Loneliness cannot be talked about enough. It is one of the themes of our time. But is it also a good theme for a charity campaign?
There is already enough fashionable cynicism in the world. So let's not be pitiful about the Warmest Week. Great initiative. And loneliness is one of the great themes of our time, no misunderstanding about that, it cannot be written and talked about enough. By the way, it's quite cozy there on 't Zand in Bruges.
Only, dear friends of the Warmest Week, ban those authorities from your stage. It is an annual high mass of hypocrisy: at the end of the stage a glittering minister crawls onto the stage with a check from the Flemish government. If they had looted their own piggy bank, we would be applauding. But not if they come and make a big show of it with taxpayers' money.
By the way, I still think it's a strange idea to raise money against loneliness. I have been walking around this planet for forty-eight years, and I have seen hundreds of actions against loneliness: Greeting streets, courtesy ambassadors, cuddle sessions, give a compliment at an unexpected moment. They all died an early death.
And who is the big loser who will now receive less money – otherwise there will be a hole in the budget? Can we know that too?
In 2006 there was the red button campaign. Anyone who pinned on a red button was available for a conversation. The assembled guild of BVs participated, even Steve Stevaert. I also participated, because I would do anything for a good article – I was so stupid back then.
I walked around with such an idiotic button for a month and I have never been laughed at as much as I was then. I didn't know how happy I was without a red button.
I realized that it wasn't all that simple: loneliness cannot be solved by just 'flaming together'. “Social life is a lot more complex than that,” someone told me at the time. 'People don't hang by strings. You can't force spontaneous conversations.' And campaigns around loneliness unfortunately often revolve around self-promotion.
'Solve loneliness? Sometimes it's better not to try that
Pineut
Can I therefore gag a little when a minister (m/f) again presents a large check against loneliness? And who is the big loser who will receive less money – otherwise there will be a hole in the budget? Can we know that too?
Or no, never mind, a politician does not belong on the stage of the Warmest Week. They have to do what they are paid to do in their offices. They also receive a lot of tax money for this. We make a suggestion, it is Christmas after all: create pleasant and more public spaces, where people can meet each other, instead of always doing business with the first project developer that comes along.
Finally, this. The prize for the reader's letter of the year goes to Karel Michielsen from Genk. He sent this epistle to In it: 'I am 76 and have been a widower for almost a year. Since my wife died in Brazil, I have been living in complete loneliness, but I can assure you that the Warmest Week offers me no support. On the contrary: when I see those ladies and gentlemen presenters of the Warmest Week parading on TV, so proud that they care about the lonely people, my feeling of loneliness only increases. I do not know their names, even though they are proclaimed so loudly. I don't want to know them. When I then notice a large crowd of cheering teenagers on TV, who have apparently taken advantage of my loneliness, it gets even worse. What would happen if I were among those teenagers bursting with joy and pride? Would they warmly embrace me, a 76-year-old single man? Or would they call the police to report that a pedophile has been spotted? (…) Stop with the hypocrisy of the Warmest Week. It just makes me sadder and lonelier.'
