All anybody wants to hear is their own version of the truth

In the week when some apparent disciple of Isis declared war on the children of Manchester, I’ve been busy upsetting the people of Facebook by having an opinion that challenges their deeply held , though potentially erroneous beliefs.

There’s a certain “joie de zero fucks’ when one is comfortably political neutral, currently between jobs (oh,  I’ve got one lined up) and is by nature both something of a provocateur. It’s not that I want to upset people by questioning their version of the truth (it’s impossible to change people’s minds in any case. They must be led to the water of truth via their own dawning realisation, rather than being forced to down it via an indigestible screed). But it’s so easy to surround ourselves with people, news sources, and quasi-info-ganda that prop up one’s own opinion that we are often blindsided to any other point of view. Which is why I quite like playing devil’s advocate.

The empirical truth, in any case, is a slippery little beast. And, without the benefit of big data to mine, and with a mind evolved for supposition and broad brush conclusions, to me, there are only a few hard facts from which we make reasonable assumptions about the future. These are: evolution by natural selection, and market forces, which have much in common – and are both,  in the illustrious words of Adam Smith, best “left the fuck alone”. But it’s on these inarguable forces, rather than on propaganda, or the blinkered base of organisationally-sponsored ‘evidence’, on which I base many of my arguments.

The problem is, not everybody gets this. At a recent wedding, having covered bitcoins (risky, but worth a punt – four years ago), free will (yawn) and whether or not the world is ruled by lizards, (rascist, apparently) I mentioned my own recent investment in Monzo.

This fintech banking app, recently known as Mondo (and whose failure to ascertain this name wasn’t already registered as a company trademark did cause me to ask questions about its organisational foresight) raised millions as part of a crowdfunding initiative, as well as raising significant capital through an investment firm owned by the brother of the husband of the daughter of Donald Trump, who’s son-in-law has also recently completed significant arms deals with Saudi Arabia, a country suspected of sponsoring the terrorists occasionally known as Isis. This could mean I’m partially responsible for what happened in Manchester. But only in so much as I’m invested in western capitalism. Most of us on this side of the world are, one way or another.

And if that doesn’t say something about who, therefore rules the world (banks, oil and weapons all ride high on the FTSE index, all propped up by governments invested in a capitalist agenda) I’m not sure what does, but let’s be clear – it’s a close-knit group.

But like any spurious argument (holding facts, rather than mere concepts – at my fingertips is not my forte) you’re never gonna win against someone who’s got their fingers firmly in their ears, singing ‘La la la, I’m not listening.’ Which is, sadly, most of us. Even my own mother refuses to countenance the other side of the argument when she posts questionable memes on Facebook – in this case, showcasing Theresa May’s #strongandstable response to the Manchester attacks, along with, bafflingly, a quote from the Trump himself, decrying terrorism in which, if you believe the evidence that the House of Saud sponsors terror, (please don’t cut my head off for saying this!) he is personally heavily invested.

“It was our foreign policy wot done it,” I typed, following up with a link to the number of civilians, many children, killed in Syria by US forces over recent weeks.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she argued back – which is a fucking ridiculous position if you’re going to pin your colours to your mast on a public social media forum. Perhaps that’s the point – no-one wants to hear anything that doesn’t agree with their deeply held, but likely erroneous point of view.

Although it’s never really worth falling out over politics because no one really knows what they’re talking about, I frequently do. The latest being my own brother-in- law, who chose to take my bait on the west’s responsibility for terrorism because he’s done a tour of duty in Afghanistan and read some unproven propaganda in the Express, therefore making him more expert in the practice, if not the process of the causes of war, than me – who’s only studied the, admittedly biased, Irving, (he was still a legit historian when I did my A-level,) Orwell, the Economist, and um, occasionally Icke, which just makes me an idiot conspiracy theorist.

But it does get rather tiresome when people make statements online and then refuse to have it challenged. Take fox hunting, for example, about which, in the wake of our current PM’s avowed support, there has been a irksome number of memes apearing in my newsfeed. There are two clear sides of this rather tired debate – that hunting is barbaric, or rather a noble sport that rids farmland of pests. No one seems to understand that too many of one species (normally Tories!) is terrible for biodiversity.

Honestly, I like foxes as much as the next person, (the starving crack-foxes of Hackneyshire who scratch a living out of out bins and occasionally attack infants are charming in their own way, but would certainly benefit from making use of the condoms they’re likely to find in the local Ecopark undergrowth). But like any reasonable human, I can see things from both sides of the fence. However, the problem with sitting on it is you’re liable to get run down – first by the (lizard-brained) toff astride his stead chasing said fox and then by the angry mob waving placards…

It’s simply best to get out of the way and avoid the subject altogether. And that’s why I’m a Liberal Democrat.

So I really shouldn’t have brought up the evolutionary argument in favour of fox hunting – that most humans are (particularly those with lizard-brains), by nature, hunters due to their ancestral survival on killing – when a friend and erstwhile colleague of mine posted a meme in which dearly departed Roger Moore (he hadn’t yet passed when I commented) was quoted saying that people who condone fox hunting have mental health problems – at which I took a bit of offence.

The fact remains, however, that until it become significantly watered down by a gene pool that does not rely on death to survive, there will always be people with a killer instinct, simply by virtue of the fact that killing things enabled their forefathers (and mothers – let’s not be sexist when it comes to hunter gatherers) to thrive. From an evolutionary perspective (the one touchstone of empirical truth to which, in my vague philosophical ignorance, I can return again and again to explain any behaviour) there really is no right or wrong as long as it leads to survival. So I quipped on my friend’s wall that fox hunting leads to more cunning foxes. Which means from future foxes’ perspective, it could actually be a good thing to get rid of the slow ones. But what this says about humans is completely another matter.

And given so much of the world we live in is less than ideal, I can’t help but feel there are probably more pressing causes to get behind- unless you happen to be that particular fox. And it’s hard not to then take the argument to its logical conclusion and, like another friend of mine recently, embrace veganism.

In fact, I watched Simon Amstell’s Carnage this week, the net result of which (it was very funny but packed a punch) is that I can no longer drink milk without thinking of the word ‘pus’. So it was with a degree of relief that I read this article in The Economist, which argued that an ability to digest lactose led to Western prosperity. This has at least enabled me once again to enjoy the white stuff (responsibly-sourced though I ensure it is), as I am clearly evolved to do. For many of us meat lovers, it’s simply written in our genes that we quite like the taste of flesh (as my recently converted vegan friend, kept calling a predisposition for eating meat.) Perhaps if Quorn weren’t quite so inedible I’d give it much more than a half-arsed go.

But, the problem with my evolutionary argument, that all behaviour is explanable – even ones we find abhorrent, like murder or pedophilia. It’s only the license society provides to act upon our instincts that gives that behaviour legitimacy – or otherwise. It feels only a matter of time before meat eating is viewed with the same sort of social horror. But it doesn’t matter to evolution that some of us have something ofa bloodthirsty streak. So what of those who can’t shift the urge? Do they too become marginalised? After all, it was only 100 years ago that being gay was a capital offence -and look how far we’ve come on that. But in much of the world, greater tolerance is founded on better understanding.

Some behaviours will always be beyond the pale for most of us – I wonder whether meat eating may become one of them, and those who enjoy a barbeque will be forced into self-help sessions, and 12 step-programs which along with chemical castration, is probably better for pedophiles who don’t act on their urges then locking them up.

And yet modern society’s labeling of unwanted behaviour as ‘mental health problems’, rather than simply the cause and effect of modern life coupled with our genes and upbringing (back to free will again – sorry!) disturbs me too – hence my reaction to my friend’s post. There’s no pill that can solve what’s wrong with most of us, although a recent trip to the doctor following the climb-the-walls anxiety I felt post-wedding hangover, could have been as a result of my contraceptive pill. I know all too well that we are puppeteered by our hormones as much as any other factor that controls our behaviour – there’s always a valid reason for the way we behave, and so much of it relates to how much power we have to say and do the things we do, that it’s all just acdemic anyway.

And so I sit here, with a bit of a hangover, following my work leaving drinks. Oh office politics – how I won’t miss you, no, nor Facebook  politics either – for the next week is half term and I’m free! The sun is out, and I am going to squeeze every last drop out of the last summer of Jonah’s childhood – for he starts secondary in September, and for now at least, try not give a flying fuck about what anyone else thinks about anything, for the other truth that I hold onto is that all of us are very likely wrong about everything anyway.