Notes from the Night Bus
Kakistocracy (n) government by the worst, the least competent, the least scrupulous
Recently, whilst drowsing away the evening in a disreputable boozer in which requesting a treble gin doesn’t induce cardiac arrest in one’s hosts, I met an interesting chap.
We shared a few jokes about the insipid Keir Starmer, the tiresome Angela Rayner, the oleaginous Wes Streeting, the snakish Andy Burnham. We joked about West Ham’s unfunny misfortunes. We mocked a thirty-something hipster who let the entire postcode know he was drinking non-alcoholic beer. And then, having exhausted the marginalia, we swivelled our heads toward the football on the screen above.
My single-serving friend turned toward me. He confided: “You know why them Americans got the World Cup this year, duntcha?”
“No,” I said. “Why?”
“Fink-a-bad-it…”
I thought about it. America. The world’s sole superpower. The richest, most powerful, most culturally hegemonic nation on earth and indeed ever. I considered their resplendent stadia, their 350 million citizens, their gaudy, undeniable wealth, and their infuriating ability to make even the most humdrum event entertaining.
“I’m not quite sure…” I said.
My disposable friend enjoyed my studied cluelessness.
“The Jews. Mate, them Jews run everyfink.”
“Ah!” I said. “That old chestnut.”
This kind of conversation is depressingly familiar in 2026. What was once the preserve of jabbering paranoiacs and loons is now the fare of seemingly anyone with a smartphone buzzing in their palm.
I must add that this chap was of the old-school Jew-bashing variety. I give him credit where due. At least he says, ‘The Jews’ unlike the keffiyeh-draped bores who hide their monomania behind ‘Zionists.’ I like my antisemites to be of the original recipe.
I am not Jewish. But I admit the faintest grasp of statistics. The Jewish people make up 0.2% of the world population and yet claim one fifth of Nobel Prizes. They’re on to something.
After traipsing toward the Tube, I thought more about the revelations in the pub. About “Them Jews,” and how they “run every-fink.” I got to Old Street station to see yellow tape stretched across the entrance. Not a good sign.
“What’s going on, mate?” I asked.
The Transport for London worker replied: “No idea, mate.”
“You’ve no idea why the station is shut?”
“No, mate. Sorry.”
“You do work here?”
“Yes,” he said, dangling his lanyard. “Wouldn’t be wearing this otherwise.”
Ah, I thought. Excuse me for asking silly questions.
With a can of Polish lager in my hand, I serpentined along the streets toward Holborn, some three miles in the distance. I had plenty of time to ruminate over them Jews. Problems—social, cultural, economic—swirled around my sopping head. By the time I’d stepped on to the N7 night bus, I’d taxonomized modern Britain and concluded that nothing worked. (For the unacquainted, the night bus is essentially a rolling prison. It solves the overcrowding issue.)
Perhaps the most damning evidence against a secret Jewish conspiracy is the parlous state of the country itself. In modern Britain, even our broken clocks aren’t right twice a day. If there is a shadowy cabal orchestrating behind the scenes, then they’re grossly incompetent.
Indeed, one glance at our inglorious succession of useless governments and any reasonable person would conclude that there is a conspiracy—a conspiracy of incompetents whose only talents lie in their expert gawping into their selfie cameras. A conspiracy of those too plain for the camera and too dim for anything else. If anything, then, our problems stem from a total lack of that word one must not utter unless in its derisory form. That word is ‘elitist.’
The next evening, a stranger butted into my conversation.
“You talk bollocks, young man. The problem with this country,” he said. “Is the old boys’ network. The posh boys—elitists they are—run everything in the background. Ordinary people are shut out of power.”
After missing the last Tube for the second night running, I had plenty of time to ruminate on this claim. Here I had two competing conspiracies from both ends of the lunatic fringe. One from the antisemitic conspiracy wing, and the other from the conspiratorial far left. Funnily enough, if these sworn enemies were to spend an hour chatting over a pint or two, they’d come away agreeing on most of the issues. Issue number one: all the world’s problems stem from a shadowy cabal of conniving, intelligent figures bent on running things as they see fit.
There is a major problem with this habit of thought. To believe such a fable requires one to accept that this cabal is both cunning and intelligent, yet hapless and incompetent. Apparently, the Jews control the weather but cannot run the buses on time; they’ve won a fifth of Nobel prizes, devised time and relativity, but cannot fill the potholes pockmarking the roads. It is quite the paradox.
I once dated a Jewish girl. Soon, it became apparent why the Jewish people are overrepresented in every cultural and social sphere. They’re good at things. That’s it. Here is the conspiracy: the Jewish people revere thinking and industry and bettering themselves. This is a duty of their people. And so is debate. As they say, two Jews, four opinions.
Let’s leave the Jewish people alone for just a minute. What about the overrepresentation of Chinese and East Asians in Britain’s top universities? What about the fact that British Indians are one of the most successful minorities in Britain, whilst their fellow Asians—Pakistanis and Bangladeshis—are amongst the worst off? British Africans do well here, too, much better than British Caribbeans. In America, by some measures at least, Nigerian Americans are the most successful of all.
My question is simple: are those groups engaged in conspiracies of competence? Are East Asians and Indians and Nigerians all in on a shadowy plot to develop valuable skills and exploit those skills for a nice fat pay packet and a middle-class life?
If only there were more such people committed to such nefarious conspiracy. This conspiracy of the industrious, the competent and the intelligent could burrow itself into the levers of power and fix our many, many problems. But that sounds too good to be true.
As one of the alleged conspirators, I can confirm our meetings mostly consist of arguing with each other and complaining about the catering. Wonderful piece. And timely. I needed something to lighten up the times and make me laugh. And by the way, a group of my fellow friends have come up with a solution to the night bus problem: Juber.