A comment below the Spiked article:
When I was twenty, and living in London, I was colourblind; so colourblind, infact, that, I didn’t even know I was colourblind. Because I was raised to by (truly) liberal parents, I was inculcated with the idea that all people were united by common threads of humanity, and that despite a range of myriad differences, real or imagined, we all shared too much to justify any irrational hostility.
I was also raised to believe in the power of good manners – for everyone. I still believe in both of these things, but after a quarter-century of no-platforming, identity politics, critical race theory, imposed guilt, the fetishisation of diversity and seemingly endless discussions about the “n word”, all I hear in my head now when I look at a black person’s face is a voice screaming “nigger” at the top of its lungs.
I’m gay, and I would hazard a guess that people who wouldn’t have even bothered to notice how tolerant they were of me a generation ago now only feel a prickling sense of defensive resentment every time they have to deal with me, all because of this suffocating obsession with difference, and this need to promote a sense of personal injury and entitlement at the expense of looking to explore shared experience.
Everything’s gone wrong; everything is having the opposite effect.