Very interesting press release from the American Science Association:
One of the ways the left wins is by constantly breaking the law with its protest actions and getting away with it. This is related to the ‘double standards’ issue I’ve talked about before, where the left gets away with things the right can’t get away with, because it controls so many important institutions, as well as most of the media.
The left thinks that you’re allowed to do anything, as long as your actions are a sincere form of political protest (assuming, of course, that you’re on the left). This attitude has been encouraged for decades by movies, TV, books, newspapers, academics, and so on. And mostly the left does get away with this. What’s more, it gets treated with kid gloves when law enforcement is finally forced to act.
This is one of the symptoms of the weakness of modern Conservativism. Governments that are supposedly conservative have been able to do little about illegal protesters, mainly because they’ve feared an Establishment backlash if they insist that that the law be enforced against leftist protesters. One of the things we desperately need from future Conservative governments is that they fight vested interests to make sure that leftists are properly prosecuted for their illegal behaviour.
Consider, for example, the situation in Democrat-controlled states like California, where black-shirt Antifa thugs get away with all sorts of fascist behaviour. Consider the environmental protesters all over the world who are allowed to halt work indefinitely by putting their bodies in harm’s way. In Britain and the US you’ll see protesters blocking traffic and the police act as their protectors rather than their arresters. Not to mention the millions of illegal immigrants in the West who will never be deported.
That’s why I was pleased to see this story:
Sweden is to prosecute the 21-year-old student who single-handedly grounded an aircraft preparing to deport an Afghan asylum seeker.
Elin Ersson broadcast her one-woman protest on Facebook in July, during which she refused to sit down on the flight from Landvetter airport in Gothenburg, thereby preventing it from taking off …
On Friday, Swedish prosecutors announced that Ersson would be prosecuted at Gothenburg district court “for crimes against the aviation law” after the incident on 23 July. She had not complied with the captain’s request and had refused to sit despite repeated requests from the crew, prosecutors said. She faces a fine and up to six months in jail.
She should really have been pulled off the plane and arrested by the police straight away. But at least the Swedes are prosecuting her.
Before you start feeling sorry for her, bear in mind that there would be no mercy for any right-winger who pulled a similar stunt. Look at the way the British Establishment have treated Tommy Robinson. Far from the right being the cold-hearted hard men about such things, it’s the left who are ruthless (as they always have been). If you’re not one of them then don’t ever expect them to treat you the way they treat their own.
And if she is allowed to get away with this, then such tactics will just ramp up.
As for my claim that leftist protesters don’t consider themselves criminals, see this quote:
“Elin’s bravery has inspired a lot of people,” said Gudrun Romeborn of the group Sittstrejken (Sitdown Strike), in which Ersson is active.
“But it is important to understand why so many people in the community are working for justice for asylum seekers in Sweden. They are not criminals. We are trying to stop deportations to save lives.
This is partly right. Technically she will be (if convicted) a criminal, but in the right parts of Swedish society she’ll never be regarded as one.
Notice also the complete absence of any sort of apology for blocking the deportation of a man who turned out to be a criminal.
But now for the bad news. Do you really think she’ll go to jail for six months? Three months? No, not me either.
I’m currently reading Robert Service’s bio of Stalin. It’s good so far, but it has one annoying aspect to it that almost every other history book or biography shares, and that is that it just doesn’t remind you enough of what the year in question is.
What I mean is that there will be plenty of lines like ‘”In March this issue became urgent, and X started to do Y as a result”. But what year is it? It’s never that clear what the year is. Is it 1931 or 1932, or have we jumped ahead to 1933 here? You go back over the pages you’ve recently read, but there’s no mention of a year for ages. Eventually you find one by going back further, and then you have to do some deducing to work out what the year is on your current page. It’s like the writer knows what year it is, they’re keeping track of it in their head, so they assume you know too, but you don’t, you’re not as expert on all this as the writer.
With some topics this may not matter so much but with political history it does. And you want to get the timeline right in your head, so you want to know whether it was 1923 that X happened, or 1924, not least so you can fit this in with related developments which you knew happened in 1923 and 1924.
It’s like cricket commentating on the radio. It’s really important that cricket commentators keep telling the listeners the score. That’s one of their most important jobs. But so many of them fail to. You turn on the radio to hear the score, and you have to listen to them waffling on about all sorts of rubbish, and eventually you might hear them say that Jenkins has turned one off his hip for a single, as though they’re slightly annoyed that Jenkins has interrupted their story, like a parent who barely stops the story they’re telling to their friends when they tell their child to stop doing something. If you’re very lucky they might tell you that Jenkins has moved on to 32 after the tuck, but you won’t get the team score. Eventually after ten minutes, if you’re lucky, they’ll deign to mention it.
This always drives me nuts. The only British radio commentator who regularly gives the score is Jonathan Agnew (although in all other respects he’s an extremely annoying commentator). History writers should not be making the same sort of mistake. Never just say ‘July’. It should always be July and the year, unless the year has already been given on that page.
There are also some other strange aspects to what otherwise seems a very good book. Stalin has to give up this job he has at the Tiflis (ie. Tbilisi) observatory and leave where he’s living because the authorities are persecuting the Marxists. The next few years he throws himself into being a dedicated revolutionary. But there’s nothing at all about how he gets any money to live on. And nothing at all about where he lives when he moves to different towns. He also escapes a prison, but there’s nothing at all about how this happened. Many people — colleagues, editors — read drafts of the book. Did none of them not think to raise these points? Were they already so familiar with the facts about Stalin’s life that they didn’t notice that Service hadn’t addressed some of them?
There also seem to be many episodes of Stalin’s life that are missing that I know from other sources. I don’t know whether Service thought the evidence for these was lacking, or whether he just couldn’t fit everything in.
The founder of a network established “to support individuals who have discovered their family relationships aren’t what they were led to believe” apparently lives in the 1950s:
Yet St Clair hopes that this will diminish the culture of shame that many of our forebears had to live with. “It was a different era 50 to 70 years ago, and no one imagined that these secrets could ever be revealed so easily. But with the advent of this new and easily accessible technology, I’m hopeful that the stigma of ‘illegitimacy’ will eventually disappear.” (my underlining)
Yes, perhaps by 2050, or maybe 2060, British people will no longer hide their head in shame at being born out of wedlock. It’s hard to imagine now, but maybe one day British women will actually have babies out of wedlock deliberately in order to get state benefits. That seems inconceivable now, but who knows how our descendants will see things? Pre-marital sex, a science-fiction concept to most of us now, may even start to become commonplace in the world of our great-grandchildren.
I have a new article up at the Conservative Woman, entitled “The Telegraph Wimmin’s section – a fact-free zone”. It’s a shortened version of some of the blog posts I have recently been writing about the Women’s section at The Telegraph, namely these ones:
Lots of Remainers upset about this:
Police have said they will not investigate allegations of Russian state interference in the 2016 EU referendum or complaints about the involvement of foreign-based companies.
But why should they? Even if these Russian bots really exist, they had no influence on the referendum.
And how is it that a tiny number of unread Russian Twitter accounts that supposedly supported Leave is a terrible scandal, but the massive Guardian website with its hard-left radical columnists telling its American readers that Trump is a terrible man is journalism at its best?
The Telegraph has more:
An army of Russian trolls sent thousands of messages with the hashtag #ReasonsToLeaveEU on the day of Britain’s referendum on membership of the EU, according to new data released by Twitter.
No wonder everyone changed their mind that very day.
On 23 June 2016, the day of the Brexit vote, Russia mobilised an army of trolls, which at one stage included 3,800 accounts.
A massive army… of 3800. I can barely begin to comprehend the enormity of it.
The fake accounts Tweeted out 1,102 posts with the hashtag #ReasonsToLeaveEU.
1102 unread posts. Remain didn’t stand a chance.
The Russian-linked accounts Tweeted out the phrase “Brexit” more than 4,400 times during its period of activity, although mostly after the referendum had taken place.
Why is anyone even bothering to report this?
Iran also made an effort to influence British politics, launching attacks on former UKIP leader Nigel Farage and former Foreign Secretary Boris Johnson, while mostly praising Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn. Twitter revealed posts from 770 Iranian accounts that had engaged in attempts at disinformation.
“At last, a leading #UK Politician willing to stand up to the apartheid state of Israel and its murdering racist leader,” said one account of Mr Corbyn. “This isn’t anti semitism, it’s anti #Apartheid.”
How is this any different from every UK leftist Twitter account? Should we shut them down too?
While some accounts Tweeted in broken English, others were surprisingly sophisticated. One Iranian account even Tweeted a rhyming Limerick criticising UKIP leader Mr Farage.
Apparently foreigners aren’t allowed to have opinions about UK politics. Only UK people are allowed to have political opinions about other countries.
If you want to study the worst sort of disinformation then the Guardian’s your place.
It is popularly held as a period when Britain and the rest of the world fell into a deep decline.
But according to the British Library, the Dark Ages were anything but.
The curator of a new exhibition has suggested the term unfairly maligns a time of great creativity and enlightened thinking.
This is largely true. You might quibble with the ‘enlightened thinking’ claim to some degree, but in general the depiction of the Middle Ages as the ‘Dark Ages’ is simplistic nonsense.
Dr Claire Breay said that objects in the “once-in-a-generation” exhibition, which opens on Friday, show that Britain was sophisticated and pioneering …
“We are trying to show the public and encourage them to engage with the literary and artistic evidence of the [Anglo-Saxon peoples’] complex and sophisticated lives.”
At the time, she said, Britain lead the world in areas such as poetry, shown by texts like Beowulf, medicine, and organisation of land and taxes, which is shown by the Domesday Book.
Hmmm. Let’s just say that the suggestion that the Domesday Book was an Anglo-Saxon achievement (or any sort of achievement at all) is not going to be agreed by everyone.
So the left is currently having a fit over Saudi Arabia. And fair enough, too. It’s a thoroughly nasty and violent regime. But the left’s behaviour in these situations never makes any sense.
They’ll fixate on a ‘bad’ country for a while. Of course, they ignore a lot of really bad countries most of the time because they like to ignore countries that don’t offer them an opportunity to bash Trump, or Bush, or Thatcher, or Reagan, or whoever the current conservative bogeyman is. And they definitely like to sweep under the carpet the bad behaviour of any leftist country.
But sometimes they embrace the chance to condemn a country, as they often did with Iraq under Saddam. Why do we support such a regime, they scream and shout. Countries like that shouldn’t be allowed.
But then when the US, or some wider international coalition, proposes to do something about the bad country, something that will actually be effective, and go beyond ineffective sanctions and grandstanding speeches, the left turns around and starts shouting the opposite. We need to leave other countries alone. The US needs to stop being the world’s policeman. That country’s affairs are its own business, and it’s like being Hitler to intefere.*
So I’m sorry, but I’m not taking the left’s latest fits about the Saudi regime seriously. Besides, there is no Western-style democracy, or any sort of democracy, waiting in the wings in Saudi Arabia. What would replace the current Saudi regime would most likely be even worse.
*Of course there are perfectly respectable isolationist positions. But none of them are held by the left, who would transform every country in the world with a pen if they could.
Update: I should make clear that I’m not saying we should let the Saudis get away with torturing and murdering dissidents. I’m saying that the left have nothing of value to tell us on these sorts of issues (or any others, for that matter).
Update 2: Good article by John Nolte at Breitbart on Khashoggi:
Outside of Breitbart News, have you heard a single squeak of outrage from a CNN or NBC or Washington Post over the 30-plus Mexican journalists murdered since 2016?
Of course you haven’t!
Because outrage over that particular horror show only works against the media’s left-wing cause of portraying Mexico as an idyllic nation sending us their best and brightest.
When George Osborne lost his job because of Theresa May and he started saying he wanted to chop her up and keep the parts in bags in a freezer, we all thought he was a bad loser. But maybe he knew her well enough to know that this was the best solution. Keep the body parts separated and frozen until medical science can work out how to kill her for good.
Sajid Javid is often said to be the frontrunner to be the next leader of the Conservative Party. This is the latest headline about him:
Ageism could be classed as a hate crime, Sajid Javid poised to announce
With the Brexit deceit and this sort of rubbish the Conservative Party is disintegrating before our eyes. So is the country. It’s like the teachers all went out to investigate a loud noise, and they left the spods in charge.
The teachers haven’t come back, and they never will, because they’ve all been killed by Muslim terrorists, and the spods remain in charge. The rest of the class is still sort of doing what the spods say because they’re expecting the teachers back any moment, but some of the class is starting to get very restless. But the teachers are never coming back, and we need to dump the spods and start getting things back to normal.
It’s dark outside the staff club, and there’s no sign of any bearded old philosophers running around going berserk. Ren takes a guess at which way Tyson went, and runs. Ten minutes later, after he’s covered a lot of territory but seen no sign of the crazy old bastard, he hears some screams and commotion coming from the direction of the student bar. He hesitates. This won’t be good. Maybe he should just leave Tyson to his fate. He’s probably already been trussed up by security. Except that the Uni bar doesn’t have security guards, and the general campus security is good for nothing but discovering broken-into buildings six hours after they’ve been broken into. In the end, it’s curiosity more than anything else that drives him to investigate. What kind of story to tell will it be if just ends in ‘And then I went home to watch TV’?
Outside the bar he finds outraged students milling about. He can see some guys scouting around the area, searching.
‘What’s going on?’ he asks a random group of students. There’s something in the corner of his visual field that is disturbing him, but he doesn’t want to look just now.
‘A flasher,’ says one of the students. ‘That’s what we heard.’
‘An old flasher with a stiffy,’ says another. ‘Must be a Professor.’
‘I didn’t know Professors of that age could get stiffies,’ says a third student.
‘Jase told me he heard the guy had no trousers on,’ says the first student, over the others.
Ren knows what the thing in the corner of his eye is without having to look at it now, but he briefly glances anyway. A pair of trousers lie discarded near a bush. Did Tyson take them off there, or did someone, discovering them somewhere else, drop them there?
The students are bursting to fill him in further.
‘He was wanking while watching those ladies there, and they saw him, and then he ran away.’ The student points. Ren groans inwardly. The two women are Millicent Bartonella and Lenora Helminth, who are directing the search parties, looking grimly satisfied.
Everyone is too excited and flustered and giddy to look properly, so they don’t see what Ren now sees, which is Tyson sneaking back behind a nearby bush. The dark night means that visibility is poor, but Ren definitely gets a brief glimpse of nothing but white flesh and black hair below Tyson’s belt line as he moves into position.
Ren is now faced with a moral dilemma as daunting as anything to be found in a moral philosophy class. Forget abstract intellectual exercises where you are forced to choose between diverting a runaway trolley to kill one person rather than the five it’s heading for. Forget the issue of whether you should dynamite the pregnant woman. This is an urgent, real-life moral dilemma, with real consequences. Should he shout, ‘There he is, burn the witch,’ and watch as the pack goes for Tyson? Or should he shut up, and let Tyson enjoy his few last moments of freedom twanging the wire before he’s locked up for good? And maybe slink off home? Or go inside the bar for a quick beer while the crowd at the bar has thinned, as most of the customers have come outside for a look?
It’s not really much of an ethical dilemma, though. Clearly Tyson needs to be apprehended for his own, and everybody else’s, sake. Ren sidles away from the students and walks causally over to Tyson’s bush, trying not to draw too much attention to himself. As he gets closer he can see Tyson’s face peeking through the bush, looking at the students. Some slight rustling at groin level gives him an idea of what Tyson is up to, which puts him off going any closer.
‘Tyson,’ he says quietly.
Tyson either doesn’t hear him, or ignores him.
‘Professor Kipnis,’ he says, a little more loudly. Tyson still doesn’t respond to him.
‘Is that the Dalkeith medallist Professor Tyson Kipnis, who has run departments, chaired prestigious committees, edited the best journals in the world, testified to the White House, and advised three US Presidents?’
Ren thought that was sure to work, but Tyson’s gaze remains fixed on the females present, a group that includes Millicent and Lenora, which you’d think would give anyone an instant soft-on, but then Tyson has gone doolally.
‘Is that the Randolph keyhole wanker?’ Ren says a little bit louder still.
That gets Tyson’s attention. And everybody else’s – they all swivel around to look around at Ren. Lenora, faster than the rest at seeing what is going on, strides towards the bush. But quick as a flash, Tyson has grabbed something off the ground. A pre-prepared weapon. He comes around the side of the bush to screams and gasps from the crowd, not only because he is naked and erect below the waist, which isn’t a good look for a man his age, and not only because his face is twisted grotesquely, but because he is waving something white around his head. As something brown flies out of it Ren realises that the white thing is Tyson’s underpants.
Only his years of playing cricket save Ren – he instinctively sways his head backwards as the loose packet of sludge hurtles towards him like a thunderbolt from a vastly earlier, and more primal, cricketing era. He gets his face underneath the trajectory of the semi-solid tracer bullet just in time, courtesy of all the years he has spent evading bouncers in the nets. His cricket career never went anywhere, but he is now immensely grateful for those wasted hours spent after school when he and his friends would bounce balls of string-covered cork at each others’ heads at tremendous pace.
Like any good batsmen Ren keeps his eye on the ball, or streak, as it passes by a centimetre or two above his nose, which enables him to get a good, if upside-down, view of it hitting Lenora smack in the chest as she rushes towards Tyson. He also notices some other small smidgeons of poo spraying around the area at the same time, some perhaps coming off the main body in flight, some perhaps coming from the generous smear on the underpants, but none of them hit him. He will later swear that he saw a small fleck hit Lenora on the cheek microseconds before the main motherload struck her. The central poo, as is all too evident, was not the firmest stool, which has made the resulting splat on Lenora’s white blouse – and neck – all the more ruinous.
As a hit on an immediate enemy, from Tyson’s point of view, it’s an effective blow. The hunting party’s leader has been stopped in her tracks, and is standing there, huge breaths gasping in and out, her arms pulled up away from her body, wrestler-style, far away from the damage, her day of fighting over and done with. And the others are too stunned to move.
In terms of Tyson’s wider strategy, though, it wasn’t perhaps the wisest move. But Tyson is now in a primeval mood, wanking, shitting, mis-perceiving, over-reacting, running and fighting like a gorilla… would never dream of doing. He looks more like an escapee from the opening scenes of 2001, and his scraggly beard hits just the right note.
Ren decides that his swaying back motion can be continued for another fraction of a second, just enough to cause him to topple over onto the ground on his back. That allows others to rush past him to do the dirty work – possibly very dirty work – of tackling Tyson. He sees Tyson’s hairy white bum disappear into the distance as he runs off at a surprising pace, a once-canny fox gone senile, pursued by a baying crowd of drunken student hounds, hungry for his blood.
‘Tally ho,’ murmurs Ren. Tyson is going to be ripped to shreds.
A couple of weeks ago I expressed some doubt about Thomas Wictor’s claim that the Republicans knew what they were doing when they asked the FBI to do further investigations on Brett Kavanaugh. I’m still not entirely convinced by his argument, but I have to give him credit, he was right that it did turn out well for the Republicans.
It’s a terrible shame that he’s been banned from Twitter, and his blog no longer seems to work, but he is on Gab:
He has something interesting to say, and always tries to back up what he says with argument. Gab’s not the greatest place for detailed discussion, but at least he’s still going strong somewhere.
Journalists, that is, Are there any real ones left? Almost everyone who draws a salary as a journalist these days is, despite what it says on their contract, a columnist. An opinion-monger, like me. Or, to put it more bluntly, a propagandist. A political operative. Or else, if they’re lower down the food chain, they’re a reproducer of press releases. Or a Twitter-trawler.
This wouldn’t be quite so bad if you had columnists who knew something about how the world really works. Or even how a field or two works. But very few of them know anything about anything. Owen Jones isn’t passing on his hard-earned wisdom through ink or pixels, because he has none. He doesn’t even have any easily-won wisdom.
I’m not saying that journalists ever used to be that knowledgable, but at least they used to do some investigating. Mind you, they also used to make stuff up back in the old days, so I’m not going to get too nostalgic.
The situation we have now is that most columnists are dead boring (with a few exceptions, eg. Rod Liddle). Actually, they usually were, for the most part. But when blogging started we all thought the newspapers would soon become filled with these wonderfully entertaining and knowledgable writers from the internet. But most of these bloggers never made it onto a bigger stage. Glenn Reynolds did in the US. And Brendan O’Neill (though arguably never really a blogger) is one who did in the UK, but as good as he is, he just writes the same column over and over. I still like bloggers like Tim Newman, but no newspaper is going to pick him up. So the blogger takeover never happened.
And then the blogs started dying, and most of the good old bloggers gave up (as I did for years) or turned to Twitter, which in effect meant that they gave up column-length writing. And things aren’t going to change, because few young people now dream of getting into journalism to investigate anything. They dream of getting into ‘journalism’ so they can denounce their political enemies. I can’t complain too much about that seeing as I’m an opinionated blogger, but at least I took the trouble to learn a few things first before I first decided (in the early 2000s, under a different name) to start mouthing off
Anyway, I think we can all agree that if you work for the Telegraph’s Women’s section, you’re not a journalist.
Update: Almost on cue, this Tim Blair blog post appears where he reveals that the Sydney Morning Herald’s Paul McGeough — who you may remember making a dick of himself in the old Iraq War days — has been asked to do “more reporting and less columnising”. That hasn’t gone down well with MgGeough, and the result is that he is in discussions with the SMH over a voluntary redundancy package.
I’ve decided to revive my Gab page, which has been lying dormant for many months. It’s here:
And my Twitter page is still going strong:
There are three problems with Gab, though. The first is that the layout and typography don’t work as well as Twitter. I was kind of hoping they’d have improved it by now, especially as they’ve been boasting about all the money they’ve been getting recently, but they haven’t. But maybe I’ll eventually get more used to it.
The second problem is this. The attraction of Twitter is not just being able to easily post stuff (which is no great attraction for me as I know how to make and run my own website), but all the interaction with a wide variety of interesting people that can happen. There’s much less of that on Gab, because there’s nowhere near as many people, and because most of the best people are still on Twitter.
The third issue is that with Twitter you have the potential to tap into a large mainstream readership if you start to get known (although that’s still a long way off for me). That doesn’t really exist on Gab. Maybe it will one day, but it doesn’t for now.
But on the other hand I feel that Gab deserves support for providing a real free-speech platform, which is why I’ve gone back to it.
So one of the more sensible women at the Telegraph, Allison Pearson, says, quite rightly, that female rage is getting out of control, and it won’t end well. So far, all agreed. But then she says:
Dr Christine Blasey Ford, who made allegations of sexual misconduct against Kavanaugh dating back to high school, gave moving and plausible testimony to the Senate Judiciary Committee at great risk to her reputation and safety.
In what way was it ‘plausible’? Her story fell apart. None of her witnesses have a clue what she’s talking about. Do you mean it was plausible because she put on a good performance? Is that your measure of plausibility? Nothing to do with evidence then?
And as far as her reputation goes, she’s now going to be a star on the left, in the same way that Anita Hill is still regarded as a brave, courageous heroine.
Nor was it a good look to have the allegation made public just as the Republican-supporting judge was about to change the balance of America’s highest court. Her action could too easily be mistaken for political convenience, rather than civic duty.
Easily mistaken, yes, easily mistaken, in the way that Arabs who run towards the Houses of Parliament waving what looks like a gun and shouting ‘Alluh Akbar’ are easily mistaken for real terrorists.
But Pearson was just getting warmed up:
The opposing side was even worse.
Yes, she really said that.
Kavanaugh himself gave an unpleasant, pink-faced performance, alternately petulant and angry.
It doesn’t seem to occur to Pearson that he may be innocent. How would she behave if she was accused on worldwide TV of being a rapist? Cry? Scream? Admit she was guilty when she wasn’t?
If he was a woman, they’d have called him hysterical.
No, if he was a woman they’d have called him brave and feisty, and he’d be on the cover of magazines all the time with puffball pieces written about him, which is what happens, for example, with Rose McGowan, despite her berserk rages.
And now for the most ridiculous paragraph in the whole ridiculous piece:
Most sinister of all was the calendar he had kept from his teenage years.
I swear I’m not making this up. Look at the link if you don’t believe me.
Who on earth knows exactly what they were doing on a Friday in 1982, and for what reason might they have kept that evidence?
Allison Pearson apparently thinks that a teenage, 80s Brett Kavanaugh thought that to cover up a sexual assault he’d keep his calendar for that year for decades in case it ever came up in, say 2037. Because then he’d be able to sway a jury by producing a calendar which doesn’t list the dates he raped people.
Personally, I have all sorts of stuff from my teenage years that I’ve kept. I’ve had to throw some of it out over the years as space has become an issue, a scenario which is less likely to be a problem for a well-paid lawyer living in America. I’ve never been a diary or calendar person, but I’ve kept some of the silliest things. It wasn’t because I was covering up for a string of bank robberies I committed. It was because of the fondness I have for those days.
Nor did I much like the anxious, sidelong glances Kavanaugh’s wife gave him
If I’m ever arrested for a crime I didn’t commit I really hope that Allison Pearson is not on the jury.
Still, any moderately sensible person would see there were holes in both arguments. Except moderate and sensible are no longer on offer.
Pearson is under the mistaken impression that she’s moderate and sensible, rather than gullible and neglectful of the principles that underlie civilization.
Mind you, compared to the unhinged harpies that work in the Women’s section of the Telegraph, she is completely moderate.
Historically, witch-hunts were evidence of moral panic. Man-hunts are just as ugly. Women are better than that.
Why do feminists, or columnists in their feminist mode, always talk in such generalities, making claims that are not even remotely true even if we replace the ‘all’ with ‘most? They do it with men: ‘All men are rapists’, for example. This is no different. Women aren’t a block group in this respect.
I’m not saying we can’t make some true generalisations about women. But this is not one of them. When it comes to tyranny, women aren’t any different to men. Some men are drawn to power so that can abuse it, some aren’t. Same with women. Some men join in witch-hunts, some don’t. Same with women.
So yes, some women are ‘better than that’, but there’s no reason to believe that the claim applies to all, or even most, women. A lot of women not only are not better than that, but they’re at front of the pack, handing out pitchforks, and egging everyone on.
If Allison Pearson wants a good look at that sort of woman, she only has to look at some of her colleagues in the Telegraph Women’s section. As I’m sure she has. I expect this article was her little dig at them. So I’ll end on a positive note — at least she’s having a go, however feeble, at her pitchfork-wielding colleagues:
What we have instead is boiling female rage, which justifies thinking that any man who stands accused is guilty, because, you know, they got away with it for so long so, hey, string him up!