It is sometime suggested that the very rich should pay their
slice of the tax burden. That, in a society where people are able to make
stupidly large piles of cash, the contribution of those who benefit most should
be, equally, the biggest contribution.
This reasonable suggestion is often pursued by the squealing, petulant cries
that this is The Politics of Envy. Cries which can be heard all the way from
The Carlton Club to The Commons.
Gideon’s been at it again this morning, uttering the bizarre
statement that those who see their benefit-scrounging neighbours asleep, as
they themselves rise at the crack of sparrows and trudge off to a day's hard
work, should be treated fairly. What he means by this is that the sleeping neighbour
should be treated more harshly, and that this deceitful act of sophistry will
somehow make the world a sunnier, shinier place.
This is bizarre on many levels, not least because anyone who
sees their neighbours sleeping as they are work-bound is either a peeping tom,
shagging someone from next door, or has a neighbour passed-out on their front
lawn. Only one of those scenarios elicits even a slither of sympathy, and given
that the streets and avenues of England aren’t strewn with snoring, vagrant
slumberers, I can only assume that Gideon has the first two situations in
mind. I’d hate to live near him.
The real issue, though, isn’t that Mad George thinks that
people are shinnying up drainpipes to gaze in anger at the terminally, and
temporarily, unemployed – snugly wrapped in their beds of workshy
irresponsibility. The real issue is that
that the rich out-of-touch spoilt, sheltered, sniveling, social and economic human
failure masquerading a sentient being has decided to address the concerns of
these sinister, but employed, voyeurs, by pinning future benefit increases to
1%, well below inflation.
This is the real politics of envy. Because it makes not a jot of difference to anyone
if the out-of-work residents in my ‘hood are getting a rise of three pounds
weekly, or one pound a week. We won’t see
any of that money. The taxes we pay won’t decrease. Nurses won’t find the money
saved in their paychecks, nor teachers, nor the five-oh. The only effect is
that those who are already living at the shittest end of the stick of life will
be getting prodded with an even bigger, shittier stick. And those prodding the
stick will be getting bigger, pointier, goldier* sticks.
I’ve lived on the dole. In fact, I was brought up on it. It’s wretched. There’s just enough money to survive. The reason people on the dole stay
in bed late is because it costs nothing to be asleep, and nothing is pretty
much what you can afford. Besides, TV is
utter dross before midday, at which point it becomes just about tolerable. There’s
really no point in getting up early if you’re skint and unemployed. Let’s face
it, only the criminally insane, and criminally annoying, are keen to be up and
about at dawn on a day of no work.
Back to the whingers. There will also be those who peddle
the same miserable lies that everyone signing on has Sky, and a mobile phone, and
other such luxuries like shoes and a change of socks. I’d hazard a guess that anyone with Sky, in
receipt of benefit, isn't paying for that out of their benefit. In fact, I’d hazard an equal guess that there
are many illegal Sky sets kicking around the black market. And to anyone who wants to complain that
people are getting Sky for free while they have to pay a small fortune for it,
can I suggest you’re looking in the wrong direction. Rupert didn't look hungry last time I saw
him. He did, unfortunately, still look alive. Not short of a few spare pennies,
but still, sadly, not dead.**
It is a depressing
aspect of our society. There will always
be people who don’t work. Some will choose not to, some will have it thrust upon
them. Some will be born stinking rich
and not have to, but will instead find themselves the focus of seven pages of
The Mirror because they got knocked up and felt a bit queasy.
Just because there
are a handful of people who will take the piss, doesn't mean we collectively
punish to assuage our Daily Mail-fuelled belief that the poor of Britain are
actually sitting on bags of cash, drinking Cristal while watching Bargain Hunt on
their Plasma Teevs. It’s bollocks. The poor of Britain are generally having a miserable old time, and it’s getting shitter every day. A reverse Beatles, if you
will. ***
So, Gideon, stop picking on those too weak and weary to
fight back. Stop using a crane to crush a fly. Remember that you’re where you
are because your daddy racked up the dollars selling interior décor. If only he’d
had a grasp of social responsibility and made the contribution to society he
could have.
And had a vasectomy on reaching puberty.
*Neologism. Pedant.
*Dear Santa, with Christmas approaching, and your skillset
in breaking and entering, and leaving without a trace, I have a very particular
request…
*This one
