The same faultlines seemed to glow as Brexit simmered beneath the crust of British politics in 2015 and 2016, and the volcanic shock of the referendum unleashed a slew of cruel neologisms - some pre- and some post-referendum result - that helped us articulate what was going on: gammons, boomers, Remoaners, traitors, enemies of the people.
First we felt our intelligence and integrity threatened. Then we seemed to reach a boiling point which saw us pitched into a near-permanent state of anxiety-driven mutual loathing between factions defined, not wholly but usually as culture wars, by both left and right. The Momentum "takeover" of Labour and the "cult" of Corbynism was another facet in this dull jewel. The increasing hysteria between pro- and anti-trans rights activism groups is another. Twitter itself has whirled around uselessly in the eye of the maelstrom, although recent decisions have seemed to confirm that it is wanting to right itself in a way that Facebook cannot.
Today, we have an article by the wonderfully verbose Will Self, surely a sleeper agent in some sort of guerrilla marketing campaign by Roget's Thesaurus, but still producing thought provoking and mature assessments of the landscape that surrounds us - or at least those of us who still insist on crawling through the scarred battlefield of British public life at the start of what we thought were going to be the new roaring Twenties (sardonic laugh).
Self's article correctly roots the "culture wars" of today in the outworking of the attitudes that have plagued our public life forever - the arrogance of self-delusion (or vice versa) which has been a prerequisite, it seems, to most political or cultural power in this country. But he makes one point which should be elaborated upon: as it seems to me, it is the key to a way out. Best read to yourself in Self's hangdog voice, it reads: "neither party is capable of envisioning a viable future".
There's the rub. None of the sides, parties, groups, angles, factions, movements that fuel these culture wars, if that's what they are, are about a coherent future. The exception is #BlackLivesMatter, which is more of a global cry than a movement and has long, deep roots in every direction. Other than that, they're all principally about rightness. We lack any sense of direction; we just have criticism. The past is either right or wrong, but none of that gives anybody a programme for all our future. The causes are no doubt just, but they seem to offer no guidelines for ourselves and our children in building a country that aspires to be better for everyone, or even most - whatever better might look like. We no longer seek to instruct or guide those who come after us; we just want to end the resentment we feel against those who came before or are with us now. We want our interests protected, and to hell with yours.
So if we are to find an exit, it's not through any door offered to us by the protagonists of our culture wars. We're stuck on a neverending ghost train in a fairground where everybody's arguing. We didn't know where the exit was, we just presumed there was one. But it turns out that there isn't, and everybody else on the train is now screaming about why they think that's everybody else's fault.
So is Self right? Yes. Nobody is proposing a viable future, or even an aspirational one. But is that the full story? No. Times change. Nothing lasts forever (though it has, and will be, repeated). But as long as we're on this train, the problem of no exit will remain.
We need to start making the case not for one view or another, but for a changed approach to difference. We need to learn again what toleration has meant in this country, We've been torn apart before, but we've muddled through, and we need to show that muddling through is actually a constructive, creative act of reconciliation and patience, not a failure. When the loudest voices silence their critics, they haven't won. Everybody's lost. Stridency is not success.
The deathly centre ground that Self describes deserves its fate if those who seek to sustain it want it to be a kind of intellectual zone of compromise for everybody. If you buy into that you're just presenting yourself as fodder for the next time somebody starts screeching uncharitably about something you happen to agree with (or, more likely, disagree with).
Moderation is not necessarily about moderating our views, although that may well be the natural consequence - may be, but by definition cannot always be. Compromise can still be a dirty word. Moderation is not about diluting your beliefs. It is about how you treat others' beliefs. Yes, it's difficult when that means you have to move into the space of making public policy to achieve things, and you can't always work out what that should mean in practice. But the sign of proper moderation is that this can be done respectfully, that I can feel your pain and you can understand my discomfort; that we agree we want something done but that the way to doing it is to find the right way forward, not to dig in until you throw in the towel and submit to being dragged behind my aggressively-revving vehicle.
Obama knew this. Blair, to some extent, espoused it, although so did John Major and the old-school Conservative party before the great right-wing hijack of the 2000s. Today, we are led by power-seekers who have no need for moderation, because they know that vision is not the instant gratification that people seek. You don't share power, but you can afford to spread a sense of rightness and self-righteousness around because that way you build your coalition of the bitter. The system we have now means that this approach can work, and because Dominic Cummings realises it he can present himself as a maverick genius.
When a consensus finally starts to build that those who fuel these "culture wars" are like the generals who fear scrutiny above all lest their empires start to fray; when we begin to reevaluate whether our righteousness is more important to us than our humanity; when we begin to consider the future, only then will the lights go on, the fake ghosts stop screaming at us, and the emergency exit out of all this be flung open. Roll on the day.