Coronavirus Crisis - End of the Phoney War

The phoney war and consensus in tackling the coronavirus appears to have ended.  The predictable stampede to signal virtue and cancel sporting events continued apace.  I read that the Government’s concern about large gatherings, at the moment at least, is not that they provide an opportunity for large-scale virus transmission but that they could tie up large numbers of emergency service personnel who could, potentially, be employed on more urgent public safety matters.  This seemed to be lost on football managers who fell over themselves in assuring us that our safety was their first priority.  Like the misanthropic manager of Watford Football Club, Nigel Pearson, who tried to demonstrate that he was not one to let the opportunity of a crisis pass him by.  Gazing awkwardly to the floor and avoiding eye contact with the camera, Pearson declared himself “underwhelmed” by the Prime Minister’s response to the crisis and that protecting people’s health was more important than his club’s relegation battle.  Pearson, I understand, prefers solitude and likes listening to Shostakovich on his own.  Despite his apparent relish for intellectual music, the irony of his use of the phrase to underwhelm would be lost on the shifty looking Pearson.  However, Pearson has certainly done his prospects of being included in Mushroom's Christmas Irritant List no harm at all - his remarks were seized upon by the Guardian which is a recommendation in itself.

Meantime, for a variety of motives, there have been several high-profile interventions to question Government policy of which the criticism by Jeremy Hunt, a former Health Secretary and rival to Boris for the Party leadership, was the most politically toxic and unforgivable.  The Times leader made it clear that it felt Britain’s approach conflicted with other countries and that this could have consequences for our relations with the rest of the world.  Labour, betraying that it had nothing to say, demanded the evidence so that they and the public could judge for themselves. On this point I am reminded of an apocryphal story from the time that the task force was sailing south to retake the Falkland Islands.  At the time the best intelligence to provide situational awareness for the task force Commander would have been distilled by the MOD Defence Intelligence Staff from a very secret source (which I signed in blood never to reveal).  Only a few specially cleared people would have been allowed to read the intelligence and the analysis itself may not have covered all the areas uppermost in the Commander’s list of concerns.  One could imagine the frustration of the Commander who rejected the refined assessment and demanded the raw data instead.  So the MOD turned on the data tap and, predictably, overwhelmed the interpretation resources on the task force.  Apparently, the tap had to be turned off and the flow of normal assessed intelligence resumed.  By the same token, one wonders what would be the point of revealing mountains of raw evidence and then holding a public debate on the policy recommended by the Chief Scientific and Medical Advisers  Someone ultimately, must take responsibility for policy and the Prime Minister appears to have done just that.  May I refer readers to the extended metaphor on Government decision making that Mushroom wrote in “Media Outraged at Boris’ Vow to Deliver Promises” on 16 Feb 20?

I walked from Mushroom Cottage to a nearby village to visit the butcher this morning.  On my way, a neighbour told me that his pension pot had been severely depleted and future business trips had been cancelled. He remarked that any plans for an early retirement had just been put on hold.  There will be many more similar difficulties, I fear. On the way back I called at the Post Office.  A photo-copied notice was displayed at the counter informing me that the Post Office viewed the current outbreak “extremely seriously.”  A perfect illustration of a virtue signal promising all assistance short of relevant help.  Better than saying they were entirely indifferent, I suppose, but I wonder how much the Post Office brand image manager was paid for that little masterpiece?