From The Dustbin of History

Daft robber? More like borderline moronic, I’d have thought…

An 18-year-old burglar who vandalised a children’s campsite building was caught because he wrote his name on a wall at the scene, a court has heard.

Guest-blogging at the Wardman Wire, ThunderDragon writes an interesting series of why he blogs at his age - saying that he is ‘only’ 22. As another similarly fresh-faced - and who started blogging much earlier than that - I was intrigued by his arguments.

Age and life experience are important in forming a political opinion. For example, it’s amazing how many kids supposedly support the Lib Dems. But most of them soon grow out of that. It is through living that one can develop real and intelligent opinions. I stand by my point that whilst the views of 18 year olds should not be ignored, that they should not be taken into account quite as much as those of an older person.

To me, focusing on the age or otherwise of a person seems to me to be totally redundant. I’m in America at the moment, and going round a number of the historical sites, it’s quite evident that I have a considerably greater knowledge of American history than most people. I was able to point out that Jefferson and Adams did not sign the Constitution, as they were serving as US envoys to France and Britain, respectively, in 1787. Yet those two names were the first suggested when the group I was in was asked to name signers of the Constitution. Similarly, when at the National Archives, the family in front of me (who were very thoughtful about their history, based on the comments they made on the displays) couldn’t understand why there were only 12 states with signatures on the Constitution - I was able to point out that Rhode Island had refused to send any delegates.

Then again, I should know this stuff - after all, it’s what I’m out here researching.

Now, the obvious criticism of this is that it relies on a knowledge of facts, rather than depth of thinking. In those two examples, it would certainly be a fair criticism. Anyone could remember those facts, but it isn’t necessarily indicative of critical thinking skills. Yet extrapolating from those stories, I’d have a fair bet that I could contribute more usefully to a discussion on the ‘original intent’ of the Founding Fathers than anyone else in the room.

That’s because there are two things that are important in formulating an opinion - knowledge, and an ability to think critically based on that knowledge. I’d hope that I possess plenty of the latter ability, too, but it doesn’t matter how well I am able to think if I know the square root of sod all on a subject.

The key question when evaluating someone’s argument has absolutely nothing to do with their age. It has to do about the logic of their argument, and the experience they bring to bear (the two don’t necessarily go hand-in-hand). I imagine ThunderDragon would be better able to explain the pitfalls of recent changes to the education system in Britain than a Department of Education mandarin, simply because he has intelligence, and considerably better direct experience of the operation of the system itself.

If I was looking to inform myself for an argument on cricket, I might turn to Richie Benaud for his opinion long before I turned to David Lloyd. But this has nothing to do with Richie’s more advanced years. It’s because after so many years of listening to cricket, I know that Benaud thinks before he speaks, whereas Lloyd offers inane comments based on what’s on the screen in front of him.

Turning back to politics, there are many things that people of my age or ThunderDragon’s age will be able to debate more usefully than older people. A greater appreciation for the norms of youth culture, perhaps. Or the effect of the difficulties that are faced by first-time house buyers. Because these are issues that we deal with on the coal-face, as it were. Now, that doesn’t mean we don’t have inherent biases or specific axes to grind. Any intelligent reader would make an effort to fillet these out in consideration. But age isn’t really one of them.

The ability for young people to speak in the public arena is derived not just from the fact that we exist. The ability to think critically, and the different experience that we bring to the table is vitally important. David Cameron’s opinions aren’t ill-thought out because he’s considerably younger than Gordon Brown. Nor are mine less thought out than David Cameron’s because of a similar age gap. Arguments should stand or fall based on their content and their logic. All other factors are just irrelevant flotsam.

Greetings, and welcome to the 117th edition of the BritBlog roundup.

How many of you were up till 1am to watch John Higgins win the Snooker World Champion? Fewer of you than there would have been if Pandemian’s ideas for livening up the game were adopted…

Second up has to be the article at Lib Dem Voice questioning whether Ming should go. It’s refreshing to see such an honest approach to debate from a website that sees itself as at the heart of party debate.

There’s been an interesting spat going on in some corners of our mysterious world over the decision of a Peterborough ’superschool’ not to have a playground. Dsquared is a good place to start off, with a well-researched support of the policy; Crooked Timber responds.

Not Saussure launches into a delightful attack on Hazel Blears’ campaign for Deputy Leader of the Labour Party.

Jonathan Fryer opines on Lord Browne, and offers the useful advice… don’t lie!

This week’s big news is obviously Tony Blair confirming for the umpteenth time that he will resign, only this time giving a definite date to boot. Bloggers up and down the country have lived up to their reputations as wannabe columnists by wasting virtual rainforests pontificating on what Blair’s legacy will be.

The Magistrate castigates the Sun for its portrayal of Broadmoor, and throws in a sideswipe at Blair’s pandering while he’s at it.

Liberal England describes a process of coming to grudging respect for Blair, or the “reverse of Britain”, as it’s also known.

Chicken Yoghurt finds himself in the unfamiliar position of agreeing with Michael Howard. Alastair Campbell has a funny way of uniting people…

G Fawkes at Dodgeblogium thinks it is time to say good riddance to management graduates.

Central News gives his take on how the NHS should be governed.

Disgruntled Radical has a joke at the expense of Ian Paisley. The old ones are the best, after all!

The Overgrown Path brings our attention to Reginald Goodall, the holy fool.

The Big Blue Meanie, meanwhile, suggests that the reports of the death of bees may be somewhat exaggerated. As long as you are only talking about organic bees, of course.

Save the Ribble shows off his way of enjoying a politically-active and socially-conscious May Day at the glamorous Preston Flagmarket.

Susanne Lamido wonders whether Simon Jenkins is right in suggesting the Lib Dems call it a day (and do follow the link at the bottom of the post, too).

In a similar vein, The Daily Maybe wonders what the Green Party stands for. Is it anti-capitalist? My answer would be simple - yes. But it’s worth reading a lengthier and more clearly reasoned response!

Getting cultural for a second, My London Your London reviews the “Sacred” exhibition at the British Library.

Diamond Geezer has an entertaining look at the geography of 28 Weeks Later.

And finally, Inky Circus acts as an albatross dating agency.

That’s all for this week - next week, your host will be Clairwil.

There were two notable deaths in the world of cricket last week. One, Arthur Milton, was the last person to play both cricket and football for England. The other, Tom Cartwright, is a name with special resonance for me. My father regularly regaled me with stories of Cartwright, a hero of his in the 1950s and 60s Warwickshire teams. He still bristled with disappointment that he had never been given a longer chance at an international Test career - after all, this was a man who Richie Benaud described as one of the most accurate bowlers he had seen in all the time he watched cricket.

The obituaries of both contained stories that typify sportsmen of a different age, where, no matter what the competitive spirit, there was not such a ruthless professionalism in the will to win.

From Cartwright’s obituary:

From 1980 to the present, he ran the Welsh Under-16 team, showing as much concern for sportsmanship as for victory: “Sledging is infantile playground behaviour, isn’t it?”

The story I liked best, however, was this one, about an act of kindness on the part of Milton at the start of a young batsman’s career:

I first met Arthur Milton, who has died aged 79, in the Parks in 1959 when playing my first first-class match for Oxford University against Gloucestershire.

Milton was an established county batsman and had made his Test debut the previous year, thus becoming an international at both cricket and football - the last man to do so. I scratched about against John Mortimore before being dismissed without scoring. On a pair, and again confronted by Morty’s flighty off-spin, I got an inside edge and watched the ball go knee-high to Arthur, one of the game’s great close catchers, at backward short leg.

Arthur, to my astonished gratitude, parted his hands, letting the ball go through for three, his kindly gesture sparing a raw and nervous 19-year-old the ignominy of a pair on debut.

The great American sportswriter Grantland Rice once wrote “For when the One Great Scorer comes/To write against your name,/He marks - not that you won or lost -/But how you played the game.” Milton and Cartwright will have received top marks in the last week.

Over at Open University, there was (a few months ago) much discussion about what constitutes a good book review. Many of the conclusions seem obvious, but they bear repeating: in an environment, both academic and recreational, where far more interesting books are published than any one person could ever read, a good book review section can do much in filling in the gaps of public knowledge.

David Greenberg reports today that the Atlanta Journal Constitution is doing away with book reviews. This is undoubtedly a shame. Not only do book reviews fill in gaps in public knowledge, they can also highlight things that we really ought to be reading. It is sad that valuable content is increasingly seen as expendable - but then again, the number of people who buy a newspaper for its books section is decidedly limited.

Nevertheless, surely there is a simple solution these days. The Internet has allowed many gaps in markets to be filled, particularly as it has opened the prospect of publishing ones work to a large audience. Assembling a high quality team of reviewers may take time, and it takes no small effort to publicise a blog to the point that it becomes worthwhile. But if the decline of the book review is to be lamented, why not arrest the decline? After all, a slightly longer than average blog post is more or less the ideal length for a book review - long enough to highlight the interesting points of the book to whet the reader’s appetite, but not so long that the writer succumbs to the temptation to suggest what he would have written himself in the same situation. Moreover, a good group blog would have the immeasurable benefit of considerable eclecticism. It’s easy to lament the decline of the book review, but with the opportunities of the modern world, it’s a deficiency that could easily be solved.

When England were in the process of qualifying for Euro 2004, I wandered into the centre of Oxford with a friend to watch their final group game, against Turkey. It quickly became apparent we hadn’t gone to the most suitable pub for the occasion, when the crowd broke out into a raucous chant of No Surrender to the IRA.

The anti-bigot in me wanted to point out that St George was, in fact, Turkish. Thankfully, the part of me that believes in self-preservation thought better than that idea.

I mention this because Nosemonkey has written a wonderful post about St George, and why, in fact, he is the perfect symbol of an England that wants to play a role in Europe and the wider world. Well worth a read.

Here’s a few general blog links that might be of interest - the weekly Britblog Roundup, hosted this week by Mr Eugenides, and the biweekly Euroblog Roundup, hosted by Siberian Light.

I’m also blogging at Oval Office 2008; should have a piece or two up there later, which I will link to here.

Bryan Ferry has been castigated recently, for his comments regarding Nazi architecture.

According to press reports, the 61-year-old told the Welt Am Sonntag newspaper last month: “The way that the Nazis staged themselves and presented themselves, my Lord!

“I’m talking about the films of Leni Riefenstahl and the buildings of Albert Speer and the mass marches and the flags. Just fantastic - really beautiful.”

Ferry has since apologised, but this hasn’t stopped campaigns for him to be dropped as the one of the public faces of Marks and Spencer. Nor has it stopped people who are unable to look at the past objectively from peddling their outrage in the press. Victoria Coren writes in today’s Observer:

A few days later, amid calls for him to lose his lucrative modelling contract with Marks & Spencer, the donkey-brained singer has apologised, explaining that his remarks were made ’solely from an art-history perspective’.

Why stop at art history, Bryan? If we’re going to praise the Nazis, let’s really praise them. Those guys were seriously high achievers. They weren’t just racists, they were incredible racists. They didn’t just kill a few Jews, gypsies, Russians, Poles and homosexuals, they killed millions of them. They weren’t just a bit sniffy about handicapped people, they actually conducted experiments on them. They built up their camps to an impressive pan-European chain - the Costa Coffee of torture! Credit where credit is due.

It should go without saying that any right-thinking person considers the Nazi regime abhorrent. It shouldn’t be necessary to have to enumerate the reasons why it is abhorrent, and why society should be alert to make sure that fascist movements don’t rise again. At the same time, however, that doesn’t mean that every single thing that the Nazis did was abhorrent and should never happen again. Nor does it mean that there aren’t aspects of the Nazi record in power that we can look at and think of as a genuine achievement - getting the German economy to experience such growth so soon after hyperinflation and the Wall Street Crash took some doing. There are all sorts of debates and arguments about the propriety of the means that they used to achieve those ends. But that doesn’t mean that the ends can’t be viewed objectively either.

I would have thought that the case was even easier as far as Nazi iconography goes. For however much art is reflective of the social principles of its creators, however much art reflects political attitudes of its time, our first reaction is always to appreciate the aesthetic quality of the piece of art before us. When I first saw Turner’s The Fighting Temeraire, or Bill Reid’s The Raven and the First Men, my reaction had nothing to do with the hidden themes in the work (although in both cases there are many). They took my breath away simply because they were beautiful to behold. Both works of art convey in their images great craftsmanship, and invite further reflection on humanity in general. That is why I still cherish looking at them. Yet were it not for the “wow” factor, I wouldn’t have pondered further on them at all. And the same is perhaps even more true of architecture.

Is it possible to separate aesthetic beauty from political content? Coren asserts in her article that “In the case of Thirties German iconography, it is nearly impossible to divorce the two.” Yet I would be amazed if Coren thought it at all remarkable to question the artistic merit of the Colosseum. How does she think that was built, if not for the exploitation of labour on a massive scale? There are aspects of the Renaissance that weren’t all that pretty - religious conflict on a continental scale, for example - yet that doesn’t stop us hailing the artistic achievements of those who were a product of that ferment. It is perfectly possible to hail a work of art as brilliant while despising those who created it, or the political philosophies that they espoused.

Why is it wrong to admire Speer’s architectural plans for the capital of Germania as a model of grand town planning, yet acceptable to consider the Colosseum a wonder of the world? The answer must surely lie in the proximity of the Nazi regime to our modern age. While we are still in the presence of those who survived the Holocaust, while the international political projects of Europe still have as their key reference point World War Two, while those born in Germany after the war can still remember the national embarrassment of Hitler’s Reich, our emotional reactions to anything connected with Nazism are strong. That, in many ways, is a good thing, if it guards against the rise of any similar regime in the future.

But it is not a constructive way of looking at the past. We cannot hope to gain anything from a study of the past if we are too quick to categorise things as “good” or “evil”. It is possible to create things of real, lasting beauty through evil means. We should be proud to say that we reject the philosophy that led to many of the creations of the Third Reich. But that shouldn’t stop us from recognising that they are, in themselves, beautiful.

If there is one thing that the persistent debate over gun control demonstrates, it is that there is a real danger to collective memory. The icon of the National Rifle Association is not an AK-47, nor, indeed, any kind of gun that would be used today. The weapon that Charlton Heston dares the gun control lobby to pry out of his “cold, dead hands” is a revolutionary musket. For those who argue for an unrestrained right to bear arms, the issue is tangled up with those blinding promises of the Declaration of Independence - the rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. The right to bear arms is not a matter of simple policy, as it was in Britain after Dunblane, or in Germany when a disgruntled pupil shot 18 pupils at a school in Erfurt in 2002. For those who shout the loudest, it is a birthright, inseparable from a free press, freedom of religion, or the right to trial by jury.

The Second Amendment is one that is problematic for anyone who wants to untangle the history of the gun in America. It is the only part of the cherished Bill of Rights to have a preamble: “A well regulated militia, being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the People to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed.” In recent years, the two parts of the amendment have been seen as an either-or choice. Either the amendment was intended to provide for the upkeep of a militia, or it was intended to guarantee the freedom of the populace to arm itself.

The necessity of having an armed populace was easily evident in 18th century America. The USA did not occupy almost an entire continent as it does today - it was surrounded by hostile powers (Britain in Canada; France to the West; Spain held Florida), not to mention Indian tribes who frequently attacked American settlers on the frontier. The possession of a gun was often the only way to defend one’s property. Moreover, a militia prevented the necessity of a standing army (which Americans despised), and having militia under the control of states, rather than the federal government meant that any developing emergency could be dealt with by a force raised more or less in the area affected by attack.

For all that the freedom referred to in the Second Amendment is nowadays linked to the right to bear arms, historically it made most sense in the context of a militia. It was only through defence being a duty of the virtuous citizen that republican government could be upheld. If government was to defend itself by hiring mercenaries (whether native or foreign), that meant the ultimate power a government could hold - waging war - was controlled not by the people but an institution. And so, in 18th century America, the right to bear arms was just as much a civic duty as a civil liberty. As Saul Cornell points out in his work, the freedom to brandish a musket occurred at the same time that all able-bodied men were required to train and serve in the militia.

Clearly, then, the historical context in which the Second Amendment makes sense is no longer applicable to the modern day. The defence of the United States is no longer carried out by militiamen - indeed, the modern Minuteman Project that is intended to deter illegal border crossings gives an image of militia as a rag-tag bunch of ideological freelancers. In fact, the militia of the early republic were often well-organised and well-trained fighting forces with strict rules of conduct. Yet the job of being a soldier, particularly with rapid increases in technology, has now been contracted to full-time professionals and the National Guard.

There’s more to write about the developments in the interpretation of the Second Amendment both in legal and political discourse, but what is undoubted is that the vision that permeates both sides of the debate is a perversion of history. The right to bear arms means something different today to what it did when Madison proposed the amendment to Congress, and the several states ratified it.

The promises of the American Revolution have an incredibly strong pull - for Americans and non-Americans alike. Not only are the promises of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness attractive in their own right, but the documents in which the key promises are contained are written so powerfully that they have an almost intoxicating effect on the mind. Yet just because something has been written down does not mean that it represents reality. It is the strength of those promises, their irreducable link in the minds of Americans with freedom, that has the strongest impression on the mind however. The words, the societal norms may have changed their meanings, yet their link with the past cannot be broken. 

It is a trick of the mind that leads to the difficulties faced in the gun control debate today. How can words written plainly on a piece of paper change their meaning? But times change. The danger of not studying the past is that laws can last longer than people - and most especially in a (written) constitutional system. The present is even more fraught with danger when the veneration of a political system is so great that it bceomes almost untouchable - that, by linking something with the Founding Fathers, it becomes ‘good’ in itself, rather than because of any intrinsic merit. Society, laws, people are never frozen in time - they move forward with inevitability. The events of the past do not have that luxury - and that makes it essential that we do our best to understand them, and not allow them to become frozen in the modern mind.

There’s a number of things that I want to write about regarding the tragic incidents at Virginia Tech on Monday. I don’t have quite enough time to do them full justice at the moment, but I do want to commit to writing a few preliminary thoughts. It didn’t take long at all before the news of the massacre in Blacksburg sparked off a heavily political debate regarding the right to bear arms. It’s only natural that such a debate is re-ignited at a time like this, but at the same time, I can’t help but feel that it’s counter-productive.

The fact, as regrettable as it is, is that someone who is sufficiently determined to cause the sort of carnage seen on Monday will be able to get their hands on some kind of deadly weapon. It’s only those with significant mental health problems who do cause such tragic occurrences. And, unless the world is suddenly going to stop arms production and concrete over its existing weaponry, then these things will occur. Moreover, even if guns were banned, similar atrocities could be caused with all kinds of other weapons - some (like knives) easier to stop; others (like poison gas or bombs) even more potentially deadly and indiscriminate in their effects. Suggesting that gun control would stop these atrocities is a false argument; it might make them harder, but people as disturbed as the Blacksburg killer evidently was will find a way. Moreover, gun control in Britain, tightened further since the Dunblane tragedy, has persecuted those who want to use guns for legitimate recreational purposes whilst doing little to stop their increased use in organised crime. Laws, particularly general laws made in response to particular circumstances, can have unintentional consequences.

The other difficulty in thinking about gun control at a time like this is that it is easy to see our cultural norms as “superior” because tragedies like this seem less common; because the carrying of a gun in America is visible and, in many cases, almost ubiquitous. That doesn’t mean that portraying Americans as backward or wrong for their desire to carry guns is fair; nor does it mean that legislation that makes perfect sense in a largely urban European setting can fit easily upon gun culture in America. Yes, American belief in the freedom of gun ownership is very definitely an exceptionalist part of their character. That doesn’t mean it is per se wrong. Goldie Lookin’ Chain may have been satirical when saying guns don’t kill people, rappers do. But guns don’t kill people on their own - they need someone pulling the trigger.

Saul Cornell, in his superb recent book “A Well Regulated Militia” (which I’ll refer to later in the week, too), writes:

It is unrealistic to imagine a gun-free America. Nor is it realistic to expect Americans simply to accept that inordinately high levels of gun violence are simply the price of freedom. 

As hard as it is to not have a knee-jerk emotional response when you consider the human tragedy that unfolded in the classrooms of Virginia this week, there is a real need to step back from the emotional excesses of the debate. Gun control advocates must be careful not to portray all gun users as evil. The vast majority aren’t. Nor should the gun rights lobby be averse to having to prove a little more about their background, and have a little more regulation on what guns they are allowed to use. After all, just as the desire to use guns is perfectly legitimate, so are anxieties about not being on the receiving end of a stray bullet. The debate needs a little bit of perspective.

I guess it won’t surprise you to learn that I think a bit more thinking historically about the subject would go a long way. But that’s something that will be discussed later in the week here.