Author: Theodore Dalrymple

Nothing human alien is to me, I understand nothing that is human: I cannot quite make up my mind which describes my situation the better. But certainly one of the things that I do not understand is the cult of celebrity; it mystifies me completely. It is not that I am uninterested in gossip, provided it is about someone known to me personally, even if but slightly, and is sufficiently malicious, as it usually is. But I cannot imagine what it is like to immerse oneself in the details of the personal lives of people whose fame is ephemeral and … Continue reading →

‘Only connect’ – such were the famous (almost) concluding words of E. M. Forster’s novel, Howard’s Way. I think if Forster were alive today and still writing, he would end the book differently: ‘Only disconnect.’ It is very difficult to disconnect these days, psychologically if not physically. Although I think that the so-called social media would be much better and more accurately called the anti-social media (for which of us has not seen and remarked upon four people at a restaurant table ignoring each other and glued to their little screens?), I cannot claim myself to be so very different … Continue reading →

The least one can say of the psychiatric treatment given to Andreas Lubitz, the pilot who killed 149 people as well as himself in crashing the Germanwings aircraft into the Alps, is that it was not very successful. Indeed, its outcome was about as disastrous as any in the history of medicine, but that may not be entirely its fault: perhaps the whole idea of such treatment was misconceived in the first place. It seems to me likely (though I could not swear to it in a court of law) that Lubitz’s problem was one of character rather than of … Continue reading →

The late Simon Leys, the great Sinologist and literary essayist, once wrote a little essay on the first lines of novels. He was inspired to do so by having picked up G. K. Chesterton’s The Napoleon of Notting Hill in a second-hand bookshop and read its first words: ‘The human race, to which so many of my readers belong…’ He said that the rest of the novel did not live up to this glorious opening, but it would have been impossible for any extended piece of writing to do so. It is not only the writers of novels who strive … Continue reading →

… such stuff as madmen Tongue, and brain not; either both, or nothing, Or senseless speaking, or a speaking such As sense cannot untie. Cymbeline, Act 1, scene v . All doctors have noticed that when one of their colleagues, goes over to the other side – Management, I mean – he soon begins to speak a kind of language that is neither colloquial nor technical nor philosophical nor literary nor precise nor poetic nor even quite human, howsoever clearheaded and lucid he may have been beforehand. The transformation usually takes about two weeks, but is then complete. A man … Continue reading →

Whether looseness of language is a consequence or a cause of looseness of thought I cannot say. No doubt it is sometimes the one and sometimes the other. Perhaps—to indulge in a little looseness of thought and language of my own—the relationship between them is dialectical. But certainly there is often a hinterland of notions, even an entire world outlook, behind certain loose ways of putting things. Looking at the Guardian website I noticed two instances of looseness almost straight away. The first was in an article reporting the death of a New York Times columnist, a man called David Carr, in the newspaper’s … Continue reading →

“Last night hope for real change brought the smiles back to Greek faces after five long years”: that was a fairly representative statement in the British left-wing press on the day following the Greek election. And the photos that usually accompanied such statements did indeed show numbers of Greeks full of joy at the results. Neither the statements nor the pictures were outright lies: rather they were partial truths, as are so many truths in the field of politics. Nor was it uncommon to find the electoral victory of Syriza, led by Alexis Tsipras, described as a “sweep” to power. … Continue reading →

Generally I don’t remember my dreams, and to judge by the few that I do remember I am rather glad that I don’t. Nor do I believe, pace Freud, that they are the royal road to the unconscious, still less that they are auguries of the future. On the contrary, I think that they are the effect on the brain of the digestive products of heavy meals taken too late at night. However, I have to admit that this opinion may be the consequence of selection bias: the few dreams that I remember tend to be those that follow such heavy meals. Physiologists tell … Continue reading →

From the unwanted compulsory television point of view, there are far worse airports than Paris Charles de Gaulle. At least no sound emanates from the devilish screens installed there, whereas in many airports the sound is turned on loud enough to be hard to ignore, but too soft to be intelligible (the volume must have been carefully calculated by someone with this in mind). Oddly enough, the intonation always suffices to tell you that what is said is drivel, in the same way that a dog can understand what you say by the tone of your voice. Broadcast drivel has … Continue reading →