steepholm

It's been almost two months since my last post. In some ways that's not so very long - but still long enough for the USA to turn from a functioning democracy into a Fascist-adjacent authoritarian state.

These lines have been going through my head on repeat since January:

Though justice against fate complain,
And plead the ancient rights in vain;
But those do hold or break
As men are strong or weak.

Marvell knew what he was talking about. Checks and balances can be toppled if there's no one to provide a counterweight. If a judge countermands an executive order in middle of the forest, but no one acts as if they heard it, did it really happen?

I do feel that this will be a temporary phenomenon, because Trump, Musk and Co. will fall on the sword of their own hubris and incompetence, and because forces of resistance will inevitably grow, if far too slowly. At the current rate of change, though, I think that those counselling "hanging on till the midterms" sound awfully naive. What midterms? We can't hold midterms in a National Emergency! (There is no National Emergency, you may object - but then, there is no war with Venezuala, and Trump still successfully invoked the Alien Enemies Act.) Laws, customs and institutions don't exist except in so far as people agree to act as if they do; to behave as if they had real force in their own right is magical thinking. Or, in the language of J.L. Austin, it's to ignore the contexts that give statements their performative power, or rob them of it.

A well known example is the sentence, "The constitution is suspended", the performative power of which is very different depending on whether it appears in a government proclamation or merely as the title of a blog post. For the moment it's the latter. In another two months, who knows?

Walking home from Temple Meads today, I saw that Easton has given its own verdict on the proclamation.



Of course, I can't approve this, as it's been several generations since a king of England employed a Groom of the Stool.

A week or so ago, on Transgender Day of Visibility, the Government celebrated by specifically excluding trans people from their long-promised ban on conversion therapy in the UK. This caused outrage, of course, and there was a heartening degree of unanimity from LGBT groups, but so far no sign that the Government will keep its word.

A couple of days later, the EHRC published guidance on interpreting the 2010 Equality Act. This was always a flawed piece of legislation, which spent much of the space it devoted to trans people detailing ways that - uniquely among the groups it set out to protect - it was actually okay to discriminate against us after all. But it did at least recognise that you shouldn't be able to discriminate on a whim, and that finding trans people a bit icky isn't enough of an excuse. The bar it set was that trans people should be excluded only when this was a "proportionate means of achieving a legitimate aim" - giving as an example the right of a rape crisis centre to turn away rape victims should they happen to be trans.

I thought, and think, that the exception sucked, but in practice it hasn't ever been used, because there isn't really a legitimate aim for which discriminating against trans people would be a proportionate means. Rape crisis centres, to use the Government's own example, haven't in practice shown themselves willing to sacrifice rape victims on the altar of transphobia.

This situation wasn't satisfactory for the phobes, however, and having effectively taken over the EHRC in the last couple of years they saw to it that the advice on the Act recently offered by that organisation set the bar at a subterranean level, saying that (for example) organisations are free to actively look for a service user to object to sharing a toilet with a trans person on the grounds of, say, 'privacy' or 'dignity', and thenceforth to exclude trans people tout court. The advice doesn't have the force of law, and indeed is almost certainly illegal, but until it's challenged in court - which seems to require an actual instance of this kind of ban happening - it will be circulated by the press and others as if it were the legal position, adding that extra element of fear and loathing to any toilet break.

(Oh, and of course, it's not just trans women who will be 'challenged' at the toilet door. Any butch lesbian or generally gender non-conforming woman will be too. The ironically self-declared "gender-critical" crew has willed it so.)

Then, a couple of days ago, along comes Boris Johnson and declares that trans women should not participate in sport. Now, part of me struggles to be interested in this because I can't understand why anyone would participate, but I do think it's significant that Johnson has said it. It's not, of course, because he cares about or is interested in women's sport, any more than Trump cared about the health of the avian population living near windmills. It's pretty clear that the Tories have decided that trans people are the perfect wedge issue for the next election and the two years leading up to it. It's something on which Labour is split, something that doesn't affect most people directly and about which they have only limited knowledge, something that can be reduced to "common sense" slogans and gotcha questions. From their point of view, it's ideal. So, Johnson's remark was a straw in the wind. And the wind is already blowing.

On the whole, I think I prefer trans invisibility.

Well, I've finally made landfall. Yesterday my final class was taught, and (since I will be on research leave in the autumn semester) I will not have to teach another until 2022. Of course, there's a lot of marking between where I am now (still sloshing about on the foreshore with saltwater in my sea boots) and the chalky uplands where I can actually do research, and I will of course continue to edit Children's Literature in Education and supervise sundry PhD students throughout; but still, a deep sense of peace has descended. Time to settle down and watch season 2 of the karmic Thai school drama, Girl From Nowhere, I think. (I asked on FB in vain, and I ask again here: does anyone other than me watch this show? As I've mentioned before, it's really not like anything else I've seen. I'd love to hear someone else's opinion.)

Meanwhile, I made my first ever visit to the Star and Garter, once the domain of Dutty Ken, St Paul's legend, and still with a tempting line in curried goat. This was actually my first pint of draught beer in over a year.



I got my second jab earlier in the week, with none of the unpleasant effects of the first, beyond a certain tiredness. Now I just have to hope that Japan gets its vaccine act together quickly enough for me to be able to take up the visiting scholarship at Tokyo Joshidai in September. I'd say the chances are 50:50 or rather less at present.

In politics, Keir Starmer's "Like the Tories But Less So" slogan doesn't seem to have been quite as inspiring as he hoped - and I gather he wants to change it to "Even More Like the Tories But Less So." Good luck with that.

Drive-by post achievement unlocked. Now, back to marking dissertations.

The moss-covered trees are now flourishing in my bedroom!



Is it just a bit tacky? Possibly. Do I care? Not really. I've not slept there yet, but will be trying it out tomorrow.

Meanwhile, I've been reflecting guiltily on the fact that when I see this sign:



my distaste at seeing Colston's legacy celebrated (at least for now)* is mitigated by my involuntary satisfaction at seeing not one but two apostrophes correctly placed - such a rare treat these days! Whereas, when I saw this on Colston's plinth the other day:



my approval of the sentiment was almost overwhelmed by an urge to correct the spelling. I suppose this is what's meant by trahison des clercs.

* Colston's Girls' School was one of three in Bristol named after Colston. The first, my children's old primary, changed its name a year or two back; the second, a private school, is retaining it. CGS voted recently to become Montpelier High School, Montpelier (one 'l') being the area of Bristol it's in. The logo will be designed by Michelle Curtis, who also designed the Seven Saints of St Pauls - an excellent choice.

Today I go to pick up the goose that was to have fed me, Haruka, my brother and his partner on Christmas day. Of course, that's no longer going to happen. Theoretically it might be possible to travel from Brighton to Bristol and back in a day, in accordance with Johnson's latest panicked edict, but it hardly sounds fun, especially as everyone else will also be on the road. So, goose till March, then (although it now seems that Ayako will be free to join us, and may be good for a leg). My plan to give Haruka a very traditional English Christmas has gone a bit haywire, unless 1348 counts as "traditional."

At least my tree looks nice! I bought it from "Refutrees," a pop-up shop run by Aid Box Community, a local charity that specialises in aid work and wordplay. Coincidentally, the other day I was hailed on the street by a Syrian refugee who was looking for the charity, and walked with him to their base, where they were happy to see him, though he looked a bit nonplussed on arrival to find that the charity he'd been seeking was (to the untrained eye) just a room full of Nordic spruces.

Two nights ago, in my festive fury, I took Haruka to Westonbirt Arboretum's Enchanted Christmas Trail, where the trees were lit up prettily, some animated, with occasional sylvan holograms, music, lasers, and so on. It would have been very charming, had it not been raining steadily throughout. I felt especially sorry for the woodland elves who had been hired to interact with the questers for the 'West Pole' (us) and perform little skits. That they were all carrying umbrellas was entirely understandable, but did take a little from the magic, especially since they were made of plastic and not (as one might have hoped) giant rhubarb leaves. Still, life's been hard on Equity members this year, and at least it was a gig.

I've lost count of how many streets claim to be Britain's steepest, but Vale St in Bristol is one of them - and that's the setting of Banksy's latest masterwork (photo courtesy of Ayako, who lives nearby).



Coincidentally, Colston St, so named in the nineteenth-century by aficianados of Bristol's formerly bestatued slaver, is to revert to its mediaeval name: Steep Street. It will be hard to make the usual "erasing history" objection stick when it's actually an act of restoration. As citizen, as scholar and as smartarse, I approve.

(Yes, Bristol is hilly.)

One of the regular topics of conversation with my Japanese friends over the last few months has been the relative scarcity of COVID-19 in Japan, compared to the West in general and the UK in particular. I've had similar conversations with Haawa in Uganda, where the death rate is precisely zero. Of course this could all change, and there have been recent spikes in Tokyo in particular, but so far they seem tame by UK standards. I thought it might be interesting to list some of the factors that have been suggested, lest I forget in the future.

A culture of mask wearing. Japanese people (like many in east Asia) have long worn masks at the drop of a hat, so were early adopters in the case of COVID.

A culture of not touching. Bowing is much more the thing than handshakes and hugs, so less chance for transmission.

An early and strong emphasis on the importance of good ventilation and good hygiene. Seems very plausible to me, though perhaps not a sufficient explanation. The necessity of not living in crowded conditions would probably fall under this heading.

Body shape. Japanese people tend to be thin, and problems such as high blood pressure (a risk factor for COVID) are less prevalent.

Diet. Could it be something in the food that gives resistance to some but not others?

Genetic differences. Could there be some form of genetic resistance shared by east Asians and Africans but not Europeans? I discussed this with Haawa, but it seems unlikely, given that black people in Britain seem to be more vulnerable to the disease, not less.

Climactic differences. Given the diversity of the regions in which the virus has spread, and also of those in which it has not, this early contender has recently lost favour.

The Japanese have a higher "mindo". This suggestion, which I include for the sake of completeness, was recently thrown out by a Japanese politician, Taro Aso, who has a habit of saying embarrassingly semi-racist things. Mindo (民度) essentially means "class of person."

I think I've probably left a few out, so may add to this list as other things occur to me.

Meanwhile, here's another big mystery: why is the UK's death rate so large? According to official statistics, in this country about 15% of people who test positive for COVID go on to die of it. This is far higher than, say, the USA, which has the most cases and the most deaths but where the death rate figure is more like 3 or 4% (something Trump was boasting about the other day, although of course there are many countries with better rates than that).

Possible reasons:

a) the UK is just really really bad at keeping COVID patients alive. This seems unlikely, when the medical care here is on a par with that of most Western nations.

b) the UK is home to a particularly deadly strain of the virus. Odd that no one has mentioned it, if so.

c) far more people are catching the virus than appear in the figures, and the real death rate is thus artificially depressed. This seems plausible at first glance. Testing in the UK is now at a very respectable level, but it may be that the lack of it in the early days of the pandemic is still skewing the total figures. However, even if you just take deaths vs. new cases for the last seven reported days, you still get a death rate of over 11%.

If you have other suggestions, I'd be very interested to know them.

"History is ghastly. Nothing but misery and war and brutality. One should be glad it’s over."

Thus Clare Paling, the protagonist of Penelope Lively's Judgement Day. She is being sarcastic, and Lively ironic - for both are historians, and know better.

But I thought of that line when I heard some of the protestations against the removal of Colston's statue on the grounds that it was "erasing history." First, since we're in ironic mode, there's the rich irony that most of the bewailers had never heard of Edward Colston four days ago, despite his statue having stood in brazen pomp for 125 years; but in the few days since there has been no statue they have learned all about him. It's as if human beings invest such objects with meaning by their actions and passions - as if the removal of statuary can be more educational than statues themselves! Who knew?

The second irony is that erasing history, at least in this way, turns out to be synonymous with making it - for Sunday's events are now indelibly part of Bristol's history, to the extent that Banksy has suggested erecting a statue of the protestors pulling Colston's statue down.

History isn't a done deal. That's the lesson people are learning, along with the statistics of enslaved, the drowned, the murdered. If you don't like the history you've got, you can always make some more.

The government seems to be doing everything it can to encourage a second wave of Covid-19.

The Dominic Cummings story has stripped ministers of any remaining rags of moral authority. As the police have found over the last week, the attitude now seems to be that, if the lockdown rules don't apply to the people responsible for drafting them, why should they apply to anyone else?

On the day lockdown was introduced, 23rd March, there were 967 new cases and 74 new deaths. Yesterday there were 2,095 new cases and 324 new deaths. The scientific advisers say that this is too high a rate to start to ease the lockdown. Nevertheless, despite claiming throughout the crisis that it is following the science, the government has decided to do just that.

Just before a weekend predicted to have glorious weather, the government announced that the lockdown would begin to be eased the following Monday. Inevitably, people are jumping the gun.

All this might be manageable, if there were a working test-and-trace system in place. There isn't.

Meanwhile, having decided three months too late to introduce quarantine for visitors from abroad (although not people coming from Ireland, fruit pickers, and others whom it would be inconvenient to keep out), the government's quarantine controls have proved to be an unenforceable shambles.

Apart from that, everything's going fine.