The news reaches us with the predictable solemnity of a press release: James Handy, a name unknown to most until this moment, has been stabbed in the United States. The London Metropolitan Police, ever eager to prove its relevance, now announces a ‘review’ of extradition protocols for the suspect. How modern, how bureaucratic, how utterly useless.
One cannot help but draw a parallel to the late Roman Empire, a civilisation so consumed by legalistic minutiae that it failed to notice the barbarians at the gate. Today, our barbarians come not with swords but with knives, and they cross borders with terrifying ease. Yet our response is not swift justice but a committee.
The Met’s review is a farce, a performative gesture for a public grown weary of impotence. We are witnessing the intellectual decadence of our age: a refusal to act decisively, a preference for process over outcome. The Victorians, for all their faults, would have had the suspect extradited within a week, the paperwork trailing behind like a servant.
Now we debate protocols while the blood dries on the pavement. This is national identity in decline, a once-proud system reduced to trembling at the thought of offending an American ally. James Handy may be a victim, but the real casualty here is the very idea of justice.
We must stop flattering ourselves with the illusion of sophistication. The Fall of Rome did not happen in a day; it happened in a thousand small betrayals of common sense. This review is ours.
