No surprise here, but people are turning off the news.

If you’re of a certain age and still look to legacy media for your window on the world, there really is only so much that you can take. Stir in the sense of helplessness that this torrent of unhappiness induces, and the retreat to the kinder worlds of music, drama and just plain old silence is entirely understandable.

It’s not for me to speak of the how the bite-size news consumers of other generations see the world, but if they decide to shrug their shoulders at the inferno they’re inheriting from portly, greying men and move on to other entertainments, who could possibly blame them?

Except that there are two ripostes to both reactions.

First, if those of us who have lived lives of peace and relative comfort are paralysed into silence and resigned inactivity by those who are intent on disrupting that civilised existence, then we truly deserve the curses of future generations.

And second, to write off those generations as supine, content-consuming media fodder is to do a disservice to young people who, as ever, live by ideas that are more progressive than those of their parents.

But the question is this: what can we actually do in the face of the bombardment of violence, repression and downright lies – so much of it sanctioned by national leaders and their cowed courtiers – that assault us on an hourly basis?

The first thing is to understand where all of this is coming from.

The malodorous guru of right-wing authoritarians, Steve Bannon, formulated the notion of flooding the zone with shit. In other words, throwing so many outlandish, half-baked and offensive ideas at the public, that the only logical response is to express shock and horror  before being distracted by the next announcement that may yet dwarf its predecessor in its assault on truth and decency.

The deliberate purpose of this onslaught is to inundate public discourse with so much of this excrement that before opposition can be voiced to one offensive announcement, the next one comes tumbling down the pan, hot on its steamy heels.

Drowning in shit, frozen into inaction. Like I say, just how they want us to be.

What to do? Take to the streets as tens of thousands do on a regular basis to voice anger over Gaza, climate change and racism?  Well, of course – but that’s not for everyone. These may be unprecedented times, but that’s a big first step for many.

Join a trade union and challenge your employer from everything from clean washrooms to equal pay? Naturally – and even though workers in the gig economy are doing so with increasing frequency, not an option open to all.

Protest, strikes and campaigns remain the heartbeat of effective opposition to the effects of the flood.   But if that’s not a feasible option for all, part of the answer lies closer to our homes, our relatives, our friends, neighbours and acquaintances.

We’ve all done it. Not disturbed the peace of a social occasion when talk of ‘illegal’ immigration crops up. Thought it best to maintain a dignified silence when someone spouts some deranged internet ‘theory’ – for which, of course, they’ve ‘done their research’. Stayed silently complicit at unkind ‘jokes’. Feigned deafness when the racist relative treats us to an absurd, sentimentalised picture of the past – the world that is, apparently, going to be made great again.

There’s a savage irony about the notion of free-speech. We’ve reached the point where right-wingers from Musk to Vance to Farage laughably present themselves as its champion, while simultaneously they work as hard as they can to close down the expression of ideas that challenge their measly view of the world. Not to mention their own self-enrichment as they purport to speak for those they despise.

So now is no time to stay silent. It might require some bravery, but speak out: at home, at work or on the street.

Because if you don’t do so now, there may come a time when it could be dangerous and illegal to do so.