Snitch Britain

Further to yesterday’s post on the water shortage informers, the Grauniad picks up the story:

Hidden beneath the tranquil surface of the south-east’s pony paddocks and quiet hedgerows, a troubled people are secretly seething. Curtains are twitching and plans of sweet revenge are being hatched. Residents are queueing up to inform on neighbours. In short, England is turning into a nation of snitches.

Good start – nice use of the word “snitches” as it provides just the right level of negative undertone. Then it goes downhill rather:

Even tiny Folkestone and Dover Water, which services 65,000 households, has taken three calls since its ban began last week. Unfortunately, all three reported fellow villagers for actions not actually banned. Still, hats off for laudable civic mindedness.*
(* My emphasis)

What the fuck?! Snitching on ones neighbours for doing nothing wrong is not, by any remote stretch of a fevered, over active imagination, civic mindedness! It is nasty, vile, petty, spiteful, nosy, interfering tittle-tattling. Civic mindedness, it most certainly is not. Jesus H Christ on an inverted pogo stick! What is wrong with these people?

Paula Campbell, a spokeswoman for Three Valleys Water, which services 3m households in north London and the home counties, says its best informant is a “very keen” woman who increases the scope of her surveillance by snooping as she takes her daily jog. (“She says she is exhausted from all the running,” Ms Campbell report). Gardeners on her route beware – she has shopped several since the ban began just over a week ago, and is on the lookout for more. It is not known whether “supergrass” showers, or for how long, on her return home.

This woman is not to be lauded – she is as described in my previous paragraph – everything to be despised about modern Britain. Has she nothing better to do? Clearly not. The Gestapo would have been pleased with her efforts. They would probably have promoted her.

When a state slides into totalitarianism, those petty individuals who are otherwise unremarkable and unfulfilled, seize an opportunity to further themselves at the expense of others. There is power to be had and these nonentities grasp it with avaricious claws; these small, petty people who otherwise lack the talent and ability to become noteworthy for their own achievements. History is repeating itself and it is not a pretty sight. Britain is rapidly becoming a place where I don’t want to live. My grandfathers’ generation’s sacrifice is being betrayed by its inheritors.

“We are not trying to be Big Brother in terms of of policing,” Ms Campbell says.

That is almost funny… Almost.

Apparently the Australians have been doing this for some while. The footnote to the article cites an online discussion about dobbing in a water wastrel:

“Tell your neighbour that their garden is completely unsuitable in terms of water consumption and that it shouldn’t take priority over people,” he exhorts. “Then tell them to expect a fine in the post. In fact, just give me their details and I will dob them in.”

To which “Margie” responds, rather sagely: “Just be careful that he doesn’t dob you in for something in turn.”

That tends to be a lesson learned the hard way.

[Update] I see that Mr Eugenidies has his own preferred solution to Ms Supergrass:

In any civilised country, of course, this woman would have been found hanging from a length of garden hose days ago.

 

Now playing: The Moody Blues – I Know You’re Out There Somewhere