CHRIS Whitty gives every impression of being the most depressed man in England. On Thursday, England’s chief medical officer issued more doom-laden prophecies in an apparent determination to re-categorise the seasons: spring, summer, and death.
He told the Royal College of GPs’ annual conference: ‘I regret to say [winter] is going to be exceptionally difficult for the NHS. That is, irrespective of whether we have a relatively low but non-trivial amount of Covid, or whether we actually have a further surge.’
Is this to be the pattern from henceforth: annual pre-winter fear-forecasts over nevertheless low levels of Covid-19?
Professor Whitty, let me tell you what the livers and lovers of life among us, those of us not entombed with you in your coffin of doom, hear you saying:
‘Despite having informed the nation it must learn to live alongside SARS-CoV-2, I/we will continue to pursue a zero-Covid strategy by stealth, so that the fear generated will provide the means of acceptance needed to introduce universal health passports. I/we shall continue to dodge the matters of an inefficacious vaccine, our wasteful, inefficient and inaccessible Covid-only health service and its unprecedented backlog of vulnerable patients, as Britain’s place in the post-Covid international order is of far greater importance than the wellbeing of its citizens.’
Whitty’s gloomy prediction puts him ahead even of Professor Neil Ferguson. He appears to be suffering from acute denial and from having dug himself in so deep that he can only carry on digging into the abyss of his own making. If only somebody would give him a shake and make him look up he might finally see the light. One suspects it would be too much to face. He is drowning in the puddle of confected data, by his own admission: ‘I think if you asked 100 modellers you’re going to get over 100 answers exactly as to how this [winter] is going to go.’
Professor Whitty, for your own sake as well as ours, isn’t it time to stop modelling and start investing in humanity? Or have you none? We the people are exactly that: people. We are not binary code, although I suspect, based upon your new sub-office’s inaugural attempt to tackle the mental health crisis you have created with their infantile wellbeing widget, this is all you understand.
According to the Telegraph, 300 people a day are going to A&E with depression, unable to access GP services, but that didn’t stop Whitty’s bent-double, suicidal tone at the conference: ‘I wish I could claim that it’ll be fantastic by Christmas, but sadly, I’m afraid that is not the case.’
Is the physician to the nation suffering from a phobia increasingly prevalent among those of his profession: an obsessive control disorder centring on a fear of death and terror of risk, an integral part of life that can never be managed?
To have a healthy relationship with death is to have understood the frailty of existence and embraced whatever precious time it affords.
At present, Whitty et al are doing all within their power to prohibit, tarnish or erase altogether the simple pleasures of life with their scorched earth Covid-19 agenda. They are fanatically sucking the enchantment out of existence for those who understand its fleeting nature. Even doctors and frontline healthcare staff have succumbed, all falling under the spell of Whitty’s phobia of the finite.
So focused is he on making life joyless to the paradoxical point of there being no separation between it and the death he so fears – in what can only be a protective ‘coping strategy’ – that even his Covid-19 guidance formulated for the departed reads as if it were the very same for the living.
According to the UK Health Security Agency’s recently updated ‘Guidance for care of the deceased with suspected or confirmed coronavirus’, the dead are to be treated not as departed relatives or friends whose lives are to be mourned and celebrated but literally as pox-spreading zombies, the memories of whom will be for ever tarnished by protocol born of Whitty’s terror of death.
Those with a person who has died are advised to not touch the deceased, move two metres away or to another room and if indoors, open all the windows.
‘Placing a barrier, such as a cloth or mask, over the mouth of the deceased when moving them may prevent the release of droplets from the respiratory tract.’ Even the dead must wear masks in Britain.
No, Professor Whitty, the livers and lovers of life amongst us will not be corrupted by your callous advice. We shall continue to rush to the sides of our loved ones during their final moments, and if they depart we will kiss and touch them until the reality of their expiry dawns.
If there is any window to be opened, it should be to purge the home of the stench of your suicidal doctrine which is so terrifyingly contributing to the failing mental health of the nation and to the desperation of so many young people.
Professor Whitty, it’s you, not Covid, that people should fear. Please go.