I used to like people. Now there are too many of themby Duncan Fallowell / December 20, 2002 / Leave a comment
There are far too many people in Britain. A few quiet areas exist on the Celtic fringe but these are now coming under pressure while the rest of the country is packed. Crises in crime, housing, transport, education, the health service and the environment will never be overcome, given the pressure of people. But the government keeps telling us we need more people. They warn us against the folly of pyramid selling schemes while locking our whole society into one. They deny human biology as completely as the communists. The communists thought politics could exclude self-interest. The capitalists think politics can exclude territory.
In the old days, when the Beatles sang “All You Need Is Love” and “Come Together,” I used to believe that the phrase “common humanity” had a noble, even reassuring ring. But it has since turned into a tidal wave of real people rushing towards us. Next year, the official population of Britain is set to go over 60m. But it must have done that already, given the levels of illegal immigration and the likely underestimate of the population in the last census. And still we are importing a city the size of Norwich every six months. People complain that we are importing poverty, disease and crime. But most important of all, we are importing congestion.
Those already here display all the symptoms of rats in an overcrowded cage. High and medium level violence we know about. There’s also low level violence-the squabbling, spitting, sneering, sheer nastiness and rudeness encountered in public situations. Insulting language is everywhere taken for granted. Road rage, tube rage, street rage. Litter, filth, vandalism. Graffiti everywhere-no, it isn’t art. Now everyone is in the “angry business.” This article is angry. And beneath the low level violence is the ubiquitous stress.
We are informed that there is no option-you’ve got to sit there quietly and watch the country being wrecked. So, in public, people try to blank each other out to survive. No one acts normally on the streets-except sometimes the old. If a man smiles at a child he’s a paedophile. Communal trust is lost. All is tension, battling through. In private life, it is head-in-sand or get drunk. A vast quantity of drugs, illegal or medically prescribed, are taken to blot out the psychological and actual noise. Then there’s television as Valium, barmy religiosity as a life-raft.
We are a…