The explosion at a fireworks factory in Malta has, predictably, drawn the attention of British safety experts. But before we cluck our tongues in self-congratulatory relief, let us reflect. This is not merely an industrial accident.
It is a symbol of our age: a careless pursuit of cheap thrills, a disregard for the craft of danger, and a bureaucratic fetish for regulation that seeks to sanitise every corner of human existence. The Victorians, who built an empire on risk and innovation, would find our hand-wringing both tedious and contemptible. We have become a people more concerned with safety briefings than with mastery of our own creations.
The Maltese, who have a long tradition of fireworks, have been reduced to the status of cautionary tales. But the experts will come, write their reports, and we will all nod wisely. And nothing will change.
Because the real problem is not faulty regulations or shoddy practices. It is a society that has lost its nerve, that would rather outsource risk to committees than take responsibility for its own actions. The Fall of Rome was not caused by a single explosion; it was caused by a thousand small surrenders to mediocrity.
We are witnessing one of them now.
