The train on which I was travelling was from a formerly prosperous and even rather grand industrial town whose centre had been comprehensively ruined, architecturally, by the construction of a strategically placed ring road, as so many English town centres have been so ruined; and ruined economically by failure to adapt to changing world circumstances. The smell of fast food hung over it like a pall: vinegar and stale fat that had launched a thousand chips.
A lot of men appeared to have nothing to do in the town, except prop up the walls of 1960s public buildings, including a College of Design so hideous that it reminded me of the psychological technique of paradoxical intention. In this technique, the therapist advises the patient to do exactly the opposite of the desired result, for example an insomniac is told to try to stay awake at all costs. Such is the perversity of Man that it often works; and so one must hope that those who study at the College of Design thereby sup full of the horrors of ugliness and produce only beauty.
No doubt the proppers-up of walls were deemed sick rather than unemployed: that is to say were in receipt of a sick note from their doctors though there was nothing whatever wrong with them. They were performing the invaluable work of keeping the unemployment rate low; and thus, by a single lie, is the population, the medical profession and the government corrupted.
In the midst of all this wretchedness was a series of advertisements, sponsored by the authorities, warning recipients of state aid that they risked prosecution and imprisonment if they worked on the side and earned a few quid extra.
Long familiarity with recipients of such aid has led me to rejoice whenever anyone cheats the system in the fashion warned against. These are the people who keep their dignity intact, despite the best efforts of the state to destroy it. The ones who don’t cheat are what the inhabitants of the camps used to call Muslims, the submissive ones, who turned their face to the wall and died.
When dignity requires illegality, there is something rotten in the state.
More articles from: Theodore Dalrymple | this section
Post this entry to: del.icio.us | Digg | Newsvine | NowPublic | Reddit
Advertisement
When the leaves fall is the fun time of year for artists
Classlessness means your five-year-old chanting ‘sheepshaggers’ on the terraces
A fortnightly column on technology and the web
If there really is a secret Zionist brotherhood running the world, why aren’t I a member?
Scratch the surface and there is always tragedy, mixed, of course, with wickedness.
Peter Phillips on the election of Professor Sir Curtis Price as the next Warden of New College, Oxford
Lloyd Evans on the great texting debate
Alexander Chancellor returns from New York
Peter Jones on why Boris would do well to emulate Pericles
Bavid Pryce-Jones on the new book from Carole Seymour-Jones
Build your own Sky package online. Sky TV, Broadband & Talk only £17.
Subscribe to Sky from £16 a month. Get free equipment and free broadband - Join Now. Sky HD - be amongst the first to have it - order now.
Build your own Sky package online. Sky TV, Broadband & Talk only £17.
Subscribe to Sky from £16 a month. Get free equipment and free broadband - Join Now. Sky HD - be...
PORTA METRONIA, ROME Standing high on the top of one of the seven hills of Rome- the Coelian- this unique
ROME and PARIS: over 350 holiday rentals apartments listed: visit www.romanreference.com and www.parisreference.com or call +39 0648 903612.
Goldsmiths by Design Welcome to Ruffs! You have found a company of Goldsmiths that specialises in the manufacture, amongst other
Spectator Business | Apollo Magazine
Corporate | Advertising | Privacy | Terms
Spectator, 22 Old Queen Street, London, SW1H 9HP
All Articles and Content Copyright ©2008 by The Spectator | All Rights Reserved