The Food Hall Apocalypse is nigh!
DOMINIC ADLER
“I’m gonna burn this goddam Policing by Consent right down!”
What of the “Battle of Clapham”, the orgy of retail crime which so excited social media last week? It took rampaging hordes of youths, gleefully pillaging the flagship M&S food hall in London’s “Nappy Valley” to finally alert London’s media classes to the reality of consequence-free theft, not to mention the erosion of basic property rights by the progressive hive mind.
A few coppers stood helplessly by, painfully aware of the hopelessly permissive environment they’re forced to suffer. Meanwhile, news emerged – like a fart in a spacesuit – of Labour’s new Sentencing Act, abolishing short prison sentences and releasing 12,000 hardcore shoplifters back on the streets. That’s the difference a Labour government makes (etc).
And so anarcho-tyranny, an everyday feature of working-class life in Sunderland or Wolverhampton or the Medway Towns, suddenly became existential. Why? Because a coveted southwest London postcode saw heritage tomatoes, picky bits and Colin the Caterpillar in peril.
This isn’t just civilizational decline, this is M&S civilizational decline.
Let’s talk about Race, Baby…
The battle lines were soon drawn, with the thorny issue of race to the fore. The majority of kids involved in this incident were black – either African or Afro-Caribbean. Kemi Badenoch weighed in, suggesting ethnicity was a red herring and you didn’t see these problems in parts of Africa. Er, no Kemi, that’s because in parts of Africa paramilitary cops armed with whips, guns and a complete absence of oversight are medieval with wrong-doers, unless of course they’re offered a fistful of dollars or a sleeve of cigarettes. Chris Bayliss, writing in The Critic, finessed Badenoch’s argument. Bayliss, for my money, offered a compelling analysis, noting:
[The] gatherings seemed to be more a form of entertainment and a result of boredom. The shoplifting that went on had little to do with the goods themselves or their potential value on the black market, and more to do with demonstrating that the shoplifter could take what they wanted and there was nothing that anybody could do about it.
As for race? Bayliss suggests:
The predominantly black youths we saw congregating in Clapham belong to a sub-culture that is very clearly distinct from that of most of the rest of the country. They speak in a sociolect that is so specific it can often be difficult to tell that it is based on English, and as we witnessed this week, appear to be motivated by things that the general public would struggle to understand. To at least some extent, they regard the rest of the British population as “other”, to use the language of critical theory.
Consequence-free environments are consequence-free environments. “Retail riots” usually see humans of all persuasions helping themselves. My favourite is this very Northern English (white) Greggs Raider, liberating sausage rolls during the post-Southport disturbances.
The United Colours of Rioting.
Besides, anyone who knows London will be aware Clapham has a predominantly black population. It also sits on the Northern Line and, of course, one of the UK’s busiest railway stations. The neighbourhood’s easily reached from the Mordor-like Croydon / Lambeth borders. Given the urban demographics? I’d have been surprised if the mob hadn’t been predominantly black.
No, the significance here is the affluent whiteness of the gentrified streets adjacent Clapham Junction, which is possibly why the story gained traction. Virtually every middle-class (which is to say 95%) London-based journalist, commentator and content creator will have been to a bar, club or restaurant in SW4, 8, 9 or 12.
So, for me, the racial dynamic is relevant, but also grift-to-the-mill for the usual suspects on both Left and Right. Of course, there’s another debate to be had concerning police sensitivity towards racism allegations, which I’ll touch upon later.
Youth clubs, innit?
That’ll sort it, Sadiq! Note: youths as depicted by BBC are demographically unrepresentative for some reason.
The hoary old chestnut of youth engagement soon reappeared, the centrist-dad answer being table tennis and Friday night discos (carriages at 9pm). This article, by our friends over at The Guardian, was presumably written via the AI prompt “create a piece so lamentably predictable it reads like a parody.”
Dr Tania de St Croix, a senior lecturer in the sociology of youth and childhood at King’s College London, said the reaction to the Clapham link-up was “exaggerated” and an example of moral panic. “I can imagine for some bystanders, including young people working at restaurants and in shops, it might have felt scary,” she said. “But the public reaction and the language of ‘swarming’ and gangs of ‘feral teens’ is demonising young people unfairly.”
Most police officers know law enforcement is a business requiring carrots and sticks. I’m all for giving kids stuff to do – training, education, mentoring, leisure activities etc. I’m also all for relentlessly policing wrong ‘uns and, where necessary, punishing them. Up to, and including, locking people up (except we’ve got rid of short prison sentences, remember?).
Only a fool would deny the interconnectedness of policing, education, social services, probation and so on. Yet the balance is skewed. There aren’t many carrots or sticks for anyone, to be fair, but given the choice? Our progressive overlords would rather fund carrots. As London’s Mayor promised more cash for youth “engagement” he actually had the temerity to suggest he’d deploy “Zero Tolerance” policing. I almost choked on my M&S Colin the Caterpillar cake! Zero Tolerance? It’s more or less illegal in Khan’s London, and he knows it. Chutzpah on stilts.
Meanwhile, elsewhere in London, the stabbings continued.
Officer, have you thought about starting a youth club?
The Unbearable Lightness of Policing
In the M&S food hall, like supply teachers trying to control an amphetamine-fuelled remedial class, two hapless constables watched kids a-plundering. Trapped in a strange amalgam of Supermarket Sweep and Lord of The Flies, the coppers could be forgiven for thinking, “what’s the fucking point?” Outside, waves of feral scumbags (apologies to Dr Tania de St Croix, obvs) enjoyed what students of anarchist theory might describe as a “Temporary Autonomous Zone.”
Meanwhile, the Internet wondered: how did we get here? Pub bores suggested officers might be happier policing tweets, or dancing at Pride parades (any merit these arguments hold have become as overheated as football ground meat pies).
So, for the avoidance of doubt, I’ll offer the short version. During the austerity years of 2012 onwards, police forces were forced to make unenviable decisions around resource management. Furthermore, they were caught in a pincer movement: New Labour’s legacy was a phalanx of progressive, statue-style law restricting officer discretion, married to a similarly leftish culture shift. Then, from the Cameron-era right, came an obsession with cuts, managerialism and performance management. Crucially, though, the Cameron Tories did nothing to mitigate Blairite political correctness. Indeed, under Theresa May, they doubled down on it.
The result?
In London, then-Commissioner (now Lord) Bernard Hogan-Howe decided to protect the Metropolitan Police’s precious specialist units, the jewels in the Met’s crown. But what used to be known as ‘TP’, or Territorial Policing, responsible for neighbourhood and response policing? It was decimated. Police geographical areas of responsibility were made impossibly large, into ‘Basic Command Units’ comprising of three or entire London boroughs. Hogan-Howe brought in flunkies from provincial forces, who closed police stations and created centralised custody units – these county coppers seemed ignorant of how long it takes to drive a prisoner from, say, Uxbridge to Wandsworth during rush hour. Now, the Met’s footprint has shrunk. London has only two 24-hour public access points (Charing Cross and Lewisham police stations) open, for a city of over nine million people.
That is fucking scandalous.
The result? The police, when not attending endless demonstrations, are now reduced to racing from incident to incident, usually involving an ever-needy underclass demanding the State wipe their arses for them. Officers have no discretion in problem-solving, instead reliant on progressive dogma disguised as “Accredited Professional Practice.” Meanwhile, screw-ups are habitually dismissed by mafia-like senior officers.
The Reality
Clapham is the reality, which is to say if anyone wants to arrange a consequence-free looting event online, they can. I suppose it’s a testament to the innate decency of the majority this stuff doesn’t happen more often. Yet, in benighted parts of many cities, this is another “new normal.” Microclimates, where we’re forced to pretend the concept of Policing by Consent still exists. The doltish denial of “No Go” areas. A refusal to accept minority enclaves are capable of manipulating forces into doing their bidding.
Our only hope? That in elite neighbourhoods and towns, travelling mobs come for the organic farmer’s markets. For Waitrose (the big ones, with in-store Sushi bars). For boutiques, selling novelties adorning Muswell Hill mantelpieces. For Hackney gastropubs, serving plant-based small plates. These are the cathedrals, altars and holy places our smugly indifferent masters hold dear.
Then maybe (and only maybe) will they realise something has to give.
This article (“It’s Murder on the Shop Floor”) was created and published by Dominic Adler and is republished here under “Fair Use”
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