Ah, another day, another moral panic. The Philippines, in a fit of righteous fury, has banned a video game following a school shooting. Because clearly, it was the pixels that pulled the trigger, not the gaping wounds in society, mental health care, or the easy availability of actual weapons. The game in question? Something with guns, presumably. Because all video games are the same, aren't they? It's like blaming spoons for making people fat.
Meanwhile, across the pond, the UK is 'reviewing online safety laws' with the solemn gravity of a man examining a suspicious stain on his carpet. The Online Safety Bill, a legislative behemoth that has been delayed more times than a British Rail service, is now being dusted off and paraded around as the solution to everything from terrorist propaganda to someone being mean on Twitter. The government, in its infinite wisdom, has decided that the best way to prevent real-world violence is to police virtual worlds. Because nothing says 'safety' like a bunch of politicians who think 'Fortnite' is a type of cheese.
Let us not forget the sheer hypocrisy at play here. The same politicians who happily pose with assault rifles for photo ops are now wringing their hands over a video game. The same government that slashes mental health budgets is now clutching its pearls over online content. It's a beautiful dance of deflection, a masterclass in missing the point.
But then again, what else can we expect? We live in a world where 'thoughts and prayers' are considered a policy, where 'common sense' is as rare as a sober MP, and where the solution to a complex problem is always a simple, headline-grabbing ban. Ban the game. Ban the internet. Ban everything that might cause a child to think for themselves. Because the real danger isn't the isolation, the lack of purpose, or the societal decay. No, it's the pixels. Always the pixels.
So yes, Philippines, ban that game. UK, review those laws. But while you're at it, perhaps also consider why a teenager feels the need to pick up a gun. Investigate the poverty, the inequality, the complete and utter failure of the systems meant to protect the vulnerable. But that's hard work, isn't it? Much easier to blame a digital scapegoat.
In the end, this isn't about safety. It's about theatre. It's about the illusion of action, a way to appear concerned without actually doing anything meaningful. It's a grand performance, and we are all the audience, clapping along as the world burns.
But fear not. There is always gin. And satire. And the hope that one day, someone will realise that the problem isn't the game, the problem is the world the game reflects. Until then, pass the bottle.
