I could start with some sub-Confucian nonsense about how we’re all living in a time of change. I could, but I would be typing with a vision of my wonderfully straight-talking maternal grandmother about to clip me round the ear for writing cobblers while reminding me in no uncertain terms that everybody always has. Dot was a woman for whom bushes were to be grown or pruned, not beaten around. She was also a woman who didn’t shy from a challenge: her opinions – and actions – on pensioners’ rights and the bra-burning end of feminism have already received an honorary mention here.
And she had a penchant for action: while the polite option in offering resistance to Oswald Moseley might have been to write to The Telegraph, her preference was to be one of those repurposing the contents of a chamberpot in The Battle of Cable Street. Sometimes actions really do speak louder than words, and a chamberpot delivers more than a quiet word in someone’s ear. For Dot, a bête noire was a creature that had not yet received enough of a talking to or a sufficiently effective handbagging, and one of her favourite targets was ‘conventional wisdom’.
Were she still with us, I get the feeling she’d have liked the following definition of the subject, originally posted at Mark’s Daily Apple:
In most cases, CW is a lumbering beast: slow to move, but difficult to alter course once its big bullish head is set on moving in a certain direction. It’s the pigheaded, stubborn curmudgeon yelling at those darn kids to get off his lawn. It’s loud, pervasive, and impossible to ignore – and avoid. Oftentimes, entire careers are staked on maintaining its veracity. When that veracity is challenged, either by critics or by experiment, the challenger is often silenced.”


For an intelligent species, we’re not always terribly bright at reflecting accurately on what is shaping our lives. Considering its popularity as a childhood game, you’d think we’d be better at playing Consequences by now, wouldn’t you?