The chaos is the point

Ben Wildsmith

Deciding how seriously to take things is becoming a real challenge.

We are in permanent crisis and have been since the 2008 financial crash. Austerity flowed into the division and political violence of the Brexit referendum.

Then the pandemic shut down life as we know it and its aftermath coincided with the return of war in Europe to usher in the cost-of-living crisis that we’re enduring now.

It’s psychologically impossible to afford all those events the gravity they deserve. It’s been so relentlessly harrowing, for so long that we have to ration our emotional engagement with current affairs as a survival strategy.

Batshit

How we feel about life in the UK is further complicated by the sheer, batshit weirdness of much that is unfolding in front of us.

Whether I’m watching an occasional guest host from Have I Got News For You sit in front of a flag and tell us all to remain in our homes on pain of arrest, or I’m staring at a bottle of olive oil in Lidl muttering, ‘Eight quid, seriously?’ everyday life seems to veer out of known parameters so frequently that my conception of reality is threatened. I can’t be alone, can I?

This week has been another in which a year’s worth of processing energy has been expended. Monday’s news from Southport was so horrifying that, in the past, we’d have allocated some time to digest it properly, to feel the unfathomable sadness in the air and breathe it as an act of empathy.

Those days are gone, though. In six days since the tragedy, we’ve seen it bent through a demonic prism of bigotry and personal ambition. When we should have been lighting candles, we’ve been giggling as a rioting imbecile was smacked in the knackers with a stray brick, or cheering on a police dog who knows a fascist backside when he sees one.

Not to laugh at the high farce of much that is going on would be to surrender to its insane logic. We laugh when we can because if that’s taken from us, what is left?

Despair

Mid-chortle, though, the true degeneracy of it all ushers us back into despair. Just when it seems possible to understand the riots as the latest opportunity for a perennial minority of coked-up beer boys to disgrace themselves, the picture shifts to reveal people of colour being tactically isolated so they can more easily be attacked.

Today, a Rotherham hotel housing migrants has been set on fire. People in this country who were living in peace last week are now in fear.

Of all the absurdity we’ve witnessed, I was struck by the burning of a Citizens Advice Bureau. These little beacons of humanity have long been the last resort for people who couldn’t fathom the unknowable cruelties of the system.

Years ago, when I was lost, I turned up at one in debt and at the end of my tether. They gave me a cup of tea and began calling my creditors, explaining my situation and negotiating payment plans when I was way past being capable of those conversations.

I don’t care what perceived grievance the mob harboured when it burned down the CAB in Sunderland but, for absolute certain, I know it wasn’t done on behalf of the ‘ordinary people’ the rioters pretend to represent.

The ‘ordinary people’ I know are caught between laughing, crying, and numbed stoicism. We’re walking along derelict high streets, driving over potholes, trying to find a dentist, being sent round a call centre maze if we ever need anything.

Poorer 

We’re poorer, sicker, and less confident than we used to be because we’ve been living through permanent decline and instability for decades.

These riots are a vile performance, orchestrated by sinister forces and acted out by clowns. Early indications are that the foot soldiers will face harsh justice and the rest of us will lose a chunk of civil liberties in the process.

If the government is serious about addressing these events, it needs to go further than that. Sitting in front of flags and threatening the populace with Chinese-style facial recognition technology may look robust but it’s remedial at best.

A Labour government, of all things, should be pursuing the financial interests behind toxic disinformation loudly and as a matter of principle. More broadly, it should be pinning the blame for our diminished circumstances where it belongs, around the necks of corporations that have so ruthlessly drained the vitality from national life.

After a landslide election, we should be seeing radical action from the government to redress years of underfunding and widening inequality.

Profiteering

Put simply, after the unfettered profiteering of 14 years under the Tories, ‘ordinary people’ need to feel change. George Osborne, this week, referred to Rachel Reeves as ‘mini-me’ and observed that her economics were similar to his own efforts.

George’s efforts brought chaos into the lives of us all. Every interaction we have with the state is marred by unsustainable workloads, understaffing, and a lack of facilities. Some of us have died as a result. For Labour to persist with the economics that caused all this is recklessness posing as caution.

The UK’s chaotic civic life now has a correlation in scenes on its streets. If Labour does not do the job it was founded for and restore a quality to public services that dignifies the populace, it will further normalise dysfunction.

Be sure that Musk, Farage, ‘Robinson’, and the rest want them to carry on as they are. For them, the chaos is the point.