Don't Close the Book

It’s simple, straightforward and has barely changed in six decades.

It does what it says on the tin, and always has. It doesn’t virtue-signal or lie to us or order us about.

It even takes cash without complaint.

The local betting shop is, as well, the social centre of many people’s lives. It’s true they tend not to be wealthy people and don't have much else to do - and many of them are old. Two hours or more a day may be spent in the company of friends or, at any rate, acquaintances, arguing over the merits of this jockey or that horse. They can stand outside, drink free coffee and smoke, then return to watch the races and banter with the staff.

If they have no money, no one tells them to go. In winter they have shelter from the elements. The betting office is their library.

Introduced in the 60s to combat illegal gambling, it’s true these places have had their best days. High rollers no longer saunter in with thousands of pounds, wanting to take a price on the favourite in a race due to be off in two minutes (causing frantic phone conversations with head office). Elaborate coups involving used fivers are no longer planned utilising their services.

Progress and the internet is responsible. Natural extinction is probably on the cards.

But now, the high street bookie is under a different attack. They will be cited as responsible for the decline of the high street.

It is their fault, it will be said, that overflowing rubbish bins, pound stores and fast food outlets dominate the urban landscapes in which they are mostly located. If drug dealers and gangs congregate in the vicinity, that will also be considered their fault.

It is likely that local authorities will be given extra powers to shut them down, and they may be encouraged to do so. Putting a dozen people out of work will be represented as socially enlightened behaviour.

As will the creation of yet another vacant premises.

‘Look how we are tackling decay in our cities’, someone will say.

In such a simplistically mendacious environment it seems almost pointless to argue about effects, causes and the folly of treating symptoms rather than diseases. Improving our thoroughfares isn’t on the government’s agenda since this would cost money, not to mention energy and insight.

Scapegoating works better. It is easy to designate a bookie as a den of iniquity, a bad place we would all be better without.

And it’s free to do.

The newly created unemployed will be the same industry workers who were treated so badly last December, being thrown out of work without notice just before Christmas. Getting a new job shouldn’t be too much trouble for them - in Liverpool, Glasgow, Plymouth or London -, should it?