1. Only skin deep

 

 

Dear Sir
I am writing in response to Gordon Haig’s recent column in The Daily Tribune deploring the fascination of the young with tattoos. Gordon Haig appears to believe that tattooing heralds the downfall of western civilization. In his no doubt vast experience, “those who decorate themselves with images or texts etched indelibly in the skin are symptomatic of the depths to which our society has sunk. These people who disfigure themselves to show their disdain for Establishment conventions are nothing short of depraved.”

 

As it happens, I agree with Gordon Haig to the extent that I find the majority of tattoos unattractive, distasteful even, and it is a mystery to me why anybody would want to mark their body in this way. However, I firmly believe that anybody who chooses to take this step is entitled to do so without having to suffer discrimination and ridicule.

In all societies and at all times throughout history, human beings have gone to great lengths with clothing and body decoration, for example, to display wealth or social status or indicate adherence to a group. As a species we take a natural interest in our appearance. Fashions in dress, hairstyle and personal adornment reflect our times and how we want to present ourselves to the rest of the world.

Inevitably we judge people by the way they look, often jumping to conclusions about the kind of people they are based on the cut of their jeans or the colour of their hair, but unless a certain look is clearly associated with a harmful ideology or aggressive behaviour, people should be free to express themselves through their appearance as they see fit. As enlightened members of a civilized society, we have a duty neither to dismiss nor adulate people on account of their appearance, but rather to scrutinize their words and behavior, to judge them on how they treat their fellow human beings. This is what counts.

In London a few years ago, I was returning late to my hotel after a visit to the theatre. It was not far short of midnight when I found myself on the platform of an underground station with an unpleasant sensation of pressure in my chest. The train was due. As the pain increased and started to spread down my arm, panic set in. If I was on the verge of a heart attack, boarding an underground train was surely not a wise move. I tried to keep calm but as I turned to the people nearest me, a smartly dressed couple, similar to me in age and appearance, who had perhaps even been at the same performance as me, I could feel myself starting to sway. At that moment the train drew up at the platform. The couple I had approached for help side-stepped me and swiftly boarded the train. I expect they thought I was drunk. The only thing I remember after that is arms catching me before I fell.

The arms that held me were covered in skulls and writhing snakes and belonged to a courageous young man, who without hesitation applied first aid until the ambulance arrived. At a moment in my life when my insides were letting me down badly, I was fortunate enough to encounter a fellow human being who was all good on the inside. Gordon Haig would be well advised to rememberthat tattoos are only skin deep.

Yours faithfully
John Brentwood