Sunday, April 19, 2009

On Being Moved Without Moving

Everyone has to have seen or heard this Youtube clip of Susan Boyle singing on Britain's Got Talent and even I am blogging about it.

But something bugs me in the thousands of articles that have been written about this event. People are going to great lengths to tell of how very moved they were. Not because she sang an rather lovely song extremely well. But because she surprised everybody who imagined that the physical appearance of a person related to what talents they might have. But Dennis Palumbo speaks my thoughts when he asks What if Susan Boyle Couldn't Sing?
“The unspoken message of this whole episode is that, since Susan Boyle has a wonderful talent, we were wrong to judge her based on her looks and demeanor. Meaning what? That if she couldn't sing so well, we were correct to judge her on that basis? That demeaning someone whose looks don't match our impossible, media-reinforced standards of beauty is perfectly okay, unless some mitigating circumstance makes us re-think our opinion?”
Lisybabe calls this disablism, which I am not entirely convinced about – although you ought to read her post on it anyway. However, it is fair to say that the same thing happens to other disabled people all the time. We aren't admired for the talents we happen to have or the things we happen to do, and we aren't respected just for ourselves. We are admired and respected because we defy expectations. Expectations being so low, most of us defy them at least some of the time. When we fail to do so for some reason, we are no longer afforded the basic respect to which everyone is entitled.

There is this awful phenomenon where people talk about how they have been moved by some event, to demonstrate what a sensitive person they are, as if the sheer strength of an emotional response makes them good. This is especially the case when a member of a minority group has achieved something. A lot of what was said in the UK about Barack Obama before he took office was along these lines - especially given our usually poisonous levels of cynicism about politicians. People seemed to forgot that the reason the election of a black president was not about the novelty of a black man being highly intelligent and charismatic, but about the US electorate doing the right thing for a change (apologies to my American readers; I know you have been doing the right thing all along, but your countrymen have not).

Last summer I heard a certain famous person say on the telly, in all seriousness, “I love the Paralympics, I genuinely do and I cry buckets every time one of them gets a medal.” This is a ridiculous thing to confess to. It is kind of groovy when someone who is into sport declares an interest in the Paralympics, because it is taken much less seriously than other events - it suggests that they consider disabled athletes as legitimate as non-disabled athletes. But then crying when inevitably, some of them get medals? No athlete, disabled or not, trains as they do in order to compete for our tears.

I cry rather easily - I would have cried if it had been a clip Lily Allen singing I dreamed a dream (though for perhaps slightly different reasons) and I would have cried during Obama's inaugural address if he had recited On The Ning Nang Nong (which, let's face it, would still have raised the bar for US presidential eloquence). But this doesn't reflect very much on me or my values.

And this is my worry. Everyone is saying that the Susan Boyle story just goes to prove all that stuff about books and their covers, but if everyone who says this or nods their head really means it, a social revolution must now be taking place. Not that people will stop judging by appearances, just that we'll start acting on the obvious premise that it's not just very young and pretty people who have talents in the performing arts. We don't enjoy music with our eyes.

But in order to do this, we have to realise that the surprise isn't the point. The point is that there ought not to have been any surprise. Susan Boyle's novelty is her great singing voice, not her talent in contrast to our expectations of her.

Incidentally, the article that amused me most about Susan Boyle, mostly on the grounds of its title (although it's analysis is reasonably sound) is Susan Boyle: The New Face - and Voice! - of the "Spinster Cat Lady". I'm just wondering who the old face of the Spinster Cat Lady was...

Monday, April 13, 2009

Blogging Against Disablism Day will be on 1st May, 2009

Blogging Against Disablism Day 2008 is now underway. Please click here to read the contributions or register your own.


Blogging Against Disablism Day, May 1st 2009Blogging Against Disablism day will be on Friday, 1st May. This is the day where all around the world, disabled and non-disabled people will blog about their experiences, observations and thoughts about disability discrimination. In this way, we hope to raise awareness of inequality, promote equality and celebrate the progress we've made.

How to take part.

1. Post a comment below to say you intend to join in. I will then add you to the list of participants on the sidebar of this blog. Everyone is welcome.

2. Spread the word by linking to this site, displaying our banner and/ or telling everyone about it. The entire success of Blogging Against Disablism Day depends entirely on bloggers telling other bloggers and readers in advance.

3. Write a post on the subject of disability discrimination, disablism or ableism and publish it on May 1st - or as close as you are able. Podcasts, videocasts and on-line art are also welcome. You can cover any subject, specific or general, personal, social or political. In the previous three BADD, folks have written about all manner of subjects, from discrimination in education and employment, through health care, parenting, family life and relationships, as well as the interaction of disablism with racism and sexism. Every year I have been asked, so it's worth saying; the discrimination experienced by people with mental ill health is disablism, so naturally such posts are welcome too.

You can see the archives for previous years here: 2006, 2007, 2008.

Blogging Against Disablism Day is not a carnival of previously published material. The point about doing this around one day is that it is a communal effort and all the posts connect to one another. You can of course use your own post to promote other things you've written as you wish.

4. Come back here to Diary of a Goldfish on the day to let everyone know that you've posted and to check out what other people have written. I shall post links to everyone's posts throughout the day, creating an archive. However, I do need you to comment and leave the URL of your post or else I shan't find your post and won't be able to link to it.


Accessibility

Naturally, Blogging Against Disablism Day invites contributions from people with all variety of impairments and none at all. You are welcome to contribute with podcasts, video-blogging or anything else that allows you to take part. And whilst May 1st is when this all takes place, nobody who happens to have a bad day that Friday is going to be left out of the archive.

If anyone has any questions about web accessibility, JackP has suggested checking out the Accessify Forum.

I am not an expert on web accessibility myself, so if there are any suggestions about how I can make this day more accessible, please e-mail me at diaryofagoldfish at googlemail.com


The Linguistic Amnesty

Whilst discussions about language and the way it can be used to oppress or empower us are more than welcome, please respect the language that people, particularly to describe themselves in their own contributions. We all have personal preferences, there are cultural variations and different political positions which affect the language we use. Meanwhile, non-disabled contributors can become nervous about using the most appropriate language to use, so please cut everyone as much slack as possible on the day.

At the same time, do not feel you have to use the same language that I do, even to talk about "disablism". If you prefer to blog against disability discrimination, ableism or blog for disability equality, then feel free to do so.

Last year I wrote a basic guide to the Language of Disability which I hope might explain some of the thinking behind the different language disabled people prefer to use about themselves.


Links & Banners


To link back to this post, simply copy and paste the following code:


These banners have seemed popular over the last couple of years and I can't think of anything better. If anyone fancies editing these images or coming up with something new, then please do so. You are free to use these as you like, so long as you use them in support of Blogging Against Disablism Day. If you already have the banner, you just need to change the URL that it links to from last year's BADD. Otherwise, you simply need to copy the contents of one of these boxes and paste it on your blog, in a post or on the sidebar as you like. The banners come in two colour combinations and two sizes. The sizes are a 206 pixels square or 150 x 200 pixels.

Blogging Against Disablism Day, May 1st 2009This is the black and white banner which reads "Blogging Against Disablism". Here's the code for the square one:



And here's the code for the narrower one (which can be seen here):




Blogging Against Disablism Day, May 1st 2009This is the colourful banner which reads "Blogging Against Disablism". This is the code for the square one:



And here's the code for the narrower one (which can be seen here):




Please leave a (comment including the URL of your blog) to let everyone know you are joining in and I shall add a link to you on the sidebar. Also, if you have any questions, please ask.

Tuesday, April 07, 2009

How to be a Disabled Villain

In the wake of a global economic downturn and mass unemployment, disabled people find themselves among the most vulnerable people in the jobs market, just at a time when welfare reforms place increasing pressure on us all to find work. Some of us have to consider branching out in ways that others may not thoroughly approve of. I know I've written before about my ample qualifications as a Bond Villain, but this subject has been bugging me lately, plus Yanub's Disability Blog Carnival is on the related subject Action Heroes - if I can get this posted in time.

The latest offense was in an otherwise benign youngsters' movie called The City of Ember where we meet a sinister character played by Mackenzie Crook (the one from The Office who was then in Pirates of the Carribbean). Now Crook does a decent sinister, he was made up with a very pale face and lank hair and in any case we knew from his actions that this character was not to be trusted long before - as in half an hour before - attention was drawn to his limping gait and built-up shoe.

There are so many disabled villains in movies that you almost don't notice – just as you almost don't notice the number of English accents among the fictional villain community. But the Englishness thing is okay; it's always an upper middle-class English accent which suggests sophistication as well as cunning and a cold heart. The disability thing is all about wrongness. This character is wrong whilst the uniformly perfect and pretty heroes and heroines are right, and if you couldn't work that out from what is being said and done (which you really ought to have), here's a big visual clue.

And of course the biggest objection, the massive great problem with disabled villains is that these are almost the only disabled characters in mainstream movies. It's okay to have black villains - well, Samuel L. Jackson, who seems to play all of them - because there are a handful of black heroes and side-kicks. But disabled folk are still either completely absent or rotten to the core.

So anyway, some say that we're going through a period of history when people are hungry for heroes, beacons of virtue and courage in a world that has been so damaged by greed and hate. However, there can't be any meaningful heroism if as disabled people, we don't hobble up to the plate and embrace the role the fates assigned to us. Plus the pay is good. So here are

Some Dos and Don'ts of Disabled Villainy

Do be eccentric. The great advantage of being disabled is that one has to think outside the box in so many aspects of one's life that one is already ideally suited to a novel career like supervillainy. One must fully embrace one's deviation. Consider Darth Vadar; the fetish had always been there, but only after he became disabled did he acquire the confidence to wear that gear in public. They say if you can't beat them, join them. I say if you can't join them, fire lasers as them.

Don't be bitter. There's a fine line between the misanthropy necessary for taking over the world by violent means and bitterness. Bitterness is ugly, it suggests a longing for the love and acceptance of a world that denies us access to public transport. Like Mrs Clennam in Little Dorrit - uh, maybe that's a little too classical a reference, but she was a rare example of a female disabled villain. Not a very good one though, as she used a wheelchair and in her bitterness chose to live upstairs in a structurally unsound to say nothing of DDA non-compliant building.

Do be charming. Whatever harm you wish to exact on the world, it still pays to be friendly. Think of Leigh Teabing in The Da Vinci Code (another English villain, as you could tell by the tea in his surname – it's all about the symbolism). He was such a pleasant and sophisticated gent, his English accent and post-polio syndrome were the only clues to his being a crook. Whereas the morbid Silas, with his magical albinism, well he was just a kinky fanatic with no charm to him whatsoever. Except in the movie he was played by Paul Bettany who is dreamy.

Don't be socially inept
. People with impairments which can effect social skills are by no means barred from a career in villainy - in fact, as people with autism and mental illness are overrepresented in the ranks of geniuses, we must presume that a number are evil geniuses. Yet in order to make good in badness, one has to at least maintain a basic level of personal hygiene and social propriety. Living on a diet of raw fish (like the Penguin) and having a totally inappropriate sense of humour (like the Joker) may be a step too far.

Do have the funky tech. Villains and especially supervillains tend to have money and technology on their side, so one must have the most state-of-the-art prosthetics, wheelchairs, canes and so on. I'm sure the guy who made a USB-compatible prosthetic finger has since moved into his own underground lair. Dr. Loveless in Wild Wild West also had the right idea; the movie was set during the American Civil War and yet the guy had a steam-powered wheelchair. Which was the best thing about that movie, apart from the eye candy (Will Smith and Salma Hayek - I know both can act, but in that one they just looked pretty).

Don't fake it.
Villains pretending to be disabled just gives the rest of us a bad name. Simon Grueber, the Jeremy Irons character in Die Hard with Avengence has a profound stammer which, considering the amount of talking the character does under considerable pressure isn't at all convincing. And Verbal Kint (Kevin Spacey) in The Usual Suspects had Cerebral Palsy except... well, you know if you saw the movie, which you really should have by now. Clearly, both characters were putting it on for the parking spaces.

Do nurture the young
. Was Long John Silver the best disabled fictional character of all time? Probably. On which subject,
Don't attempt to murder children or you might get eaten by a crocodile.

Do dress your wounds properly
. Everyone knows that one of the most dangerous aspects of a severe burn is infection, but for some reason Hollywood villains leave these things completely exposed to the elements. Recent examples include the Afghani warlord in Iron Man and the character of Arthur Dent who I guess had become "Two-Face" by the end of The Dark Knight. It doesn't matter that they're out of comic books, it's just not hygienic.

And finally, perhaps most crucially

Do get away with it. Most supervillains, despite usually being much much smarter than their goody-goody adversaries, are ultimately defeated. One has responsibility to avoid this at all costs, not only to oneself, but to all disabled people who aspire to be bad. Think Mr Potts in It's a Wonderful Life. Nobody liked him, his actions drove a good man to attempt suicide, but hey, that guy didn't claim a penny in disability benefits his whole life. Now that's a role model.


( Yes, I am terribly ashamed of having watched, let alone remembered watching, some of the above movies. And once I've posted this, I shall think of a great number of far better and more respectable examples. Or perhaps you can. )

Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Sara

Sara died. Sara was one of my favourite bloggers and a true friend. She had cancer for many years and as long as I have known her, I have known that it was on the cards. Then last year, she had a brain tumour and I thought we might lose her very quickly, much more quickly than we did. So this wasn't unexpected. And I honestly believe that Sara had a good life. Shorter than most and with an extremely unpleasant disease through much of it, but good. She kind of made that her project I think, to get the very most out of everything she had for as long as possible.

Sara taught me a very great deal. She also supported and encouraged me in all sorts of ways. I thought about writing a tribute to her, perhaps finding exampls of her great wisdom and kindness to quote to you, but what I feel now is a little personal, a little raw. Both Elizabeth and Kay have written about her death.

The most important thing to be said, I guess, is that I feel very very fortunate to have known Sara. She was one of those friends who altered the shape of my world. I am very sad just now, but she was more than worth it and I shall continue to benefit from the gifts she gave me. I really hoped to finish my book before Sara died. It was something that we talked about.

In other news, I have a new keyboard for my EEE PC and everything seems to be working. I would be ecstatic about this after the boredom of the last ten days without it, but ecstasy is slightly beyond me just now. At least I can now get on with my work.

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Computer says "No."

I spilt coffee on my lovely computer and the keyboard doesn't work any more. I'm kind of hoping that I can replace the keyboard and have it working again, but it's going to take a while for the new keyboard to turn up and then, if that doesn't work, a while to buy a new computer. My EEE PC was only the second new computer I've ever had, and I've had it less than a year - I do feel very very stupid about it.

I have to remind myself that accidents happen to everyone, and sometimes far more disastrous ones. All my data is backed up, which was my greatest concern. And I can get on-line with this far inferior Apple machine but it is connected to the telly and is very difficult to do any writing on. I may find some means to blog if this goes on too long.

How frustrating! But all my silly fault. I did once spill a mug of herbal tea over a keyboard, but if anything its performance improved somewhat once it had dried out. It probably had magical healing properties.

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Reading vs. Listening

Ira Socol, who writes Special Education Change has become somewhat of a blog hero since he contributed to last year's BADD. Ira writes about accessible education, his Toolbelt Theory for Everyone should be required reading for everyone involved in academia. But from a personal point of view, I often read Ira's blog and think, if only I, or someone close to me, had read this stuff when I was still trying to finish my own education.

Nature made me a better than average reader. I could read very quickly and I could skim; I could look at a page and find an important word or the most relevant phrase or sentence. Give me five minutes with a novel and I could tell you who the main characters are and basically what happens. At school, usually loved the set texts we were given (unnatural child that I was), but I bluffed my way to top marks with any I couldn't be bothered with and frequently read ahead of the class in our history and science text books. I used reading to compensate for other weaknesses. As a chronic daydreamer, it was sometimes very hard to pay full attention in class – even in perfect health, I would fall asleep at my desk from time to time. But so long as I had read up on a topic beforehand, nobody ever noticed.

The Dreaded Lurgy then took this away. I pretty much lost the ability to read anything more complex than single words for the first or so year of my illness. There are lots of different sorts of dyslexia, there are several different mechanisms which enable us to read, so lots of different things that can go wrong. Abnormal brain symmetry, brain damage like Sara's tumour or my problem, even forms of malnutrition can be responsible for a person having difficulty reading. It also manifests itself differently. The problem I had was that I could no longer distinguish the symbols from one another; paragraphs became a grey smudge just as soon as I attempted to translate these symbols into language. Rather like trying to count the pebbles at the bottom of a running stream.

When that improved and I learnt a few tricks (chiefly involving coloured celophane), the words had and still do have a habit of rearranging their order within a sentence and the letters within the word. Meanwhile, I had and still have very poor stamina, as well as concentration and memory problems – all this becomes indistinguishable when you can't do the thing you're trying to do. I attempted to return to education when my reading was still extremely slow, tiring and unreliable.

My great fortune was with the timing. If someone sails through school up to the age of fifteen, acquires a physical illness and says, “I can't read very well.” they are taken very seriously. If someone struggles through school, especially when, in their frustration, they give up or get distracted very easily, and only then someone comes along with a label like dyslexia, there is more doubt. I have some sympathy with the suspicion of labeling very young children with impairments and nowhere do you have more trouble with what is normal and abnormal than when looking at child behaviour and aptitude. However, if we stopped regarding all such labels as some sort of charitable status, there'd be much less to worry about.

Another great fortune was that until I joined the Open University, I wasn't part of any institution (I would never be well enough to physically attend any classes). By the time anyone wanted to assess my special needs, they did this by handing me a list of adjustments I might need and asked me to tick the appropriate boxes and fill in any gaps. I think my GP needed to sign something to prove I had the sort of problems I descried, but my account of my own limitations was trusted absolutely. I have written briefly about my ridiculous crisis of conscience over exam conditions somewhere in this rambling post.

Anyway despite my trouble reading, I took on an English Literature A-Level*. This wasn't as foolish as it sounds. The sciences, arts and modern languages were impractical to do at home without a science lab, a stage, a studio or other people to practice talking to. And, believe me, there is much more reading in a humanities subject, at least at that level, then there actually is in English Lit.. History, for example, involved several text books of doorstep proportions - plus any extra reading you could fit in. For English Lit., I only needed to read four texts, two of which were plays – and one of the plays had to be Shakespeare.

Shakespeare is a gift for my sort of problem. Much less to read in a play than in a book, and dialogue is always the easiest bit to read anyway. Most of the important stuff is in poetry rather than prose (prose being reserved for low-status or comic characters), thus you have just one phrase or sentence per line, and you have all the clues that rhythm and rhyme provide. Added to this, you've usually got a wide choice of radio, television and film productions of the play you can track down, listen to or watch to support your reading. After all, the guy did not write plays to be read.

The novels were trickier. The obvious aid was audiobooks, but as well as the fact that it was massively expensive to obtain unabridged recordings, I felt like this was cheating.

We have this dichotomy in our culture, where one lots of media is for work and one lot for fun. One big factor in the reason that we read relatively few books as opposed to watching films and television programmes is that a lot of us are programmed with the idea that books are hard work. At [...]'s boys' comprehensive school, the teacher explicitly stated that he didn't expect that any of his charges would read another book in their lives, before he subjected them to Far From the Madding Crowd (the lower-ability kids read The Day of the Triffids and probably learnt to love reading).

At the same time, of course, a degree in English Literature is ten times more respectable than a degree in Film Studies. There's no fundamental reason why this should be the case. Personally, I think the world would benefit from reading more books; books do offer things that films do not and vice versa, but you get my point.

And so I imagined that audiobooks were cheating. Books were meant to be read; you made your own voices just as you made up your own pictures. You did all the work yourself, work I imagined to be crucial. I naïvely imagined that all people with visual impairments could all read braille and that every book ever written would be available in braille at a special braille shop that undoubtedly existed somewhere. I also had idea that dyslexia was a problem that only young children experienced whn learning to read and could all be effectively “cured” by teaching them to read in a different way (which can help, but not always). Audiobooks were a form of entertainment, not an educational tool.

Only of course, apart from anything else, listening is often harder than reading. Personally I had (and still have) to listen to an audiobook two or three times to take in the same information I could have read the once; my mind wanders. Then you have to get over the voices; an actors' accent or cadence can be completely distracting and even some authors are ill-equipped to read their own books. It is trickier to control pace, and you can't scribble wildly in the margins of a book on CD. But there are ways of getting round these things.

Fancying myself as a writer, I don't for a minute think that you have to see the shape of my words in order to understand what is being said. So what if you were listening to this? If I'm writing sentences which would be difficult to read out loud, then I'm writing sentences that are going to be hard work to read at all.

Whilst we should attempt to teach children to read and write, the ability to read something off a page is not absolutely fundamental to understanding our language, or the ideas explored in journalism and literature. In the same way, learning to walk was a fundamental for most of us, but some people manage pretty well without. Far better that everyone is given the tools that work for them for learning and in life.


* An A-Level, my non-English and Welsh friends, is the qualification you'd usually take between 16 and 18. Generally you'd take at least three or four and upon your marks, university entrance is determined. I didn't actually finish my A-Level, but that is beside the point.

Saturday, March 14, 2009

On Torture

I don't like writing about this stuff, but I need to get it out of my system. I shall sneak it out on a weekend while nobody's about. I was midway through writing a post on a not unconnected subject when Binyam Mohamed accused UK secret services with participation in his alleged torture. Ugh.

Most human rights have slight conditions attached. For example, we have a right to free movement, but there are conditions under which the state or our fellow citizens are allowed to imprison us. The right to life is fundamental but the forces of the state or our fellow citizens are allowed to kill us if we pose a direct threat to the life, liberty or physical integrity of another person.

There are a handful of things that nobody is ever allowed to do to us. Things which can never ever be justified under any circumstance. These are all to do with our physical integrity. Like rape. There is never any circumstance where it makes moral sense to rape a person, whoever they are, whatever they've done. A rapist overrides the absolute minimum amount of respect which it is necessary to have for one another in order to co-exist. I don't have to argue this.

Performing medical experiments or unnecessary surgical procedures on people without their consent – this, again, can never be justified. Whatever good might come from medical developments, even if we performed these experiments on the worst sort of criminals, that kind of cruelty is simply unacceptable.

And then there's torture. Despite what some very powerful people have said in recent years, torture is really easy to define. To put someone in extreme discomfort, through physical or sensory assault in or to make their existence completely unbearable. Since unbearable suffering is the objective, it doesn't really matter how this is achieved, whether it leaves a mark or not.

The argument made in favour of torture has been the same forever; the lesser of two evils. A while back, it was about saving souls - torture a confession out of the heretic before killing her and she could go straight to heaven. These days it is all about terrorism and saving hypothetical lives.
“Torture is a bad thing but if it prevents lots of innocent people being killed, then it is justified.”
There are a couple of problems with what is sometimes described as the ticking time-bomb scenario. The idea is that there is a ticking time-bomb, the bomber has the power to halt detonation and you have that bomber in your custody. You need him to give you the information which will stop the bomb going off, so what do you do?

The first problem is a small empirical point. Lots of people argue against torture on the grounds that it doesn't work at all, but this is a little naive - if torture was completely ineffective, no authority would waste their time with it. Torture and the ongoing threat of torture does help to intimidate people – totalitarian states use it for this purpose. And people do frequently crack under great physical and psychological strain. Unfortunately, a person desperate to relieve their own suffering will say anything, give whatever information they think their tormentors want to hear, regardless of its truth. Under torture, innocent people confess, implicate other innocent people and make stuff up. Guilty people – or knowledgeable people – frequently elaborate their knowledge in order to make it more convincing or satisfactory to their tormentors. Others just won't crack, particularly those who consider their cause worth dying for.

So it is incredibly hit and miss. In the very unlikely event of having the one person upon which everything hinged in custody and knowing exactly what their role was, the ticking time-bomb scenario could still end in a bang. And then what? A consequentialist argument whereby torture is justified as a means to an end falls down when that end is totally uncertain.

And anyway, this never happens and as far as any of us know this has never happened. Whatever Binyam Mohamed was up to when he was arrested, there was no ticking timebomb. If there had been, it would have taken less than seven years to find some crime with which to charge him.

By far the biggest problem is this ridiculous idea of torture as the lesser of two evils. Sometimes this argument is presented in the very emotive way;
“If someone had your child held prisoner, then you would be prepared to do whatever it takes to get them to tell you where you child was.”
Whatever it takes is a real problem. If we go down that path, then we have to go far beyond simulated drowning or anything else that didn't leave a mark. We have to mess them up pretty badly. And then here's a problem; say they don't care for their own suffering, but they have their own kid. So how about torturing their child in front of them? This is your kid's life we're talking about, so why not? It's not like we're going to kill the child – wheres your child may die if we don't do this.

This is not a slippery slope argument – if it genuinely is a matter of the lesser of two evils then chances are that torturing the families of terrorist suspects would be far more effective than torturing them and therefore the lesser of two evils. And you'd probably only have to electrocute a handful of small children in order to perhaps save thousands of lives. Perhaps, of course – all these arguments are based on a perhaps because never in the history of mankind can it be demonstrated than any life has been saved by torturers.

Probably the most depressing aspect of Binyam Mohammed's story is the kind of comment made by ordinary folk who believe that the guy deserved what happened to him. Paul Canning wrote about this, and there's a BBC Have Your Say forum filled with comments along the lines of
"The guy was traveling on a false passport so what did he expect? He has probably made all this up in order to claim compensation. He wasn't born here so send him back to where he came from."
As with rape, a common response to torture, particularly by our side, is to pretend it hasn't happened or that if it did, it was somehow deserved. It isn't clear what happened to Binyam Mohammed – maybe he really wasn't tortured. But we know that he was held prisoner, illegally, for seven years. So what, if he was up to no good? That only means that he ought to have been arrested, charged and tried for his offenses. As it is, he has lost seven years of his life without having been convicted of any crime. Nobody deserves that.

I think it is absolutely vital to maintain this minimum respect for every other human being. That whatever happens, you are not prepared to degrade them in this way. Lock 'em up. Kill them when you're completely out of options. But never to do that. Jesus is supposed to have said “That you do unto the least of men, you do unto me.” (or words to that effect). I would broaden that out; the way we treat the very worst kinds of people reflects on our attitude towards all of humankind, including ourselves, our nearest and dearest. The torture of just one of us makes all of us less precious.

This is how the world felt in the aftermath of one of the bloodiest spells in our history, the Second World War when they first drew up Human Rights legislation. At that time people knew all about what was at stake, perhaps far better than we do, and yet they still believed in drawing that line.


Edit: I edited this the next day, took out some of the more stomach-turning language. Upsetting subject.