At one point this week, I was going to write about Donald Trump’s Supreme Court nominee. Another possibility was the danger posed by his attacks on the judiciary. And then only a day or so ago, I was almost certainly definitely eulogising the death of any meaningful opposition in this country. But then something happened in Cambridge, something which outraged and upset, something which reached the national press, sparked up the perennial Varsity/Tab rivalry, and saw CUCA sulk over the lack of fire directed at the Law Society and Pembroke JCR.

The repugnance of the deed – burning a £20 note in front of a homeless person, all while wearing white tie – is undeniable. The outpouring of fury and disgust on the part of Cambridge students is entirely natural, entirely unsurprising. But now that the dust has cleared somewhat, I think we ought to reflect a little.

“It seems wrong that those who are homeless should rely upon charity for survival at all”

While many of us choose to vent our anger on social media, something close to 4,134 men and women across England will be sleeping rough this evening. While we bay for blood, something close to 418 households (anything from a single person to a family of five) will be facing the ordeal of homelessness. The number of rough sleepers in the UK has increased by 134 per cent since 2010. This is a national disgrace. Any individual capable of such sadism as Ronald Coyne rightly deserves contempt.

But let us not allow him to become the unwitting martyr for our ‘sins’ – let us not delude ourselves into thinking that the fury we hurl his way does not, not even a little bit, help to relieve the guilt we feel.

And I don’t think I’m exaggerating when I call it guilt. What else is that feeling that throttles you as you pass the man outside Sainsbury’s, asking if – no, no, of course. A strange social code surrounds the homeless. The awkward looking away, the lack of change, that mixture of pity and discomfort: we have all felt it.

Some students here are incredibly generous, both with their time and their money. As I write, the JustGiving page set up in the wake up the £20 incident has raised £3,048.60 for Jimmy’s Cambridge, a local homeless charity. Many students give their time to RAG and other charities in the city. 

These efforts are admirable and show the best of us. But it seems wrong that those who are homeless should rely upon charity for survival at all. Charity is all some people have – the difference between life and death in some cases – but let us not be mistaken: charity can never be seen as more than a temporary stop-gap. It is not the solution. An end to homelessness can be the only acceptable outcome, and that will only come from the government. Social housing – government. Fair welfare – government. Mental health provision – government.

It may seem rather futile to be saying this now: we can protest, we can petition, but ultimately, what can we do? I think recognising that this isn’t good enough is a good start. The very fact of homelessness is corrosive, for it desensitises us to suffering. The victims themselves of course suffer in a very real sense, both physically and mentally. The damage it does to the rest of society, though more diffuse, is insidious. It doesn’t feel right that I pass that man outside Sainsbury’s and not feel the chill to the bone that he must feel. It doesn’t feel right that the homeless have, in a way, become a part of the landscape in Cambridge: another piece of street-furniture to duck around. We must remind ourselves again and again and again – this is not right. This is not right.

Blame Brexit for Theresa the Appeaser

And then we vote. We demand better at the ballot box. These times make it difficult to feel optimistic, but I still have a firm belief in the power of good government to end social ills. And we must learn again to expect as much. Even if you have less faith than me, we must discard the tired cliché of ‘My vote doesn’t matter’, ‘Nothing will change’, ‘The government never solves any social ills’. It can. And when it doesn’t, that’s not the end.

There is, of course, a more direct appeal to be made. I’m sure among the readers of this paper, we will find the MPs, newspaper editors, civil servants, lawyers – maybe even a prime minister – of the future. If you felt singed by the burning of that £20, carry those burns with you. Never allow them to heal until we can make an impact. Don’t let the note-burner be our martyr