Deep Cuts and the Quest for Mastery

Hairdresser is one example of an occupation that has a “captive audience.” It is an unwise customer who expresses a contrary viewpoint too forcefully when debating with a barber, armed with scissors, and with license to cut.

This advice passed through my mind as I sat in my barber’s chair. I had booked an early appointment to maximize the chances that I would be in the small shop with just the hairdresser (strangers have become suspect) and we were both masked (a situation I no longer find weird). It was over a year since I had visited and since once this was my regular barber’s, he recognized me.

After I had explained why I hadn’t been in for so long, I ventured the question: “And how has the last year been for you?”

His initial reply was understandable and predictable. “It’s been up and down.”

I nodded; well aware of how difficult it has been for anyone involved in face-to-face services with regular income hard to come by, and limited support if you are self-employed.

But relatively quickly, the conversation took a turn. “I have done a lot of reading about the pandemic.” he said. “And what many people don’t realize is that this is not really a health crisis, it’s much more political.” Uh-oh, I thought.

I conceded that the way the pandemic has developed is inextricably political. Ominously he declared: “This is not an accident.” Then swiftly he expanded the discussion by claiming that soon the UK would be more like Xi’s China or Putin’s Russia, and that COVID would provide the rationale. He added that this was not a move spearheaded by Boris Johnson; he was just a figurehead and a distraction — stronger forces were at work behind the scenes. My barber would not be the first to see Boris as a comic figure, but I have always seen him as more clown than puppet.

Trying to get my bearings in the spiralling discussion, I inquired— as gently as I could — whether he believed that COVID-19 was an escaped bio-weapon. He declared it was, but this was of incidental significance. For him, the response to the virus rather than the virus itself was what revealed the forces at work.

I conceded that it was a testing time for democracy and that authoritarian regimes seemed to be gaining strength. I added that the rapid development of vaccines had provided some hope and asked him if he had had his booster dose. Yes, he said, but three is enough. This is all a plot to make the pharmaceutical companies rich. Trying to switch the focus, I said that from my perspective, the pandemic had shown the urgent need to re-set our relationship to Nature. We seem to think that everything on Earth is for us and we don’t leave enough space for the rest of Nature. In that sense, humanity has become the most dangerous virus on the planet.

He nodded, but averred that it had always been that way. Well, I responded, we need to realise that if current trends continue, humans are going to find it hard to survive. That’s why the billionaires are practising going into space, he rejoined.

Alas, this launched him on a tour of billionaires. Bill Gates — tick. Jeff Bezos — tick. George Soros — tick. And with it, conspiracy theories, old and new. He was convinced that the US election had been rigged to enable Biden to provide greater support for Israel. More support than Trump did? I queried. He paused. They were happy with Trump, he admitted, but they were alarmed by some of the antisemitism among his supporters. Biden’s cabinet would give the same support and more, but do it quietly. I took account of the fact that he was a refugee from the Kurdish part of Iraq and that just maybe there are non-Anglophone parts of the web that offer a blend of conspiracies. After all, the English-speaking media has its own share of plot-lines.

I tried to switch the discussion again. It has been reported, I began softly, that when people are confronted by events that seem to be spinning out of control, they are often drawn to story-lines or explanations that suggest that below the apparent chaos, there is control and that shadowy powerful figures are pulling the strings. In some way, psychologists suggest, believing this story restores a sense of control. It is almost universal to seek out or read things that agree with what we believe to be true. Hence, once you believe that the surface of life is false, full of fake news and false gestures, and that you are among a smarter group of people to whom the real state of affairs has been revealed, it is hard to change your mind and believe differently.

I added that early in my training as a historian, I was introduced to the scientific model of falsification. If you have a hypothesis — for example, that Winston Churchill was a great leader (a view that many English conservatives have, including Boris Johnson who has written a widely sold biography in Winston’s praise) — you should go back to the evidence to see if you can prove the claim false. (Something Boris completely fails to do). Along the way, you still have to acknowledge the evidence that supports Churchill’s reputation and this typically results in a mixed view where moments remain where he got things right as well as others where he was wrong and several where he got lucky. The important thing is that as far as possible you question and remain skeptical; you don’t just trust the things that support your preconceptions.

He did not say anything. But the scissors moved briskly and I sensed that he was not eager to accept my theory. I tried a different gambit. One of the big splits among historians is between those who shape their historical interpretation through some overarching theory of how the world works and those who basically accept that the past is messy and chaotic. It is so full of so many variables — everything is so contingent upon something else — that it is always uniquely itself. Ultimately, it’s just a case of one damn thing after another.

By this point, he had moved onto the hair dryer and brush, thank heavens. I had already lost both sideburns before I could remind him that I preferred trimming with scissors to shearing with electric clippers. But the blast of hot air from the hair dryer that hit me squarely between the eyes spoke emphatically of dissent. I left with tidier hair and deflated spirits. I felt such a failure, unable to find the words to convince him that the universe had not fallen permanently to the forces of darkness.

Here was a fundamentally decent person whose head had filled with bleak thoughts and barely suppressed anger, and I could provide neither the light nor calm he needed. Hopefully, my tip was still a plus! But in a world full of social media whisperers who specialise in narratives that spin a divisive line between the dupes and the true believers, it is hard to preserve the space for civility; which is also why it is important to try.