And countries get closer to reviving old trade wars, where neighbours withhold, and ransom, emblems of neighbourliness, goods that were once thought basic to survival. Instead we get closer to the remoteness where arms and drones are what we exchange, in wars that offer no escape from conflict.
There our former stance of holding tight to our allies, whilst keeping a closely watch on our enemies, all in the hope of unity, now seems somewhat pointless.
Diplomacy used to be the art of 'saying the quiet part quietly', and leaving the diplomats to get on with tasks required of them.
But with modern wars of attrition diplomacy has become headline news, as day after day each shift in position prompts a new speculative quote fills the acres of online print and hours of radio journalism.
If only, I think, we did not need the quiet part to be said at all. but with a 'bread and circuses' media feeding us whatever jot and tittle of gossip has fallen from the leaders table we know less and less of what is actually going on than we ever knew when we knew nothing at all.
Alchemy is to autocracy what science is to democracy.
When an alchemist has a success he will share the results with his fellows, whether alchemist or high status citizen, but he will never share, or compare with other alchemists, the processes by which those results were achieved.
Autocrats, like alchemists, root their faith in their manipulations of nature and people in how far they are above having to explain their actions. able, Whether alchemist or autocrat, they hide their failures behind word salads, and slight of hand and word presentations.
Both modern science and democracy are experiments where confidence in the process depends on openness, and well thought out definitions for the parameters of what counts as as 'success', where the process of being observably effective matters more than any given result.
Though how either system stacks up against the plethora of new media, boosted by turbo capitalism, remains to be seen....
Oh the bright young men in their tight-buttoned suits: yeah, the light beams out from capped smiles to the shines on their lick-spittle boots, on their lick-spittle boots. Oh these sharp young sparks with their fresh rosettes – yeah, the artful way that they promise the earth to all suffragettes. What they won't promise we don't know yet.
They say they're building and shaping society but we know they're just saving for their own safe home in politics, a safe home in politics. Anything goes: look at them run.
Come from every side, noses Pinocchio clean; lock in synchromesh, oil the wheels and the gears of the party machine, of the party machine. And the final goal is a cabinet seat... in the trappings of power, the presumption to speak for the man in the street, for the man in the street.
Once they move in, they're in for good; yeah, once they get that bed made it's a safe home in politics, a safe home in politics. Jobs for the boys: look at them run.
Yeah, there's just one thing none of us should forget: a political man is just in it for power and the smell of success, for power and the smell of success.
Yeah, some start out as idealists – pretty soon they all cop for ideal careers and a safe home in politics, a safe home in politics, a cushy job in politics, a cushy job in politics; oh, look at them run.
Politicians fight it out on the conning tower but they all agree not to rock the boat. It's a safe home in politics. It's built on your vote.