
No, this post isn't about long-standing allegations that
Morrisey is racist, or his unfortunate association with English nationalism; let's not go there. Instead it's partly about my experience at last week's
Moz gig at Perth's Concert Hall, the first in his 2011 tour.
Sat up in the balcony I extracted my elderly low-tech mobile phone to take a couple of photos, which seems to be accepted practice at such events these days. Although such photos that I've taken in the past are usually blurred and generally of poor quality, I knew that if I took a few then the camera's
autofocus would get it right once or twice, despite its difficulty in doing so in such poor light scenarios.
But before I'd managed to take more than a couple a member of staff had put a halt to my endeavours. Which was doubly annoying because there were plenty of other people taking photos and videos unhindered, and many of the
latter can be found on YouTube. Indeed, I wouldn't be surprised if quite a few people managed to video the whole gig, and using equipment self-evidently far more sophisticated than my own.
I daresay others were also stopped from recording the event, but there was certainly significantly more evidence of people flouting the ban - assuming one actually existed - than of staff stopping them.
So why was I 'persecuted' in this way, to use the language often deployed by those subject to selective or arbitrary law enforcement.
Of course, in the wider context of law enforcement such behaviour can be rationalised in several different ways. For example, political posturing; to provide a more general deterrent; the 'revenue raising' argument when a fine is levied; a box-ticking exercise; the 'easy target' scenario; or perhaps arbitrary enforcement based on something like racism (or, as a corollary, avoiding enforcement against someone who might 'play the race card'). Or perhaps the individual or agency performing the enforcement is untypically zealous - the 'little Hitler'-style scenario - or poor communication means that they lack awareness of the rules being policed or established enforcement practice.
Hence at Perth's Concert Hall there was clearly no revenue raising rationale and there didn't seem to be much in the way of a general deterrent. Thus perhaps sat near the end of the aisle I was an easy target, while those near to the stage in the standing area downstairs - where there was clearly plenty of video recording going on - were a more difficult proposition as regards being brought to book. Perhaps the member of staff was ignorant of the rules and enforcement practice, had an attitude problem or just didn't like the cut of my jib.
All of which brings to mind the Government's crackdown on sectarianism, and in particular the much-maligned bill currently making its way through the
Holyrood legislative process at a pace that by the usual standards of these things seems positively frenetic.
The learned
Peat Worrier has expressed his extreme legal and political scepticism on the proposed law over several posts, an
excoriative Alex
Massie examines the bill in the context of sectarian sing-songs, while Ideas of Civilisation
highlights the unseemly political haste regarding the process. Last week academic Stuart
Waiton (no
misspelt relation!)
lambasted the proposals from a libertarian perspective, while yesterday's
Scotsman lead
story examined the possibility that singing God Save the Queen or Flower of Scotland could come within the ambit of the proposed offence of offensive sectarian behavior (rather than offending against good taste!). Kenneth Roy of the
Scottish Review represents a rare voice among the
commentariat in actually supporting the measure.
But the political context of the bill and the obvious difficulties regarding definition and enforcement perhaps suggests that the legislation is more about
kneejerk political posturing and subsequent gesture policing as a reaction to a few adverse newspaper headlines during a particular period rather than genuinely attempting to address the problem. Indeed, that's not to say that the politicians aren't genuine in their intent - for example, thinking that the law per
se would provide sufficient deterrent without much enforcement required (like the smoking ban in pubs, say) - but the obvious lack of clarity about how the new law would be enforced in practice perhaps demonstrates that it mightn't be enforced much at all.
And as regards any enforcement per
se it could well be largely similar to the
Morrissey scenario, thus while most carry on with their sectarian misbehaviour regardless, one or two individuals will be picked on to prove some kind of political/policing point and will thus feel persecuted and resentful. In effect, then, the legislation could serve little useful purpose other than to make the authorities look as if they're doing something - anything - and by the same token they will subsequently do their best to portray the introduction of the measure as a resounding success.
Also interesting is to assume that ongoing law enforcement difficulties in this regard could be addressed by the new law, and to compare this to the
SNP's approach to another - and not unrelated - of Scotland's major problems, namely that of alcohol abuse and related crime.
Thus in the latter case the approach is not to deal with enforcement difficulties regarding longstanding laws, but instead to take an indirect approach to the problem by way of minimum pricing for alcohol.
In the context of football-related sectarianism the equivalent approach might be to raise the gate prices of Old Firm matches or the level of Sky Sports subscriptions. Which might alleviate the problem of sectarianism slightly - indeed perhaps more so than the proposed law would in practice - but in the wider context of the problem would be next to useless.
And indeed whenever the words crackdown or clampdown are associated with a particular issue it often alludes to years of failure to address a problem and then a portrayal that the powers that be are doing everyone a favour by riding to the rescue, only for things to revert to normal in short order. Until the next crackdown, that is.
But of course there's no end to posturing and gestures in politics.
(The
Morrissey photo - not that you can tell! - represents the best of my efforts before I was rudely interrupted. Incidentally, I last saw him live as
frontman of The Smiths in Dundee the best part of 30 years ago. Which thought makes me feel very old! And no comments please suggesting a link between
Morrissey and this
blog's '
miserablism', as Gerry
Hassan might term it!)