The Puerility of Symbolic Sneering

Tom Whyman’s recent column in The Guardian is a case study in unserious commentary dressed up as insight. It is, in a word, puerile—not simply because it is poorly argued, but because it fundamentally refuses to take seriously the issues it claims to address.

The core of Whyman’s article is a straw man: that those engaging in graffiti-cleaning activism believe such work will “fix” Britain. In truth, no one—including the activists themselves—makes such a claim. These actions are symbolic, yes, but not trivial. They aim to express civic pride, reassert local ownership, and model participation at a time when state leadership is either absent or inept.

Whyman dismisses all this with a sneer, then offers nothing in its place. The final paragraphs recite familiar leftist grievances—venture capital, privatisation, housing failures—but do so without argument, evidence, or policy suggestions. It reads like someone ticking boxes on a cultural bingo card rather than attempting serious critique.

More than anything, the tone betrays a posture of superiority without responsibility. It is easier to mock small actions than to build consensus around large ones. But if The Guardian sees its role as enabling public understanding and meaningful critique, it should demand more than smug detachment.

This kind of writing illustrates something deeper: the loss of seriousness in parts of the British commentariat. There is, across much of contemporary media, a reflexive dismissal of any initiative that doesn’t fit within an accepted ideological framework. In this case, even modest civic action is framed as a kind of bourgeois pantomime—presumably because it doesn’t emanate from the “correct” quadrant of the political compass.

But real political maturity means acknowledging that both symbolism and structure matter. Cleaning a train isn’t policy—but it might point toward a cultural reset, a reclaiming of public space and dignity. And that matters.

Whyman offers neither analysis nor action. He critiques without constructing, dismisses without discerning. That isn’t left-wing. It isn’t radical. It isn’t anything—except puerile.

Conclusion

Britain is indeed broken—but not by graffiti. It is broken by precisely the kind of intellectual laziness Whyman exemplifies: a refusal to see value in anything that isn’t a top-down, ideologically pure policy plan. Meanwhile, those actually trying to do something—however small—deserve engagement, not mockery.

Let’s debate the big picture. But let’s stop pretending that cheap cynicism is the same thing as serious thought.