This is beautifully written. I was also born in 1981 but in a different country (SouthAfrica) and when I moved to the UK about halfway through my life, couldn't really distinguish how life has changed because it just has, or because I was now in a new place, where things were just different. But I can fully relate to what you're saying here. And even though where I grew up is one of the most dangerous countries in terms of crime, personal assault etc., we were still allowed to play outside with our friends up and down the road, go out by ourselves etc. I shudder looking at today's children walking around with their friends whilst recording Tik Tok videos and not really being with their friends at all. Maybe as an adult generation we are not entirely innocent either. Like you I am hopeful that we will realise that no amount of consumerism will fulfil the need for human connection, that we need our communities as much as they need us and that things will change for the better.
"There is a great boon available to us which was not available in 1981 - namely, the ability to connect with like-minded people at the touch of a few buttons and the clicking of a few mice. One could add to this the ability to access knowledge and wisdom that was simply unknown to the average person born into humble circumstances in a previous era - and to tap into the entire canon of collective human accomplishment in the arts, literature, and so on, to boot."
Finding your post in my inbox in the morning is one of my consolations. Thank you.
I was an inky schoolboy going on teenager about 20 miles south* of you in the 1980s - I lived in Hawarden, just across the border in Wales. We often took the train to Liverpool where my parents had various friends and acquaintances including my god mother who lived up near Crosby. I recall the first time I took the train to/from her on my own with zero adult supervision. 2 changes of train at Bidston and Liverpool Central/Moorfields, plus a mile walk one end and half a mile at the other. Plenty of opportunities to get on the wrong train and end up at, say, New Brighton.... I was probably 10 at the time, so late 1970s in fact. As you say it would be inconceivable now for a child of 10 to be expected to do such a journey on his own and most of the reason for that is a bunch of jobsworths and Karens who would insist on calling the police if they spotted a child on their own. One reason I like living in Japan is that here this sort of thing is still standard.
Thinking about things lost, one thing that I think we've lost is the church as an anchor of the community. In Hawarden the parish church got a good 100+ people to the main Sunday service plus more at the 8 o'clock and the evening one. And many more than that at Christmas and Easter. If you didn't like that church there were a couple of different Methodist chapels, a catholic church and a few other denominations that you could attend and people did. Not that everyone attended (not even at Christmas) but enough did that it was understood and "normal". Moreover enough did that the parish priest was an actual community leader and the church was actually a center of the community (others being the pub(s) and the local footy teams from the working mens clubs, but there was plenty of overlap between attendance at all of these). Church was how your parents met Mr Jones at the newsagents and Mrs Williams at the other one and.... For all kinds of reasons people have stopped going to church, pubs are no longer filled with regulars and so on.
It seems to me we've lost that local community and community of communities thing. The internet certainly helped us lose it by making it easy for us to find people with shared interests half way around the world, but the fracturing had already started in the 1990s (probably even in the 1980s but I didn't notice being too busy growing up). I don't know how we get it back, but we need to.
*that it is South surprised me but google maps assures me that it is the case, I'd have thought South West
I'll be in Japan for a family visit in a few weeks' time and my eldest is going to have a day or two at a Japanese school. It's mind-blowing to her that Japanese kids walk by themselves to school at her age. At her school here in England it just isn't allowed.
They don't just walk to school, they cycle and take public transport as required. And take themselves from school to after school activities / friends houses etc. all on their own.
It's a big thing at the start of the school year (april) when the new first year elementary school kids do their first unaccompanied walks to school (the first day or two Mum or Dad generally escorts them, sometimes one Mum for two or three neighboring households). On the walk TO school there are usually older neighboring children to convoy them. On the way back not so many but generally someone older escorts them across big roads or other points of danger
Very true about the loss of community hubs, whether they be churches, pubs, village shops....places were people met 'accidentally' or by design, to inform, swap opinions, state strong views about politics and inept politicians, to offer help ( eg DIY job), offer consolation and so on. These were face to face contacts when we could see the range of facial expressions, read cues, body language.
We have lost the old hubs but there are different networks created, but not in the same places as they were. I think when we look back and ruminate at length on what existed, then sadness can fill our minds and hearts. Here we are in 2024, the world in turmoil (wars and mass migration) the 'wokesters' seemingly having their field day, natural disasters ( of course), but the human spirit is unquenchable ; it is resilient. It has to be as it adapts to progress . 'Hope' and 'resilience' and 'kindness'....these things exist the world over. They won't be extinguished by those who purport to govern and mismanage our lives.
I enjoyed reading the Article, being a native of the Wirral and oft visitor to New Brighton....it isn't the same as it was, has lost many of its charms. Progress is both a builder and 'destroyer'. That is often hard to swallow.
People do seem to recognise this loss, or at least the threat it might be lost in the near future - and are acting upon it. They are increasingly organizing voluntary care groups for small village inhabitants: connecting neighbours who need or may do to a each other a service. Also, for what it's worth: kids in my street do play together all day if weather allows. They're a great bunch and they do seem to play all the same games we played when we grew up, fifty odd years ago. No, time has not stood still here, but parents are increasingly aware of the negative aspects of computer games and smartphones and they do encourage their children to play and learn without them. People or also aware of the lack of social cohesion and are working to restore some of it. Don't despear just yet - social cohesion is a necessity and people will find a way to be together again!
I live in a pocket of bourgeois security on the outskirts of a rough town. Where I am things are roughly as you describe. It's the rest of the population I worry about!
I grew up in the 60s in the countryside around a Lancashire mill town, about 30 miles NW of Wallasey. I well remember days out at New Brighton, though Southport was probably more frequent for us. We would have thought ourselves 'middle class' (if we thought about such things), dad being a captain in the MN, mum was a 'single parent' 90% of the time. But I can easily remember childhood times without a TV, phone or central heating. We had an indoor loo, but the terraces a few yards down the road had theirs outside in the back yard, while my aunt - a few miles away in a more rural area, had an outside loo with no flush, just a big drum of disinfectant that was emptied every other week by the council (a job rather nastier than doing the bins).
By today's standards we would have been considered 'deprived', but overall it was pretty idyllic - I went to the local ("Direct Grant") grammar school (now a sad shadow of its former self), where I received an education the equal of anywhere in the country.
But the biggest and most obvious cultural difference was a homogenous population. Although I remember one family of Sri Lankan Anglo-Indians who settled in the village, the first black face I saw was as a teenager on board one of my dad's ships at Liverpool docks (he was on the West Africa run and some of the stewards hailed from there). But any tour of the north of England will reveal large towns that are now, if not majority then very substantial minority Muslim, mostly of Pakistani descent. The local mill town now has a Muslim mayor and an MP 'for Gaza'. Cultural cohesion is a distant memory that only the older inhabitants possess.
It's complicated. The society which I grew up in felt homogenous, but wouldn't have done to earlier generations - a great deal of the population (including both sides of my family) were Irish immigrants, who would have had very different mores to the locals. Integration is possible and cultural cohesion can happen - but not without a rediscovery of a self-confident mainstream.
My father's generation expected to wear (proper) hats in the street. My mother's generation generally wore skirts or dresses. And for all the good and bad parts, people 'knew their place'.
Now I regard 'truth' as an elasticated blanket - people can grab at one edge and know a part of the truth that is being pulled gently or fiercely by other people. My 'truth' which stands alongside the tenor of the essay is that people now 'know the cost of everything and the value of nothing'. We have become atoms living in a transactional society. A marriage for life and a job for life are now seen as quaint.
I find myself somewhat surprised to have to acknowledge that all the pundits (remember the Brains Trust on BBC?) were correct to flag the risks of Consumerism. When you could expect to be able to buy *anything* then resilience and self-discipline are not required. My takeaway point is that modest hardship builds character and society, living in 'a land of plenty' undermines character and society
The wheel now turns. People are beginning to see that it will be impossible to buy the full range of they want. Certain products are no longer available on the shelves after the alleged pandemic caused firms to go bust or not restart the manufacture of less profitable brands/products. Laws aimed at making the world a better place are seen as disproportionate and punishing. Old political parties are seen as failing. It would seem that modest hardship is on the way back - and that may be a good thing.
I don’t disagree. I hate how the word ‘community’ is nowadays used. The point about real communities is that they are centred around a locale, not a certain category of person.
It would be interesting to hear you unpack what is meant by “community” these days. I was recently commissioned by the Labour-run Council to create murals in a neglected neighbourhood in Liverpool, to address antisocial behaviour, improve the morale and wellbeing with the art, and to involve the “community” in the work. I succeeded in winning the hearts of all sorts of people who live there, but I prefer to use the phrase “local people” rather than the blanket term “community” because I recognise that these are all unique individuals with different backgrounds, races and faiths.
local shops disappeared, gobbled up by The Supermarket (a global phenomenon). many of us just knew it was not a sign of improvement and 'modernisation' ("development"), but it happened. ugly consumerism was everything and everywhere, and we weren't told or warned. however, bringing up two children in the '90ies made us realise just how fickle all of it really is and fortunately we found/there are still many ways of getting involved in one's social circle, the neighbourhood, the town. and before one can begin addressing this alienation there needs to be the vaguely sad, permeating feeling that 'something's missing'. great post, thank you!
I think you forgot the stale food, lack of choice and rubbish service that those local shops used to give us before our world class (yes, really!) supermarkets took over!
A very enjoyable essay. I also grew up in more or less the same neck of the woods and at around the same time. And I feel a deep sense of loss for the world of my childhood, which always comes back to me, like those photos, as a time of long summer days. You’re right, that’s not coming back, and I agree, it is some kind of way forward to be honest, as bleak as that may be. In my own way of thinking, I think things will have to get considerably stranger in a spiritual sense if we are to see renewal. I think our time we were picking off the last fruit on the tree. The sap is going to taste very bitter, for us at least.
To use a Merseyside football analogy, I often think of Roberto Martinez's time in charge at Everton. For a brief period, he was made to look like he knew what he was doing, because he had inherited a very solid framework from David Moyes and was able to add some flair on top to produce excellent results. But after that things rapidly unravelled. At the moment, like Martinez in his first season at Everton, we are sustaining ourselves by clinging to the framework which Christianity provided and adding some innovation of our own. But when that collapses there will be - literally and metaphorically - hell to pay.
Beautiful piece. You have a knack for eloquently getting at the essence of life in the West. Most know that something is off, but are unable to articulate what that is.
Great post . As someone born in the 70’s I totally empathise with all you say . I think the 70’s, 80’s and perhaps 90’s generations understand that we have lost something of great importance the last 30 years and we must play our part in attempting to regain what we once had . I go out of my way to shop in independent stores and support their businesses ; I pretty much always use cash . As a craftsman ( one of the benefits of the Internet is I can sell my wears ) I find that more and more people like to do a trade for goods , which is very satisfying and forms a bond with person I’m trading with ; for example I traded with a local Framer recently ; a belt for his framing a print . That print I’d In turn traded with the artist himself . Both people I’ve now become good friends with .
Things are happening , I think we just need to build on them and try to rekindle what we’ve lost .
Thanks! I go back and visit once or twice a year. Still a great place and in some ways better than it was, but still affected by the general, wider malaise.
By the way somewhere here you mentioned growing up in a Baptist church. Was that new Brighton Baptist? Your mum Pat? I was there in the 1980s before I went to university and eventually Edinburgh.
I suspect that some of your anomie is based on moving up in the world. All my memories of what you are talking about are attached to my maternal working-class grandparents. I suspect that your family, like mine and I suppose many others over the past two generations, have moved from factory work to graduate white collar society. I have noticed that the richer one gets, the more you pay to be more in your own space. First class in a plane is more spacious than coach, ditto the private gym and pool. Best of all you own your own (plane, gym, pool)! So, if all-in-it-together conviviality is the essence of happiness, why do the rich opt out of it the moment they have the means?
For the same reason that we eat too much sugar. To a very social species, a bit of alone time is precious. When we get the wherewithal, we go crazy on alone time to the point it becomes bad for us. Same reason we binge on refined carbs when we get the chance.
Hmm, not totally convinced. Upscale people do generally avoiding binging carbs. Even bingers do genuinely wish to give up sugar, but (as Warren Buffet has admitted) once you've got used to a private jet you really don't want to give it up. Bill Gates admitted the same in his book about how to achieve net-zero (he had lots of ideas on how to do it, but him giving up his jet was hors de question). I don't have personal experience, but all the evidence suggest billionaires really love those jets. I'd hesitate to push the argument that they are deluded.
I'm not sure that's a great illustraiton - getting on a plane is by definition not a community event for anyone, even us proles in economy class. Everybody is going to a different place and nobody on the plane will ever see each other again. Nothing is therefore lost by taking a private jet, and quite a lot is gained in terms of convenience! I bet lots of billionaires feel a sense of anomie and wish they were more rooted in a community, though.
Agree, not an example to get hung up on. Actual behaviour suggests we are all cautious about who we want to be social with, perhaps, as you say, to the point of disbenefit.
Great post. I'm a year older than you, grew up in a ordinary village in the Midlands (though my parents' milieu was slightly more middle class; they were the children of working class parents who went to grammar school and university). My seaside memories are of annual holidays with my grandparents in rather desolate and (even then) faded Lincolnshire towns; very happy memories but the "Everyday is Like Sunday" vibe also rings true. You eloquently express many of the feelings and ideas about the past and the present I have been mulling over for years. This subject calls out for a great novelist to capture the changes that have taken place over this period, the intellectual, emotional and spiritual landscape of the English people, as well as their material conditions. I can't call to mind an English novelist who has successfully achieved this (Jonathan Coe has produced more than one "state of the nation" novel, with his trademark gentle nostalgia and cosy Englishness, charting the post-war period to today, but as a liberal Guardian-reading type I feel he just doesn't understand the nature of the decline and its causes). I am usually disappointed by contemporary fiction. Off the top of my head, I think of David Szalay (especially "London and the South-East") and Gwendoline Riley as two novelists whose work, in different ways, captures something of how I feel about England today. Who have I missed?
I well remember playing out all day on my bike, calling for people to come and join large games of football on the rec, summer holidays spent going in and out of people's houses... that sense of kids living out on the streets and in parks really has gone now, based on my experience of having a young teenage son. It's not just the smart phones and Nintendos, but obviously that's part of it.
This is beautifully written. I was also born in 1981 but in a different country (SouthAfrica) and when I moved to the UK about halfway through my life, couldn't really distinguish how life has changed because it just has, or because I was now in a new place, where things were just different. But I can fully relate to what you're saying here. And even though where I grew up is one of the most dangerous countries in terms of crime, personal assault etc., we were still allowed to play outside with our friends up and down the road, go out by ourselves etc. I shudder looking at today's children walking around with their friends whilst recording Tik Tok videos and not really being with their friends at all. Maybe as an adult generation we are not entirely innocent either. Like you I am hopeful that we will realise that no amount of consumerism will fulfil the need for human connection, that we need our communities as much as they need us and that things will change for the better.
Thanks. Things will work themselves out, because they always do - in the end.
"There is a great boon available to us which was not available in 1981 - namely, the ability to connect with like-minded people at the touch of a few buttons and the clicking of a few mice. One could add to this the ability to access knowledge and wisdom that was simply unknown to the average person born into humble circumstances in a previous era - and to tap into the entire canon of collective human accomplishment in the arts, literature, and so on, to boot."
Finding your post in my inbox in the morning is one of my consolations. Thank you.
I was an inky schoolboy going on teenager about 20 miles south* of you in the 1980s - I lived in Hawarden, just across the border in Wales. We often took the train to Liverpool where my parents had various friends and acquaintances including my god mother who lived up near Crosby. I recall the first time I took the train to/from her on my own with zero adult supervision. 2 changes of train at Bidston and Liverpool Central/Moorfields, plus a mile walk one end and half a mile at the other. Plenty of opportunities to get on the wrong train and end up at, say, New Brighton.... I was probably 10 at the time, so late 1970s in fact. As you say it would be inconceivable now for a child of 10 to be expected to do such a journey on his own and most of the reason for that is a bunch of jobsworths and Karens who would insist on calling the police if they spotted a child on their own. One reason I like living in Japan is that here this sort of thing is still standard.
Thinking about things lost, one thing that I think we've lost is the church as an anchor of the community. In Hawarden the parish church got a good 100+ people to the main Sunday service plus more at the 8 o'clock and the evening one. And many more than that at Christmas and Easter. If you didn't like that church there were a couple of different Methodist chapels, a catholic church and a few other denominations that you could attend and people did. Not that everyone attended (not even at Christmas) but enough did that it was understood and "normal". Moreover enough did that the parish priest was an actual community leader and the church was actually a center of the community (others being the pub(s) and the local footy teams from the working mens clubs, but there was plenty of overlap between attendance at all of these). Church was how your parents met Mr Jones at the newsagents and Mrs Williams at the other one and.... For all kinds of reasons people have stopped going to church, pubs are no longer filled with regulars and so on.
It seems to me we've lost that local community and community of communities thing. The internet certainly helped us lose it by making it easy for us to find people with shared interests half way around the world, but the fracturing had already started in the 1990s (probably even in the 1980s but I didn't notice being too busy growing up). I don't know how we get it back, but we need to.
*that it is South surprised me but google maps assures me that it is the case, I'd have thought South West
I'll be in Japan for a family visit in a few weeks' time and my eldest is going to have a day or two at a Japanese school. It's mind-blowing to her that Japanese kids walk by themselves to school at her age. At her school here in England it just isn't allowed.
They don't just walk to school, they cycle and take public transport as required. And take themselves from school to after school activities / friends houses etc. all on their own.
It's a big thing at the start of the school year (april) when the new first year elementary school kids do their first unaccompanied walks to school (the first day or two Mum or Dad generally escorts them, sometimes one Mum for two or three neighboring households). On the walk TO school there are usually older neighboring children to convoy them. On the way back not so many but generally someone older escorts them across big roads or other points of danger
"I'll be in Japan for a family visit..." There it is right there, David. Our parents thought a trip to Paris was exotic.
Very true about the loss of community hubs, whether they be churches, pubs, village shops....places were people met 'accidentally' or by design, to inform, swap opinions, state strong views about politics and inept politicians, to offer help ( eg DIY job), offer consolation and so on. These were face to face contacts when we could see the range of facial expressions, read cues, body language.
We have lost the old hubs but there are different networks created, but not in the same places as they were. I think when we look back and ruminate at length on what existed, then sadness can fill our minds and hearts. Here we are in 2024, the world in turmoil (wars and mass migration) the 'wokesters' seemingly having their field day, natural disasters ( of course), but the human spirit is unquenchable ; it is resilient. It has to be as it adapts to progress . 'Hope' and 'resilience' and 'kindness'....these things exist the world over. They won't be extinguished by those who purport to govern and mismanage our lives.
I enjoyed reading the Article, being a native of the Wirral and oft visitor to New Brighton....it isn't the same as it was, has lost many of its charms. Progress is both a builder and 'destroyer'. That is often hard to swallow.
People do seem to recognise this loss, or at least the threat it might be lost in the near future - and are acting upon it. They are increasingly organizing voluntary care groups for small village inhabitants: connecting neighbours who need or may do to a each other a service. Also, for what it's worth: kids in my street do play together all day if weather allows. They're a great bunch and they do seem to play all the same games we played when we grew up, fifty odd years ago. No, time has not stood still here, but parents are increasingly aware of the negative aspects of computer games and smartphones and they do encourage their children to play and learn without them. People or also aware of the lack of social cohesion and are working to restore some of it. Don't despear just yet - social cohesion is a necessity and people will find a way to be together again!
I live in a pocket of bourgeois security on the outskirts of a rough town. Where I am things are roughly as you describe. It's the rest of the population I worry about!
I grew up in the 60s in the countryside around a Lancashire mill town, about 30 miles NW of Wallasey. I well remember days out at New Brighton, though Southport was probably more frequent for us. We would have thought ourselves 'middle class' (if we thought about such things), dad being a captain in the MN, mum was a 'single parent' 90% of the time. But I can easily remember childhood times without a TV, phone or central heating. We had an indoor loo, but the terraces a few yards down the road had theirs outside in the back yard, while my aunt - a few miles away in a more rural area, had an outside loo with no flush, just a big drum of disinfectant that was emptied every other week by the council (a job rather nastier than doing the bins).
By today's standards we would have been considered 'deprived', but overall it was pretty idyllic - I went to the local ("Direct Grant") grammar school (now a sad shadow of its former self), where I received an education the equal of anywhere in the country.
But the biggest and most obvious cultural difference was a homogenous population. Although I remember one family of Sri Lankan Anglo-Indians who settled in the village, the first black face I saw was as a teenager on board one of my dad's ships at Liverpool docks (he was on the West Africa run and some of the stewards hailed from there). But any tour of the north of England will reveal large towns that are now, if not majority then very substantial minority Muslim, mostly of Pakistani descent. The local mill town now has a Muslim mayor and an MP 'for Gaza'. Cultural cohesion is a distant memory that only the older inhabitants possess.
It's complicated. The society which I grew up in felt homogenous, but wouldn't have done to earlier generations - a great deal of the population (including both sides of my family) were Irish immigrants, who would have had very different mores to the locals. Integration is possible and cultural cohesion can happen - but not without a rediscovery of a self-confident mainstream.
A powerful essay.
My father's generation expected to wear (proper) hats in the street. My mother's generation generally wore skirts or dresses. And for all the good and bad parts, people 'knew their place'.
Now I regard 'truth' as an elasticated blanket - people can grab at one edge and know a part of the truth that is being pulled gently or fiercely by other people. My 'truth' which stands alongside the tenor of the essay is that people now 'know the cost of everything and the value of nothing'. We have become atoms living in a transactional society. A marriage for life and a job for life are now seen as quaint.
I find myself somewhat surprised to have to acknowledge that all the pundits (remember the Brains Trust on BBC?) were correct to flag the risks of Consumerism. When you could expect to be able to buy *anything* then resilience and self-discipline are not required. My takeaway point is that modest hardship builds character and society, living in 'a land of plenty' undermines character and society
The wheel now turns. People are beginning to see that it will be impossible to buy the full range of they want. Certain products are no longer available on the shelves after the alleged pandemic caused firms to go bust or not restart the manufacture of less profitable brands/products. Laws aimed at making the world a better place are seen as disproportionate and punishing. Old political parties are seen as failing. It would seem that modest hardship is on the way back - and that may be a good thing.
That's how I see it, more or less, but my worry is that the hardship won't be all that modest....
> To go to the local church, mosque or synagogue, to volunteer.
In my opinion, ‘communities’ are partly the problem.
Being close in distance but not sharing the same culture is always going to be sub-optimal.
I don’t disagree. I hate how the word ‘community’ is nowadays used. The point about real communities is that they are centred around a locale, not a certain category of person.
It would be interesting to hear you unpack what is meant by “community” these days. I was recently commissioned by the Labour-run Council to create murals in a neglected neighbourhood in Liverpool, to address antisocial behaviour, improve the morale and wellbeing with the art, and to involve the “community” in the work. I succeeded in winning the hearts of all sorts of people who live there, but I prefer to use the phrase “local people” rather than the blanket term “community” because I recognise that these are all unique individuals with different backgrounds, races and faiths.
local shops disappeared, gobbled up by The Supermarket (a global phenomenon). many of us just knew it was not a sign of improvement and 'modernisation' ("development"), but it happened. ugly consumerism was everything and everywhere, and we weren't told or warned. however, bringing up two children in the '90ies made us realise just how fickle all of it really is and fortunately we found/there are still many ways of getting involved in one's social circle, the neighbourhood, the town. and before one can begin addressing this alienation there needs to be the vaguely sad, permeating feeling that 'something's missing'. great post, thank you!
I think you forgot the stale food, lack of choice and rubbish service that those local shops used to give us before our world class (yes, really!) supermarkets took over!
I think what you’re saying is what I said in the post: we have nicer stuff. Nobody is disputing that!
Thanks!
Shocked to hear you were only born in 1981 - you sound older than me (born 1957!!!)
That reminds me of a line from Loudon Wainwright III. ‘I went to the doctor and the doctor said, Son, you look older than me - and I’m 71!’
A very enjoyable essay. I also grew up in more or less the same neck of the woods and at around the same time. And I feel a deep sense of loss for the world of my childhood, which always comes back to me, like those photos, as a time of long summer days. You’re right, that’s not coming back, and I agree, it is some kind of way forward to be honest, as bleak as that may be. In my own way of thinking, I think things will have to get considerably stranger in a spiritual sense if we are to see renewal. I think our time we were picking off the last fruit on the tree. The sap is going to taste very bitter, for us at least.
To use a Merseyside football analogy, I often think of Roberto Martinez's time in charge at Everton. For a brief period, he was made to look like he knew what he was doing, because he had inherited a very solid framework from David Moyes and was able to add some flair on top to produce excellent results. But after that things rapidly unravelled. At the moment, like Martinez in his first season at Everton, we are sustaining ourselves by clinging to the framework which Christianity provided and adding some innovation of our own. But when that collapses there will be - literally and metaphorically - hell to pay.
Beautiful piece. You have a knack for eloquently getting at the essence of life in the West. Most know that something is off, but are unable to articulate what that is.
Thanks for that!
Great post . As someone born in the 70’s I totally empathise with all you say . I think the 70’s, 80’s and perhaps 90’s generations understand that we have lost something of great importance the last 30 years and we must play our part in attempting to regain what we once had . I go out of my way to shop in independent stores and support their businesses ; I pretty much always use cash . As a craftsman ( one of the benefits of the Internet is I can sell my wears ) I find that more and more people like to do a trade for goods , which is very satisfying and forms a bond with person I’m trading with ; for example I traded with a local Framer recently ; a belt for his framing a print . That print I’d In turn traded with the artist himself . Both people I’ve now become good friends with .
Things are happening , I think we just need to build on them and try to rekindle what we’ve lost .
Yes, definitely. Nothing is linear in that sense - things will come around.
This is indeed beautifully written. It captures the Wallasey I grew up in and the strange mix it is now - better in ways, worse in many more.
Thanks! I go back and visit once or twice a year. Still a great place and in some ways better than it was, but still affected by the general, wider malaise.
By the way somewhere here you mentioned growing up in a Baptist church. Was that new Brighton Baptist? Your mum Pat? I was there in the 1980s before I went to university and eventually Edinburgh.
Wow. This hits hard. I was born in Wallasey and grey up in the 70s and 80s in this world.
David I’m a bit older than you but I recognise so much here.
I suspect that some of your anomie is based on moving up in the world. All my memories of what you are talking about are attached to my maternal working-class grandparents. I suspect that your family, like mine and I suppose many others over the past two generations, have moved from factory work to graduate white collar society. I have noticed that the richer one gets, the more you pay to be more in your own space. First class in a plane is more spacious than coach, ditto the private gym and pool. Best of all you own your own (plane, gym, pool)! So, if all-in-it-together conviviality is the essence of happiness, why do the rich opt out of it the moment they have the means?
For the same reason that we eat too much sugar. To a very social species, a bit of alone time is precious. When we get the wherewithal, we go crazy on alone time to the point it becomes bad for us. Same reason we binge on refined carbs when we get the chance.
Hmm, not totally convinced. Upscale people do generally avoiding binging carbs. Even bingers do genuinely wish to give up sugar, but (as Warren Buffet has admitted) once you've got used to a private jet you really don't want to give it up. Bill Gates admitted the same in his book about how to achieve net-zero (he had lots of ideas on how to do it, but him giving up his jet was hors de question). I don't have personal experience, but all the evidence suggest billionaires really love those jets. I'd hesitate to push the argument that they are deluded.
I'm not sure that's a great illustraiton - getting on a plane is by definition not a community event for anyone, even us proles in economy class. Everybody is going to a different place and nobody on the plane will ever see each other again. Nothing is therefore lost by taking a private jet, and quite a lot is gained in terms of convenience! I bet lots of billionaires feel a sense of anomie and wish they were more rooted in a community, though.
Agree, not an example to get hung up on. Actual behaviour suggests we are all cautious about who we want to be social with, perhaps, as you say, to the point of disbenefit.
Great post. I'm a year older than you, grew up in a ordinary village in the Midlands (though my parents' milieu was slightly more middle class; they were the children of working class parents who went to grammar school and university). My seaside memories are of annual holidays with my grandparents in rather desolate and (even then) faded Lincolnshire towns; very happy memories but the "Everyday is Like Sunday" vibe also rings true. You eloquently express many of the feelings and ideas about the past and the present I have been mulling over for years. This subject calls out for a great novelist to capture the changes that have taken place over this period, the intellectual, emotional and spiritual landscape of the English people, as well as their material conditions. I can't call to mind an English novelist who has successfully achieved this (Jonathan Coe has produced more than one "state of the nation" novel, with his trademark gentle nostalgia and cosy Englishness, charting the post-war period to today, but as a liberal Guardian-reading type I feel he just doesn't understand the nature of the decline and its causes). I am usually disappointed by contemporary fiction. Off the top of my head, I think of David Szalay (especially "London and the South-East") and Gwendoline Riley as two novelists whose work, in different ways, captures something of how I feel about England today. Who have I missed?
I well remember playing out all day on my bike, calling for people to come and join large games of football on the rec, summer holidays spent going in and out of people's houses... that sense of kids living out on the streets and in parks really has gone now, based on my experience of having a young teenage son. It's not just the smart phones and Nintendos, but obviously that's part of it.
I don’t read contemporary literature because all it does is annoy and alienate me - but I agree that there is a great novel waiting to he written…..