20 Britain The EconomistApril 4th 2020
2 ed at a distance. Lawyers complained that
existing technology regularly failed.
Then, on March 19th, Ian Burnett, the
Lord Chief Justice, told judges that “we will
be using technology...which even a month
ago would have been unthinkable.” Some
courts remain open for essential face-to-
face hearings; jury trials will not take place
remotely. But many other hearings are now
using technology. The bespoke video soft-
ware the courts service had been develop-
ing for use in trials is not ready, so judges,
lawyers and clients have simply turned to
off-the-shelf platforms, such as Skype. Be-
fore the crisis about 200 cases a day were
being heard at least partially via conference
call or video-link. By March 31st that had
risen to around 1,800. The Supreme Court
now exists entirely online.
Concerns remain about holding sub-
stantive rather than administrative hear-
ings by video-link; indeed, evidence sug-
gests judges are less likely to offer bail
when not receiving evidence in person. But
the move to online working has been
smoother than many expected. Richard
Susskind, who has been evangelising for
online courts since 1981, thinks their mo-
ment has finally come. From self-isolation,
he has noticed a sudden spike in sales of
his book, “Online Courts and the Future of
Justice”. The pandemic is a human tragedy
but it is also, he says, “one big testbed for
these ideas”.
Some parts of the state are struggling to
keep up. Firms are due to receive state sub-
sidies for workers they have furloughed
this month, but the self-employed will not
receive their support until June. In Ger-
many, by contrast, such payments have al-
ready landed. The vast numbers of Britons
unable to wait for the money risk over-
whelming the benefits system. One bottle-
neck is Verify, a private system through
which users confirm their identity.
There are also problems in the health
system, such as a lack protective equip-
ment for medics, with distribution diffi-
culties to blame. The government is strug-
gling to ramp up testing (see story on next
page). Other services have no choice but to
continue as before: there is not yet a way to
collect the bins remotely. But where inno-
vation is possible, in patches, it is happen-
ing at a staggering pace.
Dominic Cummings, the prime minis-
ter’s chief aide, and an advocate of revolu-
tion in government, has written of how a
“beneficial crisis” can drive change. It
seems improbable that even he would have
chosen this route to reform. But as Nigel
Edwards, chief executive of the Nuffield
Trust, a think-tank, notes: “When we re-
view all of this...we’ll find that some of the
processes and systems that got in the way
were not all that necessary.” Epidemiolo-
gists will undoubtedly learn lessons from
the outbreak. So should Whitehall. 7“F
rittatas, scrambled eggs, om-
elettes...” The crisis is no reason to let
diets slip, reckons Eleanor Jaskowska. As
panic buying took off and lockdown
loomed, she bought three rescue hens.
Saved from an untimely end in the slaugh-
terhouse, Maggie Hatcher, Roberta and
Ginger are now free to roam around her
sunny garden in Bristol. In return, their
eggs make for delicious suppers.
As Britain hunkers down in week two of
self-isolation, families are settling into a
timewarp that lies somewhere between the
mid-21st century and the 1950s. Aside from
working virtually and binge-watching Net-
flix, they are keeping chickens, playing
board games, baking bread and knitting
sweaters. Queues for the shops, recalling
postwar rationing, are encouraging people
to grow or cook their own. The British Hen
Welfare Trust rehoused 2,000 ex-battery
hens in the week to March 29th; it has had
requests for 20,000 more. One poultry
breeder says she has been bombarded with
requests for hens that are “ready to lay”.
Bread-making is back in vogue, after be-
ing sent into decline in 1961 when scientists
developed a way of making bread 40% soft-
er, that also reduced its cost and doubled its
life. Supermarket shoppers are hoarding
baking ingredients as well as loo paper.
Some are abandoning food-delivery apps
and experimenting with new recipes. Onone community WhatsApp group, families
offer to drop off samples of their latest cre-
ations on neighbours’ doormats. But many
are eschewing traditional cookbooks, and
learning the modern way. Matthew Jones,
owner of Bread Ahead in London’s Borough
Market, is live-streaming daily baking
classes on Instagram. Judging by the fig-
ures, the nation thinks Mr Jones’s sessions
are the best thing since, well, sliced bread.
His account amassed 30,000 new followers
in two days.
Many young people have scarpered
from cities to lockdown with their parents,
hunkering down with younger siblings
who are off school. Of an evening, they
gather in their living rooms to make their
own fun, just as it used to be. Board games
are making a comeback, with sales jump-
ing by 240% during the first week of lock-
down. Perhaps it is not surprising that Mo-
nopoly Classic is the most sought-after
game: it is the closest that most Londoners
are likely to get to Pall Mall or Leicester
Square for some time. With gyms closed
and people hungry for exercise, bicycles
are also rolling off the shelves at speed.
Slow-burning activities like learning an
instrument are educational and kill time,
too. The Sound Garden, an independent
music shop in north London, has sold out
of all entry-level acoustic guitars. Ukuleles
are also popular. Karen Davis and her 12-
year-old son have taken it up. “We strum
away badly, sing terribly and bring joy into
the monotony of lockdown,” she says.
“Self-isolation is forcing us to rethink fam-
ily time. You don’t want your evenings to
become what they used to be, slumping in
front of the sofa and watching Netflix.” And
the 21st century can help with 1950s pas-
times: their ukulele tuition is being provid-
ed by a local music school, via Zoom. 7Cooped-up Britons hatch family
entertainment plans, 1950s-styleLife under lockdownHome comforts
The times they are a-changin’ back