Commerce and tolerance: A lesson from Gothdom

This weekend we were in Goathshead, just outside Whitby, for a wedding.

Whitby is a great place. It's a beautiful harbour town in Yorkshire, full of ice cream stands and fish and chips shops. But it's not all sweetness, not by any means.

Have you ever read Dracula? Remember that bit where the boat sails into harbour and all the crew are dead? And a huge black dog (Dracula) leaps from the boat, and runs off up the cliffside to the ruined abbey looming above? That's Whitby. Bram Stoker wrote the whole book there. Which makes sleepy, pleasant Whitby a mecca for Goths.

There are goths everywhere, and goth-oriented shops on every corner. It's bizarre, and fascinating - how does this quiet little town feel about being colonised by these strange people with their eye-liner and Wiccan tendencies and big stompy boots?

A lady in a jewellery shop gave some insights. Apparently, the town gets along with the goths quite well. 'We do have some people who make trouble,' she said. 'But they're outsiders. Not Whitby people. Whitby people wouldn't do that.'

The goths have events, Bazaars, and festivals all year round. There is even - no joke - an annual football match, where the goths play the staff of the Whitby Gazette. The goths are good for business, too - usually they come into the jewellery shop looking for jet (no surprise there).

The worst problem she sees facing the goths? Weather. 'It is a shame when it rains - they do take ever so much care with their hair and makeup, you know.'

All this makes me think of the incredible power of contact. Put two people - or two groups of people - into contact, and they're almost invariably going to come to the conclusion that the other group are just people. That's because most people are just people.

One of the oldest and simplest forms of contact between different groups is trade. This is not a question of one person being falsely nice to another person from a group they don't like in order to take their money (although that does happen). It's more that it's almost impossible to define someone by their membership of a group when you're actually talking to them. And when trading, you have to talk.

'How much is that?'

'Ten pounds.'

'It's nice, isn't it?'

'Yes, I think so.'

Or:

'Can I have a serve of fish and chips and a tango please?'

'Sure.'

It might not seem like much, but cumulatively, little transactions like those can erode barriers between groups that would not otherwise come into contact at all. I like to think Whitby is a bit like that - a place where people who on the surface have little in common have had enough contact, at least part of it through trade, that everyone has basically become accustomed to everyone else. Like I said before, Whitby is a great place.

After I'd bought myself some nice jet earrings, we went back to Goathshead to see Kirsty and Sally get married. It was a beautiful wedding, and the staff at the hotel where the whole thing was held were just terrific.