Not hypocrites, elites
In the Middle Ages, there was such a practice as indulgences. This was when an individual, who had committed a venal sin, could be granted a pardon by a priest if he paid a sum to the Church or a charitable foundation, such as a hospital. There was some theological justification for this but by the early decades of the sixteenth century, the custom became entrenched and abused, by both sinners seeking leniency and the Church (or churchman) seeking money. It became, in practice, a means by which to circumvent penances – either in this world or the next – that a sinner would endure. It became a way to sin without consequence.
As oligarchs arrived for COP26, in fleets of jets, to hold an ecumenical council on promulgating neo-paganist tenets of Gaia worship, there was chatter about hypocrisy. Commentators pointed out that attendees produced more carbon emissions than the entire population of Scotland in one year. Critics noted leaders did not wear masks in private and that their retinues did not have to be COVID-compliant.
Naturally, there were accusations of hypocrisy, but these were wrong. The rules and principles they set out are not meant to apply to them. They are insulated by wealth or position. They can afford to pay jet-fuel duties or offset carbon emissions by paying for tree planting (modern-day indulgences) or taxpayers will do it for them. Hypocrisy exists when someone breaks a universal rule or a rule that applies to that person specifically. In a recent interview with Brendan O’Neill, Michael Shellenberger gets close to the truth when he wonders if the blatantness of the parading of power at COP26 is deliberate.
There is no hypocrisy. The COP26 attendees are elite oligarchs. They discuss laws and taxes that do not apply to them. These lavish banquets, private jets and hordes of flunkeys are not bad optics. Just as with the Met Gala, where celebrities paraded in $100,000 gowns without masks, while attended by staff in black muzzles, COP26 is an event designed to show differences. The symbolism is deliberate. It is a demonstration to their subjects, to fellow oligarchs and to would-be opponents, that they have enough power and control to spurn every rule they set out. They have enough confidence to humiliate the general public – to force subordinates to wear masks, while they do not.
The oligarchs do not fear public exposure. They do not fear reprisals or suffering the wrath of the ruled. After all, this is covered on international news. President Macron endured years of gilets jaunes protests and they changed nothing. When was the last coup in a Western nation?
In 1517, Martin Luther nailed theses for religious reform to the doors of Wittenberg Cathedral and within a decade popular outrage at Church corruption had been harnessed by a rival power elite to first challenge, then topple, the might of the Church. If you know your elite theory, you realise that democracy has never existed and common people have never ruled their own destiny. Any revolt is led by a new elite.
As in 1517, there is a growing sense that disconnection between an elite insulated by wealth (theirs or ours) is reaching a critical point. However, Luther ushered in an era that saw erosion of traditional values – an accelerating slope of humanism and liberalism that led to inevitable consequential corollaries of anti-humanism and illiberalism. What would serve us best is not someone exactly like Luther (who demanded that the elite conform to the principles they applied to others) but someone who abolishes neo-paganism and eco-alarmism, replacing them with values that are less anti-human.
We await our Martin Luther.