Peter Rhodes on “small bubbles” bursting, a pointless comparison and getting the NHS we need

Good to see so many people standing for the one-minute silence in honour of the NHS dead. Not so good to see some of them with their hands in their pockets.

Comparing Britain's coronavirus toll with New Zealand's, as some pundits are doing, is pointless. New Zealand is like a very big farm whereas Britain is urban, overcrowded, with massive international trade and a huge prison population. It's like comparing Camberwick Green with the Bronx.

But there could be something in the theory, voiced by a World Health Organisation official this week, that the high death rate in Britain may in part be a tribute to the NHS which has been stunningly successful in keeping frail people alive.

The NHS has always been better at curing diseases than fixing the causes of diseases. Thus, while we know Type 2 diabetes, obesity and high blood pressure can often be cured by strict diet and lifestyle changes, the easy answer is to dole out pills.

We are an ageing, unfit, pill-popping people and this particular virus preys on such a population. When it's over, governments will feel obliged to pump billions of pounds into the NHS. In return, we deserve a seriously reformed health service which measures its success not in how many tablets or operations it delivers but in creating a stronger, fitter and more resilient population.

The words that chill my soul at the moment are “small bubbles,” the term used to describe little clusters of up to 10 friends or relatives who, as the first step in relaxing lockdown, would be allowed to mix. The trouble with “small bubbles” is that nobody knows how many dodgy contacts may be lurking. What if one of your trusted bubble has a five-year-old whose best mate gave him a hug two days ago and the best friend's gran is feeling a bit feverish in an old folks' home? There is no such thing as a small bubble, just lots of bubbles handcuffed together with some about to burst.

Is there any more dispiriting, heart-stopping start to the day than this message from the BT email service: “You have had too many unsuccessful attempts to login. You have been temporarily locked out. Please try after 15 minutes.” How so when this is your first attempt of the day to log in? And especially when you know, if you simply ignore the message, you can log in perfectly. It's like a virus in the machine. The moment you detect a small glitch, you expect a massive glitch to follow. And in these lockdown times, the moment you lose your broadband, you become a non-person.

A reader takes me to task for likening Robert Harris' Roman novel, Lustrum, to Life of Brian. He makes the point that while Lustrum was set in Rome, the Monty Python epic was not. Entirely correct, sir. And how are things with the Pedants' Front of Judea?