The limbo of perpetual betrayal

The most powerful weapon of the right-wing elites trying to crash us out of the EU with no deal is the narrative of betrayal.

From the beginnings of UKIP Nigel Farage has depicted the EU as stealing what makes Britain British. He continues to rally ordinary hard-working people to rid us of the traitors in our midst so that a new golden era of proud and triumphant patriotism can bloom on lawns and in pub gardens across the land.

With his decision to support Leave in 2016, Johnson understood the seductive power of this story, and with it the rich fuel it could provide to propel his career. Indeed, in his many years ridiculing the EU as a journalist he helped to create the very dynamic that he is now using to gamble with the future of the United Kingdom.

And the story is far from over. For those politicians cynical enough it is the gift that keeps on giving. Like a cancer it has spread from propping up the careers of a few journalists and fringe politicians to engulfing our entire political system.

Whereas before it was only faceless EU bureaucrats who were scapegoated to sell copies of the Daily Mail, Sun, Express, and Telegraph, it is now anyone who doesn’t toe the most extreme line of Brexit. And as a power-grabbing strategy for right-wing politicians, it has worked remarkably well so far.

(Incidentally the rise of Brexit betrayal in public consciousness was due in no small part to UKIP failing to gain any MPs in our first-past-the-post electoral system. Ironically, European-style proportional representation would have delivered UKIP MPs to match their national vote share, and it would arguably have been much more straightforward to expose their lack of substance a long time ago).

When Farage and the Tory right finally got their referendum, the new traitors were remain-supporting metropolitan elites betraying ordinary people with their fear-mongering and deliberate attempt to over-complicate the question by involving “experts”.

When Theresa May negotiated her deal with the EU, she became the traitor for not negotiating a deal that delivered on “the will of the people” (despite no-one having asked the people what deal they wanted). Most MPs who voted against it also of course became traitors, where as those who voted against it because they wanted a harder Brexit became heroes.

And now we face the greatest betrayal of all. We finally have a hard Brexit government willing to enact “the will of the people” by crashing us out by any means necessary. And here are the politicians determined to thwart it again by uniting in opposition to no deal and trying to pass legislation to stop the disaster.

This is the backdrop for the crucial next few days. All signs are that Johnson wants the opposition and rebel alliance to succeed so that he can shout “Betrayal!” and call a “People vs the Politicians” election (where he will genuinely attempt to presents himself as “one of the people” with a straight – if laughably smug as always – face).

A general election without the brutal reality of a no deal Brexit exposed is much easier to fight than one where the consequences have been with us for at least a few months (like Schrodinger’s cat, no deal only exists for a brief moment in time before it’s necessary to confront the reality of physical inconveniences like the Irish border).

But despite the fact that Johnson’s immediate next task would of course be to (surprise, surprise) negotiate with the EU, the chances of the howls of betrayal distracting everyone from this and leading to electoral victory seem depressingly high.

And indeed even after a no deal Brexit has taken place, the narrative of betrayal can continue. No longer will it be UK politicians thwarting the will of the people, but Europe will be portrayed as continuing to exert its malign influence even once we are out by not agreeing to whatever demands we make (no matter how abstract and unthought-through).

The lack of instantly agreeing a trade deal with identical benefits to full EU membership will be portrayed as wholly the EU’s fault, and nothing to do with the incompetence and arrogance of Brexiteers like David Davis and Boris Johnson, who despite repeated and ongoing failures seem to think they can strong-arm an entire continent into submission because Britain once had an empire and was the home of the industrial revolution.

The narrative has to end at some point, with the whole ridiculous illusion exposed, and at that point we can start talking about how to rebuild our utterly wrecked political system. But we could have a very long way to go.

The fact that Corbyn has finally shown himself capable of bringing together disparate voices of opposition is a hugely welcome development, and everyone involved should be congratulated for finally showing a bit of maturity. But if the attempts to block no deal this week succeed then it presents problems of its own.

The narrative of betrayal will be stronger than ever, and we may need to strap in for the same betrayal message to be repeated whilst our political institutions crumble and our public services continue the tragic rot that has been wrought on them for almost a decade of Tory rule.

The crucial question must be how do we puncture the bubble? How to break through and tell the truth? There is a nuanced complexity in maintaining and evolving a viable economic and political relationship with our European neighbours. But millions of people believe the simple story that continues to be fed to them, and those of us opposed to no deal must make efforts to simplify and amplify our own narrative.

This is our challenge, and it is one that we are not grasping with enough urgency. A united opposition to no deal Brexit provides a huge opportunity to tackle it, but we must move fast.

Much as Dominic Cummings manipulated millions through Facebook in 2016, as opponents to no deal we must massively up our game when it comes to taking the opportunities presented by social media. Whilst the right-wing press has been instrumental in driving us to the edge of this cliff, their grip on the narrative may be more vulnerable than we think.

Because the truth is that it’s Brexiteers like Johnson, Rees-Mogg and Farage who are the cynical elites manipulating ordinary people for their own gain, not the opponents of no deal. Posts like this are shared within social media bubbles, but there is little evidence that the right messages are getting through to the voters who really matter.

If opposition groups come together to share data (appropriately anonymised of course) and execute a coordinated digital marketing strategy then we have a shot of succeeding in a way that could match the success of the Vote Leave victory in 2016. But the status quo is opposition groups (including political parties of course) working in silos.

All the signs are that they are flying blind in individual attempts to take on an adversary who had the (albeit cynical and in breach of electoral law) foresight to work with the likes of Cambridge Analytica three years ago, with all the devastating consequences that are still playing out today on both sides of the Atlantic. I hope very much that I’m wrong, and that there is collaboration happening behind the scenes between opposition parties and the many other groups opposed to no deal so that a consistent messaging strategy can be agreed and effectively executed.

With a general election this autumn now a near certainty, and finally some cause of optimism amongst those finally united in political opposition to no deal, targeting the right swing voters with the right messages will be absolutely crucial. If we fail at this task, the limbo of perpetual betrayal will continue indefinitely, with ever more ominous consequences for democracy.

The pros and cons of Medium as a publishing platform

Recently I published a couple of posts on Medium at https://medium.com/@jamieandrews (please feel free to read them!). I really like the way the writing is presented and lots of people I like and respect write there.

When I set up this blog/website it was supposedly possible to simultaneously publish posts via Medium and on your own site, but the plugin linking the two didn’t seem to work, and I want to spend my time writing not configuring syndication tools between websites.

Medium are now trying to encourage authors to keep their content behind a Medium paywall (they are looking for a business model that doesn’t rely on polluting their clean UX with advertising). Although it’s still possible to share a “friend link” that isn’t behind the paywall, it’s unclear what happens when posts are shared with friends of friends, or how likely any paywalled content would be promoted to paying users (or indeed how many paying users there are).

All this has made me reluctantly conclude that I won’t publish on Medium anymore as it’s more straightforward to just post here instead and know that there is no paywall. It’s disappointing because I would like to try and be part of the Medium writing/reading community, but I feel that their proposition is a bit complex for me to jump in.

What I would prefer is a way to simply use Medium as a publishing tool/content management system on my own domain, and I would be happy to pay for the privilege. Medium could then automatically review content published in this way and re-publish/curate it for their own (paying or otherwise) users. It’s a shame that this service isn’t available.

What I’ve been up to…

Once again I have categorically failed to write regular blog posts, despite thinking that this time would be different now that I no longer have Loco2 to keep me busy.

In amongst all the fretting about Brexit (I have listened to way too much news and commentary than is healthy!), I’ve been working on a few interesting projects that I plan to announce publicly soon.

One of the projects is a tech startup that I’m working on with some friends to try and solve my personal frustration at how hard it is to organise recreational football games each week.

Another is a nascent venture related to trains (though nothing to do with selling tickets) which I’ve been inspired by after following its progress over the last year or so. I should be joining the board as a non-executive director.

I’m helping some friends who are developing an exciting idea for a zero waste food retail venture, including thinking through how the technology and consumer behaviour change angle of this could be scaled up.

I’ve also completed an 11-week creative writing course and written about 10,000 words, ranging from short stories to the beginning/outline of a novel that I had the idea for many years ago. I hope to continue writing the novel in the coming months (and probably years) so that I don’t remain one of those people who always had an idea for a book but never actually wrote it.

Another update will follow soon when I’m in a position to go public with some of the above.

(Hooray, I’ve written a blog post!)

How the Independent Group can win

Right now we have a very surreal political situation.

The hard right of the Conservative Party (the ERG) wants to leave the largest free market area in the world and impose protectionist tariffs (in the hopelessly misguided and nostalgic belief that we can build a new British Empire from the ashes).

The hard left of the Labour Party (Corbyn loyalists) are also happy with a protectionist Brexit because it means escaping neoliberalism and safeguarding the interests of the traditional British working class (who have long been replaced by a precariat subject to economic forces that are intrinsically global).

Brexit cannot deliver both a neoliberal economic utopia (which is what the ERG is aiming for) and a socialist utopia (what the Corbyn Brexiteers are aiming for). They are polar opposites and both parties are stuck in the past. British politics is like a fat person who’s been watching telly for the last two decades suddenly getting up and trying to do the splits.

Enter the Independent Group of 11 MPs who’ve left Labour and the Tories. They hope to avert Brexit and avoid both no deal (which would lead to economic chaos) and Theresa’s May’s deal (which doesn’t even address the economics, hence needing a backstop in case the following years of negotiation fail).

All this mind-bending complexity and paradox is quite the opposite of the simple choice offered in the referendum, and it’s no wonder that people are frustrated. The first thing the Independent Group needs to do is point this out in a non-patronising way.

This is clearly easier said than done. But the Leave campaign has now been found to have clearly breached campaigning financing rules, particularly around their use of shady Facebook advertising that manipulated people who had previously (very understandably) shown little interest in politics.

The next thing that they need to do is have the balls to admit that the neoliberal economics of the EU need to change. The British people aren’t stupid. They’ve seen how countries like Greece have been bullied when things start going tits up. And they understand that the global economic system (where the EU and the UK have basically just followed the American model for decades now) is broken, and has been for over a decade now.

Without a credible acknowledgement that there is a lot wrong with UK public services, that austerity doesn’t work, and that we can’t just keep polishing the turd produced by George Osborne after the financial crisis, the new group will fall flat on its face.

A remain and reform platform is still within the grasp of British politics, and by treating the British public with respect it should still be possible to bring the majority along with a new plan. But we need substance and detail quickly, and in a way that speaks beyond the Westminster bubble.

Cycling La Velodyssée (in November!)

In November my girlfriend and I embarked on an adventure by bike down the Atlantic coast of France. We try to avoid flying for climate change reasons and we wanted to extend the outdoorsy feeling of summer for as long as possible. It was our first proper cycling trip and we had a great time!

The trip was inspired by an earlier holiday where we’d spotted an undulating path through sand dunes next to a beach near Royan. It was part of the French section of La Vélodysée, an amazing 1200km route from Roscoff in Brittany to Hendaye on the Spanish border.

Route map courtesy of the very useful velodyssey.com website

The Vélodyssée is itself part of the wider EuroVelo network that spans Europe. The French section we did is one of the most developed, with over 70% of the route entirely car-free (other routes on the network have more sections on roads).

To camp or not to camp

Before we left we deliberated a lot about whether to camp.

On one hand we wanted a proper adventure with plenty of room for spontaneity. There are loads of campsites on the route but they are all shut by mid-October. So we looked into wild camping and discovered that whilst not strictly legal, it seems fairly widespread in France.

On the other hand, it was November! Sunset was around 5.30pm, and the night temperature quickly drops, despite usually reaching the high teens (Celsius) in the day. We knew it was unlikely we’d camp more than 50% of the time and all the gear adds a lot of weight.

So in the end we decided to bite the bullet and not camp (this meant we could carry lots of extra luxuries such as a yoga mat!).

Our bikes

We are both regular cyclists in London and our bikes are nothing special. Mine is a basic 8 year-old hybrid of the now-discontinued Revolution range from Edinburgh Bike Cooperative.

I contemplated getting a new bike for the trip. But it’s been regularly serviced, with any components replaced as necessary (is it even the same bike now?), so I concluded that as I didn’t have any fundamental concerns about the frame, it would do the job fine.

I got some extra gears rings added so it now has 24 rather than 8 gears, allowing me to get up hills when carrying a lot of weight. I already had a rear pannier rack, and added a front rack as well, meaning I could carry four bags in total (the front panniers smaller and carrying less weight than the rear so as not to cause balance issues, all Ortleib).

Some of the terrain on the Velodyssée was bumpier than we’d expected (especially the “Voie vertes” greenways). Our hybrid bikes could handle it but road bikes would have been in trouble. We both had Armadillo tires, and miraculously didn’t get a single puncture for the whole trip.

We both took four panniers in total (arguably carrying way too much considering we weren’t camping – we even managed to fit in a yoga mat!). Plus I carried an extra small bag on my handlebars for easy access.

Preparing for departure

The Vélodysée website helpfully breaks the route down into 14 sections, and we guessed that each section (average 80km) would be roughly achievable in a day (in the end it took us 3 weeks in total but the route would definitely be achievable in around 2 weeks with an average-to-good level of fitness, and without the 4-5 rest days we enjoyed).

The website also provides GPS route files that we imported into a custom Googlemap. Before we left used the map to get a feel for how far we might ride each day and to check out the major(ish) towns on the route to understand the kinds of places we might stay.

Despite saying it’s possible to book online, we’d had to call First Great Western to reserve bike spaces from London Paddington to Plymouth, where we were headed to take the overnight ferry to the starting point of Roscoff.

We booked our first night’s accommodation before we left so we had somewhere to aim for, and because we didn’t yet have the confidence to be spontaneous about accommodation planning. From the second day onwards we booked the next day’s accommodation the day before (either on Booking.com or Airbnb mobile apps), and sometimes on the day itself.

And we’re off

Compared to Plymouth (no offence!) we were pleasantly surprised at how lovely Roscoff was, and we started with a lovely breakfast in the sun.

Despite it being November we often ate outside in comfort

We set off by checking the map we’d loaded onto our phones, and were pleased to discover that the route was soon very well signposted, something that was to continue throughout the trip.

Signs like this were everywhere along the route in both urban and rural locations, and became our trusty guide

We’d been worried about getting cold and wet (most people go cycling in summer!) but there were only a couple of days on the whole trip when we really felt the weather. We usually wore leggings with cycling shorts over the top, with two or three layers (including a Merino wool base layer) on our top half (including down jackets and waterproofs when necessary).

How we used technology

After some trial-and-error in the first few days, this was our mapping and tracking setup:

  • Before we left we loaded the GPS route loaded onto a custom GoogleMap (see Preparing for Departure above)
  • When we set off each day we navigated to the custom map on our phone (via the “Your Places” menu item in the Googlemaps app) and zoomed in on the section we were intending to complete
  • GPS (i.e. seeing where you are via the blue dot on the map) still works in Airplane mode so we turned this on to massively save battery (it was occasionally necessary to reconnect and reload the route from the internet)
  • For tracking, we installed Komoot (an excellent app) on our iPad (which we took with us mainly to watch TV on in the evenings!)
  • Each morning we turned on Komoot tracking (with the iPad also in Airplane mode to save battery) and put it in a rear pannier
  • We then checked Komoot on the iPad each evening to see our exact completed route and distance covered/average speed etc.

Terrains and landscapes

After the initial greenways from Roscoff, much of the first section of the route takes place on the Brest-Nantes canal. This had the benefit of being entirely flat (as is pretty much the whole route), and with gorgeous autumnal colours.

The autumn sun along the canal was delightful

One part to watch out for is the cycle into Nantes. We massively under-estimated the 2 hours of urban cycling that would be required at the cold, wet and dark end of our longest day’s cycling (Nantes itself was great! Especially Les Machines).

After Nantes the route goes via the Loire estuary to reach the Atlantic coast. The town of Pornic was a real treat (unlike many of the coastal towns we encountered, it was surprisingly lively in mid-November).

Lots of the coast in the middle part of the ride is dedicated to oyster bays, with lots of charming huts and a blurred line between land and sea (a few of the days were very windy when not under the protection of forest!).

It was when we got to Ile de Noirmoutier and beyond that the scenery really came alive. From long sandy beaches through to amazing forests, we felt really immersed in nature, and it often felt like late summer rather than early winter.

At times it felt like we had entire forests to ourselves

As we got further south, the occasional delightful stretch of forest turned into the expansive Landes, which it often felt we had entirely to ourselves (not the case in the height of summer when the route is very popular). We got an especially good view from the top of the Dune of Pilat, the largest sand dune in Europe.

On top of Pilat/Pyla sand dune. This view shows the Atlantic coast to the West, with the expansive forest of the Landes visible on the other side (not shown in this picture).

Eventually we entered the Basque country as the trip started to draw to a close with lots of dramatic waves coming in from the Atlantic. The final day included the biggest elevation, as we skirted around the Pyrennes on the coast at Biarittz.

A stretch of beach near Capbreton at the start of the Basque country.

The Spanish Basque country

The Velodyssée route continues further into Spain (not along the coast) but we’d decided to visit a friend near San Sebastian before taking the ferry home from Santander.

Rather than cycle along main roads in Spain (which was the only practical option when not on a EuroVelo route), we took our bikes on trains after we crossed the France/Spain border at Hendaye/Irun, and we had a lovely week in San Sebastian and the Basque countryside.

The rail network in the Spanish Basque country is called Euskotren, and confusingly the timetables are generally only available on their own website (checking on Renfe.com or elsewhere often yields scarily few results because they only show the small number of high-speed trains that pass through Basque towns).

It’s possible to take bikes on all Euskotren trains without booking in advance, and there was plenty of room (though we did find that the straps we brought with us came in very handy to stop the bikes falling over so we could sit down without constantly watching them).

Home from Santander

Santander is a lovely city (we paddled in the sea and ate outside in the sun on 2nd December!) but we wish the same could be said for the 28 hour crossing back to Portsmouth. The Bay of Bisquay is notoriously choppy, and it lived up to its reputation. Not for the faint-stomached!

All in all it was an excellent trip, full of nature and far from miserable weather-wise despite it being November. A great introduction to bike touring, and one that left us feeling free and thirsty for more. Hopefully this post has been helpful for anyone thinking of doing something similar!

Freedom

In my gym there are multiple TV monitors playing subtitled programmes, and for weeks last year they were broken. They would flicker between frames and often freeze entirely.

Over time I came to think fondly of these humble screens. I imagined their refusal to function as a dignified protest against their human overlords.

Oh, the exhaustion of churning out a relentless cycle of subtitled news and sitcoms! And the sweet relief of snatching even the briefest moment of pause.

This coincided with a period of huge change for me, as I finally left the startup I had poured my energy into for over a decade. 

I was experiencing a strange mix of emotions. I mourned the loss of purpose and control, but savoured finally being rid of the all-consuming stress that had engulfed my life for so many years.

After a few weeks, one of the monitors in the gym settled on a single unchanging screen:

Having the freedom to do anything I want has been wonderful

An appreciative message reflective of the dignity it had afforded itself through its period of quiet defiance. But nonetheless hinting at a stoic acceptance of its ultimate fate. The next day the screens were back to normal.

I’ve also been truly appreciative of the freedom I’ve had recently. But am I resigned to the same fate as the monitors?

It would be easy to get sucked back into the relentless cycle of work that has that characterised so much of my life in the last ten years.

It would also be easy to be resigned to the futility of resisting “always on” technology.

However, unlike the TV monitors and their enslaved existence, my sister Kate and I built Loco2 with purpose and agency, and we leave in a hugely privileged position.

I have my freedom. The question is, what am I going to do with it?

Also published on Medium here (link below is broken!).