We have all seen our share of pro-Lockdown politicians and scientists getting caught violating the rules they imposed on the public in the last two years.
My favorite example still remains Neil Ferguson, the British epidemiologist of the Imperial College London who arguably played one of the most important roles in bringing about the global lockdowns. In late March and early April 2020, at the same time that he was lecturing the public on why they would be killing grandma if they violated social distancing policies, Ferguson’s married mistress visited him twice in spite of him contracting covid-19 earlier and her telling colleagues she suspected her husband to have the virus.
Ferguson was forced to resign, but he went out with a bang – telling the press: “I acted in the belief that I was immune, having tested positive for coronavirus and completely isolating myself for almost two weeks after developing symptoms.” He could not fathom that the public would be able to apply the same common sense as him.
Contempt of the ruling classes for the normal folk is not new by any stretch of the imagination. Throughout history, elites have expressed disdain for the working classes supposedly being unable to morally restrain themselves. That’s why rulers, from ancient Greece to medieval and early modern France and England imposed sumptuary laws that tried – but often failed – to regulate consumption. But there were other reasons, too. In premodern Europe, the nobility often outlawed the conspicuous consumption of certain goods by prosperous middle classes in order to try to reinforce social hierarchies.
The Dutch Republic, which in many ways was a beacon of liberty in an oasis of absolute monarchies, managed to evade the practice for the most part. Yet, this did not stop Calvinist fanatics from trying to institute sumptuary laws and preaching against popular festivals such as Saint Martin’s Day and Saint Nicholas.
One such preacher was Nicolaes Tulp, a Dutch surgeon and mayor of Amsterdam in the mid-seventeenth century. Many people might know him as the subject of a famous Rembrandt painting The Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Nicolaes Tulp. With the help of his lobbying, the magistrate passed a proclamation in 1663 outlawing the selling of “blasphemous” cookies and candles in the figure of saints, a tradition that survives today in speculoos and chocolate Saint-Nicholases.
A couple of years earlier, in 1655, Tulp had managed to push through the first sumptuary law in Amsterdam, which aimed to restrict “extravagant” weddings by limiting the amount of guests to fifty. This is where it starts to sound familiar. Indeed, the law was passed against the backdrop of a rather bad outbreak of the plague, which continued to claim a heavy toll in the 1650s and 1660s before disappearing forever.
Yet, Tulp did not practice what he preached. In January 1672, when the French troops of Louis XIV were getting ready to invade the Republic, an extravagant party was held in his house in the prestigious Keizersgracht at the occasion of the fiftieth anniversary of his membership of the city council. On the menu was fancy wine from Bourgogne and candied peacock, while perfumed tobacco was being carried around on the finest porcelain dishes. When he was criticized, Tulp insisted that the partygoers ate from wooden plates and had nothing but lettuce, stockfish, herring and other sober Dutch dishes.
Later that year, when Louis XIV’s invading troops were edging closer and closer to Amsterdam and the danger of a bank run increased, the city magistrate, which still included Tulp, adopted a second sumptuary law. This one outlawed all “unnecessary and sumptuous meals.”[1] Somehow, forced consumption restraint and rationing were supposed to relief the economic trouble, which was of course brought about by excessive government spending and public debt in the first place. Clearly, the “rules for thee but not for me” truism abounded in the cultural, political and economic spheres – just like today.
[1] Simon Schama, Overvloed en onbehagen: de Nederlandse cultuur in de Gouden Eeuw (Contact, 1988), 159-96.
I agree with what you’ve written however I’d like ro state that the absence of God in today’s society is primarily responsible for the decline in anyone willing to stand up for what is right. Nor does anyone have the courage to bring these evil monsters to book.
I found your sub stack as I was looking for some of your older writings or videos relating to secret societies, does that information still exist somewhere online?