Category Archives: Chinese virus

Our élites man the rudder of state like drunken sailors

In Paris, writes Dalrymple,

the population was at first informed that wearing masks was not necessary because doing so served no useful purpose.

It turned out that this advice was given

not because it was believed to be true but because there were not enough masks. Now the wearing of masks is compulsory on public transport.

Dalrymple remarks:

Children are acutely aware of injustice; adolescents and young adults, susceptible already to rebellion, are acutely aware of the hypocrisies and contradictions of authority. Why, then, should they obey those who have lied to them and to everyone else?

What is it, this ‘coronavirus’ they keep talking about?

Le coronavirus c’est quoi?

So asked a young Frenchman, who has lived for the past three years in Australia, during a chat on the phone with Dalrymple’s wife in March. There was, writes Dalrymple,

a delightful freshness to the question. Talk about the lucky country, I thought to myself: or talk about a lucky young man, not to have heard of coronavirus.

O lucky man!

It had, he says,

a heroic quality — or indicated a sure sense of navigation through the world without taking any notice of the dispiriting flux of news and daily events. You need finely-tuned antennæ to be able to avoid the temporary obsessions of the news media, so ubiquitous are they, and an ability to slide away mentally.

Ce pays chanceux

Kung Fu flu kick-starts a thousand PhD theses

Bonking boffin: the discredited and disgraced epidemiologist Neil Ferguson of Imperial College, London. He touted his alleged expertise on the Wuhan flu but his real interest lay in the legover arena

The theses about the epidemic will settle nothing once and for all, Dalrymple observes. There will always be a need for further research. Science, he points out,

is not a body of doctrine, an orthodoxy from which dissent is heresy. Its truths are multiform, contradictory, and provisional.

If politicians merely followed the science,

they would zigzag or careen like a drunken sailor; they would be at the mercy of the last qualified person to whom they spoke.


despised as they are (they are lower in public esteem even than journalists), are expected to deliver us from death, and if death supervenes it is they who are to blame. We hate them, but we run to them.

It is hard to feel sorry for politicians, says Dalrymple, for

they have chosen their career and (especially in modern conditions) have generally pursued power to the exclusion of all other possible goals, which is not admirable. As often as not, they have not much cultural or psychological hinterland, for they have no time or energy for it, which is why they are mostly not very interesting people. The trouble is that they are important (though perhaps not as important as they think they are), and for the rest of us to have to think about people who are important but not interesting is a kind of torture.

He notes that the problem for politicians in the time of the Chinese virus is that

they are faced with a population of experts. In only a few weeks, millions have become epidemiologists of the first rank, even those who in December would have been hard put to define what epidemiology was — if they had heard of it.

Bruce Lee

Chinese flu and the inveterate statism of the French

How much government do they want? Nothing less than total

Picking up the Paris newspaper the Monde, Dalrymple comes across an article titled Effondrement, décroissance, relocalisation: comment la gauche pense l’après-coronavirus. There are, Dalrymple says,

no prizes for guessing

how the Left thinks of the post-coronavirus. An economist quoted in the article says:

One has seen, as in every crisis, the retreat of governments.

Dalrymple notes that the economist

omits to mention that public expenditure accounts for 56% of France’s GDP, and that one now needs a laissez-passer to leave one’s house or one will be fined by a policeman.

The vice of outsourcing everything to China

Dalrymple notes that Wuhan flu and its consequences have been rather revealing about the West’s condition. On the matter of supply chains and interdependence,

the economy, as we have constructed it, hangs by a thread.

Western folly

The speed with which so much unravelled came as a surprise —

untune that string, And, hark, what discord follows!*

If we had stopped to think,

we might have realised how unwise it was to outsource production of almost everything to distant and not necessarily benevolently-disposed foreign powers.

Ponzi scheme

Yet, says Dalrymple,

our habits — spending more than we earned for decades — required it. To maintain the illusion of solvency, money had to be created and interest rates kept low. But to avoid the appearance of inflation, prices (except for property and financial assets) had to be kept low. The only way was to outsource manufacturing to low-cost economies, and voilà, with the able assistance of the coronavirus, the economic situation that we are in.

Will we ever learn?

We discover when shortages arise that

most of the things of which we go short are not necessary to our happiness; materialism, that the good life is ever greater consumption of material goods, whether refined food or sophisticated electronics, is false, and we have run after false gods.


as soon as normal service is restored in the form of endless supply and huge choice of material goods, we revert to our materialism.

We were probably sincere in declaring that consumption of material goods was not all-important or necessary to happiness. It was just that

the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.

*Troilus and Cressida act I, sc. 3
†Matthew 26:41

Proclamation of victory over Chinese flu

Dalrymple writes that he suspects that victory over the Wuhan virus

will be proclaimed sooner than we have been led to believe.

This is so that

politicians may reconcile the need to protect the public health with that to restart the economy.

Non-working girls and the Wuhan virus

Impact of China flu on the markets of flesh

Dalrymple explains that no sector has been worse hit by Chinese flu fallout than French harlotry. The effect of social distancing on prices for the strumpets’ favours has been striking.

Elasticity of demand for prostitutes’ services in a fornication market is great or small according as the amount of coitus demanded increases much or little for a given fall in sex-price, and diminishes much or little for a given rise in sex-price. In Paris today, says Dalrymple,

supply outstripping demand, such few clients are now to be found that they are in a position to negotiate downwards the prices of the services they desire.

He observes that since the filles de joie work entirely in the informal sector,

they have also been left without coverage by social security.

Anaïs de Lenclos, porte-parole of STRASS (the Syndicat du travail sexuel), has demanded that the government do more to help the cocottes. Dalrymple remarks:

It is impossible for me to pass judgment as to whether [the tarts] could, and therefore ought to, have put something by for a rainy day.

However, he warns that

those depending on the government to guarantee them a living when all else fails—and that means many millions of people—are not in a strong position to object or complain when they are subject to government interference.

In other words, if the French bawds are to receive special assistance, why should they not be taxed? He asks if prostitution,

being merely one kind of work among others, could rightfully be forced upon unemployed women in receipt of social security, who had not the right to turn down available work in supermarkets, for example. Surely, training could easily be given and certificates handed out. At least at elementary levels, no very prolonged apprenticeship could be required.


When infectious disease doctors are more famous than footballers, you know an epidemic is serious

Professors of medicine, writes Dalrymple,

don’t usually look as if they were the drummer of a 1960s rock band just emerged from drug rehabilitation for the 17th time. That is how Didier Raoult, elevated to the rank of the most famous infectious disease doctor, looks. If you type Didier in your search engine, up comes Raoult, before even the soccer player, Drogba.


has a jaundiced view of mathematical modelling of epidemics, because they have so often in the past been so wildly, and in retrospect so ridiculously, wrong and exaggerated.

He has consistently pleaded during the Chinese flu for a sense of proportion.

At least in terms of mortality, if not in those of clinical horrors, it is by no means unusual (he says): there have been many worse epidemics. It takes bravery to say this publicly now, when no one yet knows where or how the epidemic will end.

Cult founder

Raoult’s view is that the approach to the Wuhan virus

has been wrong. There should have been mass testing and treatment with his drug régime. If that had been done from the start, we should not have been facing an economic and social apocalypse.

While he claims excellent results for his treatment,

most of his peers (not that he recognises any as such) do not believe that he has established his case. His publications on the subject are poor methodologically, and in this context method is all.


Raoult would reply, says Dalrymple,

that his detractors are conventional, plodding, stick-in-the-mud, apparatchik types. His view of the world is that it is full of mediocrities opposing strokes of genius. He is good at ad hominem attacks. He detests the Parisian domination of everything, having pursued his whole career in Marseilles. But the fact that his provincial colleagues do not agree with him somewhat undermines the simple story of the provincial David versus the Parisian Goliath.

Magic potion

Dalrymple says that when he sees pictures of people lining up on the steps of Raoult’s hospital to be first tested and then treated by his method if positive for the China virus, he cannot help but think that the professor has become

a religious leader. His treatment method will survive any demonstration that it doesn’t work. When prophecies fail, they are not abandoned, they are projected once more into the future. If I were seriously ill and likely to die, I would probably want to try Raoult’s régime, faute de mieux.