In June last year, I published a post titled I’m angry, and I’m going to stay angry.
At the time, the Partygate scandal was all over the news and lots of people in government were assuring us that no rules were broken and everything was fine. Even though that plainly wasn’t the case.
I wrote about my dad, and how the last time I'd seen him well was when pandemic relaxed in the summer of 2020. Restrictions were tightened at short notice at Christmas, and our planned visit to the south was cancelled. The parties continued at Downing Street, and the next time I saw my dad was in the ICU.
I cannot wait to vote. I cannot wait.
I’m going to vote with such spite and bile.
I’m going to break the lead in my little pencil, press an X through the paper and into the surface of the booth.
I, like most people I know, don't like being taken for a fool.
I felt silly for following the rules. Felt that stabbing echo of embarrassment every time one of our leaders squirmed out of something. That feeling you'd get when a group of kids at school suddenly turns on you. “You didn't actually do it, did you? We were just joking. How could you not know that?”
I like to follow rules. I like when other people follow them. My wife makes fun of me for it.
I like to follow rules because I think it’s important, because it’s how we share our space in the world, because it’s how we respect those around us.
I was angry at the time, I was angry last June as the inquiry went on, and I am still angry now.
I don't think I'll ever stop being angry.
Looking back with four years of distance, it's striking how my memories of that period in 2020.and into 2021 are half impending apocalypse and half relentless normality. Sure, there's a plague, but there's still emails to reply to and groceries to shop for.
With such mundanity did worlds end.
Over 227,000 people died in this country, each of them breaking other people's worlds when they did.
Humans don't change in a crisis, all it does is reveal who we really are.
Those who bent the rules. Those who made a buck. Those who passed one when it should have stopped with them.
That's who they are. That's who they'll always be.
If my memory starts to go and I start to forget, I will pin it to the noteboard, stick it to the fridge, tattoo it onto my skin - “GO VOTE”.
If I’m on my deathbed and it’s May and we’re going to the polls, you can take me and my heart monitor and my IV drips to whichever church hall or community centre or Portakabin I have to go to and I will cast my vote.
I will work hard, and I will pay my taxes, and I will follow the rules, and I will vote.
I vote because it's the main power I have.
I'm lucky enough to have met plenty of politicians, and I usually have something to say to them. Or else to have the opportunity to listen and understand.
But that feels ethereal. I'm tying knots in pieces of string, twisting and joining them together with other people tying and twisting theirs. Eventually you've got a length of rope you can pull on.
Voting feels muscular.
I cast in the morning, they count in the evening and, by the time the sun rises, things might have changed.
So, go vote tomorrow.
Dig out your ID, gather up your non-fussed relatives, and go.
Exercise your right.
Go before or after school and take the children with you, so that when their time comes they don't think twice.
Apathy is the chancer’s comrade.
Go in your droves to remind them you're watching, and that their behaviour is being noted.
Remind them you sent them there, and you can bring them back.
Vote because schools and roads are crumbling.
Vote because homes, trains and a half dozen eggs all cost too much.
Vote because waiting lists are too long and safety nets too frayed.
Just vote. Do it with glee.
In brief
My friend and former colleague Kay Wilson has a book out. It's a fiction inspired by her own life, about a woman who tries stand-up after a life changing event. You can read about it on Pattern, and the book is available on Amazon, link at the bottom of the article. Paperbacks are in stock at the Bound in Whitley Bay, Forum Books in Corbridge and the Accidental Bookshop in Alnwick.
If sustainability and business growth is your thing, then there's an event this Friday at Gateshead College. Zoe Maylam shared details with me, looks like a great line-up of speakers, and tickets are still available on Eventbrite.
The Northern Powerhouse Partnership have seen signs of productivity growth in the North. The North East has the third fastest rate of growth, up 15.3% since 2004. Northumberland and Tyne & Wear slightly out-perform Durham and the Tees Valley over that period. Thanks to Tom Kennedy for flagging this one.
Just 2.7% of publicly funded R&D in 2022 happened in the North East. ONS figures show over half happened in the Greater South East.
Normal-ish service next week…
…as we see what the first few days of the next government look like.
In the meantime, you can reach me on arlen@arlenpettitt.co.uk.
"Humans don't change in a crisis, all it does is reveal who we really are."
This is perfect.
The whole shitshow has continued for years and we now have young people voting who have never known a non-Tory government. It's a scary time, and one that's only exacerbated by the constant lies and fear mongering.
Lord knows what will happen tomorrow but hopefully people get out there and do their thing.
I’m still angry too Arlen.
Postal vote cast last week, so no need to listen to any more nonsense, or watch ex-Prime Ministers suddenly join their desperate campaign!