Are there any sociologists among David Cameron’s advisers in 10 Downing Street? The answers appears to be No. Even a GSCE-level sociology student would have advised the prime minister against setting himself up as the man who will now go out and put Britain on the moral straight and narrow.

The concept of a moral collapse or moral panic has long been a staple of sociologists. Brunel University devoted a whole conference to the theme last December. Sessions were devoted to ‘Crime and Deviance; Immigration and Security; Economic Crisis and Political Scandal’ which seems to have covered pretty much the field of all the chatterboxes from Ken Livingstone to IDS plus every single commentator in the last fortnight.

Forty years ago, Stanley Cohen, one of the doyens of British sociology defined moral panic as what happens when a ‘condition, episode, person or group of persons emerges to become defined as a threat to societal values and interests.’ Today it is those who participated in the three days when the state lost control of the streets as Britain’s leaders were off on holiday. It was race rioters in the 1950s, mods and rockers in the 1960s, muggers in the 1970s, miners in the 1980s, paedophiles in the 1990s, and extremist Islamists after 2001.

At each stage Conservatives have sought to raise fears about society. Sir Keith Joseph, the ideological patron saint of Thatcher’s children like David Cameron and his cabinet blamed the moral breakdown of the 1970s on the fact that too many youngster had been allowed to go to university. In 1974 he argued : ‘When young people are taken away from their home milieu, in late adolescence, crowded together in age groups, with diminished parental, and indeed, adult influence, and without the social disciplines which the need to earn a living impose, is it surprising that their late-adolescent rebelliousness should feed on itself, and seek ideological rationalisations? Leftwing ideology is so convenient for this purpose; it requires little knowledge and less analytical thought, just a compendium of all-purpose phraseology .’

So far, Cameron has not blamed the left for the riots though the Melanie Phillips school of columnists who control 80 per cent of available commentary space did. But Cameron will seek quietly, insidiously to blame the left and Labour – just wait for the Conservative party conference.

Poor Tony Blair who presided over the most authoritarian, crime-cutting, police number-increasing governments in recent British history is right to protest that part of the real problem is an irreducible core of poor, broken families. But as we can see in the court appearances, the bourgeoisie is well represented and the courts are beginning to find that the massive police round-ups may not have caught as many hard criminals as originally thought. Predictably the magistrates of Manchester, heirs to the men who ordered the Yeomanry into action at Peterloo in 1819 – another era of moral collapse in the eyes of the Conservative ministers so cruelly treated in Shelley’s ‘The Mask of Anarchy’ – felt they had to get tough. Wiser judges are deciding that rule of law and proportionality still exists.

As Angela McRobbie wrote nearly 20 years ago moral panic is about ‘instilling fear in people and, in so doing, encouraging  them to  turn away from complexity and the visible social problems of everyday life and either to retreat into a ‘fortress mentality’ – a feeling of helplessness, political powerlessness – or to adopt a gung-ho, ‘something must be done about it’ attitude.’

Cameron, who has little idea of how to lead the nation through an impossibly tricky era of Euro-Atlantic economic and political meltdown, has reached out for the language of moral collapse hoping it will given him a political boost. He does not need to be insincere because the whole structure of the democratic state depends on agreement not to go over given lines of behaviour. As he and the commentariat get out their high-pressure rhetorical hoses and blast bankers, politicians, the press, the police, coked-up footballers and popstars, (why not paedophile priests or the producers of Celebrity Big Brother?  – the list can be as long as you like) they sound more and more shrill. There are probably similar statements from politicians about mods and rockers, or the Brixton and Toxteth riots, or, as Tony Blair rightly pointed out, the cruel murders of children or Dunblane-style shootings.

But is it the job of a political leader to try and remoralise the nation? And is Cameron the prime minister to do it? Alan Massie, a marvellous novelist, whose feline capture of history and its conversion into great novels, writes in the current Spectator that fascism starts with demands for troops to be out on the streets, condign punishments and outrageous statements by people. He cited some fatuous demands from a loudmouth Tory MEP for the army to open fire on kids nicking a Krispy Kreme from a brokenwindowed Tesco Express.

Massie adds that one of the pre-conditions for fascism is to spread the belief that the existing institutions – press, parliamentarians and other anchors of society like the police and financial institutions are corroded and corrupt beyond repair. Cameron and the unctuous Clegg seem to enjoy trashing elected politicians and, in the former’s case, make a virtue out of reducing elected democracy in Britain.

Massie knows his history and should be read carefully. As Cameron disappears on his fifth holiday so far this year he should read some of the history about politicians and moral crusades. It is language we should leave to bishops we admire and columnists whose judgement we trust. But then, they are in short supply, aren’t they?

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Denis MacShane is MP for Rotherham and was minister for Europe

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Photo: Aral Balkan