Reactions to the sad events in London, and subsequently the rest of Britain, remain much as they were in the last outbreak of serious rioting in 1981 in the depth of the de-industrialisation of Britain. They show how little has changed, despite the protestations of lessons learnt in our showy parade of progress and enlightenment. Police, politicians, officials, trembling with indignation and anger, appear, declaring that ‘this is criminality, pure and simple’ (as though ‘criminality’ had arisen spontaneously from the hearts of the young, like the smoke over torched buildings), that these were ‘mindless thugs’ (as opposed perhaps to the highly mindful thugs in charge of policies cutting youth services, facilities for learning, educational maintenance grants and the agencies that offer hope to the poorest.) This is ‘copycat violence’. The ‘perpetrators’ will be hunted down and feel the full force of the law. They will be brought to justice. And justice means punishment.
Of course, victims whose homes and businesses have gone up in flames, did nothing to merit such a fate; and there is nothing to be gained by minimizing the wrongdoing that has evicted those who have lost everything. But it would be even more foolish to assume that the events that have convulsed London, Birmingham and Manchester are ‘gratuitous’ or causeless.
There is always an event that ignites (literally) the disorder. In the case of Tottenham, it was the shooting last week of a young man who, the police claimed, had opened fire upon them — from a minicab — and was shot dead. Some of the questions around this incident have been answered: the bullet the man is supposed to have fired was police issue and he could not, therefore have started firing. Although the family of the dead man dissociated themselves from the subsequent fury, this, soon ran, like the fires set by enraged youth, out of control.
But perhaps the most telling images remain, in 2011 as in 1981, of looting — electronic goods, clothing, furniture, supermarkets, mobile phones, sportswear, the livery of group and gang-belonging; and the flight of young people carrying off as booty goods they could not, in ordinary circumstances, think of buying. As the week went on, looting became the first objective of the young people — some only in the early teens; and although it was rare, a few examples of young children children were sighted helping their parents to fill supermarket trolleys with stolen goods.
And here emerges the long-term story to which these sad events are testimony and of which they are a continuing symptom. It is not only the growing inequality and impoverishment of those who have nothing, the ebbing of the already exhausted social hope of people born to the social immobility of the rock bottom, and who have nothing to lose by running away with the merchandise which lies, suddenly exposed and vulnerable, to the chill August night. It is also a question of the profounder changes in British life, and our steady progression from market economy to market society to market culture.
The young people involved are essentially children of the market: formed by and within its compulsions. No wonder they are regarded with fear by those schooled to the more sober disciplines of society. Looting is, as it were, only a more brutal form of shopping by those who do not have the medium of exchange for approved transactions. They have been brought up in a culture, in which millionaires regularly read the Financial Times supplement every Saturday which advises them ‘How to Spend It’; while they live on the edge of destitution. What visiting the full majesty of the law upon those who have nothing will achieve is unclear: they may, contrary to the instincts of Kenneth Clarke, fill the jails with new apprentices to yet more sophisticated crime, but no plans have yet been published that suggest that the outcast and the wanting of another generation are going to receive anything but more victimisation, more abuse and more blame for a predicament they never chose and certainly never made.