A State of Fear: How the UK government weaponised fear during the Covid-19 pandemic - Laura Dodsworth (the first e reader .txt) 📗

of Boxer, the strong farm horse, faithful and fêted. But after being worked to the bone, would the NHS also be sent to the knacker’s yard, like poor Boxer? It was blindingly obvious that lockdown would devastate the economy, and I wondered about the NHS’s future in a poorer nation. There is no health without wealth. My skin prickled with warning.

Clap for Carers pulled people together so quickly and definitively, yet it made me uncomfortable. It spectacularly embodied the classic propaganda attributes of ‘euphoria’ and ‘flag-waving’. My creative nature leads me to confront the points of tension. I’ve always been fascinated by our inner workings, the taboo, the stuff we push to the back of the darkest closet. So, as I said in Chapter 6, ‘The SPI-B advisors’, I decided to approach Annemarie Plas, the founder of the UK’s Clap for Carers, for an interview and to take her portrait. I wanted to understand the person behind this positive campaign, how she made it happen and, of course, make an interesting article out of it.

On social media I had come across rumours that the campaign was secretly powered by the government. I asked Plas about this and she denied the rumours were true. I liked her a lot and believe she had nothing but good intentions when she started Clap for Carers. Her charming flat was the lair of a boho chic metropolitan yoga-practising upwardly-mobile professional, not a sleeper agent. Her back story was very interesting. With no humility, I have to tell you I got a great story out of her, alongside some beautiful portraits. Yet I felt unable to pitch the piece, because she let slip she had a friend who worked at Number 10. Considering the runaway success of Clap for Carers, this seemed too much of a coincidence. My initial story idea was derailed.

The very first Clap for Carers was covered in the national media and supported by high-profile figures including the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, the prime minister and the Beckhams. How many truly grassroots campaigns have the support of royalty, the PM and major celebrities in the first few days? It’s understandable that the media would support a positive campaign in dark times, but this was an astonishingly fast and resounding public relations success. Friends with someone at Number 10, you say?

I checked in with Annemarie again, to ask her directly if she had knowingly worked in concert with the government. She told me, ‘my friend was so busy with her job at Number 10 that she did not have the time to even think of Clap for Carers. It was the first days of lockdown. But yes, it is amazing how the world shared it so quickly, given that I made an image on Friday night (with a spelling mistake and no permission to use the NHS logo) and it was picked up by the Beckhams and royalty within the span of 24 hours.’ Did her friend whisper in the right person’s ear? Annemarie seemed vague. I asked outright if she knew whether Number 10 had at least sprinkled PR magic behind the scenes. She said she had no idea. I didn’t think she would, to be honest. It’s not how it works.

Clap for Carers ran for 10 weeks. There was a muted attempt to revive it in early January. Annemarie Plas received a deluge of negative responses on social media and distanced herself from the campaign. ITV News managed to find a few lone people clapping on their middle-class doorsteps on a drizzly January evening. Then it fizzled out.

Number 10 tried to revive the clap once more, in honour of the passing of Captain Tom, the 100-year-old veteran who had raised money for NHS charities in 2020 by famously doing laps of his garden, aided by a walking frame. As much as Captain Tom deserved admiration and honour, the idea of being told to step outside and clap by Boris Johnson felt forced and exploitative to many. When did the state start telling people how to grieve and that they should mark respect for a stranger? A state funeral was even suggested. Clap for Carers had evoked a propagandist feeling of deification of the NHS. Clapping for one individual took it a step further. Throughout history, leaders have exploited the propaganda tool of ‘apotheosis’ – elevating someone to divine levels. We weren’t told to bow down and worship, we were told to stand outside and clap, but the exhortation and effect is similar. Boris Johnson was creating a cult of personality by proxy.

I checked in with my very well-connected anonymous scientist who did nothing to smooth my rising hackles. They told me that in their opinion the clap had felt ‘fast, slick, ready to go. This isn’t how disasters happen. Authentic responses are messy. I’d say this was engineered. If it was a genuine idea then the government engineered it by amplifying the media and celebs involved.’ These suspicions had been shared by one of the anonymous SPI-B advisors I talked to.

The scientist suggested I put some FOIs (Freedom of Information requests) into various government departments. The first response I received to an FOI said my request would take longer than 3.5 days, the maximum limit. This is a common basis for refusal. Fair enough. I streamlined my request. The second response said there was no communication to share with me as they assumed I only wanted ‘Treat Official and Ministerial Correspondence’. No, no, I wanted all communication, so asked for an internal review of that decision, which was upheld. It is surprising that there is no communication between Annemarie Plas and Number 10 or the Cabinet Office, not least because she was invited to a party at Number 10 for the NHS. At the time of going to print my ongoing FOIs are lost in the back and forth of civil service goop. A civil servant contact who is in and out of Number 10 tells me it looks like