David Cameron’s class credentials

It is astonishing how the right-wing press can spin a story. This Daily Mail piece provides so many shocking details about David Cameron's family and lifestyle but focuses instead on a criticism of the Labour Party. Cameron's mother-in-law reportedly belittled Labour's women MPs and ministers by criticising their helmet-like hair. There are 17 female Conservative MPs (out of 193 – just under 9%), 94 female Labour MPs (out of 350 – 27%), 9 Lib Dem (out of 63 – 14%). Rather than praise the more representative nature of the Labour Party in parliament, Lady Astor chooses to comment on their hair and condescending them by remarking that it must be ever so hard to work in the House of Commons. In all honesty I see no reason why an MP who clearly works hard shouldn't have a practical haircut, not everyone can lounge about on chaise-longues all day and have their coiffure tended to by personal servants.

The Mail article also tells an out and out lie that Samantha Cameron's mother married Viscount Astor in 1976 and had Samantha and two boys. She did marry the Tory peer but any idiot can work out that Samantha Cameron is not 33 (or younger) and that in fact she was divorced from Samantha's father before re-marrying in 1976. But then I suppose divorce doesn't go down to well with Daily Mail readers.

The original Telegraph interview it was sourced from paints an interesting picture. The article is mainly about the tragic loss of Astor's grandson (not about Hazel Blears' hair as the Mail like to think) for which much public sympathy has deservedly been shown. However there are some enticing insights into the lives of the Cameron entourage. "Women of my generation weren't really expected to go out and work," claims Lady Astor. Incorrect. Women of her class weren't/aren't expected to go out and work. After the Second World War women workers, whilst not the norm, became much more accepted, even (dare I say) married women. I should know – Lady Astor, aged 60, is slightly younger than my own mother who worked until giving birth to her first child and, whilst postponing any career, continued in part-time and voluntary employment.

Lady Astor began to "tire" of her jewellery business and so started working for Smythsons stationery. Samantha used to come and work for her (of course the Tories have a history of nepotism), when she left "they decided to take her on full time, but it was really because she was so good." I'm not doubting Samantha Cameron's credentials, but her impression in the media as the Creative Director of a successful stationery business provokes thoughts of an independent woman rather than one born with a silver spoon in her mouth.

Her comments on the NHS, that it is talked down, whilst complimenting it strikes me as hypocritical – after all it is the right who criticise the public sector and eulogise the private sector. On education too she seems wildly out of touch: "it's appalling what we are doing now for our children - people have to scrimp and save to send their children to private school." No, people do not/cannot scrimp and save to send their kids to private school. The other option is to raise taxes and improve the state school system. Something both Labour and Tories seem incapable of doing properly.

Civil liberties pt. 2

Whilst Mark Thomas wrestles back some of his liberties by having his DNA removed from the register, it has come to light that the police approach members of protest groups to act as informers, offering cash incentives for spying and threatening them with criminal records if they do not obey.

Meanwhile, members of the political elite and the blindingly ignorant audience on BBC's Question Time completely fail to understand the unjust nature of peaceful protestors being smacked round the face and kettled into small areas for hours with no food, water or toilets.

It's to be expected at protests, claims the bejewelled lady from the Institute of Ideas. It's a funny world where David Starkey is the only one defending the right to protest and accurately portraying the police as paramilitant thugs.

Noam Chomsky wrote about the efforts of big business in crushing labour unions through violence initially and then their use of propaganda. It can be easily translated to the portrayal of the G20 protestors in the right-wing media.

"The idea was to figure out ways to turn the public against the strikers, to present the strikers as disruptive, harmful to the public and against the common interests. The common interests are those of "us", the businessman, the worker, the housewife. That's all "us". We want to be together and have things like harmony and Americanism and working together. Then there's those bad strikers out there wo are disruptive and causing trouble and breaking harmony and violating Americanism." (Chomsky, Media Control: The Spectacular Achievements of Propaganda, pp. 24-25)

The Death of Ian Tomlinson and Civil Liberties in 2009

When I first heard about the death of Ian Tomlinson, the G20 protestor, I tried to keep an open mind. I had no information available apart from the death itself, and no reason to suspect anyone was to blame, or that no one was. Perhaps he had been crushed in the crowds, or had suffered dehydration on a very warm London day; maybe he had actually been involved in some of the violent scuffles that took place among those very few protesters looking for a fight.

The following day, more and more footage of the protests surfaced; videos of protesters smashing bank windows, of people fighting, but also of people peacefully demonstrating, singing together and setting up tents for an overnight camp. It was in this time too, however, that a manifestly more dark, sinister and troubling brand of footage was emerging, accompanied by accounts that the violence was not all being caused by those protesting. In the days that followed, more details about the death were released, provoking a growing concern and discomfort regarding these videos and the witness statements that shadowed them. Reports that it was the protesters who were causing all the trouble were being questioned. And finally, when these events culminated with a video clip of Ian Tomlinson minutes before his death, it came as a surprise to no one that his death had followed a horrific assault at the hands of the police.

The footage I refer to is, of course, the coverage of the police behaviour during the protests; videos that showed protestors ‘kettled’ into crowded areas for up to 7 hours without food or drink, demonstrators pushed violently with police shields and attacked with battens regardless of whether they were causing any harm or not. Accounts suggested that no one was allowed to leave these enclosed areas without having their photograph and address taken by police, before being forcibly dragged out one-by-one. A peaceful protest at Bishopsgate was allegedly stormed by riot police who viciously pushed and hit anyone protester unless they moved out of their way quick enough. This was footage that showed the police doing nothing less than violating the right to protest, assaulting innocent people under the guise of calming crowds, and committing no less violence than those few protestors so condemned in the media. It was in the context of these actions that the death of Ian Tomlinson occurred.

One of the most remarkable reactions to Tomlinson’s death came from the video showing him walking calmly and peacefully in front of police before being attacked. Suddenly, he could no longer be assumed a violent and juvenile ‘thug’, merely looking for a fight. No, he was an innocent man on his way home from work, and for this the police actions were unforgivable. What is revealed in this reaction is the implication that his innocence somehow makes any difference. Of course, there were people who chose to reflect their anger by retaliating to the police containment; but it is indicative of a society where civil liberties can not be taken for granted that were he engaged in conflict with police, he would have deserved to be violently beaten and hit to the ground.

The investigation into the events, by the IPCC, will now determine how much force the police were permitted to use on the day, and whether their attack directly led to Tomlinson’s heart failure, and a likely defence of the police will come from the latter question. However it is the former that is so troubling; just where is the line being drawn under what police are allowed to do in protecting the public? The method of ‘kettling’ (in which a crowd is contained within a small space for hours at a time) is still deemed a legal practice (though, significantly, this judgment came from the police force itself); yet it was this behaviour that led to so much violence in the first place. Likewise, the right to use battens to push back crowds, even when aimed at the head, is unquestioned, despite the fact that the police clearly weren’t acting in self-defence, and weren’t at any great risk themselves. Clearly, the line is now being drawn when police damage reached its absolute maximum, and a life is taken; so just why does anything less than this seem reasonable?

Following the events of September 11th, the western world was forced to accept that terrorism was now a very real threat, something confirmed by the train bombings in Spain and in London six years later. In 2009, it is still perceived as the biggest menace to national security. Accompanying that is a growing concern about knife and gun crime in the UK; indeed, as ever when a recession hits, crime increases and a new concern enters national consciousness. As fear and paranoia has grown, the government and police have implemented ever more stringent measures and punishments in the name of countering these issues. Examples of this include the 42-day act, and the right to search citizens at will. The problems stem from here, however. Firstly, this has led to a situation where the abuse of people’s rights has become more acceptable as long as it is for an overall good cause; no one cares about the plights of asylum seekers and young teenagers from troubled homes, as long as they feel safer; they no more deserve their treatment and rights abuses than those vandalising the RBS building at the protests, and yet people are all too quick to turn a blind eye when it’s in the name of ‘public safety.’ But the G20 protests revealed another problem with this strategy; under the guise of containing violence, the police have now licensed themselves to remove civil liberties in order to make their jobs easier. By playing on fears of violent protesters and mass riots, the police now feel they have the support they need in order to contain crowds, assault them and remove the right to protest. Civil rights in this country have been reduced quite drastically in many respects, and much of it is to ease the job of the police.

The death of Ian Tomlinson is frequently being compared to that of Jean-Paul de Menezes. While some commentators have argued that the cases should be separated, I think there is a troubling similarity in both cases. Under the line of public protection, the police have played a hand in abusing the rights of two British citizens. The problem with this approach, as the police are now finding out, is that every so often it is an innocent person that is affected, and the police are left with cold blood on their hands.

The Decline of Film Photography in the Mass Market

Film photography is regrettably declining in popular use. From its position at the top of Christmas lists, the film camera has been forced into the specialist realm by digital photography. It used to be the case that most families would own a film SLR or at the least an automatic camera of some sort; now such items signal artists and poseurs. Needless to say there are advantages to the rise in digital photography, but when eating away at the film photography market, perhaps the effect this is having on photography needs to be questioned.

The popularity of digital cameras has had a few devastating effects on the film photography industry. Specialist shops such as Jessops are aimed almost entirely at digital camera users, stocking little film-related equipment at an increased price - even the film processing departments have been pared down. The reason for this change in focus by retailers is purely profit-driven; the digital market is where the money lies for photography shops, and consequently they are selling less and less film and at a greater price. If more people used film, the price would go down and more would be on sale. However, this change needs to happen at the hands of the shops rather than the consumers; the prices need to go down first, and the film camera promoted as a genuine alternative to digital, before the market is revived. By limiting the film photography market in this way, the shops not only force those who use film to pay more and more, but they are also manipulating the death of film photography entirely. Polaroid film is now no longer produced, and it can’t be long before all film photography is pushed out by its digital counterpart.

Film photography is something that should not be forgotten with time. One of the greatest misfortunes in the decline of film photography is that the quality of digital pales in comparison. Even dSLRs fail to meet the standards of film SLRs, producing flat, two-dimensional prints rather than deep, full colour photos. With this in mind, it’s not surprisingly that the average digital camera offers little in the way of creative flexibility, and little variety in photographic quality. In contrast, film produces much more authentic looking photos; even the slightest change in light and timing can produce an entirely different photograph. Digital cameras may offer the chance to view any photo seconds after being taken, but little compares to collecting a film roll 3 days later to find a beautiful accident produced from a slip of the hand, or a slight fracture of sunlight.

The expansion and development of the digital photography market has meant that, after the initial price of a camera, photography is essentially free. Gone are the days when a single photograph actually costs money; consequently, a digital camera owner can take photos like there's no tomorrow. There is no problem with something suddenly becoming free, of course; the transition of any product into the affordable mass market prevents them being limited to the wealthy. What this transition does mean, however, is a shift in the meaning of photography as a concept. Consider the Polaroid; at £1 a pop, it is perhaps the epitome of expensive photography. As a consequence any Polaroid camera owner with half a brain is extremely careful who or what they photograph. A treasured moment or special occasion. And if someone is blinking, that's tough - it captured the moment, now move on. Digital photography removes this need for selectiveness, and as a result what is special about photography is lost. Rather than remaining a considered attempt to capture a certain moment for a particular reason, photography is now a repeated action undertaken carelessly often for no real reason at all. Today’s photos don’t go into photo collections or on walls; they go into endless Facebook albums, to be glanced at once and never viewed again.

Finally, the film camera as an invention, too, is one that should not be constrained within the walls of photography museums. The first photograph was taken in the early 1800s, and the next two centuries saw a continuous advancement in cameras, the flash bulb, and of course the film used to capture photos. The history of the film camera is metaphoric of the human striving for perfection and excellence; the refusal to be satisfied with anything less than the superlative. Given the first digital camera was invented in the 1970s, it represents only a small part of photography’s story, and much of the progression now seems more interested in practicalities, such as size, accessibility and speed, rather than the photography itself. If this decline continues, the film camera will inevitably soon be confined to a permanent position behind display glass, appreciated only as a precursor to the digital age rather than as one of the most ingenious, influential and incredible inventions of all time.

The rise of the digital camera is something that should be appreciated; it has brought an art form away from the rich and to the masses, giving everyone the opportunity to enjoy photography. However, it is clear that digital photography is no longer being marketed as an alternative to film, but as its replacement. While the benefits of digital cameras are significant, their development has come at the cost of film photography, and in capitalism’s unending march towards profit margins, a truly great art from is being lost.

Facebook: Opiate of the 21st century masses.

I have recently, for a reason I can’t tie down to any particular moment, developed a disdain for Facebook.

It is not that I don’t recognise the benefits of the social networking site. As a communication tool, it is revolutionary; indeed, it seems inevitable that our generation will remain in contact with each other more than any that has preceded it. But this isn’t the only reason we use it. Emails are instant and free, and to be a member of any social networking site requires an email account in the first place; so why not stop there?

Clearly the answer lies in the fact that it has now become one of the main forms of entertainment for this generation. Social networking sites are extraordinary in the size of their content. Two minutes after entering my login details, I can look at photos from the night out my old primary school friend had last week; I can join a group encouraging its members to mass buy carrots on a particular day, or I can spend hours browsing the profiles of people I hardly know, snickering at their interests and speculating on their relationship status.

But it is here where the problem with social networking sites lies, two questions in the back of our minds, unasked and unexplored; is this really entertainment, and even if so, is it the sort of entertainment that we should be having?

Facebook is essentially a means of wasting time. Consider the other hobbies and interests people have listed on their profiles for all to see. People pay up to £100 for music and sporting events, considering them life-changing experiences. Climbers will travel miles to scale that perfect rock face, risking life and limb for the feeling of achievement. Has anyone, ever, been this excited about Facebook? Does anyone prioritize using Facebook over any other interest? It certainly seems unlikely. No, Facebook is seen on the computer screens of those with exams, those with essays to write, and those with work to do. Facebook is a means of avoiding productivity; it is entertainment in the weakest sense of the word, used my millions yet enthused about by none; it is the opiate of the 21st century masses.

It might be objected here that this isn’t in itself a problem. Isn’t the fact that millions use Facebook enough to prove its value as a source of entertainment? Does it matter that it isn’t rewarding, exciting, or engaging? Well, perhaps not. But if Facebook is a form of entertainment, weak though it may be, then it is one that does us no good, and one that we would be better without.

One of the signs of an addiction is the consumption the habit has over the other parts of one’s life. Now, before faced with accusations of hyperbole and exaggeration, I am not suggesting that Facebook users are addicted; however the pull Facebook has over one’s life cannot be doubted. Sit in a communal computer room, and watch how many people log onto Facebook as soon as their internet window loads, refreshing the page every ten minutes, waiting for something to happen. Watch people in clubs taking endless photos, the next day to be tagged, captioned and loaded onto a Facebook album, never to be viewed again save for that one profile picture. Consider the fact that you’d be unlikely to hear your grandma use the term ‘mutual friend’ two years ago, let alone all your friends. Perhaps Facebook might be a light form of entertainment, if only it were saved for procrastination from deadlines and duties. When it has become so entangled in our lives, to the point of wasting not only time we can afford to waste but also time we can’t, it is no longer amusing.

The possibilities that Facebook offers, too, are unsettling. Privacy issues aside, isn’t there something intuitively troubling about being able to view someone’s profile, make judgments about them, view their photos etc., without ever having met them? If you are not the culprit of this you may just as easily be the victim. And isn’t there something intrusive about being able to view two people’s conversation? Why is this the sort of entertainment people desire to have? Why is this to be encouraged? Isn’t it really quite pointless to spend time browsing all of someone’s photos from a night you weren’t at, and have no genuine interest in? It seems to me that if there is any entertainment to be had from the habitual browsing of Facebook, then it is entertainment that should be questioned, and even rejected.

The other day I arranged to meet someone on my course to do some group work; upon meeting her, she said to me “I looked you up on Facebook before hand, I recognize you.” Perhaps it is an advantage of Facebook that she could know who to look out for. But this seems like a solution to a problem that was never there, and suggests that in the age of Facebook nothing is being left to the imagination, everything scrutinized and challenged on a computer screen prior to in reality. My friend told me about a text she received from a friend once: “I’ve dyed my hair! Check out the pictures on Facebook.” She laughed about it, but in the end never looked at the photos, saying she would prefer to see it in person, where her reaction would be seen and appreciated; by viewing the photos online, ultimately the surprise and excitement of seeing something new would be absent. And perhaps this characterizes Facebook perfectly; in all the photos, status updates and profiles, despite the speed at which we can access each other’s lives, the surprise and enjoyment of communication are lost and forgotten. We know what we are all doing in two nights time; we know what conversations we had with each other, and we know how terrible we looked last Friday night. Facebook may be a tenuous form of entertaiment, but what it takes away is not worth losing.