Morning Call: pick of the papers

The ten must-read comment pieces from this morning's papers.

1. There's no need for all this economic sadomasochism (Guardian)

If Reinhart and Rogoff's 'error' has discredited the prevailing policy dogma, now is the time for an alternative that works, says David Graeber.

2. Our shameful hierarchy - some deaths matter more than others (Independent)

Why is the slaughter in Boston more shocking or newsworthy than the deaths in Iraq, asks Owen Jones.

3. To beat the Left, Tories must aim for its heart (Times)

It is not enough to win the policy argument, says Tim Montgomerie. Conservatives need to show their thinking has a moral dimension too.

4. Case for a Little England stance on Syria (Financial Times)

Heed the lessons from interventions that turned bad, writes Max Hastings.

5. Atrocities such as the Boston bombing are hard to tackle, but gun crime isn't (Guardian)

The greatest threat to US citizens is not one-off terror attacks, but the menace that comes with mass gun-ownership, says Gary Younge.

6. It’s hard to tell jihad from immature rage (Times)

The Boston bombers may have been driven more by a warped desire for notoriety than by real fanaticism, writes Gaby Hinsliff.

7. We can’t afford to ignore our dynamic friends in the East (Daily Telegraph)

The Gulf is booming, its people love Britain and they want to invest here, writes Boris Johnson. Let’s encourage them.

8. Labour and Scotland: a tie that binds (Guardian)

If the rhetoric of one nation is to mean something, much is to be said for caution over cutting such a strong link, says a Guardian editorial. 

9. IMF boss turns on the Chancellor to hide her own sins (Daily Mail)

Lagarde and the IMF are engaged in a huge effort to play down, or at least distract attention from, the catastrophic state of economic affairs in France – and indeed the eurozone as a whole, says Alex Brummer. 

10. The wrong way on child poverty (Independent)

More discussion about definitions of poverty would be welcome, says an Independent editorial. But it must not become an excuse for cynically moving the goalposts.

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Anxiety is not cool, funny or fashionable

A charitable initative to encourage sufferers to knit a Christmas jumper signalling their condition is well-intentioned but way off the mark.

The other night, I had one of those teeth-falling-out dreams. I dreamt I was on a bus, and every time it stopped one of my teeth plunked effortlessly out of my skull. “Shit,” I said to myself, in the dream, “this is like one of those teeth-falling out dreams”. Because – without getting too Inception – even in its midst, I realised this style of anxiety dream is a huge cliché.

Were my subconscious a little more creative, maybe it would’ve concocted a situation where I was on a bus (sure, bus, why not?), feeling anxious (because I nearly always feel anxious) and I’m wearing a jumper with the word “ANXIOUS” scrawled across my tits, so I can no longer hyperventilate – in private — about having made a bad impression with the woman who just served me in Tesco. What if, in this jumper, those same men who tell women to “smile, love” start telling me to relax. What if I have to start explaining panic attacks, mid-panic attack? Thanks to mental health charity Anxiety UK, this more original take on the classic teeth-falling-out dream could become a reality. Last week, they introduced an awareness-raising Christmas “anxiety” jumper.

It’s difficult to slate anyone for doing something as objectively important as tackling the stigma around mental health problems. Then again, right now, I’m struggling to think of anything more anxiety-inducing than wearing any item of clothing that advertises my anxiety. Although I’m fully prepared to accept that I’m just not badass enough to wear such a thing. As someone whose personal style is “background lesbian”, the only words I want anywhere near my chest are “north” and “face”.  

It should probably be acknowledged that the anxiety jumper isn’t actually being sold ready to wear, but as a knitting pattern. The idea being that you make your own anxiety jumper, in whichever colours you find least/most stressful. I’m not going to go on about feeling “excluded” – as a non-knitter – from this campaign. At the same time, the “anxiety jumper” demographic is almost definitely twee middle class millennials who can/will knit.

Photo: Anxiety UK

Unintentionally, I’m sure, a jumper embellished with the word “anxious” touts an utterly debilitating condition as a trend. Much like, actually, the “anxiety club” jumper that was unanimously deemed awful earlier this year. Granted, the original anxiety jumper — we now live in a world with at least two anxiety jumpers — wasn’t charitable or ostensibly well intentioned. It had a rainbow on it. Which was either an astute, ironic comment on how un-rainbow-like  anxiety is or, more likely, a poorly judged non sequitur farted into existence by a bored designer. Maybe the same one who thought up the Urban Outfitters “depression” t-shirt of 2014.

From Zayn Malik to Oprah Winfrey, a growing number of celebrities are opening up about what may seem, to someone who has never struggled with anxiety, like the trendiest disorder of the decade. Anxiety, of course, isn’t trendy; it’s just incredibly common. As someone constantly reassured by the fact that, yes, millions of other people have (real life) panic meltdowns on public transport, I could hardly argue that we shouldn’t be discussing our personal experiences of anxiety. But you have to ask whether anyone would be comfortable wearing a jumper that said “schizophrenic” or “bulimic”. Anxiety, it has to be said, has a tendency – as one of the more “socially acceptable” mental illnesses — to steal the limelight.

But I hope we carry on talking anxiety. I’m not sure Movember actually gets us talking about prostates, but it puts them out there at least. If Christmas jumpers can do the same for the range of mental health issues under the “anxiety” umbrella, then move over, Rudolph.

Eleanor Margolis is a freelance journalist, whose "Lez Miserable" column appears weekly on the New Statesman website.