Spontaneity is the lifeblood, the mainspring, the necessary condition for human existence. Without random, spontaneity – and therefore our very humanity – cannot exist. And as our world is evermore predictable – but more importantly, predicted – so random disappears, spontaneity loses its prerequisite, and humanity becomes extinct from the face of our rock.

Why are we bewildered by the politicians we get on both sides of the Atlantic, both in the US and in the UK, both in Europe and in the world outwith our Western-centric presumptuousness, when precisely this profession – as if profession was a word that politicos deserved these days … when it is exactly these creatures, from Thatcher and Blatcher onwards, who have used so aggressively the bestiality that is nudge? In attempting with all their means – and their mean – to drive unpredictability out of our lives, they are reducing the chances of random a millionfold – and reducing, too, therefore, without perhaps intending their crime, the humanity and the creativity and the inspirational and the fabulous from every single nanny and crook that inhabits this place we – even today – wish that it might become: that freedom of woman, man, gorgeous still untouched child; of genders multiple; of lover and doer and changesmith and goldsmith; and plater of platinum; and waiter of sheer abandon.

And so whilst all the above, I see it now so clear: the analytics of predict – unless partnered in fair and just pair – will only serve to destroy the vestiges of embrace, that yet can we display and yet may we find – chance a good thing! – easy possible to enjoy.

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