Ron Ferguson It shouldn’t take disaster to bring out best in us

This continues to be the worst of times and the best of times: callous acts of terror and a fire that consumes human lives at terrifying speed, followed by spontaneous generous responses that take one’s breath away and bring tears to the eyes.

The reactions to the Manchester bombing outrage and to the Grenfell Tower disaster showed humanity at its best.

In Manchester, we saw defiance, solidarity, open-handedness and kindness – all in response to seeing humanity at its worst, in the shape of the callous slaughter of children, women and men.

The appalling fire at Grenfell Tower, London, the death toll of which continues to spiral upwards, was met by unprompted offers of shelter, food, clothing and blankets.

The selfless heroism of the firefighters who entered charred and unstable buildings to search for survivors – in the course of which they saw terrible sights that are hard for any human eye to behold – has been inspirational.

But, I wonder, why does it seem to take a disaster to bring out the best in people?

And why does it seem to take a disaster to bring about a proper scrutiny of our man-made political and economic decision-making structures?

Terrible eruptions of the kind we are in danger of becoming used to can create fear and division: but they can also be revelatory.

They can shine a sudden spotlight on practices and assumptions that can destroy the soul as well as the body.

Were shortcuts taken with the building and maintenance of Grenfell Tower flats? Were the cutbacks which saw the reductions in numbers of police the result of questionable ideological assumptions that were not properly scrutinised?

What has certainly become clear in recent times is that our complacent political overlords have lost touch with the on-theground realities of much human life.

The ideological drive to deregulate everything that moves – or doesn’t move – is putting human lives at risk. Fact.

The ideological drive to drastically reduce welfare benefits is creating swathes of human misery in our land. Fact.

The ideological drive to reward the rich and the powerful – even for their failures – is widening the gulf between the rich and the poor to dangerous levels. Fact.

Yet politics can’t solve all problems. You see, what has also been highlighted in recent years is the steady erosion of a sense of community in this country. The cost of this attrition is huge; and by that I mean economic, as well as emotional, cost.

How come? Well, recent studies have shown that for human wellness to flourish, contact with other people is crucial.

One of the biggest problems up and down the country these days is the curse of loneliness.

Yes, even in Scotland, which tends to pride itself on its alleged friendliness.

The jury is not out on this: it has been in for some time and the verdict is damning. For example, for far too many older people, the only human face they see is on the telly.

This is Scotland’s shame, the sad secret that dare not speak its name.

And why is it economically costly? Because human loneliness contributes to the rise in mental health issues we are witnessing. The consequences of that are expensive.

So what’s all this got to do with Manchester and Grenfell Tower? Put it this way: the kindness to strangers that warms our hearts when we see it is an expression of human community, of human solidarity.

We know that this is how it is meant to be, at a very profound level. Caring for the vulnerable, caring for the lonely, caring for each other is a strong part of what it means to be human.

Ah, but we’re all too busy, aren’t we? Too busy to drop in on an elderly neighbour for a wee bit of chat? Really?

I’m not downgrading the role of politics here. Political choices are very important if we are to be serious about narrowing the rich-poor gap, and flourishing together in a society with justice at its heart – but politics on its own can’t do the human business.

So, I salute those who, by their spontaneous generosity towards those whose lives have been devastated by terrorism or by flames show us the way to be human.

But once the crisis is over will they, and we, go back to the seductive old ways and close our doors on the world and its troubles?

It doesn’t really need a disaster to bring out the best in us. The biggest disaster is not to care at all.

One of the biggest problems up and down the country these days is the curse of loneliness. Yes, even in Scotland, which tends to pride itself on its alleged friendliness.