Britain’s War Factories: Building Bombs, Not Homes
Starmer’s weapons pipeline is less about deterring war and more about embedding militarism into the heart of Britain’s economic model.
The rest of the blog
Starmer’s weapons pipeline is less about deterring war and more about embedding militarism into the heart of Britain’s economic model.
Ryan’s Second Strike is a taut, post-Brexit techno-thriller in which privatised warfare meets Cold War ghosts, and the real enemy is the story you’re told to believe.
Geoff Dyer’s Homework shows childhood not as innocence, but as class training—plastic toys, unwritten rules, and a welfare state already fraying at the edges.
Britain doesn’t need a softer Starmer or a greener liberalism—it needs a new party of revolutionary ecosocialism, built by those brave enough to walk out and fight for class power, not manage its decline.
They say prisons are overcrowded, as if the cages are too small. As if the problem is spatial. As if all we need is a few more acres of razor wire and reinforced concrete and the crisis will vanish. But prisons aren’t full because we lack space. They’re full because we lack imagination.
Nigel Farage isn’t the voice of the working class—he’s their grifter-in-chief, selling tax cuts to the comfortable while Labour trails behind him, too timid to name the real enemy.
The fascist right can’t decide if the country is bursting at the seams or facing demographic collapse. One minute it’s “no more room”, the next it’s “have more babies”. Strip away the rhetoric, and the truth is clear: this isn’t about numbers. It’s about race and it always has been.
The United States is no longer sliding toward fascism; it is actively constructing it, one arrested judge, one silenced journalist, and one gutted civil rights protection at a time
Power posed, punishment filtered, the spectacle made beautiful.
Trump’s congressional address wasn’t just another rambling performance. It was a blueprint for a more chaotic, authoritarian world. His wavering on Ukraine signalled open season for Putin, while his economic nationalism masked a deeper agenda: consolidating power by pitting workers against each other while serving the same ruling class that fuels crisis and war. This isn’t just about Trump. It’s about a capitalist system in decay, turning to reaction and repression to sustain itself. The question isn’t whether we can stop him, it’s whether we can break the cycle before it’s too late.
Trump’s tariff war is not about economic nationalism, it’s a desperate attempt to prop up a failing system through class warfare, digital authoritarianism, and mass repression. As capitalism stumbles deeper into crisis, the dominant class turns to protectionism, billionaire governance, and algorithmic control to maintain its grip, ensuring that workers, migrants, and the global precariat bear the cost.
The transition is complete. The bureaucracy is being purged, executive orders rain down like decrees from a throne, and opposition is branded treasonous. The state is no longer a neutral machine for capitalist management—it is becoming an instrument of direct class war. Trump’s second term is not simply a rerun of his first; it is something darker, more disciplined, more openly repressive. The threats against political enemies are no longer bluster—they are policy. The FBI and CIA are being reshaped in his image, turned from institutions of surveillance into enforcers of ideological loyalty. Official diktats appear not just in government memos but on X, where Musk, the regime’s favoured oligarch, polls his Twitler Youth on whom to exile next. The question is no longer whether American democracy is eroding but whether we are watching its final transformation into something else entirely. Neoliberalism is collapsing, and in its ruins, a new order is emerging. The only question is: what kind?