I imagine sociologists are having a field day observing how we are developing, or not! That is, is society worse now than twenty years ago, one hundred and twenty years ago, before the pandemic? Both individuals and groups are interacting with each other in different ways. Rather than drift inexorably towards one another, with more shared than oppositional views, for the greater good of mankind, it seems we are moving apart in some form of macro polarisation.
Two observations illustrate this at the micro level.
Just before Christmas Celina and I, after our morning yoga session, were waiting for the No 6 bus in Churchill Square to take us home. The square is a magnet for shoppers, with M&S on one side and the huge shopping centre, recently bought by Ikea, on the other. Given the time of year, the bus was pretty full when we got on, trying not to let our wet yoga mats get in the way, but there were a few spaces. Normally I leave the seats reserved for the elderly or those unable to stand and we found a couple behind such a row, which was already occupied.
Then an oldish bald chap got on, wearing a gilet and shorts, as you do in winter, presumably wanting to make a statement, looked around for a seat and said to the two people in front of us “These are reserved for the old ….. move!” Quite shocked by the tone of his voice, the two women got up and started to move to the back, one of them telling the chap she was pregnant. No recognition, no empathy, no: “Oh! I’m so sorry! Please! Stay there.” The whole situation highlighted the difficulties we have in recognising invisible disabilities or early-stage pregnancy.
The bus moved off, everyone settled, until Mr ‘Couldn’t Give a Monkey about Others’ noticed a chap staring at him, presumably wondering why someone could be so rude. Well, that started 5 minutes of “What the f**k are you looking at?” “You got a problem?” ……. and without getting any response repeated himself, glaring at those around him, confronting their non-responsiveness. Other passengers were shocked but these days there’s a reluctance to challenge rudeness for fear of exacerbating the situation. Fortunately, he got off at the next stop and the bus’s passengers, heaving an audible collective sigh of relief, started chatting to those next to them. (Note 1)
Everyone accepts that for well-referenced reasons we are in a ‘cost of living’ crisis. You could blame Putin for his invasion of another sovereign country and its effect on energy costs, a general increase in labour and raw material prices globally or countries wanting to implement better environmental policies which are often more costly, but its effect, particularly for those struggling at the bottom of the societal heap, is profound. And when your back is against the wall, desperate times call for desperate measures. Not able to afford the basics, you might go to your local Food Bank whose number here has seen an exponential rise, or you might be tempted in the supermarket to pop some bacon or a loaf of bread into your bag with the intention of not paying at the checkout. I read somewhere that some people, presumably not shop owners, think it’s acceptable and that’s extremely worrying.
An individual on their own does not constitute a society; you need at least one other, with whom you agree certain acceptable behaviours. If you can’t agree it’s back to the law of the jungle. Over generations we like to think the basics are right but introduce new laws to cope with changing values; we think we become more civilised in the process. But I also understand that within a country’s borders there may be many different societies who don’t sign up to the majority view. A recent documentary focused on petty criminals and their love of Rolex watches – other people’s that is. Asked whether they thought it morally wrong to steal, often in a violent manner, the response was: “I don’t do morals.” (Note 2)
The other day I was in George Street, in Bert’s, a store that provides the solution to the question: “God! I have to buy something for my best friend/brother/work colleague/sister/friend’s baby/an anniversary/to take to a supper party etc.” The range runs from cuddly toys, greeting cards and mugs, through every conceivable cooking gadget known to women and men to plates, bowls and paper napkins looking like £20 notes. Lots of items, none of which cost a fortune, which could convey whatever message they need to: “Congratulations/thank you/you need this/love you/the mug caption made me smile and think of you etc.”
Clutching a couple of cards in one hand, I made my way around the central shelving unit to see whether anything else caught my eye, before arriving back near the cash desk, staffed by Bridget, just in time to hear someone kick off.
“Wot! You fink like I didn’t pay for this? How dare you!” shouted a woman wrapped fashionably in a parka with fake fur lining.
“Like you fink my money’s not as good as like these other customers ….
“Madam! I am sorry! I must have made a mistake (Ed: You could tell from her eyes she was thinking: ‘No! I haven’t’). I am sorry if I’ve offended you.”
“Trouble with you lot, with your toffee-nosed attitude, like you looks at me and fink I might put something in my pocket like without paying. Shame on you ….. and your grovelling attempts at an apology? F**k you!”
…… and, turning to the rest of us who, rather saddened at this display of ‘you said/she said/you said’ and feeling particularly sorry for the cashier, were looking on without making eye contact, shouted:
“And you lot! You’re like so judgemental! You go f**k yourselves too!” Off she strode, out into pedestrianised George Street, shouting to those who would listen ‘Don’t shop in Berts! Don’t want my money! Fuckers!’
Maybe she was a relative of Mr ‘Couldn’t Give a Monkey About Others’?
Richard 8th March 2024
Hove
http://www.postcardscribbles.co.uk
Note 1 Of course I have no idea why this chap behaved the way he did; the imagination runs riot. Maybe it was as simple as getting out of bed the wrong side?
Note 2 It could be an examination question: “I don’t do morals. Discuss.”
postcards 