What’s Covid taught us? Lots. And almost none of it’s good
AS lockdown looms yet again for many of us, it may be an appropriate time to reflect on the lessons of the year so far.
Since March, we have each had to swallow some harsh truths about ourselves and, more importantly, the fundamental nature of British society.
While there has been no shortage of optimistic rhetoric about “building back better”, the sad fact remains that the social and economic trends before the onset of pandemic were already headed south.
The Covid-19 crisis merely accelerated a process which was already well under way – the political, social and economic decline of “Great” Britain.
While the ominous cloud of coronavirus continues to lord over us all, casting its unending shadow over our lives and livelihoods, the true character of British society has been laid so utterly bare that, in the years to come, it may prove to have been the silver lining.
So, what have we learned? Well, we learned (despite the protestations of boomers everywhere) that class remains the primary dividing line in society.
This was evidenced early in the crisis when half the country moved on to Zoom, while the other half brought them food, alcohol, sex toys and breadmakers.
We also learned the state-interventions (previously portrayed by free-market extremists as illiberal inefficiencies that would lead to a socialist dystopia) are actually OK – as long as they are targeted disproportionately at the livelihoods of economically viable, politically lucrative, over-mortgaged sections of the population, whose “staycations”, credit cards, gas-guzzling cars and gym memberships must be covered at all costs.
We learned that after a decade of austerity (which left tens of thousands destitute, homeless, hungry or dead, the “magic money tree” we were told didn’t exist is not only real but has also blossomed so prolifically that the state was able to fork out millions providing discount Nandos (the Tenerife of al-fresco dining) over the summer.
We also learned that “community” and “looking after your neighbour’ are actually important principles and that, when politicians use their public platforms to remind us that it’s OK to regard ourselves as more than rats in a race, the national mood can shift quite dramatically from meanspiritedness and distrust, to compassion, empathy and solidarity.
We have learned that any crisis which may befall the middle and upper classes will be rapidly escalated to the status of a public health emergency within days but that drug deaths, rough sleeping and child poverty, interlocking epidemics spanning decades, still don’t qualify for this special designation.
We learned that governments “follow the science” when it is politically convenient – like when millions of prospective voters find themselves prey to a microscopic foe they know little about – but that leaders actively ignore and dismiss the science when it comes to issues that affect the vulnerable, like drug-addiction and poverty-induced child neglect and abuse. When all of this is over and the cloud vanishes beneath the horizon, the time will come to put what we have learned into practice.
I want to know why it is OK to borrow billions to fund free lunches for the middle classes but it’s not OK to run up a tab building rehabs, schools and social housing.
I want to know why frugal, fiscally-conservative taxpayers (paragons of wisdom that they are) are OK with receiving generous handouts when adversity strikes them but would aggressively deny the same dignity to the disabled, the elderly and the mentally and emotionally traumatised.
And if you are not angry right now, or you do not see the problem here, then I want to know how the hell you sleep at night.
Like a baby, no doubt.