Now is the time for comfort reads

It all started on the day after the Brexit referendum. People who do not get the result they voted for in any election are naturally annoyed, sad, even despairing. If we sincerely believe in one political party and point of view, and lose to the opponents, we feel doomy and gloomy and say so. We used to speak our minds to friends and fellow believers, and that was that.

Brexit changed everything. For many who lost, that was not that, and it still isn’t. What started on social media extended to public platforms and personal communication. Disagreement became vicious, language abusive, people tore at one another, claws out, simply for having a different opinion. I lost count of the old friends who dropped and blocked me on discovering I voted Leave and have never picked me up again. The media stirred the pot. Interviewers aimed to trip up and trap anyone ‘on the wrong side’, rudely and aggressively.

This new way of interviewing public figures, notably politicians, has worsened in coronavirus times. I no longer watch or listen to the news, I read it calmly and silently in newspapers, but when I catch the daily briefing I am appalled at the confrontational tone and lack of manners. Twitter trolls are the worst offenders, intolerant and finger–pointing, and the offensive language and pugilistic attitudes are often terrifying. Brexit rightly aroused legitimate concerns and strong feelings, but why did manners and respect fly out of the window? Why has a pandemic which is killing thousands and bringing countries to their knees turned normally polite and reasonable people into deriders? How does every man and his dog suddenly know better than the experts and beleaguered politicians trying to get it right?

Things deteriorated when usually responsible people in positions of authority chortled when the Prime Minister was hospitalised, hoped he would die when he went into intensive care, and jeered about ‘second homes’ when he was discharged to recover at Chequers.