The Moral State We’re In - Julia Neuberger

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for it? Yet trust is essential if we are to value our services, and risk aversion will make for bad services, where no one will do what seems natural and kind in case they get accused of behaving improperly or riskily. We look at ourselves and make our demands. But we fail to look out at others. Our sphere of endeavour is both vast–we see the world and beyond as never before–and tiny, as we sit glued to our television screens and fail to go out of our front doors.

      Ultimately, this is a book about who belongs to our society and how we regard them. It is about insiders and outsiders, the trusted and the distrusted. If we recognize mutual obligations, how far does that mutuality extend? Who is ‘us’, and to whom can we legitimately say we have no obligation? If we only look to ourselves, we narrow our field of vision and in the end become automata: selfish, self-obsessed, habitually shirking our responsibilities. If we only take the longest view, we somehow forgive ourselves for not noticing what is under our feet or in the next street. But both the longest and the nearest gaze negate the need for trust. It is in the middle distance–amongst our neighbours, our police, our fellow citizens, our politicians–that trust can be found and where debate about making the world a better place can effectively take place. Escaping inside will simply negate our experience of friends and colleagues. Escaping to the ends of the earth will bring excitement but no permanent gain. The issues we need to grapple with are in the here and now, in our cities, towns, and families. Unless we rethink our social obligations and reassess the issue of trust, we will become even more cynical, even more atomistic, even more individualistic–and there will then really be no such thing as society.

      If I am not for myself, who will be for me? And if I am only for myself, what am I? And if not now, when?

      (Mishnah, Ethics of the Fathers, 1: 14)

       ONE THE ELDERLY

      Once upon a time there was an old donkey who had worked for the same owner for many years from being a very young and energetic donkey. One day he saw his master talking to the local butcher and that he was eyeing him up and down. He thought he knew what that meant–that they were going to make him into cat’s meat. He wasn’t having any of that. So that very night he kicked the stable door down and escaped.

      Whilst recovering from his exertion in a field full of thistles, which he munched his way through, he thought what to do. He would become a musician in the famous city of Bremen, not too far away. That decided, next morning, with a belly full of the best thistles that ever grew in a cruel farmer’s field, he set out down the Bremen road.

      He had not gone very far when he met an old dog lying panting in the road. He asked him what was wrong, for the dog was distressed, with obviously sore paws. The dog replied that he was an elderly dog who had served his master well for eleven years, but, as he got older and more rheumatic, he could not chase and round up the deer as once he had. And so his master was going to have him put down. They both agreed that this was appalling, and then the donkey offered the dog the chance to join him and become a town musician in Bremen along with him.

      So they went on together. Soon they tripped over an elderly cat lying in the road with sore paws, her claws split. She was panting. They asked her to tell them her story. She explained she had been a fine fit young cat, a great mouser, and very popular and much loved by her mistress. But now that she was old and tired, and liked to sit and dream by the fire, her mistress thought she was useless and not worth feeding. So she threatened to drown her. The cat heard this and ran away from the house where she had once been so happy. Then she had stopped, thinking that there was no easy way for her to survive. The donkey and the dog were very sympathetic. They said the same thing had happened to them. So they asked her if she would like to join them on the way to Bremen, since with her fine singing voice she could easily become a town musician.

      And so they carried on together. As it was nearing nightfall, they saw a cock hopping towards them, making the most terrible noise. They asked the cock what was the matter. He replied that he was getting old and he had heard his master say that he was not much use any more for waking up the farmyard and that a younger cock was needed for the task, as well as for impregnating the hens to ensure they laid enough to make a living for the farmer’s wife. But the worst thing had been hearing his master threaten to cook him up for the soup for Easter Sunday!

      The donkey, the dog, and the cat were all very sympathetic. They invited the cock to join them in their journey to Bremen, and then to become a town musician with them. And so he cheered up, and went with them. And they journeyed on till nightfall, when they stopped in a forest and went to sleep, though it was cold and they were very hungry.

      But then they saw a light a long way off. The cat cheered up. It must be a house and she could sit warm and snug by the hearth and think her old cat’s thoughts. They decided to go towards the light. When they got there they found a pretty cottage, but it was full of robbers eating a huge meal around the table. They looked at each other. Then the dog jumped on the donkey’s back, the cat on the dog and the cock on the cat, and they looked into the window and made the most terrible noise. The robbers were terrified and ran away into the forest. The animals sat down round the table, had a great meal, and then went to sleep in a cosy cottage that seemed just right for them.

      But the robbers began to think they had been silly to run away. They thought it could only have been a group of animals who had found them. So they moved nearer. The chief robber told the younger ones to go into the cottage. All the animals were asleep, and he thought it was safe to attack the sleepers, kill them and take back the cottage–to which, of course, he felt entitled.

      But the cat could hear in her sleep, old though she was, and she woke up, and as the robber passed she scratched him viciously with her claws. As he ran from what he thought was a knife, the dog bit into his leg and would not let him go. He wrenched himself away and, as he ran, the donkey lashed out at him with a hoof, and then, for good measure, as he began to get up some speed, the cock swooped down and pecked at his face and ears. He was terrified; the people in the cottage were all armed. The robbers would have to give up and go far far away.

      In the week before Christmas 2003, a case hit the headlines in all the papers entitled variously: ‘Betrayed’, or’ Frozen to death’, or, in The Guardian, ‘Cold and Old’. An elderly husband and wife, who had lived in the same house in London for 63 years, had died at the ages of 89 (of emphysema and hypothermia) and 86 (of a heart attack) respectively. No real surprises here, except their gas supply had been cut off for non-payment of bills. Yet they were not poor. There was £1,400 in cash in their home and a further £19,000 in a building society account.

      They were finding it harder and harder to cope, a nightmare that overtakes many older people and is feared by even more. They may not have Alzheimer’s disease, but at the end of their lives they often find it hard

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