Saturday, 1 February 2025

Alcoholic Politics: a diagnosis

‘Alcoholic Politics’ refers to the condition of being addicted to political influences that are seriously harmful.


‘Alpoholics’ – to coin a term – are unhappy with their lot. Some are understandably aggrieved that they are paid a pittance while their superrich bosses pocket millions. Some are obsessively angry that they do not get as much help as those people who just happen to have suffered more in life. Whatever the reason, they turn to political inebriation – the stuff that takes your mind off reality, conjures up imaginary escapes that actually lead nowhere, removes your inhibition to be rude to others, gives you a sense of high, and plunges you to depressive rejection of any sensible path ahead.


Demagogues and political con merchants target their intoxicating brand of facile delusion on Alpoholics, who just can’t get enough of that bewildering sensation of not having to deal with anything anymore. One gulp after another of that heady potion sends them to that illusory realm where taxes are no more, regulations are removed, big corporations willingly treat their workers with fairness and generosity, diseases are never infectious, the poor lift themselves out of poverty, and all immigrants and refugees are banished.


When the hangover hits, Alpoholics blame responsible politicians and every kind of ‘do-gooder’ for trapping them in a world where evidence-based public policies are essential for keeping us safe from violence, ill health, exploitation, economic insecurity, climate chaos, and countless other threats. They don’t want to face the reality of people needing to learn from each other, work together to find solutions, and cooperate on overcoming their problems. It’s so much easier to get drunk on false promises, scapegoat blaming, and incoherent ranting.


The thing with Alpoholics is that you can’t tell them to stop. You can’t confront them with the nonsense they spout. They can’t grasp what is going on. What you can do is to try in their moments of sobriety help them see what is really happening. Shouting abuse at innocent strangers, joining in riots, echoing threats against the lives of others – is that how on reflection they want to be seen by their children, their parents, themselves?


Instead of being lectured, they need support – someone who will listen to them, to whom they can turn to talk things through. In practice, this can take the form of a neighbourhood network of mentors – which may include some who had been Alpoholics themselves – who are ready to meet with someone willing to explore recovery, taking one step at a time, shedding the addictive pull, and reconnecting with others without twisted perception or inflamed emotions.


Most of all, they need to be given hope, to have some goal they feel worthy of working towards. Countering the constant flow of depressing news and manipulative negativity, attention should be directed at efforts that make life tangibly better for people they care about. Big announcements about national targets rarely engage people deeply. It is the day-to-day experience of kindness, helpfulness, and understanding that builds trust, and keeps people focussed on the good that can be done, and away from destructive illusions.