The politics of gossip

25. June 2025 · Write a comment · Categories: Media & Politics, Uncategorized
English fans at Estádio Mineirão in Belo Horizonte during the Costa Rica-England match for the 2014 FIFA World Cup, Brazil. 24 June 2014, 11:17:21 Source: Mariordo (Mario Roberto Duran Ortiz)

Ever wondered why you often feel overwhelmed and powerless in the face of the daily news coming at you from TV, radio and social media? It is easy to lose sight of the culture we have surrounded ourselves with, to assume that it could be no other way and that we are seeing the world as it is when we are “assisted” to make judgements about things and people, that the way we organise our society has been distilled from hundreds if not thousands of years of experiment to arrive at something which we would be foolish to deviate from too much.

So it is always valuable to come across a book which challenges this very particular viewpoint, coming as it does from a very particular geography or geographies and at a very particular point in our history. Harvey Whitehouse’s excellent Inheritance – the Evolutionary Origins of the Modern World is just such a book. Its main contention is that our beliefs and behaviours have evolved much as our biology has and that three urges in particular can explain how our cultures have developed: conformism, religiosity and tribalism. All had strong survival advantages to them: conformism, via the urge to imitate, allowed us to store discoveries and innovations from generation to generation and build them up over time; religiosity, a by-product of our adaptive psychology – to anticipate how others will behave, to create lists and categorisations, our tendency to think things can be used as tools, and our other tendency to overdetect potential dangers around us; and finally tribalism. These urges have been used to create progressively more complex societies via routinisation of our lives and the fusion of our identities (the extreme state that causes people to lay their lives down for each other in military conflict in extreme cases for instance) with ever larger groups.

And some of the places Harvey and his co-researchers have ventured to test their ideas sound extremely challenging. Interviewing insurgents in the Libyan revolution, being initiated by the Baining tribe in Papua New Guinea, talking to a former member of the Indonesian terrorist organisation Jemaah Islamiyah about working with convicted terrorists in Indonesian prisons. People often with completely different perspectives on things which we have long regarded as settled in our own culture but also recognisably the same as us in all important ways. However I think my favourite attempted interviews were when they were making their way through the crowd at the England game against Costa Rica at the 2014 FIFA World Cup to test out their hypothesis that losing at football had “a more powerful bonding effect on supporters than winning”. 48 years of pain, etc.

The experiments they have carried out are also eye-opening. Creating made-up rituals of different intensities in a wooded field near Queens Belfast to see whether those who had been more scared by what they had been asked to do reflected more deeply on their experience and developed richer symbolic interpretations of the ritual. These developed until they were wiring up participants within a performance space with powerful speakers and lighting effects to lead them through rituals of even greater intensity.

Once you have started looking at your own society a bit more from the outside in this way, it is hard to stop. There is a great passage in the book about gossip:

When we lived in small communities, in which everybody knew everybody else, news consisted mainly of socially strategic information about who was hoarding wealth, who was telling lies, who was sleeping with whom, who was stealing, who was free-riding, and so on. In most of these newsworthy stories, there would be transgressors and victims, and news purveyors and consumers would be very sensitive to the reputational consequences of this information. The common term for this is gossip.

So today’s front page from The Daily Mail is almost purely gossip: an article about the wedding of a man widely regarded as having hoarded wealth on a literally galactic scale and the potential reputational damage to the Prime Minister of a backbench revolt against his proposed disability benefit cuts.

Similarly today’s front page from The Sun is also almost purely gossip: a story about people variously called migrants and asylum seekers (presented as the same thing) asserted to be illegally working as delivery riders, which the paper labels as a “scam”. Plus something about the return of Cool Britannia and Keir Starmer warning us to prepare for war and the story about us buying some new fast jets which could carry nuclear weapons.

Now these are potentially important stories about how we want to run our country (well not the Bezos wedding or the Cool Britannia ones), but they are all told through the medium of gossip. This means we focus on the moral transgressions of people we will never meet that do not affect us personally rather than whether we are managing our complex society remotely competently.

The Daily Star makes it even easier to see how a serious story about the war between Iran, Israel and the United States can be reduced to one about Trump’s so-called “F-bomb”. And it may look like I am picking on the red tops, but all these stories are present and correct in The Guardian too.

I have just focused on a few newspapers here, but obviously social media has turbo-charged this effect and now with the power increasingly to generate convincing images and videos of things which have never even happened, the ability to unhinge our “news” operations completely from real life has never been greater.

If you were being presented with this gossip in a social situation within a group of people all spouting the Deliveroo story, it would be hard to argue with it, as it would fight against your very strong instinct to conform in your behaviour and to belong to the tribe you were surrounded by. The conflation of the Cool Britannia idea and the fast jets with nukes is a mystical jingoistic attempt to pull at our natural religiosity.

This is not news at all, it is psy-ops.

History for today

15. April 2025 · Write a comment · Categories: Media & Politics
https://s3.amazonaws.com/libapps/accounts/25768/images/missilesoct.jpg

Roman Krznaric has recently written a book (History for Tomorrow) of suggestions for how we can learn useful things from history to navigate our way into the future: from how to nurture tolerance, bridge the inequality gap and revive faith in democracy to how to break fossil fuel addiction, kick consumer habits and secure water for all. In the introduction to all of this, there is a particularly arresting paragraph (perhaps particularly so for me as I was born in October 1962):

“Can history really live up to such promise as a guide in a complex world? In October 1962, in the midst of the Cuban Missile Crisis, President John F Kennedy turned for counsel to a recent work of popular history, Barbara W Tuchman’s The Guns of August, which chronicled the series of misperceptions, miscalculations and bungles by political and military leaders that had contributed to the outbreak of the First World War. Kennedy was worried that an aggressive policy response from the US might lead to a similar cascade of decisions that could provoke Soviet premier Nikita Khrushchev to push the nuclear button. ‘I am not going to follow a course which will allow anyone to write a comparable book about this time – The Missiles of October‘, the president told his brother, Attorney General Robert Kennedy. ‘If anyone is around to write after this, they are going to understand that we made every effort to find peace and every effort to give our adversary room to move’.”

Unfortunately JFK did not fully get his wish. Yes nuclear war was averted but a movie was made in 1974 with the title The Missiles of October, starring William Devane and Martin Sheen and with JFK’s brother getting a writing credit! JFK was assassinated a year after the events of October 1962 and his brother was assassinated in 1968.

Sometimes history can just put what seem like current quite extreme events into a broader context.

For instance, which US Secretary of State said of the UK:

All we needed was one regiment. The Black Watch would have done. Just one regiment, but you wouldn’t. Well don’t expect us to save you again. They can invade Sussex and we wouldn’t do a damn thing about it.

Sounds like the kind of thing JD Vance would have said at Munich, doesn’t it? But it was in fact Dean Rusk in 1964 after the UK declined to send troops to Vietnam (something I discovered from Alan Johnson’s biography of Harold Wilson). So immediately we can see that, objectionable as Vance is, Vances have happened to us in the past and we’ve survived them. If, as seems likely, we are going to be reversing many of the assumptions of globalisation over the next few years, we should perhaps expect international diplomacy to look more like the 1960s than the 2010s.

Another example, courtesy of Ed Conway. Trump’s bid to secure minerals in return for continued support of Ukraine seems extreme to us. Until we realise that FDR considered all kinds of possible things from the UK in return for the Lend-Lease deal which allowed the UK to continue fighting the Second World War.

Once we realise that some aspects of Trump’s behaviour merely belong to a period of international relations that we thought we had evolved beyond rather than being totally unprecedented, then we can understand it better and respond accordingly.

The Redistribution of Space

10. April 2025 · Write a comment · Categories: Birmingham, Climate Change, Media & Politics

My 60th birthday celebrations, a couple of years ago now, centred around train journeys to the South of France and then onto Madrid. The highlight was (pictured above) spending a large part of my birthday, in mid October, on a huge deserted beach at Narbonne and being able to comfortably swim in the sea. So much space.

And the trains also seemed so much more spacious. I travel a lot on trains in the UK, with sometimes comedically little space. And I am not just talking about space in terms of leg room in European trains, but also whenever you want to walk over to the restaurant carriage on the upper floor of a double decker train to improve the views, with a bar and an array of kidney shaped tables dotted around the carriage to eat hot meals at, before ambling back to your seat. Mental space is much greater too, with fewer announcements and partitions between passengers to reduce the amount of conversation bouncing around the carriage. I had several 5-6 hour journeys over the two weeks I was away, and they were without exception very relaxing experiences.

So enough travelogue. What point am I making? It is the importance of space.

I think of other things where my view of it has been affected by the space attached to it. Take swimming, for example. I spent three of my formative years (aged 3 to 6) in Singapore where my father was stationed with the RAF. We swam outdoors at the Singapore Swimming Club every afternoon and lived in flats right next to a beach. Swimming was all about space – on my back staring up at the limitless sky, or mask and snorkels on and face down to explore the depths of the pools.

Back in the UK, it has never been anything like the same experience. I have swum in pools in village schools in Yorkshire, council pools in Cheltenham and Witney, the pools built for the Youth Games in Sheffield, a private school’s tiny pool in Oxford where I did my bronze survival badge. Endless school outings with compulsory swim caps and cold water. I have swum in lakes and spent probably more time in the Cherwell than was strictly healthy, sometimes deliberately, sometimes because the canoes we were given at school were designed to be manoeuvrable rather than stable. I have swum in decaying metal structures in spa towns and pools fed by spring water with no heating in the Peak District. I only discovered body boarding relatively late and the joys of doing it for much longer in colder seas with a wetsuit even later (last year). I also spent a fascinating morning with the Wild Woman of the Wye, Angela Jones, learning how to swim safely in the river in our current polluted times. And it certainly feels like the decline in swimming quality in recent years extends indoors as well as outdoors. The Wyndley or Beeches Leisure Centres near my part of Sutton Coldfield just don’t hold much appeal for me. Sure there are bodies of water there, but nothing to lift your spirit while using them and the constraints, in terms of the narrow time slots and even narrower lanes you are confined to, are the very opposite of my earliest experiences of water. I am lucky enough to be able to afford the local David Lloyd Centre, with much less pressure on their pools, in particular their excellent outdoor pool in Birmingham, which is miraculously underused. On a day with bright sun, with the birds singing and a light breeze rustling the trees just enough to drown out the industrial hum from next door and push back the smell of solvents, I can sometime almost imagine I am back in the Singapore Swimming Club.

But generally when you attempt to venture outside you find the constraints are even greater than those at Wyndley swimming pool. According to the Right to Roam campaign group we only have access to 3% of rivers in England. Meanwhile the Outdoor Swimming Society are campaigning for swimming access to reservoirs.

On land we have slightly more access, but half of the land area of England is owned by around 1% of the population. As Guy Shrubsole points out:

The aristocracy and landed gentry still own around 30% of England, whilst the country’s homeowners own just 5% of the land. The public sector owns around 8% of England; the country’s 24 non-Royal Dukes own a million acres of Britain.

I can only redistribute some space in my direction, on a train, in a pool of water, by paying more than most can afford for those experiences, and allowing me to behave like a non-Royal Duke for a short time.

This has huge implications for carbon sequestration of course, with, for example, 60% of deep peat owned by just 124 landowners. These landowners are not looking after it very well either, with upland peat being degraded as a result of moorland burning for grouse moors, and lowland peat in the Fens and elsewhere being damaged through drainage for intensive agriculture. As a result, England’s peat soils are now a net source of carbon emissions rather than a sink, leaking around 11 million tonnes of CO2 annually. The Government has committed to protecting 30% of land in the UK for nature by 2030, but is itself hugely constrained by the concentrated ownership of land.

So our land is like our swimming pools: tightly constrained by the narrow time slots and narrower lanes most of us are allowed access to. We are being stifled by the property rights of a tiny minority.

The Economics of Laughter and Forgetting

27. March 2025 · Write a comment · Categories: Actuarial, COVID-19, Economics, Media & Politics, Prediction, Risk
https://parliament.assetbank-server.com/assetbank-parliament/images/assetbox/b26cd8f5-538e-4409-b033-f1f02aea6821/assetbox.html

Milan Kundera wrote his The Book of Laughter and Forgetting in 1979, a few years after moving to France and the same year he had his Czech citizenship revoked. His books had all been banned in Czechoslovakia in 1968, as most of them poked fun at the regime in one way or the other. The Book of Laughter and Forgetting was no exception, focusing, via seven stories, on what we choose to forget in history, politics and our own lives. One of the themes is a word which is difficult to translate into English: litost.

Litost seems to mean an emotional state of feeling of being on your own suddenly brought face to face with how obvious your own hopelessness is. Or something to that effect. Kundera explored several aspects of litost at length in the novel. However, for all the difficulties of describing it exactly, litost feels like a useful word for our times, our politics and our economics.

I want to focus on two specific examples of forgetting and the sudden incidents of litost which have brought them back into focus.

The first, although not chronologically, would be the pandemic. There are several articles around suddenly about the lessons we have not learnt from the pandemic, to mark the fifth anniversary of the first lockdown. Christina Pagel, backed up by module 1 of the Covid-19 Inquiry, reckons:

Preventing future lockdowns requires planning, preparation, investment in public health infrastructure, and investment in testing, virology and medical research…

She takes issue with some of the commentary as follows:

But the tenor of reporting and public opinion seems to be that “lockdowns were terrible and so we must not have lockdowns again”. This is the wrong lesson. Lockdowns are terrible but so are unchecked deadly pandemics. The question should be “lockdowns were terrible, so how can we prevent the spread of a new pandemic so we never need one again?”.

However the stampede to get back to “normal” has mitigated against investing in infrastructure and led to a massive reduction in testing and reporting, and the Covid-19 Inquiry has given the government cover (all questions can just be responded to by saying that the Covid Inquiry is still looking at what happened) to actively forget it as quickly as possible. Meanwhile the final module of the Covid-19 Inquiry is not due to conclude until early 2026, which one must hope is before the next pandemic hits. For which, as the former Chief Scientific Adviser and other leading experts have said, we are not remotely prepared, and certainly no better prepared than we were in 2020.

It is tempting to think that this is the first major recent instance involving the forgetting of a crisis to the extent that its repetition would be just as devastating the second time. Which is perhaps a sign of how complete our collective amnesia about 2008 has become.

Make no mistake, 2008 was a complete meltdown of the core of our financial system. People I know who were working in banks at the time described how even the most experienced people around them had no idea what to do. Alistair Darling, Chancellor of the Exchequer at the time, claimed we were hours away from a “breakdown in law and order”.

According to the Commons Library briefing note from October 2018, the Office for Budget Responsibility (OBR) estimates that, as at the end of January 2018, the interventions had cost the public £23 billion overall. The net balance is the result of a £27 billion loss on the RBS rescue, offset by some net gains on other schemes. Total support in cash and guarantees added up to almost £1.2 trillion, including the nationalisation of Northern Rock (purchased by Virgin Money, which has since been acquired by the Nationwide Building Society) and the Bradford & Bingley (sold to Santander) and major stakes in RBS (now NatWest) and Lloyds. Peak government ownership in these banks is shown below:

If you read the Bank of England wacky timeline 10 years on from 2018, you will see a lot about how prepared they are to fight the last war again. As a result of this, cover has been given to actively forget 2008 as quickly as possible.

Except now various people are arguing that the risks of the next financial crisis are increasing again. The FT reported in January on the IMF’s warnings (from their Global Financial Stability Report from April 2024) about the rise in private credit bringing systemic risks.

Meanwhile Steve Keen (one of the very few who actually predicted the 2008 crisis) in his latest work Money and Macroeconomics from First Principles, for Elon Musk and Other Engineers has a whole chapter devoted to triggering crises by reducing government debt, which makes the following point:

A serious crisis, triggered by a private debt bubble and crash, has followed every sustained attempt to reduce government debt. This can be seen by comparing data on government and private debt back to 1834.

(By the way, Steve Keen is running a webinar for the Institute and Faculty of Actuaries entitled Why actuaries need a new economics on Friday 4 April which I thoroughly recommend if you are interested)

Which brings us to the Spring Statement, which was about (yes, you’ve guessed it!) reducing government debt (or the new formulation of this “increasing OBR headroom”) and boosting GDP growth. Watching the Chief Secretary to the Treasury, Darren Jones, and Paul Johnson from the IFS nodding along together in the BBC interviews immediately afterwards, you realised how the idea of allowing the OBR to set policy has taken hold. Johnson’s only complaint seemed to be that they appeared to be targeting headroom to the decimal point over other considerations.

I have already written about the insanity of making OBR forecasts the source of your hard spending limits in government. The backdrop to this Statement was already bad enough. As Citizens Advice have said, people’s financial resilience has never been lower.

But aside from the callousness of it all, it does not even make sense economically. The OBR have rewarded the government for sticking to them so closely by halving their GDP growth projections and, in the absence of any new taxes, it seems as if disabled people are being expected to do a lot of the heavy lifting by 2029-30:

Part of this is predicated on throwing 400,000 people off Personal Independence Payments (PIPs) by 2029-30. According to the FT:

About 250,000 people, including 50,000 children, will be pushed into relative poverty by the cuts, according to a government impact assessment.

As Roy Lilley says:

We are left standing. Abandoned, to watch the idiocy of what’s lost… the security, human dignity and wellbeing of our fellow man, woman and their family… everything that matters.

As an exercise in fighting the last war, or, according to Steve Keen, the wars successive governments have been fighting since 1834, it takes some beating. It was litost on steroids for millions of people.

So what does the government think these people are going to fill the income gap with? It will be private debt of course. And for those in poverty, the terms are not good (eg New Horizons has a representative APR of 49% with rates between 9.3% APR and maximum 1,721% APR).

And for those who can currently afford a mortgage (from page 47 of the OBR report):

Average interest rates on the stock of mortgages are expected to rise from around 3.7 per cent in 2024 to a peak of 4.7 per cent in 2028, then stay around that level until the end of the forecast. The high proportion of fixed-rate mortgages (around 85 per cent) means increases in Bank Rate feed through slowly to the stock of mortgages. The Bank of England estimates around one-third of those on fixed rate mortgages have not refixed since rates started to rise in mid-2021, so the full impact of higher interest rates has not yet been passed on.

So, even before considering the future tax increases the FT appears to be expecting, the levels of private debt look like they will shoot up very quickly. And we all know (excluding the government it seems) where that leads…

The Future

20. March 2025 · Write a comment · Categories: Actuarial, Climate Change, Media & Politics, Prediction, Risk, Science Fiction

This is the 200th post from this blog, so I want to talk about The Future.

The Planetary Solvency Dashboard https://global-tipping-points.org/risk-dashboard/

No. Not that future. Scary though it is.

I want to talk about The Future by Naomi Alderman. I read it last year, after wandering around the Hay Festival bookshop moaning that they don’t do science fiction and then coming across Naomi’s book and realising I had just missed her being interviewed. Then I watched the interview and bought both The Future and The Power (which I will talk about at some future date, but which is equally terrific).

The book is about Lenk Sketlish, CEO of the Fantail social network, Zimri Nommik, CEO of the logistics and purchasing giant Anvil, Ellen Bywater, CEO of Medlar Technologies, the world’ most profitable personal computing company, and the people working for them, and the people linked with those people. Zimri, Ellen and Lenk are at least as monstrous as Jeff, Sundar, Elon, Tim and Mark. And they are all preparing for the end of the world.

(If you need to remind yourself what Elon, Jeff, Mark and Sundar all look like milling around, below is a link to Trump’s inauguration:

https://apnews.com/video/jeff-bezos-district-of-columbia-elon-musk-inaugurations-united-states-government-486ab2a989e94aaa8c9afec15bebeb51)

Anvil is set up with alerts for signs of the end of the world being reported anywhere: giant hailstones, plague of locusts, Mpox, rain of blood which turned out to be a protest for menstrual equity involving blood-soaked tampons being thrown at Lenk and co as they emerged from a courthouse in Washington. The information Zimri, Ellen and Lenk have on everybody else in the world makes them feel all seeing, all hearing, all knowing. Combined with riches unknown to anyone before in history it makes them feel invulnerable, even to the end of the world, even to each other. Which turns out, of course, to be their decisive vulnerability.

It takes in survivalism, religious cults and wraps it all up in a thriller plot which is absolutely the kind of science fiction you want to be reading now instead of listening out for the latest antics of the horse in the hospital. And it was all written over a year before Elon even started with DOGE. The Future by Naomi Alderman is a fantastic read, particularly if you would like to see someone like Musk get an appropriate end to his story. I obviously won’t spoil it by saying what that is, but I don’t think I would be giving anything away by saying rockets are involved!

The Government Knows Zero

13. March 2025 · Write a comment · Categories: COVID-19, Demographics, Economics, Media & Politics
Successive OBR forecasts of % changes in GDP year on year since the pandemic https://obr.uk/publications/

This blog has a long history with the OBR, which I won’t go into here, although you can get a sense of it from this. It was the reason the blog is called We Know Zero. However I find myself returning to talk about them once again in the light of some of the Government’s latest spending (or removal of spending) plans.

Daniel Susskind had this to say about the role they are currently playing for the Government, to determine whether it is going the right way to achieve economic growth:

This was never meant to be the OBR’s purpose. Set up in 2010 by George Osborne, then chancellor, it was designed to solve a different problem: that the official UK public finance forecasts were not credible. The Treasury had a strong incentive to massage these numbers into better shape, whatever the political make-up of the government. And the belief was that an independent statistical authority would be free of that temptation. To that extent, the OBR is a success story: its forecasts do appear to be less biased.

At this point I need to stifle a snigger: less biased than what? I think it may not have a political reason for bias, but their methodology is like train tracks as I have maintained since this blog started in 2013: if you lay them out in a particular way then, even if you don’t want to call it bias, that is the way the train will run (to misquote Yes Minister). It may be statistically unbiased, in the same way that someone who misses a penalty past each post (I am sure that this analogy has nothing to do with my team going out of the Champions League this week) has, on average, hit the target.

However I agree with Susskind that the OBR was certainly never set up to advise on policy. As he goes on to say:

With that in mind, the idea that the OBR somehow knows enough to take each UK government policy and state its impact on growth to a single decimal point is fanciful. Yet that is what it will attempt to do at the end of the month, with immense practical consequence. A reduction of 0.1 percentage point in the OBR’s potential productivity growth forecast, for instance, is estimated to create a hole of £7bn-£8bn in the public finances — that is the equivalent of the entire budget of Defra.

Or the foreign aid budget or disability benefits or…the list looks likely to go on.

In an open letter this week, 17 major charities including Scope, Trussell Trust, Citizens Advice, Mencap, Sense, the Joseph Rowntree Foundation and the RNIB urged the Government not to cut the Personal Independence Payments (PIP) and the Limited Capability for Work payment, saying:

Scope’s analysis of government figures shows that without PIP, a further 700,000 more disabled households could be pushed into poverty. Life costs more for disabled people. Huge numbers already live in poverty as a result of these extra costs. The impact of any cuts to disability benefits would be devastating.

Meanwhile Roy Lilley looks at those cuts from the NHS end of the lens. I don’t agree with his assessment of the IFS, but there is nothing else here to argue with:

Currently, 2.9 million working-age adults are claiming disability benefits, an increase of 900,000 from pre-pandemic levels, with 500,000 attributing their main condition to mental health issues.

Lilley asks why this is, comparing the mental stress attributed to the pandemic with that of the Blitz. He then cites a study by the Tavistock Institute:

While, in the post war years, mental health issues were still stigmatised, post-war policies focused on social security and housing aimed to reduce economic stress that so often is the contributing factor to poor mental health.

We have done a lot to reduce the stigma of mental health issues, but:

I question the policies. Social and economic factors. Job insecurity and financial stress must be the key factors that have a negative impact on mental health well being.

Back to the Trussell Trust, who have been running a campaign for a while now to guarantee everyone the essentials to live on. As they say:

More than three quarters of people on Universal Credit and disability payments have already gone without essentials in the last six months.

Back to Lilley, who as I said, is primarily concerned with the NHS:

Since 2019 the NHS has experienced a 36% increase in patients seeking mental health services.

As he goes on to say:

Labour’s plan to cut benefits won’t solve the problem. It’ll very likely make it worse.

Policies cutting the root causes of people needing benefits, like safe homes and decent jobs would seem much more sensible.

Unfortunately Lilley’s “if there is one organisation worth paying attention to” IFS believe that OBR forecasts should continue to underpin the Chancellor’s spending decisions. I couldn’t disagree more.

That means constraining the Government to act as if all it knows is what the OBR knows. Which is precisely zero.

The Sopranos 17 years apart

01. March 2025 · Write a comment · Categories: Legal, Media & Politics, Risk

For reasons I won’t go into involving a green double decker bus, a holiday cottage in St Ives and some raw scallops, I started watching a box set of the Sopranos in September 2023, rather later than the rest of the world, which had finished with the mobsters from Brooklyn in June 2007. We finally reached the 21st episode of series 6 a few months before Christmas 2024. And reacted in much the same way as I now gather (having researched it primarily to check I hadn’t got an incomplete box set) the rest of the world did over 17 years ago.

There are many advantages to watching something so long after the media around it has moved on. You get left in peace to watch it at your own pace. No one is giving you spoilers in little teasers stuck between other programmes. The chat shows are not talking about it. You don’t have to hear what every minor celebrity thought about it. You aren’t being constantly encouraged to get excited about it. You can just watch it.

However, now I have read up on the reaction at the time and the increasingly irritated responses of the show’s creator David Chase to the line of questioning he was getting about it, I think there is something for us here in March 2025. In particular, I am thinking about the following comment Chase made soon after the last episode first aired:

[The ending] said much more than Tony facedown in a bowl of onion rings with a bullet in his head, or taking over the New York mob. Tony Soprano had been people’s alter ego. They gleefully watched him rob, kill, pillage, lie and cheat. They cheered him on. And then, all of a sudden, they wanted to see him punished for all that. They wanted “justice”. I thought that was disgusting, frankly.

Chase also made reference to the fact that the US was involved in war against the Taliban in Afghanistan at the time and the Al-Qaeda unexploded car bombs in London that month:

There was a war going on that week and attempted terror attacks in London. But these people were talking about onion rings.

Which brings me to Donald Trump. Chase was interviewed by, amongst others, The Irish Times in 2019, the 20th anniversary of the first episode, and Trump perhaps inevitably came up in response to a question about the influences The Sopranos has had:

The use of a deeply flawed hero and his problems. And when news shows talk about Trump, for example, they’ll say it’s like The Sopranos. People, including your own paper, use The Sopranos as an example of crookedness and culpability. I don’t watch a lot of series television. Unfortunately what I do is spend my time watching CNN, Fox and MSNBC. So I get good and depressed, and angry.

What struck me about The Sopranos was how chaos followed him everywhere he went. Any normal person who interacted with his people got exploited, corrupted if possible and often destroyed, whether it was an AA sponsor who gets drawn into gambling on a scale he can’t handle, or someone who wants to cooperate in a movie, or even the staff and other patients where Tony is recuperating from being shot. He appears to be behaving normally and then he will suddenly beat up his own bodyguard for no other reason than to show his people that he’s not over the hill. He is both ridiculously sentimental and utterly ruthless if he feels threatened. And yet you are still left rooting for him a lot of the time, which of course is what made it such a fascinating series and also explained the consternation when the screen went black.

Now this is all very well when we are talking about a fictional character heading up a mob operation in Brooklyn. However it becomes something else entirely when it is a real President of the United States. There are so many perils to dealing with Trump: those which are like The Sopranos, ie the danger of being exploited, corrupted and destroyed by him. We saw this in full operation yesterday in the extraordinary treatment of Volodymyr Zelenskyy by him and his chief henchman JD Vance.

The full Oval Office remarks of President Trump, Ukrainian President Zelenskyy and Vice President Vance that ended in a contentious exchange over continued support amid the ongoing war with Russia. For more context and news coverage, click here: https://www.nbcnews.com

But what seems more important to me is that we focus on the perils of dealing with Trump which are not like The Sopranos at all: the inclination to cheer him on because he appears to be playing by different rules to the ones which we feel imprison us on a daily basis. So when he misuses charitable funds for political purposes and gets fined $2 million by the New York State Attorney General, we should refrain from cheering.

When Trump is fined $450 million dollars for financial fraud and illegal conduct, we should not just regard it as the rough and tumble of politics.

And when he is found guilty of 34 counts of falsifying business records, making him a convicted felon, it is not, as he claims “a rigged trial by a conflicted judge who was corrupt”, to be laughed off as just another one of Trump’s scrapes from which he emerges victorious.

We need to get our heads up out of the onion rings. This is not TV entertainment, it is the immediate future of the United States, impacting all of us whose countries need to interact with them without being exploited, corrupted or destroyed. He poses a serious risk to all of us.

So the question is what to do about it? This is what I intend to address in my next post.