In City Journal Dalrymple sees a cultural shift in the differing attitudes expressed in books by Marian Partington, sister of a murder victim, and Winifred Young, sister of a murderer:

Oddly enough, this constant focus [by Partington] on herself is carried out in the name of the reduction of ego: “The movement towards comprehension is neither logical or straightforward. Essentially it involves becoming less self-centered, which makes space for the experience for oneself and others. It involves getting out of the way. Ultimately it may involve becoming forgiving.” And, of course, the first person to be forgiven is herself: “It was necessary to dissolve my own grief and anger and find compassion for myself before opening up to the possibility of forgiving those who caused this terrible pain.”

…

[By contrast] Winifred Young’s reaction (and that of her family) to her brother’s first trial, in 1962, was of exemplary clarity: “Even we, his family, persons who were more emotionally affected by it all; the ones who more than any others in the world, were reluctant to see him put behind bars, felt that this was the only right thing to do with him.” This response is sophisticated compared with Partington’s pseudo-spiritual maunderings. Not only is it far from the vengefulness that Partington ignorantly supposes is the only alternative to forgiveness; it clearly draws a distinction, as Partington does not, between the private sphere of the emotions and the public sphere of policy.

Dalrymple on the 1977 book Doctor at the Bar by Cyril Baron, in the British Medical Journal (subscription required):

Richard Reinsch, the editor of the Library of Law and Liberty, has written a short post defending the organization’s publishing of this piece, in which Dalrymple argues that a comparison of the book trade in Britain and France justifies some of the French regulations of the industry. The implementation of a price floor on books in France, Dalrymple says, increases the quality of books available and raises the general cultural level. Mr. Reinsch disagrees with Dalrymple’s argument but says the organization’s goal is to spark debate and to consider many points of view.

Whether or not Dalrymple is right about the effects of the French regulations, it seems his larger point provides a litmus test of one’s philosophical purity. Assuming it is true that some restraints on trade have beneficial effects while of course also decreasing economic efficiency and limiting freedom, could those regulations ever be justified? Libertarians, it seems, are loathe to consider any exceptions.

From Dalrymple’s British Medical Journal column (subscription required):

In Twelfth Night, the very name of one of the principal characters, Sir Andrew Aguecheek, is a medical reference. What would you expect of a man who suffered chronically from the ague? That he would be lean, sallow, and weak, without much in the way of willpower: precisely the character of Sir Andrew.

There is a medical metaphor in only the nineteenth line of the play. The Duke of Illyria, Orsino, describes the effect upon him of the Countess Olivia, with whom he is in love but who has retired into mourning for a brother who has just died of a cause that we never learn: “Methought she purged the air of pestilence.” Olivia falls in love instead with Viola, disguised as a boy, who is sent to her by the Duke to woo on his behalf: “How now? / Even so quickly may one catch the plague?”

The plague, of course, is love, but (non-metaphorically) also a disease that scholars say exercised a profound and even determining effect upon Shakespeare’s literary career.

The opinions to which Rotherham’s incipient political police objected were the following: UKIP wants the United Kingdom to recover its national sovereignty by withdrawing altogether from the European Union, and also wants much firmer restrictions on immigration. It is far from certain that the majority of the population does not agree with it on both counts; but in effect, the decision of Rotherham Council is indicative of a will to place both questions beyond the range of permissible political discussion, at least if you want a licence to do anything (and increasingly, such licences are needed). You can have any opinion you like, so long as it is ours.

Read the full piece here

The editorial in question makes statements such as “The mental health effects of any given disaster are related to the intensity of exposure to the event. Sustaining personal injury and experiencing the injury or death of a loved one in the disaster are particularly potent predictors of psychological impairment.” In other words those who suffer more suffer more. The editorial continues, “Research has also indicated that disaster-related displacement, relocation, and loss of property and personal finances are risk factors for mental health problems…”

Read it here

Most of the comment was unfavourable, as might be expected, but one remark caught my attention. It was that Depardieu had nothing to complain of because he was rich only because the state allowed him to be rich…

[W]hat my interlocutor at lunch meant was that it was up to the state how much money we should each be allowed, a proposition that to me is deeply sinister. It means that, far from the state being the creature of the people, the people are the creatures of the state: not government of the people, for the people, by the people, but people of the government, by the government and for the government.

Dalrymple at the Hilarious Pessimist

The aesthetically degrading custom of serving food and drink in polystyrene receptacles (or some such material), has a coarsening effect on daily life. Not only does it suggest that eating and drinking on the hoof are normal, socially acceptable and perhaps even economically necessary, but it also promotes some of the most unsightly littering… The rise of the polystyrene receptacle is a social, cultural, aesthetic and nutritional disaster.

In the US, Starbucks uses paper cups and not polystyrene, but I suppose that wouldn’t change his point much. Given the central importance of Starbucks espresso in the daily lives of your humble Skeptical Doctor bloggers, maybe some soul-searching is in order.