Philosophy

:::quote
“We must see that peace represents a sweeter music, a cosmic melody, that is far superior to the discourse of war”

~ [Martin Luther King](https://www.nobelprize.org/prizes/peace/1964/king/lecture/)
:::

One of the many iconic quotes from one of the most iconic men in history, it poetically sums up the beauty of peacetime in a way that could only come from that man. But, while I agree with the overall sentiment, I believe that in these modern times, the issue it addresses has become far more complex, that maybe peace is no longer as harmonious and happy as it once was, and that war has given a few people different views.

![Martin Luther King Jr. leads a pacifist rally in New York, protesting U.S. involvement in the Vietnam war|900x675](https://res.cloudinary.com/fledger/image/upload/v1683589802/post/war_luther_king_azdwks.jpg "Martin Luther King Jr. leads a pacifist rally in New York, protesting U.S. involvement in the Vietnam war. AFP/AFP/Getty.")

War is a uniquely human fascination, nowhere else in the animal kingdom do species pit millions of their own kind against each other in a fight to the death, often in response to petty squabbles of the ruling elites. It destroys families, friendships, and souls. It can break apart entire nations, devastate communities and cause irreversible damage to the fabric of humanity. Some people have never known anything but war, while others still suffer its consequences decades later. Sons watch on as their fathers are shot to death by strangers, while mothers find their daughters blown apart by shrapnel. Parents outlive their children as boys and girls fight unknown people, in unknown lands for unknown reasons.

Yet humans have an astounding infatuation with war, thousands of books and songs have been written covering every conceivable gruesome detail. While one of the most popular genres of movies in the world is war films, they make billions at the box office, and actors are paid millions of pounds to star in them. History lessons are filled with statistics detailing every death, date and duration of wars fought since the birth of Christ. Poems and stories are echoed like gospel to children old enough to understand them as we grow up learning about every hero and every villain, every victory and every defeat, every conqueror, and every sadist.

This avid obsession with such a grotesque and abhorrent spectacle seems so peculiar, that on the surface it looks as if mankind has well and truly lost it, exorcized the morals which we as a species cherish and pride ourselves on, and locked them in a dark room never to be seen again. I’m sure you, like myself, have seen the videos of war online that display the horrible nature of conflict, yet keep us watching with a morbid fascination. Yet, if you can look past this vast network of information, and delve deeper while analysing real-world examples, this hobby of death begins to make sense.

The Siege of Sarajevo took place in Bosnia and Herzegovina during the Bosnian civil war of the 90s. It was a brutal and unrelenting siege lasting nearly 4 years, with civilians trapped between constant sniper fire and indiscriminate artillery. Listening to survivors’ stories though starts to paint a surprisingly glass-half-full kind of attitude towards it. Sebastien Junger is a war journalist who went to Sarajevo 20 years after the siege. [In his book *Tribe*](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tribe_(Junger_book)), he details how people would quietly hint about how much they actually missed the war and the people they had become during it. He talks about how his taxi driver on the way from the airport had been in a special army unit which slipped through enemy defences to help stranded soldiers, then he pointed to the dashboard and said, “*Now look at me*”.

Another survivor from the siege was Nidzara Ahmetasevic, a now well-regarded Bosnian journalist, she was only 17 at the time of war breaking out. Despite being hit by shrapnel in the opening few weeks, she seems to reminisce to Junger about her experience there in a very positive way. She remembers the way people in the siege worked together as a community to ensure their own and everyone else’s survival. They would eat meals together, sleep on the same floor together, and would constantly socialise in a way that Western societies today would never dream of. Six months into the siege, Ahmetasevic’s parents managed to get her evacuated to Italy, so she could properly recover from her previous injury. Despite the safety and life of almost luxury compared to living in war-torn Bosnia, she talks about how all she could think of while in Italy was a sense of loneliness and longing to get back, worried that her friends and family would die without her being there. She told Junger “*I missed being that close to people, I missed being loved in that way*”. So, shortly after recovering from her wounds, she made her way back to Sarajevo, leaving the almost idyllic surroundings of Italy for the death and destruction of her home.

![The Siege of Sarajevo, Bosnia, lasted nearly four years and claimed more than 10,000 lives|640x360](https://res.cloudinary.com/fledger/image/upload/v1683589803/post/war_sarajevo_octktx.jpg "The Siege of Sarajevo, Bosnia, lasted nearly four years and claimed more than 10,000 lives. AFP/AFP/Getty.")

There are more recent examples of this as well. The unity and all in this together attitude of the Ukrainian people in their fight against Russia has been well documented, civilians and soldiers of all classes and backgrounds have come together as one country. I spoke to Mariam Naiem, a Ukrainian journalist, who since the start of the war has seen the effects on both herself and the people around her. “*In war you start to care about each other a lot more, you start to value people a lot more. […] Somehow war makes everything crystal clear, in some ways I’m very ‘grateful’ for war because I started to understand my part in society*”.

While millions of people have left Ukraine amidst a massive refugee crisis, that hasn’t stopped hundreds of expat Ukrainians returning to their birthplace. Similar to Sarajevo and Ahmetasevic, many people don’t want to be on the side-lines, and they’re willing to give up lives of relative luxury for a warzone. Naiem thinks that the sense of community felt is a huge draw “*I think this is one reason that Ukrainians want to go back to Ukraine, because there is a lot of pros to be out of the country like you won’t be killed by a Russian bomb [sic], but everyone wants to go back, think of it like you’re outside on a cold day and you want to go back to your warm blanket. Ukraine is that warm blanket*”.

It isn’t just full-scale warzones where people can experience so much peace and purpose during destruction. An Irish psychologist named H.A. Lyons found that suicide rates in Belfast dropped 50 per cent during the riots of 1969 and 1970, while homicide and other violent crimes also went down. Depression rates for both men and women declined abruptly during that period with men experiencing the most extreme drop in the most violent districts. While County Derry on the other hand which saw almost no violence at all, saw depression rates rise. In his 1979 journal of Psychosomatic research Lyons states “When people are actively engaged in a cause their lives had more purpose… with a resulting improvement in mental health”.

> Maybe that’s why people can find such a “relief” during wartime, it provides a break from the stresses and reality of the systems we have built around us.

Looking at these examples you begin to realise the appeal and almost psychological benefits of war. Community is a stalwart human necessity which helped us evolve into the most advanced species planet Earth has ever known, community is what helps people get through the toughest of times by knowing they don’t have to go through it alone, community is how uncontacted tribes have survived thousands of years without what Westerners would class as basic human necessities. And during war, community is never felt stronger.

Although these ‘benefits’ of war should probably be looked at less as the positives to take away from war and more used to highlight some of the increasingly growing social and cultural problems in Western society; Ahmetasevic was very clear about this during her interview “*Whatever I say about the war I still hate it. […] I believe that the world we are living in and the peace that we have, is very fucked up if somebody is missing war. And many people do*”. It’s a tragedy of our modern culture that some people so lack in community that they seek out active warzones just to feel a scintilla of support.

![A young woman sits at her desk whilst working from home, bored and unenthused|2048x1371](https://res.cloudinary.com/fledger/image/upload/v1683589793/post/war_work_comp_giajvv.jpg "Modern society has us trapped in glass cages, sitting at desks for eight hours a day working for next month’s rent, next month’s food, and next month’s dream.")

Life in Western societies can be a very lonely place, to quote the rapper Dave; “we’re all alone in this together” perfectly sums up how despite the growing number of people living in denser and denser populated areas, [people can still feel more alone than ever](https://www.psychologytoday.com/gb/blog/living-single/202206/who-is-spending-the-most-time-alone#:~:text=People%20between%2040%20and%2059,spend%20about%207%20hours%20alone). Cultures and societies have put so much emphasis on the individual and the self, which no doubt has benefits when it comes to success and individuality, but have forgotten the importance of human interaction, not on social media, not in a metaverse, but raw, in-person human cooperation. Evidence shows that depression and loneliness are closely linked, [especially in people over the age of 50](https://evidence.nihr.ac.uk/alert/loneliness-strongly-linked-depression-older-adults/), with almost one in five cases of depression linked to people suffering from loneliness the previous year. Loneliness not only varies by age but also by gender, men over the age of 60 who are living with a spouse spend almost double the amount of time alone than said spouse. Men of the same age bracket living alone averaged 43 per cent of their waking hours alone compared to 34 per cent for women.

::post{#the-working-from-home-mistake}

Maybe that’s why people can find such a “relief” during wartime, it provides a break from the stresses and reality of the systems we have built around us. Systems that have helped create some of mankind’s greatest advancements, systems that have provided unparalleled food and water security, systems that have allowed humans more comforts in life than their ancestors ever could have dreamed of, but systems that are isolating, relentless, and sometimes mentally unrewarding. Systems that have people trapped in glass cages, sitting at desks for eight hours a day working for next month’s rent, next month’s food, next month’s dream. Humans can spend half their existence grinding a job they hate that they begin to struggle to tell the difference between life and work. The only system in war is survival, and this primal instinct can help simplify matters and re-align one’s values. People no longer worry about paying for their Netflix subscription or their new watch, as there is only the self and others to care for. Rupi Kaur once wrote about community that:

:::quote
If we’re present to take part in your happiness

When your circumstances are great

We are more then capable

Of sharing your pain

~ [Rupi Kaur](https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/9511255-when-the-world-comes-crashing-at-your-feet-it-s-okay)
:::

This echoes never louder than in war, and maybe peacetime could take a hint from it too.

War is not the answer.

War is not the solution.

War is not the way forward.

But war can fill a hole in people’s lives. It can give them meaning and purpose in an increasingly confusing world.

War is kill or be killed.

War is die or survive.

War is win or lose.

War isn’t filled with taxes, office parties and boring 9-5 jobs. War isn’t working out what to wear for a siblings wedding or a first date.

War is a simple, binary kind of existence, never being able to worry about the future, only thinking about the present. And there’s a kind of harmony to that.

The only system in war is survival, and this primal instinct can help simplify matters and re-align one’s values.

Does war offer more community than peace ever could?

India, a land of vibrant energy and optimism, is emerging as a powerhouse, while Britain's outdated perception is crumbling into dread and impending disaster.

I’m British. India is a better country than the U.K.

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The remains of what was once the temple of Vesta lie to the south of the Roman Forum. For centuries in the centre of that circular temple blazed the sacred flame. It was believed that the entire empire depended on this fire to the extent that if one of the priestesses charged with its care failed and the flame was extinguished, she was buried alive. Then Rome declared itself Christian, the persecuted became the state religion and what had been one of its most ancient beliefs until that time faded away. Some believe the very emperor took it upon himself to extinguish the flame and shut down the temple. Even Celia Concordia, the last Vestal, eventually converted to Christianity a decade later.

We are no strangers to change. History is full of such moments where small changes suddenly become an abrupt event that changes everything. What has shifted is the speed at which such changes happen and the way we deal with them. Toffler was already warning in the 1980s about the impact of this increased speed and how important it would be to teach students to learn, unlearn and relearn. Only in my lifetime has Pluto ceased to be a planet (it became a dwarf), Homo sapiens and Neanderthals have been found to be contemporaries, and MDMA and psilocybin are about to become the next trendy therapies.

This summer, while walking through the Roman forum, I could not shake off the feeling that, despite the return to this new normality between ideological fights, economic crisis, scientific debates, and aliens ruling the world, we were in one of those moments. The pillars that supported our reality were collapsing, and the fear of uncertainty was turning us into a more dogmatic and polarised society.

The philosopher Victoria Camps not long ago said in an interview that we live in a time of little doubt. It seems that it has lost prestige. In times as accelerated as ours, we seek certainty and firm convictions. People who doubt are seen as indecisive, unpredictable, and incapable of leading. The new gurus, now called influencers, tell us it's all about empowerment and positive thinking: "Trust in yourself and you will make it, don't hesitate, focus on your goals, go to the gym, be light, upbeat, don't overthink it and stay away from any toxic people" (i.e. those who challenge you).

> We prefer the comfort of conviction over the discomfort of doubt. We listen to opinions that make us feel good, rather than ideas that make us think too hard.

Everywhere you go, you hear echoes of the same message as if it were some corporate ethics marketing campaign designed for productivity (Oh, capitalism!); Doubt can be paralysing, sure. But too much self-indulgence doesn't help us either. It is turning us into an increasingly simplistic and, if possible, even more, narcissistic society. This cultural message that tells us to be confident but does not teach us to rethink encourages us to build super egos instead of healthy egos and move through life like little emperors projecting self-confidence. Doubt, which used to be the basis of critical thinking, has become a tool of polarisation. The amount of information we are exposed to has not made us wiser, it has made us more biassed.

Without a dose of critical analysis, this emphasis on personal empowerment, rather than a demonstration of strength, seems to hide tremendous collective anxiety. Letting go of ingrained beliefs can be difficult; we associate them with our identity and in a world that changes at an increasingly vertiginous speed, we become attached to them like a stranded person to a board.

And besides, we are all a bit biassed. We see the world through certain lenses and are constantly reinterpreting it according to our experience; The fact that there are subjective truths does not imply that there are no objective truths without which there would be no consensus of reality; As a journalist said in an article I recently read: "a stadium full of sick people is one of them"- referring to the objective truth of covid transmission.

The problem comes when the fear of losing our identity makes us contort the truth to adapt it to what we want to hear. Psychologists call it confirmation bias, this pernicious tendency to select and give more credibility to information that confirms our beliefs or actions; It is our way of reducing the discomfort we feel when an event or some idea clashes with our beliefs. In our need for certainty, we try to convince ourselves (and others) that we are right. We don't seek to know; we want to reassert ourselves. And the more people think like us, the more we assert ourselves.

When none of the predictions of the digital cult *QAnon* came true, many of its followers didn't care, they flipped the narrative and continued to believe that Trump was the saviour of the world.
In the words of Adam Grant: "We prefer the comfort of conviction over the discomfort of doubt. We listen to opinions that make us feel good, rather than ideas that make us think too hard." By assuming that we don't have all the facts and that we may be wrong, we must accept a degree of uncertainty and that makes us uncomfortable; In the realm of unpredictability, we feel we lose control.

![Manipulative lies lead to Trump supporters storming the US Capitol building](https://res.cloudinary.com/fledger/image/upload/v1669063544/post/rome_capitol_comp-min_oerlc7.jpg "Manipulative lies lead to Trump supporters storming the US Capitol building on January 6th, 2021. Source: [The Washington Post](https://www.washingtonpost.com/podcasts/post-reports/the-scars-of-january-6th/).")

We know that lies have always been a weapon of political manipulation and that much of the information circulating through the networks only seeks to create impact and manipulate emotions, feeding existing fears and prejudices and creating more polarisation. But, faced with the feeling of threat, we withdraw into ourselves, and fake news feeds on our need for certainty. We want security, even if it is based on an illusion, to the point of believing that the American democratic party is a Satanic cult and Hilary Clinton is the antichrist. Even the Dalai Lama was considered part of the evil Cabal. It is one thing to disagree with a political party; it is quite another to have extreme voices in the media amplifying the “Us" versus "Them" narrative, fuelling mistrust among one another and turning fear of uncertainty into a messianic movement.

To question ourselves does not necessarily imply changing our values; it means being capable and humble enough to change our beliefs when the facts we took for granted turn out not to be accurate or when new data appear. It does not make us weaker; it makes us wiser. An active belief always rethinks itself; Critical thinking does not mean a lack of convictions, it means being open to more; In other words, being open to being wrong.

Moments of uncertainty, when chaos breaks our schemes, are also opportunities to rethink. Insecurity allows us to raise questions. And we should. In a world that demands expediency, we seek to have an opinion formed as quickly as possible, consuming information without stopping to think where it comes from and reading articles over the top to have an opinion that reinforces our belief system.

We live in societies that encourage us to be efficient but not to think; Reflecting requires time, it involves listening and in our fast-paced lives, we forge opinions through tweets in which there is no room for arguments. And to top it off, with the number of stimuli we are subjected to daily, we are losing the ability to concentrate.

We live in times where choosing to go beyond polarisation is the most radical act. Relativizing, accepting that reality is full of nuances and paradoxes, seeing things in their complexity and being able to live with a certain degree of ambiguity are what give us the tools to face moments of great uncertainty. Grey takes courage.

:::quote
“The believer will open his mind to the truth on condition that it conforms to his preconceived ideas and desires. Faith, on the other hand, is an unreserved opening of the mind to the truth, whatever it may be.”
:::

Allan watts tells us in his book the wisdom of insecurity.

Insecurity, used as a tool of knowledge, is creative. When all our questions collide with reality, new ideas emerge. It's the path that every innovator has followed; Stepping into the unknown, our senses are sharpened. A strength arises when instead of holding on to old beliefs, we allow them to grow, evolve and live on in other ways.

Stepping foot in Rome is like entering into a long conversation with the history of its beliefs. There is so much beauty in its decay that it is almost provocative; It reminds us that we are full of incomplete truths in which we fully trust; That as much as we need structures to sustain us, life ultimately is impermanent, and that the sacredness of its myths is not in its truths but the space there is to keep discovering them, to keep interpreting them. The temple of the vestals may no longer exist except in ruins, but the fire that has been lighting us for centuries continues to burn in each of our homes, whether in the candles we light, the bonfires around which we tell stories or the fireplaces that keep us warm.

In our fast-paced lives, we are losing the ability to reflect and think critically.

What happened when I ditched self-empowerment and embraced critical thinking

I must admit, at risk of some well-deserved cries of “boomer”, that until recently I was of those types who hated “modern architecture”. It is a regrettable fact that our country has suffered at the hands of self-aggrandizing architects, let loose on our skylines. [Some 77% of Britons reported that they preferred classical architecture to contemporary designs](https://adamarchitecture.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/04/YouGov-survey_Oct09_resultsfollowup.pdf) and yet newer and ever more abstract designs are approved for erection across the country. How can it be that the public is so overwhelmingly against something which continues to happen and shows no signs of changing? I genuinely could not understand how we had strayed so far from the path set out for us in so many public buildings from previous centuries. I stared in disbelief at people who claimed to enjoy the steel and glass monstrosities that festooned our cities. Indeed, I even welled up at the thought of old buildings being bulldozed to make space or, the ultimate humiliation, an old building being irrevocably “modernized”, such as the *Royal Ontario Museum* or the *Bundeswehr Military History Museum* in Dresden.

![A photograph of The Royal Ontario Museum in Toronto, Canada](https://res.cloudinary.com/fledger/image/upload/v1664828664/post/architecture_ontario-min-min_nshlm3.webp "One of the buildings in question is the Royal Ontario Museum, with the original 20th-century facade and its crystal-like modern architectural growth. Source: [The Royal Ontario Museum](https://libeskind.com/work/royal-ontario-museum/)")

In particularly challenging circumstances, such as when X was replaced by Y and immediately collapsed,  I even began to wonder whether there was a deeper meaning behind what I perceived to be complete idiocy. Enter the smoky pub backroom that is [4chan](http://www.4chan.org/). Long threads complete with suitably monochrome and grainy *before*, and their accompanying garish *after* pictures demonstrating the ubiquitous decline in standards and appreciation for beauty. Eminent figures on the intellectual right feature a little less frequently, providing more proof, in a disembodied way that the West was in peril of losing its identity forever. This fear of loss is a powerful motivator, not that it requires much to provoke rage on the internet, and there was a palpable sense that the closing of an underutilised church would quickly lead to burning the Magna Carta and Sharia law.

Of course, the slow adaptation of our physical environment was the inevitable consequence of times and tastes changing, not a grand conspiracy to rob the West of its distinctive architectural heritage. However, when combined with the usual story of the construction being of poor quality, over-budget and delayed (double points if it’s at the taxpayer’s expense), it conveys the comforting thought that no, it’s not you, it’s the world.

It is easy to accept these thoughts, and those thoughts many others have written more effectively, on the subject of confirmation bias so I won’t go into it further here. Although, I’ve found that a far fewer number have written about unconfirming that bias. I have recently returned from a holiday to Italy, and I fully imagined the trip would be one long parade of “this is how it’s supposed to be” architecture. I was utterly convinced that the Italians had some of the finest architecture in the world, which was in no small part due to their reverence of classical and renaissance forms.

Alas, it was not to be. Having been fully immersed in the heady Italian mix of museums, mausoleums, masonry and mosaics, I can safely say I no longer believe the millenarian woes which afflict so many people on the right. It is not that I don’t find classical architecture beautiful anymore, if anything, the trip entrenched my love. It is that not every building is a masterpiece, which is a necessary fact for the argument that “old is objectively better”. Take for example, the *Altare della Patria* in Rome (I realise that this argument would be far stronger if the building were actually ancient, but for the sake of the article just pretend that it is). I wager that if you were to show most people on the street a picture of the building, they would recognise it with words such as “Classical”, “Roman”, “Greek” or words to that effect. Its real heritage as a 19th-century imitation isn’t an academic quibble, but the root of the issue.

![A photograph of the Altare della Patria in Rome](https://res.cloudinary.com/fledger/image/upload/v1664828658/post/architecture_altare-min-min_fwh5we.webp "The *Altare della Patria* in Rome, a columned caricature of classical architecture.")

I think what really broke the illusion was gaudiness. It seemed that the building had identified a few key motifs of classical architecture and amplified them to ludicrous proportions. The massive Quadriga statues seemingly dwarf the building they sit on, only to be dwarfed themselves by the truly monstrous equestrian statue of Victor Emmanuel II. I didn’t feel inspired or impressed by the façade, nor did I think it was even a good imitation of the Forum that it supposedly replicates. If anything at all, looking up at it made me feel a little dizzy. It wasn’t until the evening that I thought back and was disquieted to remember that I had been so unimpressed. Worse yet, I had dinner that evening across from the Spanish Steps and once again felt the now familiar faintly apathetic feeling.

> It is not that I don’t find classical architecture beautiful anymore, if anything, the trip entrenched my love. It is that not every building is a masterpiece, which is a necessary fact for the argument that ‘old is objectively better’.

It was even later on, after I had returned to England that it dawned on me how fundamental this feeling was, and how incongruous it was with how I thought I felt about aesthetics in general. I didn’t quite hear glass shattering, or scales falling away, but perhaps the dim rays of a lightbulb flickered into view. Not all classical buildings were beautiful, just as today, many of the structures we throw up leave something to be desired visually. Equally, the cognitive dissonance of quietly being thankful that Augustus “found a city of bricks and left a city of marble”; whilst bemoaning the knocking down and remodelling of our own cities started to unravel my thoughts. Once the entrenchment of this long-held belief was uprooted, more obvious conclusions made themselves known: the survivorship bias of taking old buildings today as indicative of what the architectural landscape would have been, Poundbury being both schizophrenic and twee simultaneously, if I can find something like the Vittoria gaudy, is it any wonder there are people who view all classical styles with distaste?

I like to think that this one incidence of introspection unravelling decades of self-indoctrination appeals well to the Theroux’s, Ronson’s or Maddix’s of this world. After all, a common argument used in their defence against claims of banality, irreverence or improper distribution of the world’s limited bandwidth on social issues is that laughter dispels tyranny. While I agree that it isn’t a complete analogy (again, just pretend that it is for my sake) as I didn’t weep with mirth at the sight of the palace. But I think part of their style has been vindicated. It wasn’t a fundamental rebuttal with long sentences and a host of sources, nor a “definite” answer from “experts” who “agree” that you’re “totally wrong” headline in [*The Atlantic*](https://www.theatlantic.com/). All it took was a long stare at a literally palatial question mark for me to start questioning my own assumptions. Perhaps we would all be better off with a two-hundred-metre-tall cut-out of Louis saying “Are you sure?” in every city. Although, I pray that we bulldoze something postmodern to make space for it.

Our physical environment changing is the consequence of times and tastes changing, not a grand conspiracy to rob the West of its architectural heritage.

Learn to love modern architecture: it's not as bad as you think

The Michaela Community School in Wembley – Britain’s strictest school, according to headlines – is no stranger to criticism. Nor is its headmistress, Katharine Birbalsingh. The social mobility tsar shot to fame after speaking at the Conservative Party conference in 2010, where she claimed that ‘the system is broken because it keeps poor children poor’. Since then, she has become known for her outspoken views on how modern culture negatively impacts education, and indeed society at large. These opinions have gained her some influential friends, but numerous enemies too. In January, Birbalsingh came under fire for suggesting that parents ought to be taking an [active role](https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/katharine-birbalsingh-teach-at-home-every-day-strictest-head-tells-parents-t755hfllz) in their children’s learning, and more recently, her vision of social mobility sparked outrage in the press and on social media.

A teacher who found the current education system deficient enough to have started up her own free school is never going to be popular with everyone, especially if she styles herself as a ‘small c conservative’ (the Tories aren’t traditional enough, she says) and endorses methods that wouldn’t have been out of place in the classrooms of 1872. There is something of Charlotte Bronte’s Mr Brocklehurst, the tyrannical headmaster who chokes all warmth and happiness out of his own establishment, Lowood school, in the idea of giving a pupil detention for forgetting their second pencil.

And yet Michaela is no Lowood. The school was rated [outstanding](https://reports.ofsted.gov.uk/provider/23/140862) by Ofsted in all areas, from effectiveness of leadership and management to outcomes for pupils. Strikingly, the report notes that students are strongly supported by staff in their ‘personal, social and emotional development’: they become keen readers, confident speakers, and ambitious achievers, participating with energy in their academic and extracurricular activities alike. The only issue flagged for improvement was the school’s provision of physical education, which has recently been limited due to reduced access to external sporting facilities.

![Katharine Birbalsingh speaks to her students at The Michaela Community School in Wembley|1200x801](https://res.cloudinary.com/fledger/image/upload/v1664475053/post/birbalsingh_students_comp_zbar79.webp "Katharine Birbalsingh places enormous importance on the role of individuals in overcoming systemic disadvantages in their own lives – an attitude profoundly shaped by her own experiences teaching underprivileged pupils over the years. Source: [The New Statesmen](https://www.newstatesman.com/politics/uk-politics/2021/02/be-honest-about-how-bad-things-are-our-kids-katharine-birbalsingh-why).")

None of the students in the recent ITV documentary, *Britain’s Strictest Headmistress*, seemed unhappy. They responded to interview questions with a spirited defence of Birbalsingh’s outlook. As they cheerfully queued up to hand in their smartphones as part of the school’s voluntary ‘digital detox’ scheme, there was a real sense of understanding among them that the rules were put in place to help them thrive – not to hold them back.

Gratitude is another key part of education at Michaela. Five minutes are reserved at every lunchtime for students to express an ‘appreciation’, which encourages them to think positively about what they are given in their daily lives: encouragement from their parents, a particularly good lesson from a teacher, or even a detention. Outlandish as these methods might be, they clearly foster results. As the Ofsted report and multiple visitors to the school have noted, students at Michaela are joyful, polite, and perhaps most impressively, kind to one another.

A disciplined environment, with strict regulations and limited access to technology is, according to Michaela’s teachers, the best recipe for a safe environment. I know from my own experience that this is true: I went to a similar school myself between the ages of twelve and sixteen. Although its location was quite different from Michaela’s (it was in rural France as opposed to central London), we handed in our phones upon arrival, set the tables at mealtimes, and were required to stand up when our teachers arrived. I can now admit to whispering in the corridors when I knew I could get away with it, but I still look back on my years there as among the happiest of my life. Of all the different schools I attended, it was the only one where I knew that bullying, for example, or losing another one of my toenails in the daily stampede towards the cafeteria, weren’t things that I needed to worry about. There is much to be said for dealing with these kinds of problems by making sure that there isn’t any room for them to occur in the first place.

> To admit that she is right would mean recognising that there is something amiss with our education system and the principles shaping it.

However, criticisms of Birbalsingh and her methods go far beyond the issue of choosing one set of classroom management techniques over another. They are, rather, related to the matter of what discipline means within an educational setting, and of the purpose it serves. Birbalsingh’s approach tackles the formation of each student’s character within a wider social context. She places enormous importance on the role of individuals in overcoming systemic disadvantages in their own lives – an attitude profoundly shaped by her own experiences teaching underprivileged pupils over the years. [99.2%](https://www.schooldash.com/school/140862/) of Michaela students come from ethnic minority backgrounds (5% higher than the average across the ten closest surrounding schools), and almost a quarter of them are eligible for free school meals. 

Though recognising these drawbacks and how they affect her students, Birbalsingh insists that modern discourse focuses upon them too heavily, removing any hope that these can be surmounted on an individual level, and serving in the end only to ease the guilt of the privileged whilst creating a “victim mentality” which discourages disadvantaged students from even attempting to excel. In this area too, Birbalsingh’s outlook appears to have brought about astounding success: [The Schools Guide](https://www.theschoolsguide.com/schools/secondary/michaela-community-school-140862/) awarded Michaela a score of 100% in its ‘progress’ category, which considers the levels of academic improvement made by students between joining the school and sitting their GCSEs and A-levels. The schools rated highest in this category are those that take on low-achieving pupils and succeed in helping them to obtain excellent results. The accomplishments of Michaela students, compared to other schools in the area and indeed considered on their own, seem to vindicate their headmistress’ conservative attitudes in the world of education.

It is the paradox of Katharine Birbalsingh that makes her so controversial: she achieves the results coveted by progressives through espousing traditional values with a rigour that initially makes you flinch. A simple overview of her school’s consistently stellar achievements indicates that there must be something to this approach, but to admit that she is right would mean recognising that there is something amiss with our education system and the principles shaping it.

![Jordan Peterson sits down with students at The Michaela Community School, whilst Katharine Birbalsingh stands behind him.|1200x900](https://res.cloudinary.com/fledger/image/upload/v1664475053/post/perterson_school_comp_i3eq2j.webp "To this day, Katharine Birbalsingh continues to receive backlash for her conservative teaching methods, with the latest development occurring after a visit by commentator Jordan Peterson.")

After all, education is a matter that touches all other areas of social and cultural policy: the question of what students learn, how they learn it, and the environments in which they do so encompasses issues from the philosophical to the political. So, what can we learn from Birbalsingh’s success?

For one thing, we might learn not to be afraid of tradition. Since the ’60s, we have been a culture obsessed with the new, to the point where ‘old-fashioned’ is almost synonymous with ‘bad’ or ‘ineffective’. To lose some of this obsession wouldn’t mean idealising the past, but instead learning to treasure what works whilst remaining flexible enough to recognise problems and implement change where it is needed. This is particularly important when working with children and teenagers, who by nature require consistency blended carefully with adaptability. Although education is shaped by ideologies to a certain extent, the unbending need to prove a political point within it hampers the possibility of being able to provide this blend – with effects that then feed into every aspect of life. Birbalsingh has been criticised for adhering too austerely to the precepts of the past, but it is possible that in abandoning them, we have moved too far in the opposite direction, and thus become far truer examples of the very rigidity of which she is frequently accused. This would account for [the torrents of abuse](https://www.theguardian.com/education/2014/sep/05/katharine-birbalsingh-regret-telling-tories-education-system-broken) that she faced in the years following her speech at the Conservative Party conference, and that she and her staff [continue to experience](https://twitter.com/Miss_Snuffy/status/1556964770451902464) over a decade later.

Michaela’s results since its earliest days have shown that traditional values and firm discipline can play an important role in helping to narrow the achievement gap between disadvantaged students and their more privileged counterparts. Now more than ever, it is critical to pay careful attention to how these results have been achieved. To dismiss Katharine Birbalsingh and the methods she has used to provide hundreds of young people with an excellent education, or worse, to simply to label them as tyrannical, would mean denying countless other students the chance to benefit from similar opportunities.

To dismiss Katharine Birbalsingh and her methods, would mean denying countless students the chance to benefit from an outstanding education.

Why I'm glad I went to a school with strict rules

Meeting up with a childhood friend is always weird and strange because it’s like meeting a younger version of you. The younger versions of Chloe and I went to the same schools through primary to college, and split off for University. Younger Chloe loved pink and romance books and traditionally feminine things, and younger me had a blue bedroom and short hair like a boy’s and loved action films. 21-year-old Chloe is beautifully bare-faced and has amazing blue-green hair and is about to begin her Master’s in the Lake District doing outdoor activities and hiking. 21-year-old Melita (that’s me) sits in makeup and a carefully cultivated outfit, writes for a living and adores her femininity. I like pink, and I love clothes, makeup and perfume. But there’s always been one huge difference in my mind that’s never changed; I am fat and she is not, and that will not ever change.

So 21-year-old Chloe and Melita sit down for cocktails and a catch-up, and she tells me “*You look like you’ve come into yourself. You look confident. It suits you.*” The statement confuses me; I’m still fat. I was under the impression that because I am a fat woman, I can’t ever come into myself. I’ll never look confident except if I wear something showing more than the socially acceptable slither of skin for fat people (I hear ‘I wish I had your confidence!’ in my nightmares) and I’ll never look comfortable, because how can a fat person be comfortable? God, look at her, can’t she go to the gym? And then that one simple comment sends me into a confused period of questioning my whole self-perception. I wrote my dissertation on how my life has been shaped by my position as a fat female, and I thought I had it figured out. I was working on the logic that fat isn’t a choice and that I had to just suck up and deal with it because I won’t look the same way forever but I’ll always be fat so what does it matter? If I can’t ever love myself I’ll pour all of the love left behind into supporting the people who look and feel like me.

The first part is true; fat isn’t a choice. Fat people are demonised to the extent that I couldn’t even eat in public. It’s a pretty common experience for fat and plus-size people, going out in public and then scoffing our faces the moment we close our doors in shame. I used to do that, and that wasn’t my fault. God forbid the fat girl eats during her busy day to stay alive, so I’d starve all day and binge once I got home to ‘protect’ people’s perception of me. I was putting people first constantly, even above my health. Society and the media ‘[tend to dramatize, moralize, and individualize body weight, particularly when referring to higher weights](https://read.dukeupress.edu/jhppl/article-abstract/30/5/869/83346/Weighing-Both-Sides-Morality-Mortality-and-Framing)’ and all plus-size people are aware of it, so we hide ourselves in baggy clothes and don’t eat, and once some of us are done binging, we make ourselves sick and repeat it all over again. That was my life, and I was smaller then, a size 14. I’m a size 16 now (the literal average size, mind you) and although I’m bigger, I eat a lot healthier. I’m happier. I’m stable. I make chicken alfredo, a meal I always wanted to try but never dared to because of the calories in the cream, and allow myself to have the same sugary cocktails as my friends. I didn’t have these things for years at all and tried to lose weight and I was miserable. Funnily enough, I hated vegetables back then because I refused to use oil or butter or garlic or anything that would make it taste flavourful, so I tried not to eat anything at all. Now I fry them up with butter and garlic and eat spinach with my eggs, peppers, baby corn and mangetout with my chicken. It’s healthier. I’m healthier, and I’m bigger, but who cares? I go back to that old almond mom saying - ‘a moment on the lips, forever on the hips’ and - come on. If we all say that every time, then none of us would eat anything good at all.

So I go back to Chloe telling me that I look confident, and go even further back to the Melita she knew in college, the 17-year-old who couldn’t wear white and hated tucking her shirts in case someone paid too much attention to the curve of her stomach. It overthrows every notion that I’ve had firmly planted in my brain since I was young and first dreamed of cutting my fat off with scissors. And sure, I still panic and turn to the side and stare at the slope of my stomach, but I shrug it off and put on bolder clothes and a tighter dress and let my friends talk me into buying the food I want in a restaurant. I look at Chloe, and I see her for who she is, someone who’s inevitably been through things and grown in the time we haven’t seen each other - and I look at myself in the mirror when I get home. Sure enough, there’s a line of ease in my shoulders and a sense of contentment in my face, and I’m not sure when it got there. I’ve healed and recovered and bettered myself without losing weight. Maybe one day I will lose weight, maybe I’ll gain more. But what I do is between me, my doctors, and my friends, so I suppose being content as a fat person isn’t impossible. I hope all people who feel like me, who look like me, find that ease and contentment with themselves without causing any harm to themselves, because it is possible. It’s always been possible.

Feeling ease and contentment as a plus-size person doesn't have to mean losing weight.