Modern manners

New York is a people pleaser’s hell

Oh, New York, New York. So nice they named it twice. It never sleeps. It’s New York or nowhere, they say. And also — start spreading the news — it’s a people pleaser’s hell. I’ve written for this magazine before about the absurd hurdles I’ve encountered as a British-sounding expat trying to come to grips with the salespeople and baristas of the Five Boroughs. I’ve described the well-meaning individuals who can’t — for love nor money — figure out what I want when I order a “water.” “Oooh wah-der!” they’ll eventually exclaim in a voice laced with pity for the poor foreigner, presumably just off the boat. But over the last few months I’ve become painfully aware of an even more inhibiting feature of this city.

New York

The neo-Marxist takeover of our universities

According to Greg Lukianoff and Jonathan Haidt, America’s universities have succumbed to ‘safetyism’, whereby students are protected from anything that might cause them anxiety or discomfort. In their book The Coddling of the American Mind, published this week, they attribute the spread of ‘trigger warnings’, ‘safe spaces’ and ‘bias hotlines’ on campus to a misplaced concern about the psychological fragility of students. In their view, millennials aren’t ‘snowflakes’, but imagine themselves to be on account of having been surrounded by over-protective parents and teachers.

neo-marxist stepford students universities

The #MeToo movement is making sex great again

Sexual intercourse, Philip Larkin famously wrote, began in 1963. And listening to contemporary commentators, you’d think that it came to an end in 2017 with the birth of the #MeToo movement. For these voices of doom, the end of the erotic is nigh; Britain is on the brink of sexual apocalypse.The recent news that Netflix has banned flirtation from film sets — along with lingering hugs, requests for phone numbers and extensive touching — is for these commentators just the latest example of #MeToo sexual correctness gone mad. They fear we are witnessing the making of a bland new world where the rules and regulations governing social relations between the sexes will become so oppressive that the very sexiness of sex itself will be snuffed out.

Can you prove you’re not a racist?

After an essay in this month’s Prospect about literature and freedom of speech, it seems I was cited on Twitter as a ‘racist provocateur’. Now, I rather fancy being a ‘provocateur’. But as for the adjective. Someone can call you ‘stupid’, and that’s just one person’s opinion. It doesn’t seem true because a single childish naysayer has impugned your intellectual prowess. Yet hitherto, the tag ‘racist’ has tended to stick. And it’s self-verifying. Why ever would anyone call you a racist if you weren’t one? In our current climate of sensitivity about race (and everything else), finger-pointers wield enormous power.