doomscrolling

 doomscrolling

When you keep scrolling through all of your social media feeds, looking for the most recent upsetting news about the latest catastrophe. The amount of time spent doing this is directly proportional to how much worse you're going to feel after you're done.

 

 By nature I am a pessimist; I have also been called a cynic, with which I find it difficult to argue.

 

My pessimism is not helped by my habit of doomscrolling. The last few years have been fertile ground for doomscrolling (or doomsurfing, as it can also be termed); Brexit, Trump, and now coronavirus having dominated the news and social media. Each has provided more than enough, without sundry more minor content keeping the doom mongers ‘happy.’

 

The more I doomscroll – and I realise I started doing it long before I knew it had a name - and the deeper I delve into threads, comments, and replies, the worse it gets – there’s real anxiety brewing each time I click ‘Show this thread,’ or ‘Comment’ – especially on Twitter where the arguments are more persuasive, opposing views sometimes equally plausible. Facebook, on the other hand has a greater proportion of tin-foil hat wearing, certifiable nut-cases.

 

What is clear from my almost incessant doomscrolling is that there are dozens of people - hundreds, thousands even – who know exactly what the government are doing wrong (just about everything), but who never, ever, offer an alternative. Let’s face it, the views of experts – men and women with impeccable qualifications and years of experience in the field – are no match for the Karens and Kevins whose expertise is gleaned from Facebook, Google, and tabloid newspapers with sensational headlines backed up by bullshit.

 

Let’s be honest, we may have the worst government in living memory at exactly the worst time in recent history, but criticising their actions without offering a better alternative is not helpful, not practically nor in terms of our morale. Spreading outrageous conspiracy theories that will likely only make matters worse is indefensible.

 

I have often justified my pessimism (and on occasion I’ve had to, I’ve been chided about it by my wife often enough in the past) on the basis that it is based on (bitter) experience, and besides, pessimists are rarely disappointed. Being a pessimist is actually a positive state of mind, the upside (if that isn’t a contradiction in terms) is that some days, I am delighted to be proven wrong as something I have been expecting to be a disaster turns out to be not too bad at all.

 

Today, however is not a one of those days. Today, London and parts of Essex are to be moved into Tier 3 coronavirus restrictions. Given the alarming rise in new cases, this was inevitable – even the most ardent optimist must have expected it – and just in time for Christmas too, when we were supposedly all being allowed greater privileges, not that I was anticipating taking advantage anyway.

 

A couple of things struck me about the Christmas relaxation of restrictions. Firstly, given the tendency for people to take a mile when given an inch, it looked foolhardy (the much vaunted British common sense that some politicians have cited in recent months looks in short supply, and given a couple of glasses of anything alcoholic was likely to disappear completely). And secondly, where in any relaxation of restrictions is there any remote reference to following the science? It was recently revealed that the recent move to place a 10pm curfew on pubs and restaurants was a policy decision, not a scientific one.

 

The striking thing about each and every government announcement on coronavirus is how singular it is, rarely having any reference or relation to any previous measures, nor being taken into account in subsequent ones; how else to explain the refusal to walk back the Christmas relaxation of social distancing rules on the same day that London and parts of Essex and Hertfordshire join Kent in Tier 3? And how do Essex and Herts get split when Kent had to be treated as a single entity?

 

This tweet sums it up:

 

Still, Christmas – got to be saved, hasn’t it? No; it doesn’t. We don’t really celebrate Christmas in this country as a Christian festival, not on the whole. It’s almost entirely a purely commercial occasion, driven by present buying and excessive consumption of food and drink. There’s no real reason why we cannot put the non-religious elements of Christmas on hold and have the party to end them all when – eventually – we get to the other side of this pandemic.

 

So, Christmas being ‘saved’ is a commercial decision on one hand, and on the other, one which seeks to make the government popular and prevent dissent. Besides, it’s Christmas, people will flout the rules anyway, so why not sanction it?

 

I hear that Jeopardy is nice this time of year.

It would be hypocritical of me to criticise the government’s response to coronavirus without offering better alternatives but I do feel justified in criticising them for the inconsistency of their coronavirus restrictions and their failure to communicate any form of justification. Not being a doctor, an epidemiologist or a public health expert, I can’t speak for the science they claim to be following, but what I do see are mixed messages. We can’t mix with friends outdoors – even in our own garden – but we can in parks or on beaches, but not in sports grounds. Except that some sports grounds can have spectators, but others can’t – and some that can, can’t have spectators who support one of the teams, but only those who support the other one. It’s little wonder that people don’t follow the rules, even if we understand them; they are inconsistent and difficult to justify. It often feels as though when new regulations come along, no heed is paid to what they replace, and we get left with conflicting and contradictory rules that no one bothers to explain the logic behind.

 

My Christmas will be quiet. We don’t have a large family; we don’t go in for large gatherings any year. This Christmas isn’t going to be much different from any other, just fewer presents (at the time of writing I have bought the grand total of one gift; the prospects of a Christmas Eve raid on the local petrol station for some desperate last minute presents looms.)

 

I appreciate that just because my Christmases are usually low-key, and just because I am happy to tone it down still further this year, not everyone will think the same. I know that there are people who have not seen relatives very much this year and who are looking forward to celebrating the season with them. But there’s a balance to be struck. Is giving up a normal Christmas in 2020 a reasonable price to pay to ensure a normal one in 2021 and thereafter? Or is this Christmas so important that it’s worth putting up with longer and more stringent restrictions? Reading some posts on social media, it does appear that many people have a ‘live today, and hang the consequences,’ attitude.

 

This will probably be my last blog of 2020: it would have been nice to have ended the year on a more upbeat note, but c’est la vie. Let’s hope that in 2021 we can all get back to a more normal existence, and have fewer opportunities for doomscrolling.

 

Have as merry a Christmas as you can in the circumstances. Likewise, the New Year, when I resolve to try to reduce my doomscrolling.