Musings and wanderings in the Daemon Wastes...

Category: Personal (Page 2 of 10)

Choosing a Direction…

Image of a Map

Like all of us, I imagine, I spend an amount of my time thinking about what I will do next professionally, and the more that I think about it, the more I am certain that while I might perhaps enjoy the pursuit of and attaining of a “C-Level” job in my field, either as a CTO or even a CEO in the IT / Software game, that frankly I may not want that after all.

I have blogged about this before, that I would like to develop games, that perhaps I would like to run my own company, but the third option, that I have not really talked about that much, is that I might just quite like to spend the rest of my working life as a consultant, a jobbing coder and system architect working for companies that want to effect a culture change specifically in the way that they build software, or even carry out a project that needs a fresh pair of eyes or a different set of skills.

The thing that I am bound to wonder at this point is do these kinds of gigs exist? The experience of some of my professional contacts would seem to suggest that they do. The guys who founded Juxt, who I know a bit through the Clojure community in London are essentially doing this, exactly this, by running their own company. While I was at the BBC I met a couple of consultants who were doing this kind of thing by themselves, one way or another, and I realise now that I probably should have asked them at the time how they made that step from nine-to-five into picking their own hours.

I expect that the truth of the matter is that while they pick the hours that they work specifically on other people’s projects, they spend a lot of time networking, researching, blogging and trying things out so as to be “of use”, and that while it might well look like the best way to work there are doubtless some drawbacks as well.

What might be the advantages of this third way, this consultancy life? Well, as long as I had enough work, as long as I made enough money then I suppose I could make different choices about spending time with my family than I can as a nine-to-five operative, at least when I am able to. What I do know about the people that I have met and got to know who choose this path, is that there are times when they have to be away from their families, times when the trade off for freedom is travel and distance and that it is often at short notice. If I stay in the nine-to-five world I stand a chance of seeing my kids every day or almost anyway, but what if I choose this path and while I get the freedom I am looking for, I also have to disappear on short notice for days or weeks at a time?

There is a fourth way, I suppose, which is to look for a permanent, or at least steady, telecommute position with an established company and work nine-to-five (or the appropriate time zone shifted equivalent) for and with people that I never meet in person. I am not against this idea by any stretch of the imagination, in fact I quite like the idea in some ways, but again I wonder how easy such jobs are to come by. I have taken a look at Stack Overflow jobs, specifically the “Work from Anywhere” section, and my biggest concern would be that the good jobs seem to be in the US, and as such would likely have me working a weird offset of the day. Still that might work out quite well; being able to take the kids to school in the mornings, family dinners while transatlantic colleagues were taking lunch? Something to think about.

Clearly there are no easy answers. The obvious step to take when I make my next move is to look for a CTO position, I have all the experience and knowledge that I need at this point and hopefully by the time it comes I will have another provable case study under my belt for a successful, transformative project, so I could make that step without it being an over-reach. I could take everything that I’ve learned so far and one of the two or three ideas that I am hanging on to and start my own business. There is a lot of risk, in some cases a greater or lesser amount depending on the endeavour, but certainly the idea that I am most interested in pursuing would be a lot of risk and an act of stepping a very long way outside my comfort zone. Perhaps not… And so I come back to the idea of consultancy…

I’ve been working on making an Ocean Monument on Minecraft into a habitable base, as entries passim may well have revealed.

Anyway, primary construction is now complete, so here are some pictures…

On Encryption…

GBZXA BGCHS REHAV DDZFP HQFXF QKKCN YBNVH GIUIZ JFQTU AVKUZ GFINX RKLVA CYKHC MLIVP VCLCU HYDQE JOZJL KCASL UHKNH OABKN

If I gave you the key you could decrypt the above message with a deck of playing cards.

Ecrypted communications are not something that governments can defeat by banning WhatsApp and Apple Messages and Threema and Telegram and BBMessenger to name but a few…

If you would like the key, please let me know via a secure channel of your choosing and I will use the same channel to return it to you.

If you would like to be able to exchange emails with me in a genuinely secure fashion, please consider OpenPGP:

OS X
Linux
Windows
iOS
Android

Here is my public GPG key – you will need to send me your public key for me to be able to decrypt any messages you send to me that are encrypted. I also have a Threema and Telegram account, both of which count as “secure enough” seeing as this only a test message, in the end:

—–BEGIN PGP PUBLIC KEY BLOCK—–
Comment: GPGTools – http://gpgtools.org

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I had a moment of creativity…

…and I just wrote this thought down into ello.co, but I know no one will see it there, so I am re-posting it here.


As I looked out over the glassy surface of the calm South China Sea, that was lapping at my feet, I was filled with an utterly profound sense of longing; to be free of the air. All I wanted was to be able to slip under the surface and explore the shallows and the depths without the artifice of technology or fear of pressure. The sea is beautiful and terrible, but we are no longer free to be at one with her, our bodies are not compatible with her depths nor can we breathe the oxygen that we need from liquid so we are air-bound, no matter what we might dream of.

The soft golden glow of the sunset was narrowing to a thin line of fire across the horizon as I turned away from the water and slowly made my way back up the thin strand and across the garden to where my family were crowded around the fire, waiting for flames to die to embers so that we could lay the day’s catch over the heat.

The sounds of conversation and the clinking of beer bottles trickled over the grass from the deck towards me, and the longing slipped away from me to be replaced by the warmth of the love I held for the people I was walking towards; my anchors in the air-bound world, but such wonderful enlivening ties to bind me here.

If wishing made it so…

I need to find a way to make the ideas in this video a reality for some of the awesome people I have worked with and do work with now.

There really can be profit and balance, growth and humanity – there is no need to work “every hour that God sends”, there is just a need to work hard while we are at work, and then not when we are not…

The BBC and Me and We…

Watching from afar as the recently minted 2015 Conservative Goverment (sans Lib-Dem safety valve) starts yet another ideological assault on a beloved institution, I find myself bewildered as to how they think they are ever going to receive popular support for their nefarious game, and yet it would appear they can spin it nonetheless.

Of course the BBC has her detractors, one could hardly claim the first “B” for British if there was not some portion of the population ready to whinge bitterly about the death spiral of moral, intellectual, artistic or political standards that are ruining Aunty. Let us not even dwell upon the thoughtless idiots who complain about the licence fee whilst failing to recognise that in return for less than fifty pence a day they are taking delivery of a unique public service broadcaster that is the envy of the World, when almost nothing else British, apart from luxury housing in London, is envied by anyone, anywhere. More than that, the elderly and the vulnerable in society are given a licence (currently) so that they may at least be informed, educated and entertained as the Tories slowly strangle the life out of them in every other way in the name of the neo-liberal conspiracy.

But hold on, didn’t “Our David” get in on the backs of the Radio Four audience, or at least the largest chunk of them? What’s that David, your base are devotees of the most diverse, innovative and familiar sound of Middle England? Hmmm, I do not entirely believe that they are going to be ok with you taking away Gardeners’ Question Time and Just a Minute. Perhaps the policy machine deep in the blackened heart of Conserative Party Central Office is hooked up to a Sky Dish and is mindlessly forwarding its real master’s agenda? Any comment Mr. Murdoch?

Now I know what you are thinking… You are smiling to yourself and thinking that your correspondent has form, not only as a dreadful Pinko Liberal, but also as a former employee of the BBC herself! Yes, I believe in the BBC and so much so that I worked for less than market rate in my field on three separate occasions to be a part of the organisation that has given us everything from Newsnight to Strictly, Last Night of the Proms to Eastenders and far more besides. In my last tour of duty I ran the engineering team that looked after the websites for The BBC World Service, a finer ambassador for the country of my birth would be hard to name if you ask me, but by working for World Service I got a flavour of the funding gap and it is not something that anyone ought to allow to grow at all, in any direction.

Consider, if you will, a possible future. Ten years from now the BBC is no longer funded by the Licence Fee or the UK Government in any capacity. There is a small income stream from fanatical supporters who buy a subscription to the organisation, a bit like the memberships offered by public sector, not-for-profit radio stations dotted around the USA. Aside from that, in true Tory style, the vast majority of the BBC’s radically reduced budget comes from corporate sponsorship; “The Archers, brought to you by Monsanto, shaping the World through innovation.” or “BBC News at Ten, brought to you by HSBC, The World’s Local Bank”, and while news programming is uninterrupted, entertainment shows are peppered with adverts every twelve to fifteen minutes. BBC Two is a distant memory, Radio Four barely has any original programming, but thank goodness for the Archive, and there are no black, disabled or gay people anywhere to be seen or even heard on the airwaves, lest the advertisers grow restless.

Sound like a legacy that you want to give our country, let alone the World? Do you want to explain to your children or nephews and nieces how there used to be unrivalled factual progammes about the fabric of the Universe on BBC Television, but now there are four different variants of Strictly Come Dancing crossed with The Voice and the worst excesses of Tabloid Television, because that is what Nestlé are hoping for when it comes to reaching the largest number of undiscerning purchasers for their new breakfast cereal, made from real African children.

There are those that say that the measure of a society can be made simply by examining the place that the Arts occupy in its culture and zeitgeist. What does it say about British Society that we are apparently okay with the Government of the day eyeing up the greatest and most respected guardian of the Arts anywhere in the World as a juicy privatisation plum, ripe for the plucking, perfect to sate their misguided, twisted appetite for austerity, as long as its the kind of austerity that hurts lefties and intellectuals and poor people and anyone who likes unbiased news coverage. There are no Tory Culture Vultures who are going to suffer if their party guts the BBC, they will gorge themselves on expensive tickets to the Opera at Covent Garden – now sponsored by Halliburton once the Arts Council has finally been given the old heave-ho with the follow through after punting the BBC into the tall grass – and congratulate themselves that they are supporting the cultural life of the country whilst consigning Radio Three and BBC Four to the fire.

What can we do? A Million marched against the Second Gulf War and not even a dent was made; we barely moved the needle. Please don’t think that there are a Million ready to march for Aunty Beeb, they are all so complacent; “The Beeb’s always been there and it always will be, it’s as British as afternoon tea, cricket and the Changing of the Guard. What are all these bloody adverts? I thought that Countryfile was on the Beeb!”.

We need to voice our displeasure, and keep on chanting over and over the refrain:

“Hands off our Beloved BBC!” (Feel free to add “You Tory Scum”, if you so choose; who am I to prescribe)

every time that the subject comes up. Write to your MP, write to your MP’s wife or husband, write to every party activist of every stripe you can get contact details for, and tell them that the very last British Institution, after the NHS, that should ever be mentioned in the same breath as the word privatisation is the BBC.

Not only that, write to the BBC Trust, the Director General, and anyone you can get contact details for at the BBC voicing your full-throated support for the BBC remaining publicly and adequately funded, impartial, non-commercial and OURS!

People often trot out the plattitude that politicians work for us, which of course they do, but for every whinging git that thinks The News Quiz is somehow evidence that the BBC is a nest of Communist vipers waiting to envenom society at a moment’s notice and that it should be burned to the ground for the common good, there are twenty, thirty, fifty, nay a hundred quiet, unheard voices that adore the BBC in their own personal, special and fabulous way. Whether it is The Goon Show or The Sky at Night, there is a good bet that there is something on the BBC that you love with all your heart that simply would not exist without the Charter, without the Licence Fee and without the Corporation’s unique raison d’être; to Inform, Educate and Entertain(*). Bear that in mind that it is not just something that you love, it is also yours, ours and utterly unique in the entire World.

Please, please, please do not let Cameron and his merry band of axe-men destroy something so utterly wonderful in all of its imperfect striving to be worthy of our love – you will so definitely miss her when she is gone.

Our Man in Makati..?

So, finally, after two and a half weeks of being here – a BLOG POST!

We arrived in the Philippines after a remarkably easy journey… Seriously both Lee-Anne and I were experiencing a considerable amount of anxiety over how the kids would fare with two eight hour flights back to back, but they were fantastic little troopers. There was one flash-point – what shall forever more be known as “The Abu Dhabi Incident” – but to focus on that would be to completely ignore how wonderfully behaved they were compared to our least terrifying nightmares.

Stepping off the plane, we could tell it was hot, but the corridor we walked into was air conditioned. It was leaving the Baggage Reclaim when we realised that it was in fact HOT. By the time I had turned some dollars into Philippines Pesos (forever more to be known as PHP, which will amuse a tiny fraction of this blog’s readership), walked twenty feet to the man running the official airport taxis and arranged our fare and I was praying that the taxi would have air conditioning.

It did, of course, everything is air conditioned here, even the lifts – or perhaps that should be especially the lifts? We found our AirBnB place – taxi drivers here do know their way around, but it’s not the same as “The Knowledge” in London, it’s more like a Private Hire cabbie in Basingstoke, you know? The place is small, but we expected that and had planned and packed accordingly. I can honestly say after two and a half weeks in the place that we love it; we’ve even toyed with staying in it longer, but I pointed out that as the kids get even a few months older we are going to need a little bit more space to enable us to escape, and to allow them to run about (more).

The first day I was hideously over-confident about the jet-lag. I was soon back in my place, having fallen asleep on the couch before 2100h (local), and thus began the horrific process of trying to recover from jet-lag while one’s own children are failing to recover from jet-lag. I tried to take the advice; swim (no really it helps), eat when you need to, stay up later than you think you should but not too late. I tried, I really did, but the day before my first day at work I woke up at 1400h; not “I stayed in bed until 1400h desperately trying to get some more sleep unable to get up”, I WOKE UP at 1400h.

During that re-adjustment period I did a little exploring, found the nearest thing to what I recognised as a supermarket, and as a family we went to farmers’ market on the park a block away from our condo. The rest of the time was spent sleeping, doing prep-work for my new job, playing Minecraft – I have dragged Lee-Anne over to the dark side and got her on my server, Mwahahahahaha – sleeping and watching BBC World News, oh yeah and swimming as much as possible.

Yeah, I know, “cry me a river” – there is a pool outside your patio, dude! Even so, I was very worried that my first day at work would be a season in Hell. So, I tried to go to bed at a reasonable hour – around 2300h – and I got up with plenty of time to have a swim (cold but genuinely worth the effort), and found my way to the office on the first try. Of course I was the first Westerner there, but that’s ok. I’m not suggesting that my Western colleagues are tardy, they most certainly are not, but they arrive at around 0900h and on my first day I was there by 0820h. A lot of the Filipino members of the team arrive at the office between 0630h and 0730h in order to beat the morning traffic in and to leave early to beat the afternoon traffic on their way home, whereas most of the Westerners are living so close to the office that none of us are driving here, so traffic is not an issue (more on driving in Makati and wider Metro Manila in another post).

Day one was a series of meetings and chats with various people and was over before I knew it. I wandered home, happy and tired, via the “supermarket” and then proceeded to collapse into a heap on the sofa – Lee-Anne was not best pleased. Of course, that was not the whole story, I perked up at around 2300h and then could not get back to sleep…

I am mostly back on a sane sleep / wake schedule now, and the kids are almost there too, but that first week was HARD and the pool + coffee, and the support and encouragement of my awesome wife are the only things that got me through it.

Work is, as I expected, a lot of plate-spinning, a lot of cans of worms to be opened and dealt with, decisions made etc. and I am loving it. It feels as though I am exactly where I need to be professionally, and the people I am working with are all pulling in the same direction, which is something I came to take for granted at the BBC, but am now quite sure that I would be unable to handle the absence of such shared purpose in this new environment.

The next couple of weeks are going to be very busy and very stressful – I don’t imagine that I am going to be able to blog about them because of time constraints – but in a month or so I think that I will be fully in control of the technical side of things, and I hope to be able to get us into a good groove in terms of adopting some good practices and improving on our approach to Agile working. There is a great foundation to work with, but we definitely need some fine-tuning and so that’s what I am going to be doing.

So, in the meantime, please be assured that there is more to come and I leave you with this thought;

"There is no greater stroke of genius, nor is there any greater enterprise of evil than to make it possible to have Burger King delivered to your door up until 2100h at night, that is until you realise that McDonalds deliver 24 hours a day here. Stay Classy, Makati!"

I hope that you are all surviving the extreme weather about which BBC World News has been almost gleeful in the telling, and that this despatch from the Orient finds you all in good health and good spirits. We do miss Blighty from time to time, and many of you far more and more often than the place herself, but it would be dishonest to say that we are doing anything but enjoying the new experiences and the new way of life that this adventure has brought thus far.

More to follow.
.
EOT

Going Home…

As you may or may not know, dear reader, I have been experiencing a little turbulence in my career of late. A little over six weeks ago I gave my notice at Vivastreet after a year of highs and lows and a great deal of stress, a decision made when it became clear that I was not likely to be able to achieve the things that I set out to do by remaining there. In many ways it was a very difficult decision, in others it was very easy – is this not always the way – but by the time a day had passed I was quite certain that in terms of career and my personal happiness and health it was the right way to go.

Clearly this decision has led to a job search, and in fact the day after I handed in my notice I spied an interesting staff role at the BBC, which I applied for and promptly forgot about, as the deadline for applications was weeks away. To my genuine delight, about ten days later, I received an invitation to have a telephone interview, which I took and must have done quite well with as this led to a coding test and finally a face to face interview with three members of the senior engineering team on News. Despite the complexity and time cost of the process, which I would say is probably inevitable with an organisation of the BBC’s size, the entire process was challenging and fun, and as I left New Broadcasting House after the interview I was quietly hopeful that I had done and said the right kind of things and that there was a good chance that I would be offered the job.

Well, yesterday afternoon I verbally accepted and today I had written confirmation of the offer, which I have also formally accepted, and so now I am officially going back to the BBC. I have entitled this post “Going Home…” for a very specific reason; in all of my twelve years in software engineering, despite some other really excellent experiences, the only place that I have ever felt truly at home, truly in sync with the culture, the ethos and the goals of the organisation is the BBC. Now it is fair to say that I am a ridiculous fanboi for the BBC anyway, and while I am not unconditionally on their side, I have been known to fight their corner in a rather partisan manner, when the organisation has been criticised by others, long before I ever worked for them.

I can’t easily explain to you how much of a thrill I know it will be to walk into work at New Broadcasting House every day, to feel that I am contributing to the workings of an institution that is dear to my heart and feels, to me at least, to be one of the foundation stones of modern British life. I am not a very patriotic person, one might say I have a quiet love for my country; the kind of honest love that sees her faults and is not afraid to own them, but I do have a strong attachment to much of what I would call Anglicana. Tea, cricket, the Lake District, English Literature, the British Museum, Red buses and of course the BBC (to name but a few of the things that strike a chord with me in particular) – these are all things that matter to me, and they matter because they are the expression of the character of my country.

There is no question that today, now that I know where I am going to be working, I feel a lot less stressed than I did yesterday. Yesterday was filled with uncertainty, so much so that I fluffed a telephone interview with another large organisation that would in many ways have been a great opportunity, but today my mood is not just improved by the security of “I have a job”, my calm and happiness are magnified tenfold by “I (will soon) work at the BBC”.

Right, now to go and hang up the washing…

Syria, and the idea of the Doctrine of Humanitarian Intervention

The World is holding its breath, and for now that seems to be all that we can do.

Western leaders have made much of their outrage at the alleged use of chemical weapons in Damascus last week, I say alleged because no one is prepared to say that it is undoubted, and even then there will be those that deny it, and so as ever truth is in the mind of the beholder. Meanwhile, China and Russia have made their voices heard, loudly warning against any form of military intervention and more than suggesting that any contravention of their veto will at least be met by wholehearted and material support of the Assad regime in the face of such intervention, if not their actual entry into the theatre of war.

For decades there have been theoretical discussions about the Levantine Crescent’s potential to become the crucible for the Third World War, and yet recent history has seemed to allay those fears. Nonetheless, the sabre rattling on both sides and the high-pitched keening of the World’s media do seem to suggest that one ought to consider at least the possibility that Syria may be the straw that will break the camel’s back.

The Western position is easy to swallow and yet hard to digest. Moral outrage at the use of chemical weapons seems to be providing the pretext for what our inglorious leaders are going to sell to us as justification for military intervention along purely humanitarian lines, but is there truly a basis for belief in this idea, the Unicorn of International Politics, the Doctrine of Humanitarian Intervention?

If one were to define this elusive concept, I imagine that the definition would read something like this:

“It is our belief, as the United Nations, that there is justification for military intervention in the affairs of sovereign states, when the plight of the innocent civilians is threatened beyond doubt, all other avenues of redress have been attempted and exhausted without success and the sole reward for intervention would be the protection from harm of the innocent.”

It is pretty difficult to argue with this on a moral basis – all of us are likely to think that it is acceptable to employ violence to prevent more harm once reason and bargaining have failed – so why am I questioning the sales pitch? Put simply, there is greater vested interest in choosing to intervene than simple moral principle.

  1. First and foremost the UN cannot allow contravention of the worldwide ban on the use of chemical and biological weapons to pass unpunished – it would confirm its status as a paper tiger, once and for all.
  2. The growing tide of concern amongst Western intelligence communities and the wider public consciousness that radical organisations, such as Al Quaeda, are fighting cheek by jowl with the Syrian rebels means that the endgame of the rebellion managing to win would logically mean the realisation of a large risk that radicals may be in a position to access chemical weapons stock-piled by the Assad regime, along with any other materiel that might pose an equally terrifying set of possibilities.
  3. Syria continues to represent a crucial strategic choke-point in the Levant, and this abuse of chemical weapons represents the perfect pretext upon which to mount an intervention designed to ensure that the West will, in all likelihood, control the outcome of the civil war and be in a position, despite the countless lessons of history, to engineer Syria’s immediate future politically, in line with its own political and foreign policy agenda.

There is no way in which the Western leaders who are currently quivering with outrage in public are not considering these angles, and perhaps other more subtle ones that have not as yet occurred to me, but the above alone constitutes a basis for rejecting that intervention in Syria could truly fall under only the umbrella of a Doctrine of Humanitarian Intervention.

So, what is left?

Well for one thing, even with the fact that the Humanitarian and / or Moral imperatives may be coloured by self-interest, it is hard to deny that there are strong reasons for getting involved, and that leads to wider and more dangerous questions.

A good deal of media commentary seems to be espousing the likelihood of a series of “stand-off” attacks designed to provide a proportional yet meaningful response to last weeks alleged chemical attack, but what do tomahawk and smart-bomb attacks on key military installations really amount to? Are they not just “the price of doing business”? Do they not serve a more complex agenda for Assad if what he hopes to gain by crossing Obama’s red line is to force Russia and China to step into the ring on his side, thereby giving him the muscle he needs to defeat the rebels quickly before the Western powers get boots on the ground? More than that, if you are experiencing moral outrage and a desire to punish, why would anyone stop at just a slap in the face? If the Assad regime is responsible and the West is truly outraged, then surely the idea of giving Assad a spanking and then patting one another on the back at a job well done is ludicrous?

For the sake of form I would like to point out that I am not in favour of any intervention, but only because I see intervention in Syria as the road to unfettered escalation and that risk is not balanced by the rewards, even the unspoken self-serving rewards that go far beyond a claiming of the high moral ground.

What I would say is that if the West is to intervene then it is high time we acknowledged the fact that this is serious job of “wet work” and the only intervention that is likely to serve both pubic satisfaction and achieve the strategic wins to go along with the moral victory, hollow though it may be, is to go “all in”. Not only should the Western powers deploy ground forces to the area, they should do so in staggering scale. Those ground troops should have the broadest definition of the rules of engagement, that reads along the lines of “anyone holding a weapon that is not a part of the Allied force is an enemy combatant and may be fired upon unless they offer an unconditional surrender”, and they should be supported by overwhelming air power, continued tactical attacks and an unswerving rejection of the notion that there will be an end in sight. If we are going to attempt to intervene militarily we should, from the get go, make sure that we win, and that we are clear in our acceptance of loss of life as an inevitability for our forces, other military powers in the theatre of war and the innocent. Anything less is a lie. Anything less is waste of time and effort and money and blood. If we are so sure that we know better than another sovereign state, then there is no other option than to play to win.

Will the public, in the West or anywhere else for that matter, have the stomach for an honest to goodness war? If the warnings coming from the East turn into action will Obama, Cameron and Hollande relish the judgement of history as they become the men who began the Third World War? Will our children’s children go on guided tours of the glass forests in the Levant when all of that sand has been turned to glass by what will no doubt be spun as an unfortunate slip in the checks and balances on the command and control of Russian nuclear weapons, or perhaps Allied ones, or Chinese ones, or Israeli ones?

I realise that it is a worst case scenario, but how can we even be considering a course of action that will set into motion the kind of international brinksmanship the like of which we have not seen for seventy years?

Do not misunderstand me, I weep for the Syrian people – the last two years have been a long season in Hell for all of them, combatant and civilian alike – but when has the lesson of history taught us that military intervention is anything other than the rockier of roads? Could we not bring our massive economic and logistical might to bear to flood Syria with medical aid, doctors and core humanitarian supplies? Could we not all chip in to pay Turkey back for not only the half a million refugees that they have already given shelter to, but to offer them recompense for any number of others that wish to escape? Is there not mileage in continuing to allow for the possibility that like wild fires, sometimes civil war is a tragic necessity, and that we would be better served by building a fire break than pouring petrol on the situation?

There will be time enough to bring Assad and his generals, or the leaders of the rebellion come to that, before the proper authorities (in the Hague no doubt) to answer for their crimes against humanity, if they don’t kill each other first. When the dust settles there will be plenty of opportunity for the International community to exert its influence over the new incumbent to surrender the remaining chemical weapons for confiscation and destruction, assuming of course that they are not used up in the interval.

Whatever happens, my fondest hope is that the West might stop and count to ten and take a breath, and if then there is still an unshakeable desire to wage war I do not want to hear about moral imperatives or “just war”. I want our leaders to be honest about the calculations that will have brought us to that pass and the breadth and depth of all the reasons for deciding to kill a lot of people and then, only then turn their faces to the cameras and speak the truth about the choices that have been made.

I would not want to be David Cameron, François Hollande or worse still Barack Obama* this week – they are prisoners of the moment, no matter how much they might tell themselves that they are the leaders of the (free) World, and to be so caught between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea must feel like little more than fate’s cruel joke. Whatever they decide, assuming we are not all speaking Chinese in three to five years’ time, history will be the only reliable indication of their legacy.

(*I say “worse still” on the basis that it has been my observation that as a nation, the US has tended to be more warlike in recent years than France or the UK, but that may be a slanted perception, and so I expect that he is feeling even greater pressure to throw down with Assad than the others.)

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