Twenty Sixteen may come to be seen by historians as a time when the ordinary folk of the Western World changed the direction of the tidal flow of life. Whenever a tide changes some folk get worried and others get excited, however older readers have seen it all before. The last great tidal change started in the sixties and took place against a background in which generally poor but hopeful young people were expected to abide by the established rules of private and public behaviour.
This was a time of censorship and a period when we had to learn when to speak and when to remain silent. The penalties for rule breaking were more decisive than today, and the law was enforced by a police force rather than the police service of today. However, then as now, the law did not lack in mercy however it was more focused on the victim than the perpetrator.
The new tide meant that the Western World developed what are called ‘liberal’ values and, as a consequence, previously clear cut social, ethical and moral issues became blurred. As time progressed changes in transportation and communication set the stage for the globalisation of trade, and technology instantly transmitted pictures and ideas around the planet. As physical work was replaced by machines, more people found work in the service sector and, although censorship continued, this time it was based on values of political correctness.
Historians tell us that there are always times when people have had enough of their current elites, and this time it seems to be Anglo-Saxon voters who are leading the way. Although their decisions are derided by the existing liberal elite as ‘Populist’, the Dutch professor Cas Mudde of the University of Georgia writes that, “Populism is (only) an illiberal democratic response to decades of undemocratic liberal policies.
Those who lived through the social tidal wave of the sixties are now seeing another tide and, if today’s leaders want to prevent this tide becoming a tsunami, they will trim their sails. Should they fail to do so, it is likely that much of the good of the past fifty years will be swept away along with the bad. Hopefully, it looks as if most British politicians have sensed the sea-change and are preparing to ditch the worst and keep the best, but it is uncertain as to which tide the current leaders of the EU and the US will try to ride.
Talking of tides however, reminded me of a friend who was master of an oil tanker. He still has an ocean going sailing yacht and we have often mused of how, when we were young, life was likened to sailing out of harbour with a general idea of the direction you wanted to travel but, at the same time, knowing that the winds of life might force you to set another course or even the destination.
Politicians seem not to have learned this lesson and this failure was illustrated when I saw a previous Prime Minister confidently expounding our expected growth and expenditure figures for the period 2009 to 2050.
At that very moment I realised that he, and many economists, had somehow come to believe that their calculations about the future had become a sacrosanct plan and so they acted as though assumptions could not be challenged. It was as if they had lost touch with the ‘real’ world of the voters, and had instead become a priesthood for an economic idea that would meet the needs of another world. This being a world which exists only on spreadsheets and in their minds. (I wonder if most political careers end up in another world.)
However, a reminder of the dangers of being too confident about the future came from a gentleman I recently met in The Feathers; Originally from Brockhampton, where his father had been head-gardener at the court, he now lives near Abergavenny. He told me that in 1823 one of his family (a good swimmer) had diddled a cousin out of an inheritance and then turned his ill-gotten gains into gold. A week later, having stitched the gold into a body belt, he announced plans to sail for Canada. It was thus with mixed feelings that the entire family gathered in Bristol docks to wave goodbye. However on mounting the gang-plank he slipped and fell between the quay and the ship. Instantly the weight of his belt plunged him from view.
Consternation at his disappearance swept the family group until the aggrieved relative announced, “Listen everybody; don’t panic, give him ten minutes and if he’s not up by then, I’ll go down and take the weight off.
View from the Pew 