
Britain stands at a crossroads. Once the model of liberty, law, and restraint, it now drifts in a fog of managed emotion and moral confusion. Compassion has become compulsion. Empathy, stripped of reason, has turned inward and begun to devour the very society it once sought to save.
In the book, Dagfinn Bakken traces the slow unravelling of Britain’s institutions: how kindness became a weapon, how guilt replaced judgment, and how a new elite emerged that governs not through strength or wisdom, but through shame. Drawing from history and philosophy, he argues that only a restoration of courage, truth, and love of country can halt the nation’s descent.
This is the story of Britain’s repeal and possible restoration, and a warning to every free people who mistake sentiment for virtue.
Victorious warriors win first and then go to war, while defeated warriors go to war first and then seek to win.
― Sun Tzu
Something has gone wrong in the West. Facts that once anchored public life are pushed aside by feelings and slogans. Truth is negotiated, not discovered. Right and wrong are no longer moral directions but shifting moods that serve the story of the day. In the noise, reason itself begins to sound quaint.
This book is about the health of civilization. I write with the perspective of a Norwegian, a small country that once prized common sense above all. Yet the same drift is visible there. Words lose meaning. Institutions chase virtue in press releases. Ordinary citizens grow silent, afraid to say what they know is true.
I call the force behind this drift the Blob, in the U.S. that's the Deep State. It's the soft power of unaccountable offices, boards, and committees that expand without limit.
It grows like a cancer, feeding on fear and pretend compassion, replacing standards with slogans and reality with managed feelings. Like a cancer, it doesn’t negotiate and it doesn’t stop. It must be identified, contained, and removed for the body to recover.
My aim is not nostalgia but diagnosis. The West is forgetting how to tell the truth, and nations that forget the truth soon forget themselves.
What follows, then, is not nostalgia but navigation, a chart for how a people might find their bearings when all direction seems lost, and how England, by remembering itself, might once more help the rest of us remember who we are.
A modular concept illuminates linguistic uncertainty as a function of curiosity.