If you think that the free speech-v-cancel culture tension has already been pushed to its limits in the UK over the past year, you probably haven’t heard of 40 Days for Life.
The campaign to pray for an end to abortion throughout the period of Lent reached its peak this weekend, drawing Christians across the country together around one of the most significant and controversial issues of our time. One in four women in the UK will experience abortion in their lives. Pro-life groups have worked to make abortions unnecessary by giving women support to keep their children, even up until the last moment of their decision. With such efforts come debate. And with debate comes the difficulty of democracy.
Already, certain local councils such as in Ealing and Richmond in London have caved to activist pressure to ban “pro-lifers” from expressing their views in public, specifically in 150m zones around abortion facilities. Last month, the Northern Ireland Assembly voted to implement a similar censorship zone around all abortion facilities across their country. A similar private member’s bill is in consultation in Holyrood, with MSPs tweeting zealously this weekend about the need to censor pro-lifers.
These so-called “buffer zones” are well-intentioned. Campaigners claim that the pro-lifers “harass” women arriving for appointments. Harassing anyone, particularly vulnerable women, would be deeply wrong and hypocritical of a group claiming to offer help.
But if the volunteers were to engage in harassment, we can rest assured that it is already illegal and would be prosecuted.
In reality, a 2018 review from the UK Home Office found that any instances of harassment were rare outliers, and that the police already had sufficient powers to tackle unlawful conduct.
And so, it’s unsurprising that across the UK, we have seen ideologically-motivated attempts to end “pro-life” activities repeatedly refused by the courts. Take the 2018 court judgment against Nottingham City Council that their injunction against a pro-life campaigner ‘simply could not be justified.’ Take the overturned charges against Brighton campaigner Andrew Stephenson in 2011, and indeed the successful lawsuit brought against the police for his unlawful arrest. Take Southwark Council openly admitting they simply don’t have sufficient evidence to create a buffer zone against pro-life charities, despite the tenacious demands of the Council’s members.
In fact, various women who have received wanted help from the groups to keep their children, right before their abortion appointments, have even spoken out in support of allowing the groups to offer their services to others in need.
And why not keep all options open? New polling from the BBC shows that more than one in ten women have felt “coerced” into having an abortion. Even if not talked into it by partners or “friends”, many women feel they have no option but abortion because of social or economic pressures. Why prevent them of hearing about offers to resolve these pressures?
Where Ealing and Richmond have already implemented “buffer zones”, even silent prayer is now illegal. How they’ll ever be “caught” is anyone’s guess. But refusal to pay a fine for the thoughtcrime can lead to prosecution.
Free speech is both hardest and most important to support when you’re hearing something that you disagree with. For those that support abortion, that means allowing others to voice their concerns and offer alternative options. There’s no point supporting free speech for a popular cause, but not a minority view. And furthermore, refusing to let the vulnerable women considering abortion hear about alternative options available to them is surely detrimentally patronising – all for the sake of an ideological “win”. There is comfort in the discomfort of democracy. We all have a right to be a part of the public conversation, and might just benefit from hearing out those who see things differently.
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History Module From Hell
The modern English are a deracinated people. They know nothing of their great artists, poets and writers but most importantly, they’ve been uprooted from their history. History is a socially adhesive force, binding the dead to the living and those yet unborn with the unending assault on our culture and customs over the last 60-70 years having its intended outcome – a docile mass of atomised consumers.
The modern English care nothing for Elgar’s marches or the works of Shakespeare. Instead, they prefer instantaneous access to subscription-based services like Netflix and Spotify, where they can fry what remains of their brain circuitry watching Lizzo twerking her fat arse. Ask an English teenager “Who was Admiral Nelson?” and more likely than not they’d reply with something about a Multi-Car insurance policy rather than the Battle of Trafalgar. Joking aside, our material opulence and abject lack of transcendental belief has exacerbated this totalising apathy and ignorance. Moderns only care for the evisceration of their attention spans by short-term dopamine-driven feedback loops and satiating their basest desires. The average Zoomer can’t watch a video about the war in Ukraine without a pretty Tiktok girl dancing along to it – it would demand too much of their concentration capacity. This stark reality begs the question: can Zoomers and their coming generational successors focus long enough to read about their history? The answer of course is no – so it matters what they’re taught.
Modern Curricula
Upon leaving my secondary school after my A-Levels, I had the pleasure of being in a class with a militant communist who draped our Sixth Form building with a flag of the USSR on leaving day. This same individual was successful in petitioning our school to include a module on the history of migration throughout British history a few years after leaving. This module, ‘Migrants in Britain, c800-present’, is run by the Edexcel exam board for GCSE students and it is as insidious and subversive as it sounds. The goal of the course is to present a narrative that England and Britain have always been cornucopias of ethnic diversity, that ‘migration’ has been an ever-present facet of English society, and that, just like the United States, we really are a ‘nation of immigrants’.
A brief specification outline for this module is as follows:
• c800–c1500: Migration in medieval England
o The experience and impact of migrants
o Case study: the city of York under the Vikings
• c1500–c1700: Migration in early modern England
o Case study: Sandwich and Canterbury in the 16th century, and Huguenots in 17th-century England
• c1700–c1900: Migration in eighteenth- and nineteenth-century Britaino Case study: Liverpool in the 19th century, and the experience of Jewish migrants in the East End of London in the late nineteenth century
• c1900–present: Migration in modern Britain
o Political changes: the creation of the BUF and the BNP; laws to restrict immigration; laws to establish equality for migrants.o Case study: Bristol in the mid-twentieth century, and the experience of Asian migrants in Leicester from 1945
o Social attitudes: the hostility of far-right groups; Enoch Powell’s ‘Rivers of Blood’ speech; attacks on Jews, e.g. Battle of Cable Street, 1936, race riots in 1981 and Burnley, 2001.
To be succinct, I shall tackle two of these subsections: ‘c800–c1500: Migration in medieval England’ and ‘c1900–present: Migration in modern Britain’.
Migration in Medieval England
It’s 867AD, and Viking ‘migrants’ are peacefully integrating into the city of York; they’re skipping down the streets with Anglo-Saxon children and making daisy chains to express their gratitude at how hospitable the locals have been. Just like the immigrants of today, they undoubtedly want the best for the country they’re ‘migrating’ to and yearn for nothing more than seamless assimilation, equality and GDP growth. I am of course painting a caricature of what this module is implying, though the fact remains that the Vikings were not ‘migrants’ at all – they were invaders.
The Kingdom of Northumbria was already deeply embroiled in a civil war between two rival Kings, Ælla and Osberht when the Vikings began a raid of the city. Norse tradition holds that upon defeat the two Kings were blood-eagled and the Vikings ultimately triumphed in a battle of excessive violence. The Vikings proceeded to seize control and established the Kingdom of Jórvík centred around York. I could spend an age deliberating on the minutia of these events but the pressing issue at hand is the insidious language being woven into the modern teaching of history.
Something the right is truly awful at is effectively resisting the linguistic warfare being callously waged upon us. The merciless brutality of the Battle of York highlights the underhanded substitution of the term ‘invader’ for ‘migrant’; this surreptitious move undoubtedly has the politically motivated goal of the student not distinguishing between modern mass immigration and medieval Viking invasion. They’re dying to hear their indoctrinated students say “Immigration has always been a staple of our culture”, and hoping they question no further.
The usage of the word continues to be applied liberally throughout the module – the specification defines a migrant as “encompassing those affected by both voluntary and forced migration, temporary migrants, migrants from abroad and internal migrants within Britain”. This definition would have you believe that Alan from Gloucester, who is moving to Chippenham for a consulting job, is exactly the same as Ali, a Pakistani immigrant, travelling halfway across the world from a culturally alien society to start a grooming gang in Rotherham. I think you’d agree that the term possesses little currency if the scope of its meaning is so vast and clouded.
If one wishes to engage in semantics, the Vikings were technically ‘migrants’, but to give an inch to subversives and indeed to even entertain their lexical framing is to lose the battle entirely. The writers of this module wish to create the impression that England and Britain were always multi-ethnic societies. To be clear, England was never a multi-ethnic society – not in its conception, nor reality – it was a monoethnic society of Anglo-Saxons established by King Æthelstan in 927AD. Celtic peoples resided in northern parts of the Kingdom as well as Cornwall if you wish to be pedantic, but the meta-narrative of the nation was inextricably bounded to King Alfred and the Anglo-Saxon ethnicity.
Migration in Modern Britain
One positive of this module section is the use of the word ‘migration’ in the title – it is more congruent with the socially understood meaning of the term. The substantially larger downside is that it is packed with unabashed lies, outright deception and vindictive demonisation of the native population.
Mass migration into Britain began in June 1948 with the arrival of the HMS Windrush at Tilbury Dock and, unsurprisingly, the module writers immediately begin to deceive their confiding students. Reading this module or watching any modern documentary on the subject, you’d be presented with an allegory of noble West Indians altruistically surrendering their way of life to help unwelcoming Londoners rebuild their city after the war. This narrative is xenophilic, self-hating garbage.
The Windrush was operated by the New Zealand Shipping Company on behalf of the Ministry of Transport and it was half empty when docked in Kingston, Jamaica in April 1945. The company had the brilliant idea of selling Jamaicans cheap tickets to England to pocket a little extra cash, all the while giving the English no prior warning. The politicians at the time were taken aback by the arrival of the ship and even had to make emergency provisions for them. Accounts of the passengers on the Windrush make no mention of ever being invited to work in England. Don’t believe me? Have a read of some personal accounts from the BBC website yourself. They, like most people who emigrate, did so for what they deemed a better lifestyle and as a calculation of economic self-interest.
The weaving of this myth deliberately portrays Londoners as ungrateful and cruel as well as falsifying and obfuscating key details of the event; fanning the flames of anti-white hatred. Unfortunately, when these distortions and fabrications enter public consciousness, the symbolistic power they are imbued with can prove difficult to dispel.
The module goes on to demonise Mr Enoch Powell, possibly the most erudite politician of the 20th century. Powell lived an amazing life and achieved many outstanding feats. Powell was the youngest brigadier in the British army, became a professor of Greek at the age of 25, and spoke nine languages to name just a few of his achievements. However, the most notable characteristic about Powell didn’t end up being his encyclopaedic knowledge but his intellectual fearlessness.
On April 20th 1968, Powell gave his famous ‘Rivers of Blood’ speech and the module would have you believe that Powell was motivated by unbridled hatred of immigrants rather than a love of hearth and homeland. When Powell took pleasure in speaking Urdu in Indian restaurants, when he became an expert in the country and town planning, and even when he placed value in the continuity and traditions of Britain, he was always undoubtedly guided by hatred. Contrary to mainstream perception, Powell was actually very liberal on various issues from divorce law reform to opposing capital punishment to name but two (a far cry from the crypto-fascist authoritarian picture being painted).
The simple fact is that Powell was an ethnocentric man like most other people on the planet and sought to protect his nation from what he saw as catastrophic demographic collapse. Powell’s dynamism and oratory prowess struck an emphatic chord with the people and the prescience of his observations is undeniable to anyone today.
Our ‘Educators’ and Rectifying the Problem
Gaetano Mosca, the progenitor of what came to be the school of Italian Elite Theory, came up with the idea of the ‘Political Formula’ i.e. the philosophy that justifies the rule of an elite. Our current elite’s political formula is something along the lines of: ‘diversity, tolerance and inclusion’ and holds that individual self-expression is the ultimate good, from this it would follow that collective identities are the ultimate evil due to their exclusivity. Nationalism is a form of collective identity, and collective identities exclude and alienate people by their very nature; what value does an identity hold if everyone can possess it? Not much. Nationalism and group identity are therefore a spit in the face of our elite’s political formula, specifically directed towards their sacrosanct value of inclusion.
Coupled with this political formula, our elite possesses a managerial and technocratic ethos, pursuing economic growth above anything transcendent; the notion of ‘Homo Economicus’ is ever-present. This hyper-individualistic and material mindset has a direct impact on how our elites view their own history – it tolerates no deviation, and trickles down to our teachers.
Rectifying this problem begins with assailing the current political formula and the Boomer Truth Regime we live under. The political formula of the Right should be one of hierarchy, dynamism and vitality. Life-affirming masculine narratives of our greatness should be taught to our students – national heroes like Drake, Nelson and Wellington would be mandatory course material. The endless self-flagellation we’ve been subjected to is not in the character of our people and should be thrown onto the dumpster fire as duplicitous crap. Harping on about our supposed moral shortcomings and historical wrongs is not in the best interests of our people – they need something different.
Conclusion
The insidious aims of these module planners are all unspoken of and intentionally so; incrementalism is a powerful tool – slowly boiling the frog has too often proved effective, but leftist chicanery need only be unearthed by a man willing to do the digging. Clandestine word games and their political goals become painstakingly clear when intellectually challenged and vast portions of our people yearn for well-grounded positions against them. This fact only further necessitates that the linguistic framework we find ourselves in requires a radical counteroffensive – this is of paramount importance.
People are not governed by rationality, their opinions are governed by belief, superstition, feelings and base instincts. Following this logic, a nationalistic outlook is branded into the minds of most healthy people, all that is required is a little cudgelling to get them in line with our vision. I believe the average Englishman is instinctually aware of the intellectual deconstruction of his culture but articulating it coherently is another matter.
Modern sensibilities demand that not only we English, but all European nations simply give up the exclusive nature of their identities, sacrificing them on the altar of inclusivity when no other peoples are expected to do so. Only we bear the moral responsibility of safeguarding our identity from these malicious attacks – permissiveness from others and within ourselves must not be tolerated.
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Rousseau and the Legacy of Romanticism
One idea that I’ve fondly taken from Augusto del Noce is that ideologies have an internal logic to them, which unfolds as they interact with real-world events. Philosophies aren’t static, but constantly changing as they play out against one another historically. This view, while similar to the Marxist notion of praxis, finds ultimate inspiration from Joseph de Maistre. It’s de Maistre who writes that the French Revolution sweeps men up against their will and devours its own children.
Once put into practice, revolutions take on a life of their own, and like a wild tiger on a leash, drag their authors to new and unheard-of places. This isn’t to deny human free will; something I strongly affirm. It’s rather to recognise that rational humans, faced with circumstances, strive to act consistently with what they believe. This mechanism of consistency is what causes ideologies to evolve over time.
This insight is a powerful tool for understanding the long-term consequences of philosophies. The social sciences may quantify popular actions and opinions, but because human wishes are often nebulous, and people are fond of lying to themselves, there’s always room to dispute the results. The romantic primitivism of Jean Jacques Rousseau is one such ideology. Since being unleashed into the world from the bloody womb of the Reign of Terror, it has branched in many different directions and morphed into shapes Rousseau himself wouldn’t have recognised.
To define romanticism, I turn to Irving Babbitt and his 1919 work Rousseau and Romanticism. Romanticism sets itself in opposition to classicism. Classicism seeks standards for ethics and culture in universal types which it deems natural. It’s not the case that classicism seeks rules necessarily (lest we confuse it with Kantianism). Aristotle is the foremost classicist, yet he denies that norms are truly codifiable into rules. A universal type is rather an ideal based upon the nature of something. A classicist (like Aristotle) might say that being polite at the dinner table is something we should do, and this politeness consists of showing due moderation in eating, drinking, talking etc. But this isn’t a rule so much as a way of displaying the excellence proper to a human being.
Classicism isn’t opposed to emotion either. Rather, it subdues emotions to rational norms. Human nature has a standard of excellence which demands the proper use of emotion. In other words, emotions are good or bad depending on how we wield them according to a standard for the human species. The one able to do this is a universal type, what Aristotle calls the phronimos, or wise man. The later Stoics didn’t condemn emotions entirely, as the popular misconception of them. They rather encouraged natural emotions and discouraged the unnatural. Again, nature is a standard for ideal behaviour, external to individual fancy.
Romanticism, on the other hand, seeks standards in what’s unique and unrepeatable. Instead of conforming to generic ideals, goodness comes from spontaneous individual acts and thoughts. The cause for this is Rousseau’s doctrine of original sanctity. Classicism makes a distinction between ‘things-as-they-are’ and ‘things-as-they-ought’. Humans, animals, and plants don’t come into the world fulfilling an ideal; they arrive imperfect and must strive after their ideal. If we deny this, as Rousseau does, then to be good just is to be what one is. The generic ideal has no purpose and drops out. Authenticity to oneself as one is becomes the aim of life, and this can only find expression in unrepeatable spontaneous acts.
Indeed, once authenticity becomes central, it’s but a short step to rebelling against all standards which society imposes on the self. Since whatever standards society imposes must be ideal repeatable types, and no ideal repeatable types are authentic, no socially imposed standards can be authentic. And since goodness lies in authenticity, being truly good means casting off the standards society has imposed.
As Alasdair Macintyre wryly says in After Virtue, Enlightenment philosophes have the least self-awareness of all thinkers. They create new and revolutionary systems, but the content of their morality is entirely inherited from the civilisation they’ve inherited and which they despise. Thus, Rousseau’s ethics are stuffed full of quaint and puritanical Calvinist ideas from his Genevan upbringing. “Effeminacy” is one of his constant worries, and he applies the term, in boyish fashion, to anything he doesn’t like. Thus, in the Discourse on the Origin of Inequality, he can condemn civilised man:
“By becoming sociable and enslaved, he becomes weak, fearful, and grovelling, and his soft and effeminate way of life ends by enervating both his strength and his courage.”
Take these relics away, however, and Rousseau’s romanticism has only its sentimental primitivism to act as a limiting moral principle. Goodness is whatever lies in the untainted human heart, freed from social corruption. What becomes of it then? I wager it must enter an eternal spiral of liberation. Romanticism is built on the idea that we’ll be truly happy only when we free ourselves from all external rules and uncover a pre-social authenticity. Since this is a lie, no amount of liberation will ever create happiness. So, to remain consistent with itself, romanticism must seek ever more shackles of oppression to shatter. It’s either that or admit error.
The progressive radicalisation built into romanticism is visible everywhere. The sexual revolution, for example, has no brakes, because it’s built on a romanticised and primitivist vision of sex that would be falsified the moment brakes are applied. The radicals of the mid-twentieth century believed that socialised sexuality was corrupt, and once the orgasm was freed from all external restraints, pure happiness would result (Wilhelm Reich, for example, thought-free love was the precondition to utopian social democracy). Free love hasn’t made us happier, however. So, the answer is to find ever more previously unknown sexual taboos, whose chains we must shatter if we’re at last to be free.
In everyday morality, romantic assumptions have remade the life quest we each undertake for goodness, into a quest for authenticity. Finding one’s true self is now a drain on the wallet of the entire Western bourgeoisie. People of ages past underwent transformative moral journeys that turned them from sinners to saints, but theirs wasn’t a trek for authenticity. They did something far more mundane: they changed their minds. There’s an implicit vanity in the true-self doctrine. Changing your mind means admitting error. Finding your true self means you were right all along, but just didn’t notice it, because society was keeping you blind.
The cultural production of this quest is, I believe, simply inferior to the production of a mind that looks outwards from itself onto something else. Someone obsessed with finding his authentic self doesn’t have time to stand in awe of things greater than himself. What is falling in love, if not to be overcome by the sense of the intrinsic irreplaceable value of another person, without reference to oneself? We have all effectively become Rousseau writing his Confessions. A man who delighted in nature and other people only as frissons to express his authentic self, and could begin his book with the words:
“Here is the only portrait of a man, painted exactly after nature and in all her truth, that exists and probably ever will exist.”
In education, romantic ideas have done away with the rote learning that characterised pedagogy from Ancient Greece, through the middle ages and down to the Victorian Age. Twentieth-century educators like John Dewey, following in Rousseau’s footsteps, sought to remake schooling around the true self doctrine. Instead of moulding a pupil to conform to an ideal (a gentleman or citizen), modern education exists to help him discover his uncorrupted pre-social self. Self-expression without rules has become the educational norm, with the result that we have people who are experts in analysing their own minds and emotions, but incapable of self-denial or rigour. The excellence of mind and body requires constant training. We accept this more readily about the body because physical fitness is visible. But the mind, which is invisible, needs just as much training to be fit for purpose.
In the end, I see romanticism as an enormous civilisational gamble. The difference between classicism and romanticism is about what we think reality is truly like. The classicist sees a human race born lacking and sees culture as how a scaffold is to a building. Culture exists as an aid to human completion. The romantic, meanwhile, claims that human nature isn’t completable, but already complete, and merely corrupted. He wagers that if we accept this idea, we can remake the world for the better. Like any gambler, he doesn’t think about the stakes if the wager is lost. Here the stakes are social catastrophe if the assumption is untrue. If the truth is classical, then romanticism is akin to raising a lion on a strict vegetarian diet.
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The Great Exhibition of 2025
The beginnings of the Great Exhibition of 1851 begin with Prince Albert. After spending time as the President of the Society for the Encouragement of Arts, Commerce and Manufactures a few years prior, and having seen the success of the Exhibition of Products of French Industry, the Royal Commission for the Exhibition of 1851 was created. Spearheaded by Victorian England’s greatest industrial thinkers, including Henry Cole, Owen Jones, and Isambard Kingdom Brunel, plans were immediately drawn up.
Joseph Paxton’s Crystal Palace was the chosen design for the structure. Measuring 1,851 feet with an interior height of 128 feet, the purpose of the structure was not only to be practical and cost effective, but a statement too. The Crystal Palace was representative of Victorian ingenuity and innovation, combining practicality with beauty. Without a need for interior lighting and being of a temporary nature, the structure was perhaps the greatest exhibit of all. Inside, exhibits included the Koh-I-Noor diamond, the Trophy Telescope, the first voting machine, and the prototype for the 1851 Colt Navy. Over the course of the next six months, over six million people would visit the exhibition, including the likes of Charles Darwin, Karl Marx, and Queen Victoria on 33 occasions.
The Victorians were longtermists, and thus understood that influencing the long-term future was essential to maintaining a strong and capable society. Indeed, many civilisations of the past were longtermist, and they understood the importance of building not only for functionality but for its wider contribution to culture. The Great Exhibition was such an example, proving wildly popular not only for its technological vigour, but for its cultural significance. Considering the success of the Great Exhibition and the exhibitions that preceded and proceeded it, I care to ask why we haven’t hosted such an exhibition in recent history.
If a new Great Exhibition is to succeed, it really needs to capture the spirit of 1851. This cannot be used as a soulless quest for more tourism. It needs to be genuinely meaningful, productive, and awe-inspiring. Recent attempts to plan and host such an event, namely being the Festival of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, probably passed by without many of us knowing of its existence, let alone care. These events are terribly unproductive, and undoubtedly lead to a greater financial input than the value received. A genuine event of real value needs to break boundaries.
What would a modern-day exhibition look like? It should be noted that the structure used in 1851 was itself ‘modern’ and ‘different’ by 19th century standards. The point here is to create and innovate. To create something new, even if to be inspired by the past. Perhaps, this would serve an opportunity for architects to search for new architectural design, one to move us past the heavily criticised architecture of recent times. Whatever it is, it needs to be magnificent and grand. The Great Exhibition showed us that technological advancement does not have to be clouded in grey.
Moreover, the exhibits should be genuinely innovative and valuable. In 2013, Peter Theil famously said that “we wanted flying cars, instead we got 140 characters.” Technological innovation has been narrowing towards internet-based services, whether that be social media or management software, and has left us in a ‘great stagnation’. There is huge opportunity to innovate outside of this and break the frontiers of technology, particularly as the United Kingdom begins to pivot towards a tech-based economy. We can be the first to lead the revolutions in medicine, transport, manufacturing, and energy.
In 1850, Prince Albert said: “The exhibition of 1851 is to give us a true test and a living picture of the point of development at which the whole of mankind has arrived in this great task, and a new starting point from which all nations will be able to direct their further exertions.”
This speaks greatly of the attitude needed today, and hopefully the attitude a new Great Exhibition can birth. We need to once again strive to break the frontiers of industry and technology, and to understand its importance to long-term civilisational thinking. Only by innovating can the United Kingdom hope to regather its former power.
Ultimately, this is about developing and refining a culture, just as Prince Albert pursued his vision of Victorian industrialism. What is our vision? Who do we seek to be? Much has been said of the United Kingdom’s lack of identity and purpose, but the answers need to stretch further than basic policy reforms. Groundbreaking change is needed to sway the current direction of the country, to alter its path. Given it is planned correctly, a new Great Exhibition can do just that.
