“Spray to disable to protect” swam into my mind as I watched the Fantastic Four battle against villainy because a fight broke out in the cinema. A huge man with dread-inducing dreadlocks was raining punches down on a man who had had the temerity to tell him to stop talking.
Naturally, everyone turned into a superhero: “Pow! I am Mighty Englishman, be amazed by my awesome selective deafness and tunnel vision. With the power of my mind I don’t see or hear anything unpleasant. Marvel at my hyper-inactivity Wooosh!”
The fight fizzled out when the aggressor’s posse of trackie-clad girlfriends dragged him away, screeching “Michael, be the bigger man. ’E’s not worf it”. Michael then had his final flourish in front of the rabbit-like audience: “I want ’im. Outside you t***!” (What did thugs, and their admirers, say before they learnt their lines from The Bill? Perhaps they spoke 1920s gangsterese after watching too many Al Capone movies?) And that was it, another nasty little example of the underclass creeping out from the cracks in our society. All that was left hanging in the air was that unsettling atmosphere of violence and guilt. Guilt that in an audience of strapping young men, none had the guts to intervene.
Most of us are public-spirited, want to do the right thing and prove we’re made of the right stuff. But most of us flunk it when the call for courage comes. We are rational creatures and calculate the risks. Why wade in, why resist, why make a stand when you don’t know what the aggressor is capable of and whether he has a knife or worse?
That’s the nub. The law-abiding citizen when confronted with a snarling example of criminality is at a disadvantage. One is armed, the other not. That’s why the words “spray to disable to protect” came to mind. A burst of pepper spray in Michael’s face would have stopped his violence and been a small victory for civil society. No doubt, with our super powers we could have blanked his cries of agony and enjoyed the rest of the movie But carrying CS gas canisters, or Mace teargas, or pepper spray, is against the law. A woman with a self-defence spray in her handbag is deemed to be carrying an offensive weapon. This is a nonsense.
We have a moral right to defend our life, liberty and property. We also have a legal right to self-defence so long as we use “reasonable force”. But the law makes it impossible for people to make sensible preparations for their own protection on the streets.
Pepper spray, for example, causes no permanent damage; surely then it should be “reasonable force” to use it in self-defence? It is an irritant that causes severe pain when it makes contact with the skin. It inflames the mucous membranes of the eyes, nose, throat and lungs, and it causes the eyes to swell shut, loss of balance and breathing difficulties. It is nasty, but the effects last just 30 to 45 minutes; enough time to get the help of the police, our professional law-enforcers.
It should not be beyond the wit of our lawmakers — men who legislate on the right height for hedges and how powerful a toilet flush can be — to give us legal grounds for such sprays: which types can be used, who can carry them, where they can be used, who can sell them and so on. If the politicians don’t feel up to the task, they could set up OffSpray.
But, I hear you say, what’s to stop criminals from using CS gas against innocent people? Nothing, but then crooks have a habit of using offensive weapons, regardless of their legal status, against blameless citizens. And misusing a spray or using it offensively could still count as a crime.
Others object that if people fight back, more incidents might escalate into violence. Instead, we should follow the Met’s advice of flight, not fight. But the result of this advice is not virtuous; it means that neighbourhoods are ceded to hoodlums, making the streets ever more vicious.
There is more wisdom on a National Rifle Association bumper sticker, that bogey figure for US liberal-lefties. It reads: “An armed society is a polite society.” A person with malign intentions is less likely to abuse people or treat them roughly because of the simple, brute fact that they may carry a concealed weapon. The fear of righteous retaliation restrains those who have no self-restraint.
Clint Eastwood, in Dirty Harry, says: “You’ve got to ask yourself a question: ‘Do I feel lucky?’ Well, do ya punk?” We must change the odds so our “punks” don’t feel so lucky.
Brand of nonsense
WHEN I saw yesterday’s Times front page splash,“Britain to brand ethnic minorities”, I thought, that’s a tad controversial.
Branding people on their foreheads for ID purposes would be difficult to square with the Human Rights Act and not popular with everyone, but credit where credit is due, new Labour is thinking boldly.
Then I realised it said “rebrand”. I thought, my God, the Government is going to do something silly — such as recall Peter Mandelson from Brussels and appoint him a roving Style Czar. Can you imagine it? “Hello, Chinese community, well done for being so hardworking. But let’s face it, that makes you rather dull. Why not wear more orange, get out more — perhaps join a salsa or a tapdancing class? It would be great for your image.”
But no. Hazel Blears, the Home Office Minister, was proposing something even sillier: renaming Asian citizens as “Asian-British” to strengthen the bonds of loyalty. That’s right: spraying on a new name will really deal with the deep-seated difficulties of cultural integration.
Flay-the-gays day?
IRONY of ironies, Northern Ireland may host Britain’s first gay “marriage”. The Civil Partnership Act comes into force on December 5 and owing to an administrative quirk the notice period for a ceremony is 14 days in the province, one day less than in England, Scotland and Wales.
In 1977 Ian Paisley launched his barking “Save Ulster from Sodomy” campaign; surely, the province’s leading democratic politician must start a “Save Ulster from Gay Romance” campaign? Backdoor sex is a thing that everyone can embrace enthusiastically, but Northern Ireland is not ready for powder-blue frilly wedding suits, fleets of pink cadillacs and that great Streisand/Celine Dion power duet Tell Him. . . played at full blast across a hundred provincial community halls.
High-ho silver lining
EVERY week we discover that cannabis is good at easing aches and pains. But we also know that cannabis has a deleterious effect on the still-unformed minds of teenagers. So why doesn’t the Government cease its absurd war on drugs and confiscate cannabis from young people whom it might harm and redistribute it to senior citizens. It would also have a happy side-effect of making daytime TV a lot more enjoyable for OAPs. Joined-up government is so easy.
robbie.millen@thetimes.co.uk
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