The Labour Party Wants To Criminalise Stupidity

Hot off the press, we have the Labour Party’s next proposal to make Britain a happier, fairer, more green and pleasant land. Operating under the twin delusions that fastidiously tweaking laws will affect the behaviour of people who hold the law in zero regard in the first place and that there is no bad thing in the world that cannot be quickly put right through national legislation, Labour have decided that their path back to power lies in demonising adults who smoke in cars when minors are present, and vowing to include a pledge to Save The Children in their general election 2015 manifesto unless the coalition government takes action first.

Really, officer? I had no idea!
Really, officer? I had no idea!

The Guardian reports:

The shadow health secretary, Andy Burnham, said Britain should follow the example set by Australia, Canada and a number of American states.

He told Sky News, “When it comes to improving the health of children, we are duty bound to consider any measure that might make a difference.

“Adults are free to make their own choices but that often does not apply to children and that’s why society has an obligation to protect them from preventable harm.

“Evidence from other countries shows that stopping smoking in the confined space of a car carrying children can prevent damage to their health and has strong public support.”

I have no doubt that there may often be strong public support for not smoking in cars carrying children as Andy Burnham says, but he cleverly does not say whether or not there is equally strong support for actually legislating on the matter. Besides, if you are going to ban something it is generally best to have the means of monitoring compliance and enforcing the ban, significant details which are not mentioned in the amendment. Will a new branch of the British Transport Police be established to watch out for the tell-tale glow of a lit cigarette end in the presence of a child? And is the threat of a £60 penalty really going to change public behaviour?

If someone is so foolish as to smoke their child like a side of bacon in the car on the morning school run, the sad reality is that the unfortunate child is likely to come a cropper at the hands of their inept parents one way or another regardless of any heroic feats enacted on their behalf by a future Labour government. The dangers of second hand smoke have acquired such apocryphal universality that they are known by people who outwardly seem to know very little about anything – people who know nothing about nutrition, for example, can crack a “this counts as one of my five-a-day” joke when helping themselves to a strawberry jam doughnut or (in my case) a roll of Rowntree’s Fruit Gums.

People who subject their children to second hand smoke in the claustrophobic confines of a car know exactly what they are doing, and if they aren’t actively encouraging their children to poke metal objects into the electrical outlets at home then they almost certainly come close to that level of dereliction of parental duty in other areas as well.

Andy Burnham and Luciana Berger are clearly intent on proving themselves the “true guardians” of child safety, unlike the callous, horrible old Tory government. But there is only so much that members of Parliament, the police and the judiciary can do in their taxing role as parents-of-last-resort to a nation that is happy to keep breeding but less sure of how best to deal with the results and that awkward business of raising children.

Some acts are so evil, heinous or injurious to the public good that criminalising them is right and proper, and one of the correct functions of the legislature is to make sure that criminal law keeps up with these activities. And some other things are just plain stupid, and common sense tells any person in their right mind that to do those things would be ridiculous. Hermetically sealing your child in a vehicle and exposing them to tar and nicotine is just such a thing. The social disapprobation and public shunning of people who make their children passively smoke in cars is more of a deterrent than a £60 fine.

But while I have dwelled on the detail, Andrew Brown, writing in The Telegraph, gives the bigger picture reason why banning smoking in cars is not as noble or clever as its proponents make out:

There is a vital principle at stake: do we really want to live in a country where the state interferes to this degree in the minutiae of people’s daily lives and in private spaces like cars? The claim about protecting children is really just a Trojan horse to disarm opposition, as passive smoking was. Once people were persuaded that there was a risk of “passive smoking” (even though the risk is minimal or non-existent) then it was far easier to justify the smoking ban. If a law banning smoking in cars were to be passed, and the principle of “protecting third parties” conceded, where would it end? There would be no logical reason why the government couldn’t prohibit smoking in people’s houses where children are present. The public may tell pollsters that they support this kind of law, because it might sound plausible, but politicians have a responsibility to hold back the creeping tentacles of the meddling nanny state, not think up new ways to persecute private citizens.

Precisely. And if we really do need a Labour government to tell us that it might not be wise to give our children lung cancer and threaten us with slap-on-the-wrist penalties for doing so, then they have already achieved the kind of docile, unthinking, collectively dim and dependent society for which they sometimes – as they have done again today – so clearly and loudly agitate.

Music For The Day

The first movement from “Chichester Psalms” by Leonard Bernstein:

 

Performed here by the LA Philharmonic Orchestra under the baton of Gerard Schwarz, at the Walt Disney Concert Hall, Los Angeles.

הָרִיעוּ לַיהוָה, כָּל־הָאָרֶץ.

עִבְדוּ אֶת־יְהוָה בְּשִׂמְחָה;

בֹּאוּ לְפָנָיו, בִּרְנָנָה.

דְּעוּ– כִּי יְהוָה, הוּא אֱלֹהִים:

Hari’u l’Adonai kol ha’arets.

Iv’du et Adonai b’simḥa

Bo’u l’fanav bir’nanah.

Du ki Adonai Hu Elohim.

Make a joyful noise unto the Lord all ye lands.

Serve the Lord with gladness.

Come before His presence with singing.

Know that the Lord, He is God.

 

More on the Chichester Psalms here.

Music For The Day

“Le Tombeau de Couperin”, in the original arrangement for piano, performed by Angela Hewitt:

 

As always with Ravel, the clarity of the individual melodic lines and the ripe potential for orchestration is readily apparent. Though it may be that I am reverse-engineering a composition to justify my analysis, I do believe that there is something special in Ravel’s piano music that seems to contain the pure distilled essence of melody and musicality – that kernel of imagination that almost cries out for sketching out with the full tonal palate of the full orchestra.

But sometimes it is nice to enjoy the purity of the original, and Angela Hewitt does not disappoint in this CBC Music recording. There are some moments of real melting tenderness in this performance – indeed, the six movements of the suite were each individually dedicated to friends or relatives of Ravel who had died fighting in the First World War.

On Addiction

The subject of addiction gets a markedly varied treatment throughout the yearly cycle. For the first few weeks of Christmas, it is written about quite seriously. Lots of people, newspaper columnists included, are at that time emerging from the festive alcohol-induced haze wondering whether the various embarrassing or compromising predicaments in which they found themselves might be symptomatic of a larger underlying problem. The topic then gets quite a fair and sensible hearing for a few weeks, vying for equal coverage with other stories like new years resolutions, dieting, and finding love in 2014.

In a particularly good year, you might get a few slightly more scholarly articles at this time, focusing on the science, medicine and psychology behind addiction; pieces that weigh the comparative benefits and efficacy of different treatment models for addiction, or written testimonials about someone’s personal struggle.

And then, after a few weeks have passed you get the nonsense articles, the pieces ostensibly about addiction but really an exercise in self-aggrandisement, treading rhetorical water, hitting word count targets and powering through a slow news day. Lucy Mangan, writing in The Guardian, gives us one of this variety. She gave up sugar for the new year, and you’re going to hear all about it:

If you’d asked me 24 days ago if I was addicted to anything, I would have laughed in your slightly-overfamiliarly-inquiring face. I don’t smoke, I barely drink. I have one coffee a day. My entire drug consumption comprises five puffs of whatever the kids are calling marijuana these days – the last three were consecutive, after which I went cross-eyed, puked up everything I’d eaten since 1984 and fell asleep for two days. So, no, I would have said, I am a slave to nothing and to nobody, bar my toddler and my mortgage provider. Bring on the dancing girls – I have this life thing licked. That, of course, was before I decided, on 1 January, to give up sugar.

Cue revelations of a first world problem of the highest, most profound order. Waxing lyrical about her love for chocolate, Mangan writes:

When my tongue is coated in that ambrosial mixture of sugar, milk powder and vegetable fat, when the glucose hits my bloodstream, when my stomach is filling with caramel, peanut pieces, shortbread, wafer or any of the multitudinous other vehicles the ceaseless ingenuity of man has created to deliver yet more deliciously the very emptiest of calories to my Stakhanovite digestive system – that’s when I relax.

Multitudinous? Stakhanovite? Really? Lady, you just like to have yourself large quantities of chocolate every day. Dress it up with all the pretentious phraseology you like, but it basically boils down to just that. It’s quite hard to spin the simple fact of liking chocolate into a full-length column about anything at all, let alone a serious topic like addiction, not to mention rather insulting to those who suffer from more serious and potentially devastating ‘real’ addictions.

There should be a public health warning on the label.
There should be a public health warning on the label.

Mangan casually mentions these “other” addictions, which she knows all about through the educational vessel of anecdotes:

It’s been both ridiculous and terrifying to see how closely my (not even complete, remember) sugar deprivation has mimicked what we will, for reasons of limited time and space, just have to agree to call here “real” addiction – to booze, fags, drugs et al. I’m craving the stuff all the time. I can literally feel – or feel I feel – a hollow inside me that only Cadbury can fill. I can’t concentrate. I’m foul-tempered. Oh, and I totally lied before about how much I usually eat. I can’t bring myself to tell you now, but it’s much, much more than one measly bar an evening.

Yes, of course when deprived of something that the body is used to – be it sugar and caffeine or alcohol and narcotics – some of these symptoms will be experienced. The only real difference between her need for chocolate and the need of an addict for their mind-altering substance are those small details hardly worth mentioning (and indeed not mentioned) such as broken homes, physical and mental abuse, poverty and debt, criminal records, social stigmatisation, and the inexorable toll of wasted year upon wasted year of human life.

For Mangan to say that the pangs of irritability and withdrawal she has been experiencing in any way “mirror” addictions of a more serious nature is akin to her claiming empathy with the homeless because she was once caught out in a rain shower without an umbrella.

The most urgent issue of our times.
The most urgent issue of our times.

But the main thing as far as The Guardian is concerned, I am sure, is that the required column inches were filled and the word count met. Lucy Mangan’s editor was pleased with a forgettable, cookie-cutter puff piece about someone finding it hard to cut down on the old baked goods after the excesses of Christmas, and gave blessing for its publication. And so now we can all have a little giggle about how Mangan’s sweet tooth makes her just like your funny neighbourhood junkie.

In future, however, it might be better if idle newspaper columnists facing the January blues, a slow news day and writers block tried to steer clear of their love of chocolate, or biscuits, or chocolatey biscuits, when grasping for ideas thirty minutes before the filing deadline.

I, for one, would be grateful.