted, laughed, smiled, and toasted. There I was in the corner of the room, feeling excluded from the flow of conversation, cut off, blockaded.

I find being around other people draining; however, this used to indicate to me that I am just an introvert.  My preference is for quiet spaces, quiet music, quiet pursuits.  I do not have feet that itch to go into the centre of a town unless there is a bookstore or a classical music concert involved. Even then, I am often reluctant to go.

At times, I find interactions with others incredibly difficult. If a situation is completely illogical, it’s tough for me to hide how disconcerted I feel; I have had to learn how to hide my emotions and I am not always successful. Complex emotional scenarios, like those in romantic relationships, often leave me bewildered. Whenever people get angry with me, I find it deeply threatening. I try to avoid confrontations. I do my best to go through checklists of things to do in order to avoid people getting angry at me. I have often felt like a burden on others, as if their happiness hinges on my avoiding dumb mistakes, and the pivot often breaks. There is a disconnect: because I am educated and well read, there is an odd assumption that somehow I should always know better.

Thus the world is a confusing, often terrifying place. I find being in my home office with my books, my cats, my CDs and vinyl records is my sole respite. If another person steps into my office, I feel like my sanctuary has been invaded.

Nevertheless, I don’t believe I am a misanthrope. I mean well. I do my best to be kind. I do my best to cope. This often requires a great deal of effort. I have lived like this for as long as I can remember.

At the suggestion of others, I have tried a variety of “remedies” for my condition: for example, I’ve taken anti-depressants. The drugs only put a floor under my anxiety, and not a particularly strong one. The floorboards were often creaking. Eventually, I stopped taking them and apart from once hallucinating that my cat was a wolf, it was a largely trouble free detox. I can’t say that losing the “floor” was particularly harmful, nor was it beneficial.

I sought counselling. During one session I filled out a questionnaire. Lo and behold, it’s highly likely that I have some form of Aspergers. I am apparently high functioning: this prognosis is based upon my ability to deal with social situations, even though it doesn’t come naturally to me. I even ran for office for three times; probably because there was a purpose in my communications, I found it relatively straightforward to talk to others in that situation. However, my inclination is towards the quiet of open spaces and to get as much peace as I can possibly get.

The world is not geared for someone like me.  I am aware that to do anything in life, you have to “put yourself out there”.  We are pelted with the incessant din of idle chatter. I am certain this is challenging for anyone.  For me, however, it requires an additional layer of determination: I don’t even like using the telephone.

The mismatch between how I am and how the world works sometimes leads to darker thoughts. I recently had a skin blemish which I thought might be cancerous: it was not, but I had to ask myself if it was, how would I feel? If I am really honest, abandoning the struggle that life represents sometimes seems ideal. I recall the anger and upset of others in the face of my incomprehension; there is a part of me that wants to shrink back into the tightest corner to avoid any blowback. It’s perhaps natural to have the desire to disappear.

Matters become even more difficult when those around me don’t understand my motivations.  I want to keep saying, “I am trying.  Please, I don’t mean any offence to you or to anyone.  Can you hear me?”  I am rarely heard. 

I am frequently tired.  I keep myself going with coffee.  Animals are also a source of comfort because they understand with just one gesture or word that one means no harm.  Love on their part is uncomplicated and pure; it’s easy to express it in return.

But this is living with “A”, at least it is as how I define it. Perhaps others have better support structures. Maybe others find help more available: to get a referral from the NHS for a therapist would take years. Apparently Elon Musk is “on the spectrum” too; if so, I don’t recognise it. I worry about offending people; he apparently doesn’t care. I worry about making mistakes, he apparently revels in them. If he too is living with “A”, he clearly feels that money shields him from consequences; he does not have the impulse to care or improve. No one said that having “A” as a constant companion made one a nice person, I suppose.

I have not written this piece to inspire sympathy or pity. Despite my obvious hangups, I have achieved much in life. As previously stated, I ran for office. I have channeled my energies into academic and literary pursuits. When I am focused on a piece of work, I can stick with it for a long time without losing concentration. In a way, the “A” can be a strength.

There are comforts too; when my dog Jenny Penny, a bright-eyed long haired dachshund, climbs onto the sofa beside me and falls asleep, I smile. I hope, however, that anyone who has someone like me in their lives can try to understand that this individual is coping, not thriving, feeling under threat, not comfortable. Maybe, just maybe, that awareness will lead to a bit more kindness.

I am old enough to remember the dot com boom. It was like the Palaeolithic Era. It was well before the “tech bros” had evolved, though the Neanderthal versions were there. At the time, I worked for a start up that was attempting to turn itself into a major corporation. The original owner was still around, the original programmer held sway. Documentation and structured working processes were coming in, but they grated against a firm that operated on the basis of intuition and personality.

The culture was often fun but it was also toxic. The teams competed to see who would come in the earliest, stay the latest, drink the most. I wasn’t particularly well paid, but I recall using my limited cash to pay for many late night sessions in London pubs, consuming pints of dark ale. Often, the teams would go to a cafe the next day that was run by a couple from Kazakhstan who served up fried eggs, bacon, and fried bread. I still recall the heavy scent of warm, cheap vegetable oil emanating from the kitchen.

The behaviour was just as destructive as the long hours and the diet. Senior managers began relationships with personal assistants. Alcohol fuelled many instances of post-coital regret. Hurt feelings, perhaps irreparable in some instances, were a result.

Looking back, I see how the tangled weeds of toxic masculinity took root then. In order to impress the owner, one had to show dedication to the work, but the work itself had to be presented with a total confidence that is unwarranted and dangerous in technology – always something can go wrong. Perhaps, the subconscious knowledge that something could blow up was blotted out with alcohol and the bacchanals that occurred nearly every evening. The inappropriate relationships were perhaps the response of drowning people; at the same time, it kept the testosterone levels high.

It ended. The owner sold his firm to a larger, more established competitor. He pocketed millions and walked away. All the practices which had made everything seem like it was poised on the edge of a volcano, were discontinued. Many people, including my team, were made redundant. I left of my own accord. I never worked in such an environment again.

One would have hoped that we would have learned something from this period; my firm was not alone in having this peculiar culture. Staff from other technology firms frequented the same watering holes. Reports of their behaviour were no better than ours. As painful as it was to walk away from a job that I was doing well despite the circumstances, I breathed a sigh of relief: at least the professional era, as I thought of it then, would lead to greater calm and stability. Code would be efficient. Hardware would be appropriate to the task. Decisions would be made on the basis of information rather than instinct.

My hopes have been completely dashed. If there is a symbol of our age, it is the unqualified, uninformed (invariably white) man who “shoots from the hip”; unlike the dot commers of my time, they lack the introspection and inherent doubt to feel any fragility. Rather, they regard offence and destruction as a positive outcome.

Take Elon Musk. He has achieved great things: however, I wonder how much of his “greatness” was facilitated by economic confidence. His father was co-owner of an emerald mine. Having said this, Starlink is a great achievement and is helping Ukraine in its war against Russia.

And yet, he decided to spend $44 billion to acquire Twitter. No sane valuation provided evidence that this was a good idea. Musk has carelessly fired a lot of staff. He has gone onto his platform and pursued users demanding $8 for a premium account. He created a programme that allowed unverified users to look like verified ones. The results have been chaos: an account impersonating Eli Lilly suggested insulin would be free. We were reminded how critical Twitter is for companies to market their news. The stock market instantly took fright and Eli Lilly lost a substantial chunk of its valuation before the matter was cleared up. Lockheed Martin, Chiquita Bananas were all similarly affected.

Musk did not pause: rather, he told his staff he wanted them to be “hardcore” and demanded they come into the office despite Twitter having had a home-based working policy hitherto. It appears this was another trigger for mass resignations. Musk appears to have few, if any regrets. After all, he may have done it for the “lolz” and “owning” people. Neither of these fill a bank account, ensure a business is successful, and add utility of any kind to society.

We see variants of this behaviour across politics and industry. Sometimes they are satirised: the British comedian Josh Berry created “Rafe Hubris”, a PR consultant and “early stage tech investor” who offers advice to Conservative politicians. All of his counsel is bad and completely lacking in self awareness. “Hubris” is notable for wearing red trousers, talking in a plummy accent, and having zero doubt.

Perhaps the ultimate expression of this whole “tech bros” culture is Donald Trump. He says whatever pops into his head, no matter how untrue, self-serving and self-destructive. He wants to “own” his opponent, he is perhaps doing it part for the “lolz” and again, has zero conscience about the lives wrecked, the people tricked, the destruction wrought. His followers perhaps wish they could be just as liberated from the qualities of self-restraint and responsibility; however, these qualities are what define a civilised society.

I am a straight, white man. Despite this background, I find the pursuit of “lolz” and “owning” to be futile, nonsensical, and hurtful. Musk may be laughing into his mug of whatever he’s drinking, but a lot of people depend on Twitter to find accurate information, to market their goods and services, and interact with their friends. His former employees sunk their talents into its progress; they now have to worry about how they are going to pay their mortgages and finding jobs in a tech sector that has recently been affected by mass layoffs.

However, Elon is now able to tell whomever that it was a great ride. He can boast that he offended a lot of people, what a laugh it was, and yeah, he’s still richer than God and Donald Trump is knocking on his door. Should he let him back on? Yeah, Musk might say, just for the lolz. It doesn’t matter if democracy is collapsed as a result. And here we arrive at the central proposition of the tech bros: whatever they want, whenever they want it, supersedes any other consideration. If it amuses them, it should be done.

I am old. The phrase “barbarians at the gate” has been used many times in my lifetime. We perhaps should have worried less about them being outside our enclosure, than them rising within our institutions. And if our institutions are so weak as to not produce sufficient “antibodies” to repel them, what good are they?

Picture the following scenario: a leader of Russia has been in situ for circa two decades.  He is credited with leveraging higher oil prices into increased living standards for his people.  This leader has clamped down, stamping out any green shoots of dissent.  Critics of the regime are forced to go abroad or languish in the prison system.  Politics are ossified; this is presented as stability.  An American observer likens this leader’s regime to Tammany Hall and refers to the system he has built as “boss-ism” with the leader at the apex of the pyramid. 

America has been shaken by internal dissension after a Republican President left office under a cloud. A long-term conflict has ended in what has been perceived as a defeat. A recently elected Democrat President is viewed as somewhat weak.  It’s a time of high inflation.  This Russian leader thinks he and his ideology is winning.  At this moment, the Russian leader in question decides to institute regime change in a neighbour to make it more to his liking. What follows is a war that earns international opprobrium and begins an unwinnable conflict against a foe whose populace hates the Russians with a passion.

These events, which so well align to the present day, describes the position of the Soviet Union during the 1970s under the leadership of Leonid Brezhnev.

A Forgotten Time

The Brezhnev epoch may be the most under-studied episode in Russian history.  It’s relatively straightforward to get biographies of Lenin.  Works about Stalin exist in abundance.  Khrushchev was the subject of a magisterial biography by William Taubman.  Gorbachev is also well represented.  However, given that Brezhnev oversaw the USSR for 18 years, it seems odd that there is so little published about him.  The comparison of Brezhnev to Tammany Hall politicians came from the American writer John Dornberg in his 1974 tome.  Another prominent biography of the man in English (“Brezhnev: the Making of a Statesman”) wasn’t released until 2021.

Perhaps scholars are repelled by the man’s pomposity: he awarded himself the Hero of the Soviet Union medal four times.  He was similarly generous towards himself with awards of the Order of Lenin and the Order of the October Revolution. In total, he had 114 medals.

Perhaps he has been dismissed because he represented a time of ossification: few things symbolised this “set in aspic” quality better than the Lada car.  Based on the Fiat 124, which was first introduced in 1966, the Lada changed only marginally over time.  A 1980’s Muscovite was forced to drive a vehicle that belonged to two decades before.

Perhaps he also has been forgotten because of his policy failures: he set in train the war in Afghanistan, which shed the blood of Soviet youth for no good end.  It should have embedded a lesson in Russia’s collective consciousness: don’t invade a country full of people who hate you, no matter how small and less powerful they may seem.

Maybe he also has been memory-holed because he and his regime created a culture that led to catastrophes like the Chernobyl disaster: it was a nervous, fragile order that prioritised comfortable lies, such as about the safety of RBMK nuclear reactors, over difficult truths.  Yes, there were problems with the design of the reactor at Chernobyl, the targets of the Five-Year Plan were a nonsense, and falsehoods had become endemic.  Trying to untangle the lies, as Gorbachev did, was a contributing factor to the Soviet Union’s collapse.

And now Putin

If we look at Putin today, it’s not difficult to see how he has emulated Brezhnev, though this is likely unconscious on his part.  He too is afflicted with self-love to an unhealthy degree: witness his willingness to be pictured with his shirt off.  Under his reign, the pop group “Poyushchie vmeste” released a song called “A Man like Putin”, a shameless cult-of-personality work.

Putin let Russia ossify, perhaps on purpose.  For example, despite Russia having many fine scientific minds, he has not been able to leverage brainpower into wealth.  There is no Russian equivalent to IBM or Apple.  Its closest equivalent to Facebook, VK, was taken over by the state in December 2021 and its CEO was forced to step down.

Putin may regard creativity as dangerous: it says much that the recent wave of Russians that have left the country are likely among its most skilled.  The BBC reported on March 13 that some 200,000 have fled, including “tech industry professionals who can work remotely”.  Creativity, however, is the main means by which developed countries create growth.

Furthermore, the Ukraine invasion has shown up the comfortable lies that presently surround him: he believed that it would be a blitzkrieg and Ukraine, led by a “comedian” president would crumble.  However, Putin’s army was less strong than it appeared: it has been reported the Russian Army’s vehicles are not well maintained, conscripts were sent into battle without knowing why, the column outside Kyiv stalled, then was strafed, and punished by the superior technology given to the Ukrainians.  The “comedian” president turned out to be, as one Ukrainian social media video stated, an “Iron Joker”.

Look at Putin again: see him seated at his overly large tables, his face puffed out for reasons which can only be speculated (Botox? Steroids?), his fearful cabinet, hesitant and frightened to contradict him.  Like Brezhnev, Putin’s kingdom rests on brittle glass.  Like Brezhnev, he has miscalculated, and he may be suffering from a lack of accurate information. The supply of falsehoods may buy the advisors another day out of prison, but only prolongs the agony.

The End

Brezhnev’s term ended because his body failed him: by the end of the 1970’s, it was clear he had suffered a series of strokes.  According to the British historian Dominic Sandbrook, resuscitation equipment was kept with him to keep him going perhaps longer than he would have otherwise.

How will Putin fall?  There is speculation that he has Parkinson’s; however, this is mere conjecture.  Perhaps he will be “retired” in much the same way Khrushchev was in 1964: the Politburo in effect fired him, and Khrushchev was subsequently kept out of the public eye, dying in 1971. 

Perhaps Putin’s departure from office will be more dramatic; like Brezhnev, he has set in motion the same elements that eventually caused the collapse of the Soviet Union.  Perhaps the most vital presage of eventual ruin is the lack of truth: a well-informed regime would attack neither Afghanistan nor Ukraine, it would not prioritise lies.  Lies have a way of collapsing in a dramatic fashion, as they did at the end of the Soviet period.  It is merely a question of when they crumble, not if.

Every so often, I get emails from America which give me an insight into what is going on in the minds of Trump supporters. The latest in this series is entitled “Rowboat for You”.

The email’s title is based upon an old parable in which a someone trapped by a flood is passed by a series of rowboats. The protagonist refuses them, saying God will save him. He eventually drowns, and then in the afterlife asks God why He never came. God replies that He sent those rowboats, what did the man want?

This long and rather tediously written screed suggests that Trump is the “rowboat” in this instance. It suggests that he is the only life preserver which will help America float against the tide of radical leftism which will destroy the country. I had difficulty picturing Biden in a Che Guevara pose, but nevertheless, this was the stance the author of this email was taking. Biden, and those around him, represent a fundamental threat to America’s way of life and its “Judeo-Christian Values”. This election, apparently, is America’s last chance to save itself. I have heard this before: I heard it in 1992, 1996, 2000, 2004, and so on. Substitute “Bill Clinton” or “Barack Obama” for “Biden” and it reads much the same.

The author initially admits that Trump makes him cringe. He confesses that Trump often says daft things. However, he also states that Trump is a “fighter” and a “patriot”. It then goes on to denounce the virtue of niceness, saying that Romney, Paul Ryan, et al were “nice” and “gentlemanly” and it didn’t get them anywhere. It even suggests that God isn’t always nice, look at World War 2. We needed “vicious SOBs” like George Patton to win it, apparently. Indeed, Trump is not just a “rowboat”, he is a “battleship”.

I am certain that this email circulated to a mainly white, middle class and definitely male audience. I am sure that many were nodding their heads in agreement with the text. They say to themselves: why, life isn’t nice. Trump is coarse, but he represents my values. We need to take the lifeboat and give him a second term; maybe the Democrats will wake up and become Republicans. Make America Great Again, despite it being brought low by the man in charge and his party.

This more than delusional email is perhaps the most egregious recent example of what’s called “Fetishist Disavowal” – a state which be summarised by saying, “I know very well but”. I know very well that Trump is crude and awful and a dreadful human being and not an avatar of Christian values, but he is the rowboat. Or battleship. He will protect my way of life, they say to themselves.

As this example suggests, Fetishist Disavowal is a cop out, an excuse. Previous political examples include Brexit. Many MPs know the truth, it will hurt the economy, damage Britain’s prospects and its standing in the world. I know very well, but….I have to do what Nigel Farage says because Brexit supporters might vote against me. Or worse.

The release from the coronavirus lockdown is another example. We know very well that a premature ending of lockdown will kill people, but….we have to re-open the economy. Or we have to send children back to school. Or these people would die anyway due to co-morbidities. Anything, just so we don’t actually have to look at the fact that an economy that can’t adjust to a global pandemic and allow lives to be saved is one that is deeply flawed.

The failure to tackle climate change is also another example. We know very well that climate change is the biggest issue facing the planet, but…we don’t want to increase unemployment. We don’t want to face into the costs of decarbonising the economy. We don’t want stop eating meat. We would rather be deluded than have a future.

If there is a commonality between all these examples, it is its reliance on conspiracy theorists, reality deniers, and keyboard warriors with Caps Lock firmly stuck in the “On” position to spread them. More perniciously and significantly, it offers a reason not to do what is right.

Yes, the more intellectually stunted may not know very well; but there is a significant portion which does know better. However, there is always that “but”. It is a very big “but” indeed: it allows the strictest of fundamentalist Christians to justify to themselves voting for a serial adulterer who had an affair with a porn star, or grants them excuses for continuing to destroy God’s good Earth.

Trump is not some sort of “battleship” or “rowboat”. He is not a patriot; as his current and former wives can attest, his only loyalty is to himself. Everything else is secondary. He is also not some sort of fighter just because he is rude to journalists. When he was called to serve his country, he developed bone spurs. He cannot withstand the tiniest pinpricks to his ego; he lashes out at anyone who dares suggest that he is doing anything other than winning or is anything less than superb. He even went so far as to denounce Fox News for questioning him recently, and expressed his sadness that Roger Ailes, a serial sex abuser, was no longer running the channel.

Trump’s Cabinet, full of intellectual pygmies unable to do anything other than flatter and abase themselves, is testament to his weakness. The author of the email should know this. It would not take much examination to see it. He may know very well, but….

I am not suggesting enthusiasm for Joe Biden is warranted. I’ve stated this election is a choice between “Argh” and “Meh”. Having said that, it is also a decision about whether or not we want to continue to indulge in fetishist disavowal. We know very well but…can we not linger in dreams longer, in which science is unimportant, and reality can’t touch us? The problem is, the dawn always comes, and with it, reality. We can either face into it, or be crushed by it once we can hide from it no longer.

I used to work in political communications; I was a volunteer. I wrote articles, campaigns, press releases, even an MP’s Maiden Speech. I took a step back from that in recent years, but nevertheless, I am still keenly interested in it. I have stood for the Labour Party as a candidate; by and large, I support the Democrats in America. The frustration both parties have given me is similar to watching a beloved relative consistently having accidents because they weren’t watching where they were going.

I was frustrated with the Labour campaign in 2019, because there were too many policy pronouncements for the voters to absorb. It contrasted poorly with the simplicity of the Tory message of “Get Brexit Done”. The Tory message was a lie, of course, but it was memorable. The Tories tapped into the country’s boredom and frustration with the Brexit process. It worked. Certainly, reality has proven to be far more messy, but that’s a worry that the Conservatives can postpone until 2024.

From afar, I see the Democrats standing on the end of the proverbial rake in the yard and getting whacked in the face by the handle. The ads from the Democrats so far are far less effective than those put out by never-Trump Republicans like those at the Lincoln Project. The Lincoln Project has been scoring direct hits, showing Trump’s alignment to symbols of the racist Confederacy, and how far he is from the ideal President. Some ads contrast Trump to Lincoln and General Mattis: Trump looks like a self-involved, incoherent psychopath in comparison. I fully expect the Lincoln Project to keep drawing blood. But where are the Democrats?

I suggest that Biden needs to be more the President than the President is. There have been some signs of this: the serious speeches, the calls for unity, even standing at a podium with American flags, all suggest that he is a return to respectability and sanity. However, he will need to step this up; in my opinion, he should assemble a “Shadow Cabinet”, appoint people who will be ready to take charge from the moment he becomes President. These appointments could become an opportunity for him to contrast positively to the inept advisors around Trump.

There is one choice that Biden must make soon: he has to pick a running mate. Indications presently are that he will pick Senator Kamala Harris of California. I believe this could be an unforced error.

I will begin by stating that I like Senator Harris. I think she has a highly engaging personality and has strong credentials. However, she is from California; this is a state that Biden has in his column anyway. Furthermore, “California” is likely to be a millstone hung around the neck of any candidate who is going to the Midwest. With Pence in tow, Trump has someone from that area to counter.

Given this, I believe that Biden has two potential choices: Rep. Val Demings of Florida and Sen. Tammy Duckworth of Illinois.

Senator Duckworth was in the Army Reserve; she served as a helicopter pilot in the Iraq War. She had both her legs blown off when her helicopter was hit by a rocket propelled grenade fired by Iraqi insurgents. When she retired from the Illinois National Guard in 2014, she had the rank of lieutenant colonel. Her education credentials are impressive: she has a PhD in Human Services from Capella University which she earned in 2015. Among other things, she was honoured by the Daughters of the American Revolution; her father’s lineage goes all the way back to that time.

It would be incredibly difficult for Trump and Pence to take the line of “duty, honour, country” with Lt. Col. Duckworth as the VP. Pence would look like a shadow of a patriot compared to Duckworth’s sacrifice, he doesn’t nearly have her credentials. It’s highly likely she would make mincemeat out of him on the debate stage. It would be a move to wrap the Democratic ticket in the Star Spangled Banner. One of the few institutions that inspires any trust any longer is the military; Duckworth has served, Trump and Pence did not. Who knows what it is like to sacrifice for the country? Furthermore, Duckworth is Midwestern and thus the “coastal elite” label in her case makes no sense.

An alternative candidate, who apparently is already being vetted, is Rep. Val Demings of Florida. Rep. Demings has not been in Congress for long: she only began there in 2017. Prior to this, she was the Police Chief of Orlando, Florida. She has served in the police for 27 years. It is this service which may very well be suited to our present day. If there is someone whom Biden could tap immediately to oversee police reform, it would be her. She could put forward detailed policy proposals; these would be far more informed by practical experience than anything Trump and Pence have to offer. Again, I believe she would make mincemeat of Pence, particularly when discussing the current issues that trouble the nation. Furthermore, Demings is from Florida: while this is also Trump’s present home state, Demings may stimulate more Floridians to come out and vote Democratic.

Again, suggesting these two candidates is no slight on any others. Stacey Abrams did the near impossible in Georgia. Kamala Harris is engaging, bright and has a great future in politics. Both should be included in a Biden Administration; perhaps both should be offered positions in a Biden “Shadow Cabinet”.

However, campaigns are like prolonged conflicts; you try to bring to bear your strengths against your opponents weaknesses. Trump’s main weakness is simple: he is a phony. He has hugged the flag but has never sacrificed for it. He appeals to patriotism but has never done anything that doesn’t indicate love for himself first. He says “America First” but the biggest gainers from his malign reign have been America’s enemies. Biden can use the talents within his party to highlight that Trump is a fake in every respect. I hope for the sake of the world that he does so.

It could have been very simple.  Boris Johnson could have sacked Dominic Cummings as soon as he had evidence that his special advisor had broken lockdown rules.  Johnson would have strengthened his authority by the move: he could have come out to brief the press, stared at the camera, and looked straight down the lens with a clear gaze.  He could have said, “The rules apply to everyone, no matter what their role is within this government.  It is clear that Mr. Cummings broke the spirit if not the letter of those rules, therefore there is no place for him here.  I have relieved him of his duties with immediate effect.”

The tabloids would have cheered.  The Daily Mail, no doubt, would have run a headline calling him the “Iron Prime Minister”.  The Daily Express would have used the adjective “steely” in relation to him and praised his fairness and resolve.  The Daily Telegraph would have made up some editorial praising the return of strong, authoritative government.  The Times would have also run some piece on the refreshing change that the coronavirus had wrought in Johnson, suggesting that he had risen to the role which he had sought for so long.

Of course, nothing of the kind occurred. Our government is the most simultaneously fearful and privileged since Louis XVI worried about the sans-culottes busting down the door of his palace.  Dominic Cummings’ behaviour echoes Louis XIV: “L’etat c’est moi”.  Let the sans-culottes sit on a Tube train wearing a thin mask or crouch in a Lewisham bedsit.  He would not be denied his trip to his father’s Durham estate, nor be prevented from taking his wife to a beauty spot for her birthday. 

It could have been simple in America too.  The Governor of Minnesota, the Mayor of Minneapolis, could have reacted instantly to the murder of George Floyd by the police.  They could have reassured the public that this isn’t right and would be put right immediately.  They could have sacked the 4 officers involved in the incident at speed.  President Trump could have stayed out of it; lest his voice add to the din.  Has these officials been more responsive and responsible, perhaps the wildfires of reaction to police brutality would not have burned as ferociously.

It could also have been straightforward in India too.  Rather than allow members of his party blame Muslims for the pandemic, Prime Minister Modi could have said that the coronavirus has highlighted that no matter one’s faith, we are all equal in the eyes of God, and we are just as susceptible to nature’s wrath as each other.  Such rhetoric could have united his fragmented country and strengthened his government.

China too is guilty of making things more complicated than they should have done.  The authorities have shown some level of repentance by making the doctor who initially raised the alarm about the coronavirus something of a public martyr and a hero of the state.  But what mechanisms are now in place to ensure that such a hero is never maltreated again?  And what is the point of cracking down on Hong Kong now?  Populists in America and elsewhere are looking to blame China for the coronavirus: tightening the screw on students demanding freedom only pours more petrol on the flames.

Brazil is now experiencing the depths of the pandemic.  Rather than supposedly prioritise the economy over effectively dealing with the coronavirus, President Bolsonaro could have realised that the health of the people and the health of the economy are linked.  He could have demanded a quick lockdown like New Zealand did, and spared his people the death and turmoil that they are presently experiencing.

In short, this is an era of missed opportunities.  These nations all provide potent examples.  In addition, we as individuals are apparently not learning the lessons proffered by the pandemic.  We should have come to the realisation that humanity is frail and vulnerable.  One virus can knock our global trading system flat.  One virus can wreck public finances.  One virus can force us to isolate from those we love.  One virus can alter our destiny in the blink of an eye.  Does this make us more cautious?  It doesn’t appear to have done so, if the crowds on beaches are anything to judge by.

We should also take this opportunity to look at the damage we have wrought on our planet.  Because of lockdown, the skies in some cities are clearer than they have been for a very long time.  In this all too brief pause in humanity’s attempt at ecological suicide, wild animals have retaken territory, we can hear birdsong which was once drowned out by traffic.  The canals of Venice have cleared and the swans have returned.  The air we breathe is purer and our carbon emissions have temporarily collapsed; even the dreams many of us have experienced are more vivid than they were before, perhaps it is a by-product of sleeping in silence.

However, we are on a quest to return to “normal”; lest we forget, the “normal” we seek was no paradise.  We apparently were so busy with “business as usual” that the stillness that thought requires couldn’t find us.  Perhaps that’s the most dangerous element of this period, at least from the perspective of those in power.  There is time for us to think; there is time to contemplate the depths of incompetence of those in power.

Whether we are ready for it or not, lockdown is ending.  Some schoolchildren in the United Kingdom returned to class today.  Car dealerships have re-opened: should we wish to spew more pollution into the atmosphere, the tools to do so are available for purchase or lease.  Soon stores which have previously been classed as “non-essential” will re-open, making available things that we didn’t apparently need all that much.  The din of modern life will resume, increasing in volume until it drowns out thought again. Once more the birdsong which has been the feature of lockdown mornings will be drowned out by honking horns and traffic congestion.

If we are fortunate, however, we will be forever changed by what we’ve experienced these past few months. The blatant incompetence of the authorities should be crystal clear by now.  Maybe, just maybe, we’ll demand and get change.

Before I begin this piece, I will add a disclaimer. I am a white person in my late 40’s. I have grown up in a white neighbourhood. There were people from a broad variety of backgrounds in my school, but these tended to be the exception rather than the rule. Although I lived in big metro areas, specifically, just outside New York City and inside London, my experience of these places was cosseted by my upbringing.

When I mention “white privilege”, no doubt, a lot of people who have a similar background to me will be tempted to say, “What privilege? Life is hard!” When one looks at some of the poorer locales in the West, this privilege can seem like not much of a benefit. There are places where the majority of residents are just as white as I am and are wracked with misery and unemployment, domestic violence, and despair . When I talk about “white privilege” and “white supremacy”, it is not to minimise the suffering that occurs there.

White privilege manifests itself in the strength of headwinds which blow back against the individual. For example, a young white man recently did the following experiment: he went out running. He was carrying a television set. No one stopped him. Furthermore, he claimed people waved to him and smiled. Ahmaud Aubery, an African American man, went jogging without a television under his arm: he was shot and killed by a retired police officer and his son. It took a great deal of pressure on Georgia’s state government for the case to be treated as a homicide. Therein we see the privilege: the assumption made by passersby was that the white jogger had a legitimate reason to be running with a television; Mr. Aubery was assumed to be up to no good. This prejudice was reflected in the authorities’ inaction. Expand this premise out and you can see why there have been so many cases of African Americans dying in police custody.

Other headwinds are economic. One effect of Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s time in office was to expand home ownership. Agencies were set up to facilitate mortgage lending. However some areas were deemed too risky; this practice was known as “red lining”. Red lining directly disadvantaged African American communities. Without home ownership, it was much more difficult for minority communities to build up wealth. Sub-prime mortgages eventually appeared: but these were granted on the assumption that those who took them out would pay higher rates of interest. When this premise collapsed after 2007, so did the financial markets.

Another headwind is cultural. I live in Britain; I speak with an American accent. The most I can expect is to be teased about not pronouncing “battery” or “aluminium” correctly. If an African American speaks in their accent in the United States, they can often expect to be told to “speak proper English”, as if the way they speak is something to be eliminated.

None of this is to say that the life of every white person is particularly blessed. The son of a coal miner in the wilds of West Virginia may find it difficult to pull themselves up by their bootstraps. Their school may be of limited value. They may find that good paying jobs aren’t available. Nevertheless, the headwinds they face into are generally less: they can go for a run and not fear that they may get shot and that the perpetrator won’t be prosecuted. They can see a police officer and not worry about being misinterpreted. They can apply for jobs and not wonder if they ought to use a different name to get to the top of the pile of resumes.

White privilege continues white supremacy; we would like to think it’s a relic of the past. For example, Léon Rom, pictured at the beginning of this article, was a colonial official in what was once known as the Belgian Congo. The Belgian Congo was a result of perhaps the most egregious exercise in white supremacy, the so-called “Scramble for Africa”, which occurred in the late 19th century. European powers decided to divide up an entire continent without consulting anyone who lived there. Belgium, thanks to the diplomatic manoeuvres of King Leopold II, managed to get a giant slice of central Africa: he looted the so-called “Congo Free State” for rubber and ivory, which was collected with slave labour. Leopold regarded this as the natural order of things; he went so far as to regard himself as the Congo’s “proprietor”. Rom was one of the many agents Leopold sent to gather the loot. In his spare time, Rom collected butterflies; he painted. In some respects, he was cultured. However, he also kept severed heads of Africans in his garden as a warning. He wrote a book about African customs which was racist, pompous, and dismissive. He saw nothing wrong with this. He saw this as the natural order of things.

Rom has been by and large forgotten, except as a possible model for Kurtz in Conrad’s “Heart of Darkness”. We’d like to think we’re beyond this; we’re embarrassed by racist caricatures and want to be politically correct. The average Belgian sees their life as hard and doesn’t look up and notice that many of the grand edifices in Brussels and Antwerp were paid for out of the slavery and misery of others. The double L symbol of Leopold II still adorns public buildings; the magnificent palace Leopold built at Laeken still stands, the Belgian Royal Family lives there. 60 years after Belgians quit the Congo, the Belgians benefit from white privilege though they may not know it. We all do: some people may be reading this via a mobile phone. Many of the rare earths and materials used in its construction come from the Congo, and those who gather them are paid a pittance. Not to do so would ensure their starvation. This is not much different to the system that Leopold II put in place. We should be conscious of these facts, and begin the hard task of removing white supremacy and privilege; until then, we are collectively no more civilised than Rom was, specifically, only on the surface.

It is not solely a person of colour issue; Muslims face into similar prejudices. They are excluded from identification with the wider life of the nation. Change, when it occurs, is often because the pressure of injustice is too much for any society to bear. I submit this is what led to the Civil Rights Act of 1964. Otherwise, it happens slowly: one relationship at a time, one friendship at a time, one disaster at a time which forces society to cohere more closely. Hopefully the coronavirus situation, as terrible as it is, will show us that we are all human and vulnerable. The fact that minorities have been dis-proportionally hit by the coronavirus demands answers. But even if the barriers are eroded, they are unlikely to magically disappear.

It’s in everyone’s interests for white privilege to end. It’s very clear that people like me, older white males, haven’t done a particularly good job of running things. The economy’s rules, much of which are epitomised by the swaggering machismo of (mainly white, male) business channel commentators, is not delivering better outcomes for all. Meanwhile, generally speaking, the countries which have responded most effectively to the coronavirus have one thing in common: they’re not led by white men. It should disgust and repulse any person with a conscience that the colour of one’s skin or one’s creed could provide an instant assumption about what that person is like, their depths, their inner qualities. Yet this prejudice floats above society, like a storm about to break, with the occasional lightning flashes and thunder roaring. “Civilisation” as presently constituted, is in a state of gradual collapse; the Earth roils at what a terrible job we’re doing. The seas are full of plastic, the skies thick with carbon, the coral reefs bleach, species upon species die. We need change, and quickly: perhaps the way forward would be to understand that no one person, no one category of people, has a monopoly on truth, nor a right to civilisation. It is the inheritance of all humanity, to develop and improve.