Decayed Decades?

This is shamelessly inspired by a KnowledgeHub video on YouTube, which nonetheless raises an interesting point which can be extended. I’ll summarise the argument of the video first, then move further.

KnowledgeHub’s view of decades is that they’re an exclusively twentieth Christian century phenomenon characterised by popular culture and consumerism, which began in earnest in the 1920s when a wide range of people began to have a fair bit of disposable income. Then there was the Depression, when nobody had any money again and therefore there was little consumerism. This was followed by the War, which dominated popular culture as can be seen, for instance, in military-inspired fashion and films such as ‘Casablanca’. This was followed by the Baby Boom and the return of disposable income which led to the advent of a decade often appealed to as some kind of ideal time, though not by all, and the rise of rock music and its associated youth culture. His thesis includes the notion that the decades also focus on the young. The boomers reached adolescence in the ’60s, with the rise of the counterculture, then in the ’70s, as some of them settled down and had children, a secondary boomer generation arose referred to as Generation X. This decade, the ’70s, was accompanied by an economic downturn and ended with the breakdown of the Postwar Consensus, followed by the ’80s, which once again involved people splashing cash around a lot and the evolution of production-line film making which targetted their audiences more precisely. Then in the ’90s a fragmentation began which meant there was a strong hindsight association mainly with grunge because this dominated the early part of the decade before this had begun. The fragmentation continued into the twenty-first century where experiences of popular culture became more individual due to the increasing ability to produce media oneself and successfully find works which were to one’s personal taste. In the meantime, the aftermath of 9/11 had a major influence. As for the 2010s, and here the decade is too recent for hindsight either to pin it down precisely or to caricature it, social media came to dominate and this had a more long-lasting influence and broadened appeal beyond youth. It also accelerated changing trends, which made it harder for particular movements in music and the like to be marketed effectively, so the media companies turned to nostalgia in order to cash in on older generations. This will work for a while, but the time will come when there’s nobody left to be nostalgic about anything because no-one will remember when decades had their distinctive atmospheres, and social media seem to be permanent.

That’s the summary of the thesis. Now I don’t want to turn this into a simple parroting of “wot that bloke sed in that video”, so I will broaden this out somewhat. I would say that from about the middle of the 2010s it felt like the future was becoming less predictable, to me at least, with for example the twin shocks of Brexit and Trump’s victory, both of which seemed to have similarities. Also, it’s instructive to look back into the nineteenth century, and perhaps further, to identify other trends, and to broaden this beyond popular culture into wider political and social happenings.

Looking back at the start of the twentieth century in what was then the British Empire, we have a period close to a decade which we refer to as the “Edwardian Era”. The use of the word “era” to refer to relatively short periods of time seems incongruous to me, possibly because I learnt it first from its geological application. The average length of the three eras of the Phanerozoic Eon is 180 million years, and even the short Cenozoic Era has lasted 66 million years so far. Historical eras are bound to be much shorter but I can’t help feeling the word is overused and refers to ever shorter periods of time. Then again, the eras of the early Universe were only supposed to last tiny fractions of a second, so maybe not. However, maybe it makes sense for the word to do this due to accelerating change. Nonetheless, the “Edwardian Era” was only nine years long, and over a century ago, making it difficult to fit into this tendency. It really amounts to an oddly-labelled decade, more or less, and brings to mind the preceding sixty-four years of the Victorian Era, again in the Empire as opposed to elsewhere in the world. However, preceding the Edwardian Era was the “Gay Nineties”, also apparently known as the “Naughty Nineties”, although I only know the former term, and which even now is associated in my mind with ‘Ta-Ra-Ra-Boom-De-Ay’, from 1891. The 1890s were also known as the “Mauve Decade” because of the invention and use of aniline dye by Henry Perkin in 1856 at the age of eighteen when he was trying to synthesise quinine. It’s notable that it took over three decades to become trendy. Maybe that was just the pace of things at the time.

The trigger is said to be the Second Industrial Revolution, which was the development of a second wave of innovations following on from the first phase, which had plateaued a few decades earlier. It was underway roughly from 1870 to 1890 and involved improvements in agricultural productivity, rail travel, the invention of the internal combustion engine and the telephone and these and other events all worked together to improve potential standards of living. The record player was invented in the 1870s and cinematography in the 1890s, and these two alone would go on to have major influences on popular culture. The aforementioned aniline dyes are part of this too. However, it took a while after these inventions for them to be widely used and penetrate society. Cinema, for example, although a major influence eventually, would have begun as a mere curiosity, and you can easily imagine people saying sound recording and films would be a flash in the pan and never catch on.

In terms of design, one early influence which can be identified easily is the Arts And Crafts movement. This was a reaction against industrialisation and mass production and lauded the artisan, and was of course led by William Morris. It led to the Edwardian Art Nouveau, and could also be understood as a “back to nature” movement. William Morris’s own ‘News From Nowhere’, published in 1890, espouses libertarian socialism in response to Bellamy’s more state-oriented vision as expressed in ‘Looking Backward’. It’s interesting that the advent of consumer culture was preceded by this very different version of how things might be, and it’s conceivable that everything that happened afterwards has an element of “bread and circuses” about it. Nonetheless, like most other people I do feel an emotional attachment and strong interest in popular culture.

I can certainly see that the apparent acceleration of change would “shrink” the decades. The Arts And Crafts Movement was a reaction to the kind of trends which were epitomised by the Great Exhibition of 1851, and continued until at least the 1890s. If Art Nouveau is seen as part of it, it lasted even longer and in other parts of the world it was still current in the 1920s. This is seven decades, an entire lifetime for many at the time. The gradual infiltration of recorded sound and cinema into popular culture also took several decades, and the advent of radio was significant. It’s also interesting to note that in the US, the hit parade precedes ours by a decade and a half, beginning in January 1936. Here in Britain it began in November 1952, which precedes rock and roll, and that genre of music is a response to the creation of the charts themselves. I’m not sure when the charts ceased to have much real meaning because I’m old, but I would say it was after the Spice Girls, which rather neatly places it near the end of the twentieth century. This in itself could be seen as a barometer for the times because the advent of MP3 downloads and YouTube probably did for them in terms of them having much significance. I remember in the mid-‘noughties not realising that Dido’s ‘White Flag’ was at number one and getting the erroneous impression that I’d “discovered” it. Apparently that was in September 2003, so that fragmentation does seem to date it to around the end of the century and the consequences of widespread online access and always on internet connections.

If accelerating change, which has been a tendency probably for centuries now if not longer, destroys decades, this suggests there would’ve been a point at which the rate of change matched the decade perfectly, although oddly it might have been an instantaneous inflection on a curve. This would mean that there would be a most “decady” decade at some point, and I have a feeling this was the 1960s although I’m not sure. This would then presumably mean that the 1970s would show a more notable change of Zeitgeist between the early and late halves. It also means that my preferred division of dating into twelve-year cycles would place the most “cyclical” cycle slightly earlier, unless there’s a psychological and marketing influence on what a decade is. I also wonder if the growing awareness of a vast interval of time in the new millennium influenced us to think more in the long term, or perhaps simply to lose track, and the difficulty in referring to what I call the ‘noughties but others call the 2000s, which is more ambiguous, might lead to a kind of vagueness about the “Decade That Dare Not Speak Its Name”. Then we have the issue of thinking of our own lives as having teenage years, and we then have a shorter stretch of time we might call the “‘teens” from 2013 to 2019.

Using the dozen-year division based on the duodecimal system could have the effect of slicing time up into slightly larger sections which might reveal the influence of marketing. The gross of years which ended half-a-dozen years back in 2016 began in 1872 if we stick to the round numbers rather than use the “+1” approach of naming centuries, and in fact decades don’t match centuries perfectly either because although 2000 is the last year of the twentieth century, it’s also the first year of the ‘noughties. The twelve-year intervals are then: 1872, 1884, 1896, 1908, 1920, 1932, 1944, 1956, 1968, 1980, 1992 and 2004. Doing this extends the period back to before decades really becoming a “thing” and perhaps out the other side to when they stopped having much meaning. This list of numbers also reminds me of the feeling that there is always a year in a decade which seems to epitomise it, and that oddly that year rarely ends in a 5. There’s 1933, 1945, 1955, 1968, 1977, 1984 and 1999. This might just be me of course, but I can make an argument for the focus on 1984, as stimulated by Orwell, and the protests of the ’60s peaking in 1968. Two of those numbers also coincide with the start of decades. The span from 1980 to 1992 is bounded by the year Reagan was elected and the year John Major was returned to Parliament by the “Shy Tories”, which perhaps describes a trajectory beginning with proud support for what was seen as freedom, reaching a crescendo with the “greed is good” rhetoric and then becoming something people were quite ashamed of but still quietly supported. This takes it somewhat away from popular culture.

There is another way of looking at decades as somewhat shorn of the movies, fashion, music and the like associated with them, although of course these things form an organic whole and can’t be entirely separated. This is in terms of time periods when particular historical events and social changes occurred. Going way back, the fourteenth century was a period of crisis for Mediæval Europe which can fairly easily be regimented into shorter intervals. The 1310s were characterised by poor weather for farming, crop failures and severe famines, and this seems to have led directly to generally poor health and particular susceptibility to the Black Death in the 1340s and ´50s. A couple of centuries earlier, the Crusades marked a particular episodic pattern which would have made the 1090s, 1140s, 1190s, 12000s and 1210s quite distinctive, particularly involving young men and in the last case children, who were sold into slavery. More recently, the English Civil War and Commonwealth period and the Regency spring to mind, covering the 1640s, 1650s and 1810s. The reign of Edward VII is closely identified with a particular decade, suggesting that the monarch used to be considered as bestowing a particular character on a period, though not a decade. This would enable the times of the following sovereigns to be identified with decades: Ælfred (890s), William Rufus (1090s), Richard the Lionheart (1190s – closely associated with a Crusade), Henry IV (1410s), Edward IV (1460s), William and Mary (1690s), George IV (1820s) and of course Edward VII (1900s). These are just coincidences of course but they do lend particular decades a certain distinctive character. Altogether there are fourteen of these including the famine and Plague examples, but social change was very slow most of the time before the Industrial Revolution.

An argument exists that technological change is slowing down, because the differences made to lifestyle from 1920 to 1970 were much larger than from 1970 onwards. Such a deceleration might be expected to “kill” the idea of distinctive decades by extending the period over which changes are likely to have an impact. Moore’s Law contradicts this, but seems to have ceased to operate. It’s also been suggested that mobile devices have reached some kind of peak beyond which it isn’t necessary to go any further, or rather, that new capabilities would probably not be popular but would be more likely to be perceived long-term as gimmicks or just not worth paying for. Televisions have also reached the stage where increasing resolution will make no difference to picture quality because the angular diameter of individual pixels at a sensible viewing distance is now smaller than the resolution of human colour vision (human monochrome vision is lower resolution anyway). All that said, it often seems to the people living in a particular time that they are ultra-modern and no more innovation is possible except the apparent fads which end up changing the world.

What if there’s a combination of increasing and decreasing rate of change though? Pure deceleration of change might be expected to lead to homogenised decades. This would be a bit like the unifying effect ‘Andy Pandy’ might have on our childhood memories, as only twenty-six episodes were made and it was then repeated in a cycle between 1950 and 1970, and continued to be shown until 1976, but across the board. Maybe twenty-year or quarter-century periods would then become more important. On the other hand, trends and fads are now so short and fragmented that they are much briefer in nature. Is it perhaps that we no longer notice the big picture because the little details and the short term have become more attention-grabbing? Certainly we have less in the way of unifying experience, although the pandemic probably is one.

Maybe, then, what’s happening is that we no longer have popular culture-based flavours of decade, but we still have social and historical change-based decades. I wonder also if the changes were partly fuelled by baby boomers and the events leading up to them. The roaring twenties were a time when it was genuinely believed there would never be another recession. This came crashing down at the end of that decade, leading to the exploitation of hard times by fascists and Nazis, and through them the Second World War. This chain of events easily gave the ’20s, ’30s and ’40s their own characters. Then came the baby boom, and with it an attempt to put the genie of women in the workplace back in the lamp by encouraging domesticity, leading to the combined ’50s boom in teenage culture and rock and roll along with the “cosy” feel attributed by some to that decade. Then, in the 1960s, the boomers were teenagers and young adults and the acme of the attitudes of the young became manifest. Towards the end of that decade, the boomers had children of their own, ensuring a future of a second boom with further significant consequences. The ’70s were like a hangover as the ideals of the ’60s turned out not to work, and the ’80s marked the Generation X children of the boomers reaching adulthood, although this was more smeared out because people don’t all have children at the same age. In the ’90s, Gen-Xers were kind of settling down, to the extent that we could, and we had the even more diffusely distributed Millenials and Gen-Zers. In the meantime, people all have to cope with an ageing population, leading to resentment of the boomers and perhaps a reduction in disposable income. So ultimately, maybe one thing that’s happening is that the effects of the Second World War on the ages of the population are just getting more diffuse, leading to a return to the situation which existed before, where there was childhood and then adultood, due to a more even range in ages in the population.

I don’t know. Are the decades over? Why or why not? What do you think?

“Is That A Inverted Gravimetric Universe Or A Temporal Neomorphic Universe?”

Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=2120652

H2G2 casts a long shadow. Any radio science fiction comedy is bound to draw comparisons with it, and even more so if it’s on Radio 4. To some extent, the same problem exists on BBC television, where SF comedy is likely to be compared to ‘Red Dwarf’. This happened with the rather obscure ‘Hyperdrive’ with Miranda Hart, Nick Frost and Kevin Eldon, which ran for only two series. It wasn’t wonderful to be sure, but it was absolutely not a rip-off of ‘Red Dwarf’. It was ‘The Navy Lark’ in space. That series, of which I was never a fan but you know, it was okay, was probably unknown or forgotten by 2005 but is so much more similar to ‘Hyperdrive’ than ‘Red Dwarf’, and if people had known about that and resisted the urge to draw comparisons with the most prominent space comedy, I’m sure it would’ve been perceived much more positively.

There have been quite a few Radio 4 SF comedies since 1980, and H2G2 is rather like the Beatles in that it defined a genre and cannot be successfully imitated without being seen as derivative. What, then, do you do if you want to write a series of this kind? It has to be completely different from Douglas Adams’s work, and probably use a different kind of humour, and this is very restrictive. However, restriction is a wonderful spur to creativity and originality if you can dislodge your focus sufficiently on what you’re trying not to write. I would say Tony Bagley’s ‘Married’ has successfully escaped from Mr Different Adams’s fierce gravitational pull and managed to write something pretty fresh. I mean, he did it over twenty years ago now but it’s still good.

The premise of ‘Married’ (SPOILERS) is that steadfastly single and misanthropist architect Robin Lightfoot wakes up one morning to find himself in a parallel universe where he’s married with children and works at a greetings card company, and absolutely hates his new life. Meanwhile, his counterpart in the parallel universe has entered this one and proceeds to trash his life, since he too is misanthropic but considerably more actively antisocial and abusive. The series becomes increasingly surreal and science-fictiony as it proceeds until the existence of the entire Multiverse is threatened and the fabric of reality breaks down. Robin finds a solution in the final episode, but it isn’t clear if the Multiverse is saved.

Robin is played by Hugh Bonneville, cast somewhat against type. Arthur Smith is another central character, who plays himself, and Julian Clary makes a guest appearance. Many people who exist in this universe also exist in the other, but often have different life histories. It gently breaks the fourth wall a number of times. The only person with an initial grasp on the situation is his son, who reads a lot of graphic novels and is therefore savvy about parallel universes. In a sublime piece of technobabble, he explains to Robin that there are two types of parallel universe, Inverted Gravimetric and Temporal Neomorphic. It’s never at all clear what these are but they sound marvellous.

Although the drama centres, initially at least, on the interaction between the characters, the background is also intriguing. Much of it is based on the humour of rôle reversal. Tony Blair is leader of the Conservative Party. Environmentalists are campaigning for the legalisation of genetically-modified organisms and the use of organophosphate pesticides. Most people believe Francis Bacon wrote the plays usually attributed to Shakespeare. Jimmi Hendrix is a middle-of-the-road radio disc jockey. ‘The Guardian’ is a tabloid and has a porn page but ‘The Sun’ is a quality newspaper. There were eighteen years of Labour rule up to 1997, when the Liberal Democrats achieved power, led by Richard Branson, who is now Prime Minister. Alcohol is a Class A drug but you can buy Cannabis over the counter in Boots. There is no Sunday trading. Surrey is a deprived area but the northeast of England is affluent.

The humour is not confined to reversals. Fashion is how it was in the early 1970s, with kipper ties and flares. Richard Whiteley did something nebulous but awesome in the “Fuel Crisis of ’89” which has made him a universally-loved national hero and there are statues in his honour. Margaret Thatcher died in 1978. The death penalty is not only still in place but fast-tracked without appeal to avoid causing prolonged suffering to the perpetrator. Edward VIII didn’t abdicate and was replaced by Richard IV and then John II, who leaves his wife and comes out as gay, marrying his lover Adrian. He is of course played by Julian Clary. Janis Joplin is still alive. There’s no Marks & Spencers but instead there’s a Marks, Bruce & Willis. There’s a Channel 6. Radio 4 is called Radio 1 and there’s also a Radio 4 Live. The Today programme doesn’t exist. Nicholas Parsons presents a radio panel game called ‘The Transport Quiz’, which seems to be a reference to Mornington Crescent and ‘Just A Minute’. Kingsley and then Martin Amis read the Shipping Forecast. The Titanic wasn’t hit by an iceberg but was torpedoed in 1940. There are numerous other examples, all mainly for the sake of humour. They don’t particularly feel like they go that deep but they are fun.

I’m stuck with my usual quandary here of not knowing how well-known this is. I first came across it when its final episode was broadcast some time in the ‘noughties, and remarkably, if you know the ending, I seem to remember being in the bath at the time. This makes me wonder about false memories. I didn’t catch up with the whole series until about 2007.

Most of all, I wonder about the model of the Multiverse being used in the series. The real answer is “whatever makes the listeners laugh” of course, but those two terms, “inverted gravimetric” and “temporal neomorphic” have a real ring to them. Swapping the first words of each gets you “temporal gravimetric” and “inverted neomorphic”. The former is a real phrase, often used to refer to the measurement of subterranean water and its fluctuation. Temporal gravimetry is the measure of mass changes through time, so it is an actual thing but nothing to do with parallel universes. Inverted gravimetry is no closer. Neomorphism is to do with metamorphic change in rocks and is also a variety of gene mutation where a newly formed gene becomes manifest immediately rather than being masked or inactive.

These parallel universes are more like the “mirror Universe” of ‘Star Trek’ than the bog-standard “choose a pivotal point in history and change it” approach of alternate timelines. Like the Mirror Universe, the same people tend to exist in various universes, so they can’t be based on events which prevent people from existing or cause people to come into existence. They’re interdependent. Ultimately this becomes apparent in other ways, and it raises the question of whether the only kind of parallel universe is one which deviates in connection with events occurring within it. David Lewis’s idea of modal realism is easily confused with the idea of alternate timelines and quantum-related universe variations, but could in fact be an entirely different beast. We talk as if things could be other than they are. We say “if I were you, I wouldn’t do that” for example, but in fact that isn’t true because someone cannot be someone else and they just would act in that way. There is also the issue of paradoxes of material implication. Material implication is usually understood to mean “if P then Q”, but in fact it means “not both P and not-Q”, which lacks the kind of “direction” implication normally implies, and it means that there are peculiar situations where, to quote Wikipedia, it would be true to say that if the Nazis had won the Second World War, everyone would be happy, because if something is false, it being true can imply everything, and if sonething is true, anything can imply it. The idea behind material implication is to make it impossible to move from true premises to false conclusions, meaning that truth implying falsehood is always false.

But a different history may not be the only way in which a world can be different. An alternate universe might be just one which is located elsewhere but exists in the same way as this one does, with nothing else in common except what must be so for it to exist meaningfully as a universe. This could mean being observed in some way, or at least having its existence deducible from something observable. Maybe this kind of multiverse is like a cluster of mushrooms whose stalks sprout from their Big Bangs and become mature as caps, but multidimensionally.

Robin describes the multiverse as like a loo roll. Each universe is a single sheet of paper, separated from its neighbours but also coiled up tightly, so that you could enter another universe on either side by travelling a long way and finding a portal, which is the paper between the perforations limiting the sheets, or, much more easily, you could move towards and away from the centre and enter a neighbour much more easily, since the other universes in those directions are but a whisker away, as thin as a single sheet of toilet paper or even less. Just as accidents can occur where you accidentally poke your finger through the paper, or the roll gets wet and water wets adjacent sheets and their contents might bleed through (assume it’s monogrammed toilet paper) like ink soaking through successive sheets, so can there be bleeding through or accidental penetrations into other universes, but because they’re “rolled up”, it’s easier to enter a universe five universes away or a different number, than it is to enter any of the neighbours in other directions. Isaac Asimov explored this idea in his ‘Cosmic Corkscrew’, a completely lost and unpublished story written in 1931 where a man discovers it’s possible to move forward or backward in time by a set interval because time is like the coils of a slinky, and on travelling forward a single loop of the coil, say a week, he finds the world has ended, and is unable to convince anyone on returning to his present and ends up in a mental hospital. There is of course absolutely no scientific evidence for this but it isn’t ruled out. There’s just no reason for supposing it to be the case. It does work quite well as a model though – it’s coherent. It’s easy to imagine each universe consisting of time and space, and then there being extra dimensions which link them together in different ways, so there are not only portals to adjacent universes separated by gigaparsecs but also extra dimensions in which other universes it would otherwise take countless æons to reach are only a hairsbreadth away, if only we could find our multidimensional equivalent of an inconvenient finger poke or splash of water.

Maybe. But what does “maybe” mean here? Using possible world semantics, “maybe” means “true in some possible worlds”. In other words it’s a bold statement that there are universes where this has been done, that there are bridges between universes which have either arisen spontaneously, through accidents or have been made on purpose. It can become very difficult to talk clearly about parallel universes because language like “possibly”, “probably”, “perhaps” and so forth then become references to places where this is actually so. “Probably” means “true in most possible worlds” for example, but if there are an infinite number of them, how can the majority of worlds contain such a situation? The ones in which the state of affairs doesn’t hold could also be infinite, so how is that a majority?

There are two very implausible things which never seem to get ruled out in spite of the difficulty in accepting how they are reasonable things to expect. One of them is travel backwards in time, and the other is parallel universes. In spite of the “cat among the pigeons” effect them being true would have on science, it remains unfeasible to rule either of them out.

That’s all.

11A0 – 11B0

One of the drawbacks of the Unicode system is that it lacks proper duodecimal symbols. Hence rather than using unambiguous dozenal symbols, of which there are various forms, none of which I can type here, I’ve resorted to using A and B to represent ten and eleven. When I first thought about writing this post, it was going to be about the 1990s CE, but since I am fairly committed to duodecimal it’s instead about the years 1992 to 2004. At the start of this cycle (which is what I call the analogue to decades in duodecimal, after “A Cycle Of Cathay”), I was two dozen and obviously at the end I was three dozen, so it covers what might be regarded as the first cycle of my adult life. Almost equivalent to a Jovian year in fact. The brain is said to stop growing at the age of two dozen, so that could be said to mark the beginning of adulthood. It’s sometimes informative to shake up the way we measure space and time to see if it brings any new insights.

One insight this brings is the tendency for most of the world to think in terms of decades, centuries and millennia, because those bits of rhetoric and marketing, for example, and the psychological divisions created by nice, neat round numbers in our lives and history, will tend to be at odds with this method of reckoning ages and dates. There will appear to be a sudden flurry of activity around 11A8 which represents Y2K and the turn of the Millennium which looks quite distinct and perhaps a bit odd from a duodecimal perspective. Had we been working to a different base, and let’s face it it probably would’ve been octal or hexadecimal rather than duodecimal because of how digital computers represent integers, the year 2000 would’ve been 3720 or 7C0, both round numbers to be sure but not epoch-making ones.

While I’m on the subject of Y2K, this was one significant concern during the 11A0s. However, in some ways it was also a decidedly odd one. Whereas it made sense that various mainframes would be grinding through two-digit representations of the year in that way, programmers of yore having opted to save storage space back in the 1170s and 1180s because they expected the year 11A8 to be the realm of science fiction, hover cars and holidays on Cynthia, Microsoft didn’t have the same excuse because DOS had stored the year as a value starting from 4th January 1980₁₀ which would not have gone round the clock on 1st January 11A8 at all, and for some reason it was a problem they had actually introduced with Windows when it became an operating system rather than a front end quite a bit closer to the crucial date. I have no idea why they did this but it seems irrational.

There is an æsthetic based on this period, or the latter half of it at least, characterised by futurism, optimism and shiny, liquid and spherical 3-D CGI. It was the cycle the internet went mainstream, and up until 9/11 there seemed to be a distinct atmosphere of optimism about the future. It may have been ephemeral and vapid, but it was there. And this is where I have some sympathy, though not agreement, with the conspiracy theories built up around the Twin Towers. I can’t remember the minutiæ of their content and it may have been rather dissimilar to my view, but the parsimonious, Ockham’s Razor-style approach to be taken to this is to assert that building up the War On Terror around the incident made it very convenient for the military-industrial complex. It would be going too far to assert anything else, or to insert “suspiciously” into that, and in fact to do so would distract from the situation we need to confront: that it led to the situation where the idea of making life better for people was discarded for a fatuous agenda of protecting the public from violence committed by non-state actors, without regard for the cause of these acts or how to prevent them by changing social conditions, or comparing the number of people killed with the number killed in the countries concerned by the NATO powers. Subjectively, it was like they just couldn’t let us be hopeful or look forward to a better future. Oh no. They had to crap on our dreams instead.

But the dreams were in any case nebulous. In this country they were, for me, associated with the fairly mournful and small expectation that New Labour had been lying about being right wing extremists. That government also entered into an illegal war on the back of 9/11. Even so, on the day after the election in May 11A5 people were smiling at each other in the street because we thought the dozen and a half year long nightmare was finally over. For me, much of the time was very positive, because in that period we got married and had our two children, but this isn’t meant to be personal. In contradiction to that, it was also when I got heavily involved in home ed, trained, qualified and started to practice as a herbalist.

This was also the cycle when the internet became the Web. This actually started with the World Wide Web browser in 119A, Tim Berners-Lee’s invention of course, but even when I started using it at home in 11A7 there was still quite a presence in the form of the likes of Usenet, FTP sites and so on. At the time, this seemed like an entirely positive resource although I had reservations about inequality of access in the global South which led me to doubt the wisdom of allowing myself the privilege. It was also very expensive in terms of bytes per pound compared to today. What was definitely absent at the time was the strong influence of social media. There’s a sense in which social media have existed since the 1170s in the form of PLATO at the University of Illinois, and behaviour on bulletin boards was quite like that, but the scale on which it happened was very small compared to the world’s population. Classmates is a possible instance of the earliest social media website although there are various contenders: this one dates from 11A3. In another area of IT telecommunications, mobile ‘phones started to take off and as an afterthought, texting was included. This became very significant during the 11A0s and mobiles moved from being yuppie devices to must-haves. I actually still haven’t adjusted to this, to the annoyance of my immediate family, so in a sense to me the revolution afforded by mobile devices hasn’t happened in the same way. On the whole, I don’t think this is a bad thing.

Things were a lot more analogue back then. Video cassettes and laser discs, the latter very obscure to most people, were the only way to watch things on TV other than actual live-broadcast television itself. However, digital optical discs had existed since before the beginning of the cycle. This is a pattern, not particularly distinctive of the ‘A0s, that the technologies which were later to transform society already existed but had not been widely adopted. However, I don’t want this to turn into a mere consumerist survey of high-tech products, so I’ll go all the way back to the “End Of History”.

In 11A0, Francis Fukuyama claimed in his book of the same name that history had ended. What he meant by this was not that events would cease to occur but that liberal democracy had proved itself to be the best form of government and that it would in the long term become increasingly prevalent. This is an overwhelmingly depressing and perhaps smug position, and in fact I don’t think it even makes sense. The problem with the idea that liberal democracy will triumph is that the parties involved in such governments would ideally aim for something other than liberal democracy, such as fascism or socialism or something less extreme, and proper politics without those aims is impossible. Fukuyama’s view of “democracy” would be anything but, because it would involve bland, practically identical political parties which did nothing to change the status quo, and that isn’t democracy, whether you’re right wing, left wing or something else. It’s also proved not to be so since in any case, since nationalism, conservative religion and various forms of authoritarianism have become more influential since then. Now I have to admit that I haven’t read his book, but the ideas are around in public discourse. This is related to the blandification of the Labour Party during this period. People didn’t seem to want to vote for something which was actually good.

One of the most shocking things for British progressives over this period was the Conservative victory in 11A0. It was widely believed that Labour would win the election that year, and even exit polls strongly suggested a Labour majority. Instead, the Tories received a record-breaking number of votes. Following on my experience in the previous year where I became utterly disgusted with popular support for the first Gulf War, I just got really angry with English people in general at their dishonesty and cowardice. They hadn’t admitted that they were voting for the “nasty party” because they were ashamed, so on some level they either recognised it was wrong or that they wouldn’t be able to convince people that it was the right thing to do. This was probably the first time I experienced the peculiar nightmarish quality of a traumatically negative electoral or referendum result coming in on the radio overnight, which was to be repeated several times until the Trump and Brexit results. It also made the relatively progressive years between 1161 and 118B look like a blip in history when things were getting better for the common people, but the idea of doing that was now consigned to history.

All of that sounds quite depressing. However, it isn’t the whole story. The beginning of the cycle had been a time of awakening consciousness for many people, with Acid House and Ecstasy becoming important. I didn’t partake myself although the end of the previous cycle had involved a lot of dancing and clubbing. It felt like there was going to be some kind of conceptual breakthrough, although it had also been observed that the use of psychedelic drugs like LSD at that time was more like wanting a picture show than a fundamental shift in consciousness. I can’t comment from an informed position on that, but it seems to me that they have such a profound influence on the mind that even if people went into it with that in mind, they would still come out profoundly changed. Of course, the government either didn’t like this or decided to capitalise on some mythical “Middle England” by introducing the Criminal Justice Bill with its notorious “succession of repetitive beats” clause, and a number of other measures such as the end to the right to silence. This was in 11A2. It also clamped down on squatters, hunt sabbers and anti-roads protests. Another quote from the government at about this time was something like “we don’t want to go down in history as the government which allowed any kind of alternative society to survive”, which had a flavour of genocide about it. Also, in order for that to work, society as it was would need to have some kind of appeal to it and not be bent on the destruction of the planet.

In many ways, then, this period was one of contradictions. The establishment was heavily asserting itself in academia, which made me wonder about complacency in that area. This was just after I’d dropped out of an academic career in disgust at Nick Land’s and other people’s response to neoliberalism as almost something to be enjoyed, and feminist hostility to animal liberation. It occurs to me now that I might have stayed to defend progressive opinion and movements, and after that disillusionment I became rather aimless and cynical. But on the other hand, it was also a cycle of hope and optimism, with the expectation that progress could be made in other ways. And it wasn’t all negative. Nelson Mandela became president of South Africa, Germany reunified (this is a mixed bag of course but it meant the reunification of communities too), there was the Good Friday Agreement (again a mix because it seemed to mean giving up hope of a reunified Ireland), the re-establishment of the Scottish Parliament and the establishment of the Welsh Assembly, and on reflection the real flavour of that period was a strange mix of hope and despair. Hope seemed to be sustained through lack of political analysis and despair emerged on close examination of events, but that doesn’t invalidate the more positive side. I suppose the real question is, how can we extend the principle of hope, as Ernst Bloch put it, from this superficial shiny façade into something more profound which transmutes political action into something valuable?