On Autumn, and Growing Older

Growing older is an unquestionably sad enterprise. Like the leaf on the tree, we admire our blossoming beauty as we mature. We marvel at the artistry as we see ourselves, and our peers grow yellow, brown, and red. How spectacular, how perfectly inevitable it is when the leaves are blown off in a winter wind. For conscious creatures such as ourselves, with our rich and seemingly eternal inner lives, this cycle can be difficult to weather.

Each of us burst through the unlikely soils of this Earth, sprung leaves of optimistic green and shot for sunlight. Those taller than us, those whose dark leaves shaded our own, remarked at our ability to thrive. To grow. We ourselves were not sure what kind of tree, or plant, or flower we would even be. We just grew, exceeding all expectations with every passing day.

Now we all reach an age when we are mature, when we are as green as we can be. As big as we will be. As tall as we can grow. At this stage comes a difficult realisation. I am what I am. I am what I have always been becoming, and what I always would be. No longer can I delay the moment of assessment with the excuse that I am still growing up. And what am I? Am I what I wanted to be? When plants grow, they seldom follow a strict path, they just shoot upwards. And don’t all of us? Wander forwards until we reach such a point as to stop, and take a look around?

For me, this moment was the moment it truly resonated with me that we have no control over our lives. And before you argue, think about it. Our decisions are made by our brains, which were made by our parents and then molded by experience. That experience is created by the world around us, which is full of randomly colliding figures all operating on just as formulaic a set of impulses.

Without the blinding effect of youth and optimism, it becomes clear that if our current state is inevitable, the rich maturity  of summer, then inevitable too is the brittle darkness of winter. And at this stage it seems difficult to see a point in the whole swirling dance.

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Why Corbyn’s Greatest Strength Could Lose Him The Election.

Who could have predicted our current Political situation? As Westminster whirred to life following the pretty unremarkable summer months, a predictable path was set. For Labour leader, surely Andy Burnham would triumph as the dark haired, white skinned suit capable of giving a convincing speech in roughly the centre ground. Journalists yawned over morning coffees as they prepared the story- ‘Burnham Leads Labour Party’, and we all attempted to be a little bit excited by a vision for the future that just seemed a bit…predictable. In the light of Cameron’s declaration he will stand down at the end of this government, a 2020 Labour win seemed at least plausible, and at most pretty likely.

But then, something happened. A movement which captured the imaginations of citizens previously uninspired by the Labour party coughed up their three quid and swept Corbyn to victory with an astonishing 60% of the vote. Suddenly, people were talking politics. Here, at last, was a figure interesting enough, distinguished from the slippery Centre ground in a way which people appreciate, a knack that only Farage has really nailed in recent years. Corbyn’s values are clear, Left Wing with a pacifist colouring, liberal and somehow (and to use Corbyn’s own term) decent. Agree or disagree, his beliefs are his beliefs, and, if his categorical No on the Trident question is anything to go by, he is sticking to them openly.

Now, voter apathy is rarely caused by divisive figures. Just over a third of the population didn’t vote in the last election- a figure I believe is caused in part by the ever increasing sameness of  the candidates. I mean come on, lets look at Cameron, Miliband, and Clegg – all clean shaven, dark haired mid 40s white men to start with (is this some sort of formula for leadership?). And when they opened their mouths, it was often hard to really distinguish the viewpoints and pick a candidate that felt truly representative, or even truly passionate, about a viewpoint. Promises felt there to be broken, petty squabbles marred the leader debates. Where was the honest politics? The opinions formed over a lifetime and then firmly, and passionately shared? The politics that say, I’m a human being, not a well trained automaton.  

Therein lies Corbyn’s appeal. Sure he’s a little fluffier than the politicians we are used to, with his talk of ‘kinder politics’, and I suppose, the beard. But there is something that Corbyn has that sets him ahead of his rivals- voters trust what he says. And they trust him purely because he is human, untrained, untheatrical- just a person with a point of view. And isn’t that what politics is all about?

Apparently not, according to some of Labours own MPs. “Leadership,” Said Corbyn at the Party Conference, “Is about listening.” And it was this sentiment that MPs were openly conveying when Corbyn let the Nuclear cat out of the bag- before the Labour party had even discussed the subject. Corbyn, many complain, is simply too singular, too independent, too set in his ways, to be a good leader. One Labour MP appeared on Question Time and said that in fact, Leadership is about compromise. And this is something Corbyn needs to learn if he wants to unite the party.

Perhaps this is true. Perhaps Corbyn cannot become Prime Minister without broadening his appeal. Perhaps he should be trained, his message diluted, his rhetoric vaguer. That would probably be the safe option. But maybe, just maybe, the British people are sick of compromise. Maybe they are jaded by politicians who say one thing and do another (after all, it isn’t truly a democracy if you are voted in on lies, surely). Corbyn can be read like a book, and many people don’t like what the book says. But I’ll bet there are a fair few voters who are relieved to be holding a book of Fact, and not Fiction. Corbyn’s leadership represents a change of tone in British politics, and I for one will be glued to the page.