Manchester SOS: Save Our Ship

Manchester SOS: Save Our Ship

This week The Guardian published an article which claimed Manchester’s football clubs should remove the famous ship from their badges. The ship – which also features on the council’s Coat of Arms – was labelled as a symbol of slavery by journalist Simon Hattenstone. It shouldn’t be surprising The Guardian has managed to find something to be offended by when examining Mancunian symbols, it appears their job is to create issues where they don’t exist.

Not that slavery didn’t exist back when the ship symbol was adopted, nor an attempt to marginalise the effects of an abhorrent trade. Any suggestion that slavery should be celebrated or held aloft would rightly be condemned. But the Cult of Virtue Signalling has run into the problem all conspiracy theorists face: they only take the pieces of evidence which fit their narrative, discarding the rest.

This means everything presented lacks context. In the delicate case of slavery mentioned here, which happened in the nineteenth century, there should be consideration given to judging people by the standards of the day. A previously written piece on this site recalled how there were calls to remove several of Sir Robert Peel’s statues because his family profited from the slave trade. At the time, his father was breaking no recognised laws. By the standards of his day, there wouldn’t have been many complaints.

However, his son – Sir Robert – voted for its abolition. Yes, it can be argued he benefitted from the slave trade but the resulting power and influence helped bring about its end. He’s also the creator of the modern day police force, and brought in the Factory Act to minimise the working hours of women and children and introduced basic safety standards.

So, a pretty mixed bag, that’s impossible to reach a conclusion by wiping him from history. In comparison, the Manchester ship debacle created by The Guardian is easier to decipher.

Slavery had already been abolished when the ship was introduced as a city symbol. There is the misconception its existence is to mark the Manchester Ship Canal, but this isn’t the case. It was representing free trade. Manchester famously became the worker bees of the Industrial Revolution. Sadly, it’s less known just how prominent those workers were in ending slavery abroad.

Hattenstone would have you believe a booming Manchester was created off the backs of cotton slaves in the United States. This is false on two accounts. Firstly, Britain had also been using cotton from within its own empire, namely India. More importantly, Mancunian workers took a strong stance against the American Confederates. Liverpool had already been seduced by the wealth from “slave trade money” as the University of Manchester explains.

It was in Manchester where workers supported Lincoln and the American slaves and refused to conform to Confederate pressures. This even led to riots. The strength of character and principles cannot be overstated here. These were people who risked their very existence, struggling through a cotton famine, in order to enact a change for the better. A change that was on the other side of the Atlantic.

Are we to believe that workers who risked their livelihood to oppose slavery, later raised no objection to the city using a symbol celebrating the act? Or is it plausible that the ship’s inclusion was about free trade all along?

It would be ignorant to say Manchester – and Britain as a whole – didn’t at various points in history benefit from slavery. Where possible, appropriate reparations should take place. But The Guardian can’t pick a tiny snapshot of a situation, and make a large sweeping statement.

The Cult of Virtue Signalling should stop looking for extraneous links in an attempt to remove historical symbols and put some effort into preventing modern day issues. 

Why isn’t Hattenstone demanding Manchester City council close all the Nike stores in the area? His paper, The Guardian, wrote in 2001 that Nike couldn’t guarantee its products wouldn’t be made using child labour. Does anyone recall a twenty-year campaign from The Guardian to end child labour? Is it too far away from these shores to take an interest in? Because distance didn’t stop the ship symbol wearing workers of Manchester taking a personal stand against an issue on the other side of the world.

Do we excuse The Guardian because it’s socially acceptable to wear Nike trainers in spite of the links to child labour? On this issue, it must be okay to pass judgement based on the premise: we can only judge people based on the times they live in. This seems like double-standards.

Instead of trying to reinforce questionable links to slavery in Mancunian symbols, why isn’t The Guardian combating modern day slavery? There were 5,144 recorded offences in the year ending 2019. It’s safe to assume the real numbers dwarf this as organised crime makes it difficult for victims to escape.

Energy should be spent on real issues instead of creating strawman arguments where people in authority are too scared of opposing the view in case its weaponised against them politically.

Wouldn’t it be better to educate the people of today how we benefitted from slavery, acknowledge that evil, then explain how it was abolished and ultimately opposed in Manchester on behalf of those on another continent? That Manchester’s Ship is now a symbol of free trade, open shores — an open world, where every person is equal.

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Silver Lining?

Silver Lining?

Is it in bad taste to say some good can come from the loss of life?

When those deaths are in excess of 450,000 plus One is there any reason or outcome that offers justification?

When the plus One was the murder of a black man by law enforcement, should the suggestion come from a white person who may accidentally litter each paragraph with his privilege?

It all sounds a bit of a stretch. Decency and common sense say it’s best to stop typing now. But that decency has come from a background that prevents my neck being pinned down by a cop for eight minutes, forty-six seconds. The white idea of decency is turning the other cheek. Remaining silent now would be the most indecent act of all.

Before we get to the plus One, the number of deaths that will soon reach half a million needs to be considered. Everything requires context. It’s always cause and effect. The largest protests seen in thirty years didn’t come about just because of the plus One. People were primed, had been brimming.

It was coronavirus that saw the daily death rate rocket to nearly half a million. In response, the world went into lockdown. Daily life changed and may never return to a replica of before. Economies tanked by twenty percent. Families sat at home, wondering if their incomes would still exist after furlough schemes. Students couldn’t take exams. Doctors and nurses were used as frontline fodder.

It wasn’t a spring of renewed hope; it became a period of deathly stasis.

With the servitude to the rat race suspended, people became more opinionated, passionate about all causes and views. With each of those coronavirus deaths, people took a step closer to creating unified voices. Examining the government’s response to a never seen before situation was never going to satiate this newfound appetite.

Everyone in the room became restless.

Different sides had already formed—across all political lines—the pandemic just primed them for action. All participants were expecting something akin to the Brexit or Trump debate. The expected arguments would be how the half-million could have been reduced to something much less if only…

Each “If Only” could be argued and countered enough times to last an infinite number of lockdowns. Then those eight minutes and forty-six seconds happened. If there was no lockdown, there would have been widespread condemnation from families around the world. They’d have settled down after a long day at work, shook their heads at the television screens and made comments about how nothing has changed in America.

That America still has a race issue.

No senators would have taken the knee for a photo opportunity. Any protests would have been localised and quickly quashed. Marches in the UK would have been counted in double figures—if there had been marches at all. The world would have been too busy to stop for the murder of one more black person by a police officer. Everyone’s senses would have been dulled by the pressures of the day-to-day.

Lockdown was oppressive and liberating in equal measure, in immeasurable ways.

With each passing week, increased frustrations were harder to suppress, impossible to keep bottled. Eight minutes and forty-six seconds was the length of time it took the fuse to burn.

The murder of George Floyd was a bomb beneath the existing structures of systemic racism.

Thousands flocked to demand change. To chant in the clearest voice: Black Lives Matter.

It took nearly half a million deaths to make the world take stock. To put movie stars and heavyweight boxing champions front and centre, speaking from the heart at protests instead of condemning the situation in sanitised interviews during promotions for their product.

No one is born racist. It is usually taught. But people are born ignorant and that can grow. Worse still, it can be manipulated by those with agendas.

People using the counter chant All Lives Matter, haven’t understood the core issues. It’s a big part of their privilege, believing a universal view is the fix for isolated problems they’ll never face.

They need guidance. They’ve never spent a day in the shoes of a person who is pre-judged, looked at suspiciously, treated as a second class citizen, just because of their skin tone. They don’t see a problem because they’ve never personally witnessed one.
They don’t know what they don’t know, because they don’t know it.

Counter claims that America is the land of opportunity, that they’ve had a black president, underlines the ignorance. Just because you can make it, doesn’t mean you won’t face unequal hardships on the way. Doesn’t mean you won’t still be perceived as second class once you’re there.

The protests then became a magnet for the opposing view.

They didn’t need a fuse to be lit. The far-right are more like a jack-in-a-box, outdated and always ready to spring into action. The problem is, both extremes—right and left—further the other’s cause.

The left breeds hypocrites, the right produces honest liars.

Everyone needs education.

But with each confrontation, ears are closing.

Openness faces a new lockdown. The half a million will have died for no reason if reasonable people become obstinate in their opinions.

Should removing historical monuments occur when they have links to slavery?

The world has been taught to see in black and white, when it operates in a permanent state of grey.

To erase history means we can never learn from it; appearing to champion wrongdoings halts progress.

There is no easy answer. Here in the UK, there have been calls to remove Sir Robert Peel’s statues in Glasgow, Tamworth, Manchester, Bury and his monument on Holcombe Hill. He has fifteen statues around the world. A former Prime Minister and creator of the modern day police force. He had a patchy record on the slave trade. It appears he profited from it but did eventually vote for its abolition.

Peel is one case that needs examination. It’s not clear cut. People are of their time.

A future generation’s harsher standards will judge the presumed principled people of today. There is something uncomfortable about watching a young person fervently protest, and attempt to deface war memorials, based on the cultural oppression that led to a man’s murder while wearing branded trainers. The Nike tick and Adidas stripes are the modern day motif for slavery. But no one is pulling their stores down and placing them in rivers.

Women are trafficked and forced into sex slavery. But no one calls on the government to track each gang and give these women freedom.

Black Lives Matter, and that movement shouldn’t be hijacked or diluted by another. But the emergent voices for change can carry multiple causes going forward. Those ignorant to Black Lives Matter will always take a myopic view. This has been made more difficult with overreactions which further underline the lack of understanding.

When the middle of the road white man sees a classic comedy axed—one which its creator John Cleese defends—it incites a new type of division. A debate he had no facts for to start with, has just been changed into a talk about something else. He’s no longer thinking about those eight minutes and forty-six seconds. He’s blaming political correctness.

He may even begin to harbour feelings for a return to “better times.” Those times are just a construct: a part of the white collective’s imagination. They were never better times. It was a time Black Lives Matter could only be a whisper, not a chant.

Not the loud cry for help which now resonates around the globe.

Can over 450,000 deaths plus One ever be considered a silver lining?

The cloud that accompanies the lining is large. It blocks the sunshine of progress at every given opportunity.

Heading toward half a million is a big number but that single plus One stops a bigger count. It has paved the way for lasting change. The uncountable loss and damage racism produces every day. Utilitarianism states the most ethical choice is the one which is best for the largest number of people.

The plus One represents all people.

A chance for lasting change.

Everyone left behind has a debt to pay to those who have been taken. A vow to turn their passing into a positive action.

If you carry on as before, you’ll take your turn pressing a knee into a neck for eight minutes, forty-six seconds.

2010s: A Decade that invited the next Great Depression

2010s: A Decade that invited the next Great Depression

I once asked the question: why did I join Tumblr? The answer is probably for post likes this. The sort of post that is a personal reflection of something a wider audience doesn’t expect (or want) on my main site (but they’ll probably get anyway). The sort of post that looks back at a year, and then a decade. The sort of post that does so with a somber mood.

The Great Depression started in 1929, by then the world had seen one World War and was heading toward another. The turn of the new millennium has at least avoided this fate. It has followed history in other respects. The rise of the far right; anti-Semitism becoming commonplace, first with language and then actions; the poor being left further behind by the rich. 

Okay, we’re not heading to the sort of depression that was incorrectly labelled as Great. It’s a different type of one. The last decade — so devoid of colour it doesn’t even have a moniker like the swinging sixties or even the bland noughties — has invited a collective mindset to emerge that prays on fear and insecurities.

I wasn’t a massive fan of being a teenager, it’s apt that I’m not big on the decade with the teenage years in its numbering. The Tens (that’s what I’m going with) saw us accept the reduction of aspiration. We can thank austerity for this. If after years of being told there’s no money, a tightening of the belt required, it permeates into the collective mindset. Even for those that have disposable income.

Most of us ended up in houses we wished were bigger, working more hours than we’d like, mixing in shrinking social circles, watching others lead perfect lives on Instagram while being old enough to complain about it all on Facebook. Or in my case, not even bothering with the moan on Facebook because I can’t stomach the trawl through people’s dinners or exercise regimes.

It was a decade where Coldplay became the biggest stadium band on the planet. Now, I’ve been to several Coldplay gigs in the last decade so it’s safe to say I’m a fan but think about that for a minute: Coldplay are the biggest draw the globe has to offer. Coldplay.

They should be a great side act while generation defining entertainers shape the mood of the day. Instead, we see all acts from all decades converge via YouTube into every popular music venue around the planet. The time of today has become unstructured. Nothing defines The Tens. It was a place for compilation moods and the new blood was lacking any telling contribution.

Justin Bieber — a man with staying power and a massive fanbase — made the news in 2013 for not getting in a Manchester nightclub. A true global superstar that epitomised this decade could not enter a club incase he tarnished its image. That’s a club that no longer exists but were right at the time.

Of course, music is one aspect of a decade’s image. Politics is another that’s already been touched upon. The division will last another ten years unless a true centre-ground leader can unite the nation again.

Sport was better from this Man City fan’s perspective. Boxing saw some great fights and new household names emerge. It also saw some sports enter a beige state that’s indicative of the decade. Formula One hasn’t thrived since being sold to Liberty Media. It faces another year of purgatory before rule changes take effect.

Football is being damaged by the poor introduction of VAR. Real fans are becoming disillusioned with the clamouring to corporate types while the working class struggle to keep up. All the time, TV revenue rises and so do subscriptions. 

All this comes from a negative perspective. I’m sure there’s further evidence that less people are in poverty (on a global scale), there are less wars than ever and the standard of living has risen over the last forty years. It could be the forty year mark that has made this mindset appear. Hitting the big four-O creates a period of introspection.

The last year would be rated 4/10 if IMDb existed for dates and not movies. There have been personal achievements and life changes that viewed from the outside would make people expect it to be at least a 7/10. But the end of an average decade has been decidedly below average. Perhaps this is a natural decline in the order of things. My sister told me I was entering the Winter of my Life when forty came around. It was a joke with substance. 

The previous decade did appear like summer in comparison.

This is where a younger person will (rightly) complain about hearing the old “it was better in my day” line. For teenagers and young adults right now, I’m sure they can list many pop culture instances that — to them — match my own from yesteryear. They need to remember, this is my winter (or a very cold autumn).

The younger people also need to appreciate this decade is going to be remembered as the Snowflake Generation. It’s a time when people melt before your eyes with anything that slightly deviates from the clinical, politically correct handbook. Humour has been replaced with self-righteous application of impractical moral codes.

We all should respect one another. There should be fairness and equality for all. We shouldn’t stamp out any non-malicious viewpoint because of how it makes us feel. Comedy notoriously — and quite rightly — toes the line between offence and laughs. If you can’t laugh at something a comic says, it means you kinda have some intent when laughing along with other edgy jokes.

It’s also created a sub-culture of conditions. Everyone no has one. When I get depressed, I am depressed. It’s incredibly difficult to share that with anyone (99.9% of the time, I don’t). The “It’s okay not to be okay” campaigns have been great for raising mental awareness but over time they have been hijacked by those looking for the next fad.

The decade’s been so grim, people have been giving themselves faux conditions to be on trend.

That last remark will undoubtedly offend some people but it’s just my observation. It hasn’t been a collective time of improvement but one of whining. The Brexit situation comes to mind. People moaning about what is wrong rather than working to make it better (I’m aware of the irony this post represents here).

Big pressure on 2020 to step up to the plate. It’s got an uphill battle. 2019 left it in the shit. An impeached President, Boris Johnson the saviour of the British working class and Rod Stewart top of the album charts.

I remember Mad Dog 20/20. The idea of 2020 itself back then was futuristic; flavoured alcoholic drinks a little juvenile. The mad dogs are now here and everyone is necking more varieties of gin than a shelf of early alcopops could have ever dreamed up. 

Does this indicate a return to headier times? I’m going to buy some Hooch, just in case.