Have We Entered ‘The Age of The Child’?

We live in ages that artificially define history. The Stone Age is measured in millions of years, the Bronze Age in thousands, the Iron Age in hundreds. As human endeavour and progress take hold, these eras get more focused, compressing the sweep of history.

After the prehistoric ages, as discoveries tumble like dominoes and human thought is written down and catalogued, the world gets smaller. Myths and stories begin to echo across time and space. Progress is measured not in millenia, but centuries. The modern world is being forged by “great men”: tyrannts, despots, kings & dictators. And with great empires comes great wealth, new ideas and the resources to pursue them.

After medieval pain, the world as we know it was birthed, one in which “the many” began to find their voice. Eventually “great men” receded and societies took their place. Men (yes, it’s still largely men at this point) learned that strength lay in the harnessing of collective will. There were setbacks, spasms of great fear and unimaginable evil, as democracy wrestled itself into existence. And yet, as we reach The Modern Age, our leaders became normalised. The scales fell from our eyes and we realised our rulers were humans too. While the “great men” of the past painted their deeds on vast canvases, world leaders in modern times have been relegated to applying delicate touch-ups to the works of their predecessors.

And yet, recently this evolution has continued apace, as if turbocharged by the engine, guided by laser, transmitted fibre-optically. A strange phenomenon is unfolding: this shrinkage, the diminishing aura of power, has grown. And we too are diminished. Never has the citizen had more potential to change the course of history, and yet never has that citizen shirked his duty to do so more. The democratisation of speech, where everyone has a say (especially those with nothing to say) has rendered society a veritable Babylon.

After The Age of the Individual, I believe we have just entered The Age of the Child. At our best, we are playful and inquisitive, at least as far as our attention spans allow. We gleefully seek out new experiences. But we’re fickle, slaves to fads and fashions. We are dependent on others, but we hold those who we depend on to high standards. We are often selfish, led by our appetites. We are vengeful and petty, seeking retribution for every slight. We revel in revolution. We’re naive, easily duped, rendered guileless by forces programmed to commoditise us.

First technology amazed us, now it is hypnotising us, soon it will utterly enslave us.

And so, what now Democracy? What does it mean? What does it stand for? Its founders spoke about “Government of the people, by the people, for the people”; of responsibility, accountability and transparency. Democracy therefore applies to us, just as much as it does to our leaders. Democracy demands the responsible involvement of its citizens. It depends on it. But have we lost sight of this vital tenet of democracy?

Whilst we rage at their inability to be competent, to speak for us, to uphold standards of decency and principals of morality, we have blithely tossed these things aside ourselves. We have abdicated our democratic responsibilities: to be informed, to seek truth, to protect the weak, to bravely defend its central values and inalienable rights. We live in an age of crushing hypocrisy.

We stamp our feet to the drum of free speech while we file into polling booths to elect neo fascists. We wail at government excess and wanton scandal as we bow to our corrupt masters. We decry the Gods of globalism as we hand over the keys of power to oligarchs.

* * * * *

Imagine democratic countries as grand old houses which sit in beautifully tended gardens. For years the people roamed about these parks. We reverently visited these museums of power, wondering at the works of historical significance that lined the hallways. They belonged to us, and for a time we loved them.

Now we have handed over the keys to a cabal of little boys. They run amok, defiling the fixtures and fittings, ransacking the halls and corridors, mocking the portraits of the men and women who built them. And rather than protect these treasures, we crowd behind locked gates, goading on these brats.

Why did we hand them the keys?

They told us these houses had grown outdated, that they no longer represented the essence of who we were: ‘The House is falling apart! Democracy is a rusted cage to which you have been enslaved! Free yourselves!’ We ushered them inside, gasping to be entertained by their cruel disregard of what came before, willing them on in their wanton destruction.

This is Trump’s self-proclaimed Golden Age.

(This is a man who, lest we forget, squats on a golden toilet, so you should take what he says with a pinch of salt.)

This is the Age of the Child. We have been reverse-evolved into gibbering infants. While the Confederacy of Dunces frolics within the halls of power, planting the superficial saplings of populist spite, we cheer on from the play-pen in the corner.

We didn’t realise that Democracy was not a prison. We didn’t realise that Democracy gave us power. Or we took that power for granted. What the little boys did was bring us down to their level. They made us fear what they feared. They passed on their nightmares to us.

In time we will realise our plight. In time, the boy kings will grow bored and ignore us. The cot’s bars will grow loose, the legs will splinter and the frame will crack. One day the guard rails of our self-imposed prison will crumble…

* * * * *

If history teaches us anything, it’s that wanton and bigoted public discourse usually prelude acts of wanton public aggression. The vicious cycle has begun. For leaders whose sole aim is to maintain power, there comes a point when they have to carry out the grotesque viciousness they have been crowing about. 

The two things such populists usually can’t stand: humour and truth are both priceless commodities. Elon Musk talks about maintaining open platforms so that we can continue to be funny. Thing is, he can’t laugh at himself, which is the prerequisite for having a sense of humour.

It’s not often a good idea to call the electorate stupid. 

Political parties have traditionally carved niches within certain sections of the populace, hoping to attract their interest and support. They do this in a number of ways, ranging from doorstep outreach to digital advertising. It’s about policies, values and inducements. It takes time, money and planning to get it right. It can all come tumbling down in an instant, which is why politicians and party operatives are often on a tight leash.

None of the above usually works if you call the electorate stupid. Even if they are dim, you wouldn’t want to insult people who could vote you into power. Why would you do such a thing? You would want to do the opposite: soothe, hail and flatter them. Butter them up a bit.

But what if the electorate are stupid? What if you can see them falling for every trap laid by cynical and ruthless opponents? What if you know the sweet nectar they are drinking is in fact poisonous misinformation?

You’ve spent months (if not years) telling them the facts and you’ve explained why they’re mistaken. You’ve done it carefully, soberly and honestly. Yes, of course you want to be elected, but that’s only because you can see the wanton destruction that’ll come if others crowbar themselves into power.

What if you can see the gullible, lowing fools for what they are? What if the media makes your solid, costed and rather progressive manifesto out to be a bonfire of vanities? What if social media has “the people” on a never-ending diet of conspiracy and provocation.

Because nastiness is now the default setting. “Othering” isn’t a tactic, it’s a way of life. And when lies come, they come not single spies but in battalions. There’s the Musk lie (acceptable because it makes him laugh), the lie so blatant you’ll put it on the side of a bus, the “Big” lie, the quick lie, the tactical omission, the egregious (but tardily corrected) lie. 

So where does that leave truth? If truth was hard to find before, now we’re talking needle in a hay field. This is the genius of populism: it holds you to your standard while it does away with principle. 

Government is governance, a process that makes life bearable and fair. We’re entering an age where the world wants us to turn into feral dogs and howl at the moon so we stop noticing what the corporates are doing to us. It’s kind of the oldest trick in the book. A bait and switch of totalitarian proportions.