The most puzzling aspect of the official response to social evils in rich societies is its superficiality. “Remedies” proposed for under-age drinking are a characteristic expression of this: raise the drinking age, make drinking more expensive, prevent the sale of cheap drink in supermarkets and petrol stations. Similarly, in reaction to knife crime, gun crime and to teenagers terrorising the streets, ministers say: “parents must take responsibility” or “stringent laws are already in place” to deal with these things.
There is, of course, a good reason for the silence over a more searching analysis of what is wrong with “our” society. For all social ills are supposed to be remedied by economic success. And the economy has “performed” extremely well for the past 15 years. It is inconceivable that consistent growth, continuous expansion, and an uninterrupted rise in disposable income are compatible with the levels of violence, addiction, fear and social ill-being that we see all around us.
Governments are bound to deny any connection with the health of the economy and the sickness of society. The proponents of economic liberalisation speak as though deregulation brought with it no social or moral consequences. Deregulation, they claim, is a good in itself. Removing obstacles to growth and expansion must deliver the desired outcomes of affluence, contentment and social peace.
When confronted by gun and knife culture, the excesses of substance abuse, addictions, social and family breakdown, extreme individualism and the exorbitant rewards that co-exist with extreme poverty, a collusive consensus exists to shield these phenomena from their cause.
The economy now has to be treated with a veneration long lost to mere religion. It is anthropomorphised, the object of a tender concern of which people have ceased to be recipients: is it sick or healthy, does it need an injection or a shot in the arm, is it suffering or slowing down? It is also a semi-sacred phenomenon, which must be read for signs and portents. It must be propitiated and sustained, treated with an awe and respect which humanity forfeited long ago.
Indeed, humanity has become something of an intrusion into the majestic workings of the global economy. The only flaw in an infallible universe is a faulty, unregenerate, indeed, fallen humanity. The society of abundance requires a different kind of sensibility from that which served the old machinery of production: the deregulation of human wants, needs, demand and desire have been a necessary accompaniment of the profound economic changes we have experienced. The economy does not exist in a separate sphere from society, morality, the wellbeing of the spirit and heart. But it has been allowed to encroach upon areas of human experience that should be shielded from its violent incursions.