Wednesday 4 December 2019

The London Bridge Attack - Everyday Heroes in Times of Crisis


The 29th November 2019 marked another tragedy for the city of London, as terrorist Usman Khan stabbed five people and killed Jack Merritt and Saskia Jones, before being killed himself by police. By all accounts, both Jack and Saskia were kind and vibrant young people, dedicated to supporting rehabilitation of violent offenders and fiercely defiant in their beliefs of the inherent virtue of humanity.

What happened to them has led some to question that virtue, and it is certainly a horrific and unspeakable crime that was committed against them. But to write this off as another terrible day in a world that seems to be getting worse by the hour (if you were to believe your Twitter feed), ignores a significant part of the story.

To match Jack and Saskia’s generosity of spirit, when Khan attacked he was disarmed and held down by several brave members of the public, at great risk to their own lives. Some were also staff at the rehabilitation centre, sharing Jack and Saskia’s passion for the betterment of the human condition. Others, such as James Ford, were ex-offenders themselves, who stood up and took action when they knew it was the right thing to do. If they hadn’t acted when they did, who knows how much more damage Khan could have done?

And they are not alone. From spontaneous volunteers who delayed their own escape to support others in the aftermath of the Manchester bombing, to Paul Dadge, who helped to coordinate response efforts in London following the 7/7 bombings, to those who helped their neighbours escape the recent wildfires in California, people have repeatedly put themselves on the line to protect others at great risk to themselves.

Why do we do this?

I was fortunate to hear a presentation from Dr Chris Cocking at the International Disaster Response Expo on the 4th December, who discussed this phenomenon of spontaneous volunteerism and everyday heroism in crises in detail. He calls those that act to support others in these situations “zero responders”, in reference to the fact that they are active on a scene before the emergency services, or first-responders, arrive.

Dr Cocking, and collaborator Dr John Drury at the University of Sussex, have done significant work in the area of crowd response to disasters, and the psychological evidence for how people act in times of crisis is more positive than you might think. The fallacy of “mass panic” suggests that crowds respond chaotically and in a self-interested way in response to traumatic events. In reality, more often than not, bystanders and victims of terror attacks or disasters respond collectively, often remaining in danger themselves in order to support others.

It is very easy to look at the events of the 29th November and to fall victim to the divisive politics that such acts are designed to elicit. When all we see are terror attacks, gang violence, and seemingly senseless criminal activity on our TV screens and phones, we can be forgiven for thinking that the default human condition is one of violence and destruction. But what Jack Merritt, Saskia Jones, and Paul Dadge demonstrate to us is that this is not the case. Humans are capable of almost unimaginable acts of horror, but that does not define who we are. As Jack and Saskia so firmly believed, even those that have done bad in the past have the potential to do good in the future. James Ford, the convicted murderer who helped to stop Usman Khan from harming more people on London Bridge, might just be a manifestation of that belief.

Jack Merritt’s father said after his son’s death that Jack believed fundamentally in the goodness of the human spirit. So should we all. Acts of terror are designed to divide us, to scare us, and to make us think that there is nothing we can do to prevent tragedy from befalling us. But for every misguided terror advocate there are many more ordinary people who simply want to help.

I have no doubt that whilst those members of the public were fighting off Usman Khan, there were many more helpers tending to the wounded in the fish market, supporting those who were distressed, calling the emergency services and keeping others informed of the area where the danger was. For every Usman Khan, there is a Lukasz Koczocik, a Stevie Hurst, or a Thomas Gray. For every hate preacher spouting an ideology of division and death there is a Jack Merritt or Saskia Jones. For every unspeakable act of horror, there are a dozen quiet, unspoken and unrecognised acts of kindness.

As more details unfold regarding the events and people involved in this shocking attack, we should consider what this means for all of us. Are we agents of violence and anger, fuelled by hatred rather than by reality, or are we believers in the strength of humans to achieve the greater good?

Like James Ford, do we have the capacity to be both?

Jack Merritt and Saskia Jones believed that he, a violent convicted murderer, could become more than that. For a few short minutes in the context of chaos in the Fishmonger’s Hall at London Bridge, he was. Does that absolve him of his crimes? Absolutely not. Does that mean that he was any less of a hero in that particular instant than the other members of the public who threw themselves into harms way? I don’t know. But I do know that it complicates what we mean when we call someone a hero. It leaves us with uncomfortable questions about the very nature of humankind. It leaves us no closer to an answer as to what we are or why we do what we do, but I believe that Jack and Saskia were carving out an answer in their actions and with their words. It is up to us to follow their path.

In a world that feels increasingly hostile and dangerous, we should take a step back and think about what we really believe in. We must examine why people can be driven to commit such abhorrent acts of violence against those that do not deserve it. But we must also acknowledge that in the worst of times, occasionally we can catch a glimpse of the very best of us.

When there is a tendency to fear and distrust those that we do not know or whose culture we do not understand, we must push back against that with all our might. When it feels as though there is nothing that can be done to help in a scary and desperate situation, we must try to do something anyway. Social psychology tells us that most of us will.

In a world that fixates on anger and violence, we must be kind. And we must aggressively, unapologetically, believe in the kindness of others.

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