So. Farewell then, Professor Van-Tam
Professor “Sir” Jonathan Van-Tam has today (13 January, 2022) announced that he’s to leave his role as England’s deputy chief medical officer. Naturally, upon receipt of this news the BBC wheeled out the old supersonic bullshit canon down at Broadcasting House, and, in no time at all, were leaflet dropping Covid civilian zones with “JVT’s most memorable Covid advice and analogies.”
“From pants and football,” they chortled away to themselves (no doubt steaming up their Covid visors in the process), “To yoghurts and trains, Professor Sir Jonathan Van-Tam has used colourful language to advise people throughout the pandemic.” Yes, yes. Very amusing. No doubt the man’s a real comic turn once you get to know him. And yet…
And yet, for some inexplicable reason, the BBC’s touching little panegyric failed to mention one of Van-Tam’s most revealing linguistic slips. People shouldn’t think, he once remarked at one of those Downing Street press conferences we’ve all grown so fond of talking to our therapists about, that “after the second dose of your vaccine, it’s okay to behave with wild abandon and go off to the bingo halls and whatever you like and so forth.”
If there are, as Sigmund Freud claimed in The Psychopathology of Everyday Life, “a thousand unnoticed openings which let a penetrating eye at once into a man’s soul,” then here, surely, is a slip that takes us to the very soul of the middle-class lockdown zealot; the spot at which university educated, class-based prejudice touches the levers of authoritarian, bullying power and finds - much to its falafel munching, sandal wearing, progressivist surprise - that it doesn’t want to let go.
According to Philip L. Graham, the former President and Publisher of the Washington Post, “news is the first rough draft of history.” Well, if that’s the case, then please consider the following piece - originally published in the Daily Sceptic last year - as a much needed editorial addendum to the BBC’s purblind, hagiographic fumblings.
Van Tam’s Bingo Slip
On 28 December 2020, the UK’s Deputy Chief Medical Officer, Professor Van Tam, joined the Prime Minister for one of his now semi-regular COVID press conferences. According to Breitbart News, at one point, ‘The top doctor said people should not think, “after the second dose of your vaccine, it’s okay to behave with wild abandon and go off to the bingo halls and whatever you like and so forth.”’
Bingo halls.
What a wonderful sliver of rhetorical spite. With these words doth the activist behind the ostensibly objective scientific façade reveal himself. The condescension for the working-class, Brexit voting scum couldn’t be any clearer, could it?
Bingo halls.
A place-holding metonym drawn from the realm of fish and chips, pubs, boozing, council estates, seaside holidays, nail bars, self-employment. All that toxic masculinity, all those “Karens.” Yuck.
Some of what’s happening with lockdown now can usefully be considered as a visceral, psychological reaction to the lack of control these people were able to wield when it came to Brexit. Sounds over the top, doesn’t it? Until you peruse their Twitter pages, that is. These are not happy people. There’s anger, but, perhaps most importantly, there’s an unmistakeable sense of anxiety too. “Tory Scum” got in the way of Corbyn’s utopian society; Trump got in the way of corporate friendly (sorry, I mean “migrant friendly”) global capitalism; Brexit got in the way of their beloved European research networks and funding opportunities.
Lack of control is arguably the root cause of a psychological dysfunctionality like anxiety. For four years they’ve had to live as part of a society that was doing something they didn’t like and that they couldn’t control. They’ve never forgiven the “Bingo Hall” povs for that. It makes them anxious. And what do anxious people really want most of all? Control. But here’s the thing, because, when you think about it, what is anxiety? It’s simply a location on a wider psychological spectrum that has “desire for minimal control” at one end (e.g. the figure of the hedonist), and “desire for high levels of control” at the other (e.g. the figure of the neurotic). Generalised anxiety is towards the latter end, the right-hand end, of this spectrum.
Some anxious people can of course get by in life simply by establishing minimal types of control over their own local environment (their house, their living room, their routines, etc). Some need to manage and regulate the behaviours of others too. Beyond that, and a little further along the spectrum, some need to control everything and everyone around them. And, as we move across towards the very extreme right-hand end of this spectrum of control, we get to sadism; that is, the need to completely control others and, further, to dole out harsh punishment or humiliation to those who can’t be controlled.
Have some of our scientific bureaucrats started to slide out towards this end of the spectrum? Is it the peculiar constitutional and political positioning of SAGE – ostensibly just “advisory,” but, thanks to the power of media-relations and clandestine leaking, also a de facto executive body – that has allowed them to do so? Put another way, is what’s happening now with our never-ending lockdown the biomedical equivalent of an occupying army sadistically razing a village that’s been found to have been aiding and abetting the resistance?
It makes me wonder. After all, those villages aren’t destroyed solely because of psychopathic anger; there’s also the functional need to reassert control over what hitherto hadn’t been controlled adequately. It isn’t just “we will hurt you for your disobedience,” (punishment response) but also, and at the same time, “never again will we not know what you’re doing behind our backs” (reassertion of control response). It’s this combination that creates the peculiar phenomenon we term “sadism.”
I’m not a psychologist, but I’m struggling for psychological answers, because I don’t think what’s happening is analysable in any strictly political, social or economic way. J.G. Ballard is probably the greatest sociologist of lockdown because he saw more clearly than most that it wouldn’t be the violence of the Marxian working-classes, but rather, the neuroses of the well-paid and cosseted middle classes who would in the end destroy western, liberal, capitalist societies. So when people like Van Tam let slip these odd little comments, I feel I’m more right than I am wrong.
It’s also the type of analysis that would shed a little light on Professor Ferguson’s otherwise curious “getting away with instigating lockdown” comment from his recent interview with The Times. Getting away with ... well, what, precisely? Revenge? The reassertion of technocratic control over Parliamentary unpredictability?
I ask simply because it isn’t a socially recognisable thing for someone to remark that they’re “getting away” with keeping people safe, or that they’re “getting away with” saving lives. Okay, maybe he meant “getting away” with doing what’s right in order to keep the povvy, freedom-loving Bingo players who don’t know what’s good for them alive…
… but if that is indeed what he meant, then what would that statement imply? Perhaps that he and his colleagues had been hoping to find an opportunity for reasserting technocratic control over the great unwashed and that they’d finally found one... which would then lead us back to my psychological analysis of their motivations.
I’m not saying that they know at any literal, conscious level that this is what they’re doing. I’m sure they feel they’re acting for the best of reasons. In that sense, they’re no different to the rest of us, are they? Most social actions require most of us, most of the time, to lie to ourselves: e.g. “I’m happy at work!” “It’s not you, it’s me.” “I cheated on my partner because s/he wasn’t making me happy, so, really, all of this is her/his fault!” “Money can’t buy you happiness!” etc etc. But at a social psychological level, somewhere between the unknowable unconscious and the rationality of the cerebellum, I wouldn’t be surprised if a literally “sadistic” need for control drives people like Van Tam and Ferguson; a desire to re-establish control, and to do so overtly enough that he and his colleagues can convince themselves that, after four years in the wilderness, they’ve finally re-established control.