And the bad news comes via Tintin with a wrecking ball

Ituned in to the latest instalment of Hancock’s half-hour in the Commons with a sense of foreboding. Rarely do we hear glad tidings these days; but never is bad news more certain than when the NHS’S baby-faced commandant is involved. Scratch the surface of any madcap authoritarian scheme, and you usually find Matt Hancock’s fingerprints.

Yet, as the Health Secretary unveiled further restrictions in London, Essex, Elmbridge, Barrow-in-furness and North-east Derbyshire, he gave every appearance of reluctance; a man whose hands were tied by circumstances. But his boyish features – eerily reminiscent of Tintin – and his apologetic air masked dictatorial ambitions. “We don’t want to lock you down but, by jingo if we do, we’ve got the police, we’ve got the fines, and Covid marshals, too.”

He addressed MPS in funereal tones: “Mr Speaker, let us be under no illusions about the virus. The threat remains grave and serious.” He dropped his voice to a solemn baritone at particularly weighty moments, perhaps with the evening news clip in mind, though the effect was of a Year 9 trying to sneak into an 18 at the cinema.

He used noble sentiments – “If we work together we can defeat this”, “We all have a role to play in defeating this dreadful disease” – but invoking the collective to describe measures imposed on pain of imprisonment or with huge fines attached is deeply irritating – Orwellian, even.

“I didn’t come into politics to put restrictions on people’s lives and I want people to have as much freedom as possible”, he intoned, as if by rote. Yet given his previous form in grabbing the levers of power with the manic zeal of a deranged wrecking-ball controller, these were unconvincing assurances. In the words of Edmund Blackadder, it was a performance akin to a giraffe in sunglasses trying to enter a Polar Bears Only golf club.

“The thing about this virus is that you can pass it on without even knowing it”, he added. (Bit like other viruses, then). Severe measures are needed, he said, “to keep people safe, and to protect the NHS”.

Ah, the NHS. The Health Secretary never appears in the Commons without his NHS badge, presumably to remind the nation why they are laying down their freedoms. He doubtless pins it on his pyjamas before bed.

“Things will get worse before they get better, but I know there are calmer seas and brighter skies ahead,” he concluded, with a jauntiness that left no one in doubt of approaching gales.

Alas, anyone hoping for relief from the prevailing sense of paralysis would have been disappointed by what followed. Jonathan Ashworth, shadow health minister, called for a two to three-week “circuit breaker” and piteously demanded more financial support for restricted areas.

When could Britain expect weekly, nationwide testing to resume normality, asked Jeremy Hunt – a sensible request, if a tad ambitious. The only thing the Government seems capable of testing right now is our will to live.

At this miserable juncture, the real question is can Matt Hancock be suppressed? I’d feel safer with Snowy the dog in charge than Tyrannical Tintin.