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A week later, I got a text from a very well-known young actor with a screenshot of a tweet of mine which read: ‘Every single human life is precious. The end.’ ‘Can you explain this to me?’ said the message. My phone rang; I picked it up and knew straight away that my friend and I were not alone on the call. I heard a quiet shushing, an awkward pause, the white noise on the line changed to speakerphone levels, the louder background and less intimate voice that give these things away.
In this progressive monoculture, with its zealous quest for faraway utopias, I committed a grave sin
‘Hey Loz… I want to really understand you… I mean… I defend you and as you know… I really love you… [You’re an actor, the only thing you love is the mirror, darling] but this… this is really hard…’
‘Which part of it?’ I said.
‘Can’t you see it’s just wrong?’ they said.
‘What?’ I said.
‘Loz…’ came the gently menacing reply. ‘How can I defend you, man? When you are saying shit like this?’
‘Shit like what?’ I said. ‘That every single human life is precious? Which part of that is problematic for you?’
‘It’s racist,’ came the reply.
Cue deep sigh. Let me say at this point that I firmly believe that most people take the BLM mission statement at face value and support it in kind. I’m aware that I am not black and have no concept of the lived experience of anyone other than myself.
Now where was I? Yes. I asked my ‘chum’ what they saw when they looked at the media coverage of this whole story. I asked whether they had heard of David Dorn (a retired policeman gunned down by a looter attempting to rob a pawn shop) once the rioting began, in the news. I asked whether they thought it was in any way significant that David Dorn (also a black life) had been murdered in cold blood, yet George Floyd’s senseless killing dominated every headline. I asked whether they thought it was significant that the man who gunned down David Dorn when caught would be charged with first-degree murder, and yet George Floyd’s killer would be tried for second-degree murder at best. I asked: was this fair? I asked whether the media might perhaps be complicit in fanning the flames of outrage? Whether George Floyd’s equally precious life was being used to serve other, more sinister objectives?
There was a silence. We ended the call frostily and haven’t spoken since.
My conclusion is that this tragic situation has become part of another narrative, a series of stories wound together to serve a broader societal aim. Righteous global outrage at a cruel and vile killing has morphed into a different agenda. Similar things have happened with other movements; #MeToo, Extinction Rebellion, Brexit, even the Covid-19 pandemic. The left rightly expose great chasms of inequality and hypocrisy in society — then proceed to throw themselves like lemmings into that void, unable to obey their own edicts. Desperately important causes have been politicised to the point of meaninglessness, opportunities for action hijacked swiftly by the cynical actors. No human being could fail to be appalled by what happened to George Floyd. We were united in our outrage. But what could have been a moment for unity has instead torn us apart.
All injustice needs our collective and righteous anger. But the pursuit of that justice should bring us together, not divide us. Not social justice, not climate justice, not black justice. Just justice.
We must start with what unites us, beginning with trying to see the best in people. Though some will exploit our good faith, we should offer it nevertheless. We must be aware of biased media, including our own state broadcaster the BBC. It has moved from the Jeremy Bowen-style ‘show not tell’ reportage of old, to one that describes protests that led to hospitalisations and mass arrests as ‘largely peaceful’. Some news suppliers have decided to relativise, and even encourage, angry mob tactics.
So here I am, a white posh bloke, who loves his job, who has worked hard to be good at it, facing an uncertain future — all for the heinous sin of shaking my fist at the ugly, hypocritical and inconsistent god of progressivism. But unhappily for some (my agent and bank manager mainly) I will continue to say what I believe to be true. I’m not always right and very often wrong, but unless we can accommodate multiple understandings of a situation soon, it will all end with us abandoning words and reason, the tools given to us to heal and come together, in favour of the simpler but far more terrifying tools of engagement: fists, knives and guns. It’s already happening, and we should all be concerned by it. We cannot stand by in silence. Words are the answer.
Because you read about black lives matter
Also by Laurence Fox
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