These days I try to limit my TV viewing to sport. Every other genre, from drama to game-show to (especially) news, has lost its lustre. Even sport is starting to get on my nerves. Every week there is some cause or other that takes over the pre-game analysis and (intentionally?) plunges the viewer into a well of despair over a war, or a disease, or a tragedy, or a cause, or an ideology. What’s even more annoying is that often the well of despair is introduced at the last moment before the game kicks off. I like to see the first bounce of the ball, but I am getting my mind around losing that pleasure too. When I remember, I use the last few minutes of the pre-game to make a cuppa, or visit the bathroom, and make sure I return only when the game is underway. They can’t protest or virtue-signal during the game … I hope. The best they can do at the moment is to vandalise the uniforms they wear with the logo of the month. If they ever figure out how to take a knee during the game then I can sell my TV.

Nevertheless, June and July offer a tantalising smorgasbord of dishes to indulge in. So I turn on the cricket, England v Australia ‘Ashes’ series. No taking the knee this time, as the Australian team did when they played against the West Indies. So far so good. Relaxing into my sofa, I am all set for a couple of hours viewing before bed. The time zones are good, this time.

What I didn’t count on was the advertisements in the breaks between play. The cricket is being broadcast exclusively on a free-to-air channel, which means they have ads after every 6th ball, unlike streaming services which typically don’t have ads during play. I don’t mind ads per se, but I don’t like getting propagandised and bullied in my own living room. Call me old-fashioned.

The ad in question is a government agency ad depicting a day in the life of a family man caught driving over the alcohol limit. The voice-over sneers at him as he battles through the day having to blow into an ignition interlock device to start the car and periodically having to pull over to blow into it again. The ad gleefully mocks his harried, depressed demeanour, the misery his punishment brings him, and the contempt he elicits from his wife and family. He’s a loser. The threat couldn’t be more explicit: any excess over the limit and we will turn your life into a nightmare. Because we can. And we’ll do not just in spite of the misery it will cause you, and your family, but because of the misery it will cause you. The naked threat is not even offset by the fig-leaf of the social contract ‘benefit’ that the interlocks allegedly provide, namely a lower road toll. The ad does not appeal to our better nature, by saying that driving while intoxicated is dangerous and you might kill yourself or someone else.

I suppose it has always been this way. Despite veneers of assurances to the contrary, underneath, the ‘citizenry’ has always been threatened and bullied by the ruling powers. How could it be different, after all? Power is a thing, and power will always invite a struggle to obtain it, and especially to retain it.

The big threats are recognisable enough, but to a degree they are accepted as part of the social contract between citizens and governments. Income tax is one that comes to mind: pay the tax, or we’ll put you in jail. The highway code, likewise: obey the rules or we’ll take your license. Mostly, these threats are unspoken, presented with more positive framing. Everybody should pay tax to provide things we all benefit from, and to support the poor. Everyone should drive according to the rules, to make safe, orderly travel possible.

In the 80s, the AIDS campaign in Australia featured confronting images of the Grim Reaper scything his way indiscriminately through men women, and children. The voice-over indulged in hyperbolic claims that the number of Australians dead would be higher than the lives lost in the second world war, and the haunting images scared the pants off teenagers across the country. It was technically a strong encouragement, but about as close to an explicit threat as you can get: use a condom, or else!

When it comes to government and ethical boundaries, the line between a strong encouragement and an overt threat has long since been erased. We’ve had 3 years of overt threats, and the threats were not empty ones. Premiers across the country harassed us daily, for months and years, with sneers and insults. Wear a mask or you will be arrested. Get an injection or you won’t be allowed to get a haircut. Stay in your homes, don’t travel more than 5 km, stay inside after dark, or you will be arrested. Show me your coffee cup. They were followed up with literal physical force: protesters shot in back running away, elderly women pepper sprayed and beaten, a person slammed head first into the tiled concourse of Flinders Street Station.

Another ad is, unbelievably, still airing too. After all the mounting evidence to the contrary, the ‘booster’ shot is alive and well, unlike many of its recipients.

We’ve meekly accepted the role of bullied, timid cowards, and the abuse continues today. Some have responded by joining the bullies. How did we get here? Why do we tolerate this contempt being beamed into our living rooms, and played out in our public spaces? And what can we do about it?

I reject it all. I reject the lies we were told, and I reject the lies we are still told. I reject the proposition that the government should humiliate people. Or trick them into doing something they don’t want to do.

As for the cricket, perhaps it’s time to dust off the radio.

This article was first published on Richard’s blog.