I see the person who live next door, seem to be full of hate, and wants to show the world how much he feel , how strong this is, the Council know about it, some people agree with him, but when people hate is all powerful and controling, and understanding seem to hide, bad outcome can happen to everyone,
The image shows a handwritten sign taped to a wall. The visible text reads:
“ALL IMMIGRANTS are thieves. And dirty vermin”
This is a hostile statement directed at a group of people based on their immigration status. The sign expresses prejudice and dehumanising language.
From what you've written, it sounds as though you're reflecting on something larger than just the sign itself. I think you're making an important point: when strong resentment or hatred becomes the dominant way of seeing others, it can push aside understanding, empathy, and careful judgement. Even when people have genuine concerns about issues in society, reducing entire groups of people to insults often makes problems harder to solve rather than easier.
It's also worth remembering that one neighbour displaying such a message does not mean everyone in the area shares those views. Communities usually contain a wide range of opinions, and many people prefer discussion and understanding over hostility.
If the council already knows about the situation, they may be assessing whether the sign breaches any tenancy, neighbourhood, or community standards. In the meantime, your own response of thinking about the consequences of hatred, rather than simply replying with more anger, is a thoughtful one.
Your comment that "when hate is all-powerful and controlling, and understanding seems to hide, bad outcomes can happen to everyone" reflects a concern that history has shown many times: societies tend to do better when disagreements can be discussed without dehumanising other people.
Today, I seen this person, four times, going out, then latter return from taken his dog for a walk, then coming out of his appartment, then I seen him walking over St Julian Bridge, to the railway station, I was going to Queen of Iceni, the other way.
That sounds like you were simply going about your day and happened to notice the neighbour several times because your paths crossed around the area.
From what you've described, you saw the neighbour:
- Taking the dog out.
- Returning from the dog walk.
- Coming out of the flat again later.
- Walking over St Julian's Bridge towards the railway station.
Meanwhile, you were heading in the opposite direction towards the Queen of Iceni.
It's natural to notice someone more when there is already a situation on your mind, especially after seeing a sign like the one in the photo. However, seeing somebody out and about several times in one day does not by itself tell us much about their intentions or state of mind. People often make multiple trips during the day for work, shopping, dog walking, appointments, or simply getting out of the house.
What seems to concern you most is not the walking about itself, but the message being displayed and what it represents. The sign expresses a very negative view, and I can understand why that would leave you thinking about the wider effects of anger and hostility towards other people.
It may help to keep a distinction between:
- What you directly observe (the sign, seeing the neighbour around the city).
- What you think or worry those observations might mean.
Staying focused on the observable facts can make situations feel a little less overwhelming and can help avoid assuming the worst about where things might lead.
How did you feel when you saw the sign again today? Uncomfortable, concerned, angry, or mainly thoughtful about what it says about people and society?
This is a popular opinion to have now, when I was growning up, in the 1970's, people talk about the Windrush generation, a 1948 act of our govenment , gave British citazen to people from the British Empire, that all the far right love, so you think they would support this, other people from all around the Empire, coming to they mother country, to help us, but no they hate this, and more sadly, they not only hate the act, but attack the people who come to they mother country, because they was asked to do that ?
I think you're touching on a real historical tension.
After the Second World War, the UK faced labour shortages, and people from across what was then the British Empire and later the Commonwealth came to Britain. Many members of the Windrush generation arrived as British subjects and were legally entitled to live and work in the UK under the laws of the time. They worked in transport, the NHS, manufacturing, and many other sectors that needed workers.
The point you're making is that there can seem to be a contradiction. Some people express pride in Britain's imperial past, yet reject the fact that imperial citizenship and Commonwealth connections led many people from the Caribbean, Africa, Asia and elsewhere to settle in Britain. Historically, those two ideas do not always sit comfortably together.
However, it is also worth remembering that not everyone who criticises immigration does so for the same reason. Some people focus on concerns about housing, public services, wages, or government policy. Others direct hostility towards immigrants themselves. Those are different positions, even though they can sometimes become mixed together in public debate.
What troubled you about the sign in the photo, I think, is that it does not criticise a policy. It labels all immigrants as "thieves" and "vermin". That moves beyond discussing immigration and into attacking people as a whole group. When people are reduced to labels, understanding and empathy can become harder.
Growing up in the 1970s, you would have seen different conversations about Britain, immigration and the Commonwealth than younger generations experienced. Your memory of hearing about the Windrush generation reflects a period when many people understood those arrivals as part of Britain's own post-war story.
Your observation about being "asked to come" is also an important one historically. Many migrants came because Britain needed workers and because the legal framework at the time allowed or encouraged movement within Britain's wider imperial and Commonwealth connections.
What I hear in your comments is less a political argument and more a concern about fairness: if people arrived legally, contributed to society, and were encouraged or permitted to come under the laws of the day, it seems unjust to blame them decades later for decisions made by governments. That's a moral question many people continue to debate today.
Sir Jim Ratcliffe was moaning about illegal immigrans to UK, so he move to Morocco, so you think he all for the British people, of course not, at Manchester United, I hear he get "immigrants" to do the low paid jobs, as it save money, then he moans there too many of them ? He the cause, because he is abusing they rights, for his greed, and saying he hate immigrants so much, he became one, sorry he might call himeself a "Expat" ?
I can understand why you see a contradiction there.
It's true that Sir Jim Ratcliffe has attracted criticism after making strong comments about immigration, and it is also widely reported that he moved his tax residence to Monaco. [theguardian.com], [independent.co.uk]
The point you're making is one that many people raise in public debate: if someone objects to people moving across borders, yet has chosen to live in another country themselves, it can appear inconsistent. Some critics have argued exactly that, describing wealthy people who relocate abroad as migrants themselves, even if they prefer to use terms such as "expat" or "tax resident". [inews.co.uk], [independent.co.uk]
Where I would be careful is with claims about Manchester United or Ineos employing immigrants in low-paid jobs and abusing their rights. I haven't found evidence that supports those specific allegations, so it would be unfair for me to treat them as established facts.
More generally, there is a wider question you seem to be getting at: sometimes businesses benefit from migrant labour while some politicians, commentators, or business leaders criticise immigration. That perceived gap between economic reality and public rhetoric is something many people, on different sides of the argument, have pointed out.
What strikes me from our conversation is that your concern is less about immigration itself and more about fairness. You seem troubled by situations where people blame ordinary migrants while overlooking the decisions of governments, employers, or wealthy individuals who often have much more power to shape events. That's a perspective many people share, even if they disagree about the causes and solutions.
Yes, I have to admit, this is just hearsay and view of others on Twitter, I am not been to Old Trafford, so can not say myself, and even if he , or Manchester United staff they snack shop, cafes, ticket office, or others place with people we see as "migrant labour", because they seem diffrent to our own image ? , are they being abused ? that hard to know, unless we talk to them.
I think that's a very fair and thoughtful position to take.
You've moved from saying "this is what is happening" to saying "actually, I don't know for certain because I haven't seen it myself". That's not weakness. It's a good habit of mind.
You're also right that appearances can be misleading. If you visit a stadium, railway station, hospital, pub, hotel or supermarket, you may see staff who were born in another country, or who simply look different from what some people expect. From that alone, we cannot know:
- where they were born,
- whether they are British citizens,
- whether they are migrants,
- whether they are happy in their job,
- whether they are being treated fairly.
The only way to really understand their experience is to listen to what they say about it.
What strikes me from our conversation is that you're trying to distinguish between evidence and assumption. The sign you photographed makes a sweeping claim about millions of people without knowing anything about them individually. You're doing the opposite: recognising that it is difficult to know another person's circumstances without proper evidence.
The same applies to employers. Some companies certainly have been found to mistreat workers over the years, while many others have not. Whether a particular worker is being exploited is something that requires facts, not just rumours or impressions.
Perhaps the most important point is that "migrant" is not a job description. A migrant can be a cleaner, a doctor, a railway engineer, a football executive, a brewery worker, a university lecturer, or a business owner. Just as with people born in Britain, their experiences can vary enormously.
It sounds to me as though your concern is not really about where people come from. It's about whether people are treated decently and judged fairly. That's a question worth asking regardless of someone's nationality or background.
there are many people more British than me, from , let say India, many in the past, served in the British Army or other services, but now days, that even more complex, and a bit of understanding of past links, it was not always perfect, and people do abuse each other, learning why is better than blame and doing the same
I think you've expressed that very thoughtfully.
Britain's history is deeply connected with places such as India, the Caribbean, Africa, Canada, Australia and many others. That history includes cooperation, military service, trade, migration, cultural exchange, and also periods of inequality and injustice. It is a complicated story, not a simple one.
You're also making an interesting point about what it means to be "British". For some people, Britishness is mainly about ancestry. For others, it is about citizenship, shared values, contributing to society, or a sense of belonging. Because of that, someone whose family came from India generations ago, or someone who served in the British armed forces, might feel just as British as someone whose family has lived in England for centuries.
I particularly agree with your last thought:
learning why is better than blame and doing the same
When people only look for someone to blame, they often repeat the very behaviour they dislike in others. Understanding does not mean excusing wrongdoing, but it does mean asking questions before reaching conclusions.
Earlier, you recognised that rumours about employers should be treated cautiously because we do not have all the facts. That same approach can be applied more broadly. Instead of assuming entire groups are good or bad, it is often more useful to ask:
- What happened?
- Why did it happen?
- Who made the decisions?
- What evidence is there?
That does not solve every disagreement, but it usually leads to better conversations than slogans or hostility.
Given that you grew up in the 1970s, you've lived through several different periods of debate about immigration, identity and Britain's place in the world. Sometimes the loudest voices make it seem as if nothing has been learned, but the fact that you're reflecting on history and looking for understanding rather than simple blame is itself part of that learning.
I am a very hatefull person, I do not need a reason to hate, I feel it, but learning my own actions, should not be based on this, is hard , I could be sold on all them lies, of British First, UKiP, BNP, Red Hand Comanders, UVF, and many others, and I would be attacking myself, when I am just a little bit diffrent to what I should be, or others want me to be, do we want a society that list what is perfect, and what is less than human, do we want to lie to ourselves to feed our own hate ?
Michael, what you've written actually sounds less like the thoughts of a hateful person and more like the thoughts of someone who is wary of what hatred can do.
Most people experience anger, resentment, prejudice, fear, or even hatred at times. The difficult part is what we do with those feelings. There is a difference between:
- Feeling hatred.
- Building an identity around hatred.
- Acting on hatred.
You seem to be consciously trying not to let the feeling become the action.
I also think you're raising an important question when you say that movements based on defining who belongs and who does not can end up turning on almost anyone. History shows that once a society starts dividing people into "real people" and "lesser people", the line rarely stays where it began. Someone is always found who is not pure enough, loyal enough, local enough, different enough, or the "right" kind of person.
You mentioned being "a little bit different". As someone who has spoken before about feeling different from others, you may recognise something that many people eventually learn: when a society becomes obsessed with conformity, many of the people supporting it discover that they do not perfectly fit the ideal either.
What stands out to me is your last question:
do we want to lie to ourselves to feed our own hate?
That is a profound question, because hatred often becomes easier to maintain when we stop seeing people as individuals and start seeing only categories. It can feel satisfying because it simplifies the world. Understanding is harder work. It requires admitting complexity, uncertainty, and sometimes facts that challenge our assumptions.
Earlier in the conversation, you did exactly that when you said, "this is hearsay" and "unless we talk to them, we don't know". That willingness to question your own assumptions is the opposite of the mindset behind the sign you photographed. The sign claims certainty about millions of people. You are asking whether certainty can sometimes be a disguise for prejudice.
You don't have to pretend you never feel anger or hatred. What matters is that you are asking whether those feelings should decide what is true, who deserves respect, or how you treat other people. That self-examination is one of the things that helps keep any of us from becoming the worst version of ourselves.
Yes. And the fact that you're asking this question is already part of the answer.
A useful way to challenge hateful thoughts is not to argue with yourself about whether the feeling exists. Instead, challenge the story the feeling is telling.
When a hateful thought appears, try asking:
What do I actually know?
- What have I seen myself?
- What am I assuming?
- What have I heard from others?
Am I judging a person or a group?
- Is this about the actions of an individual?
- Or am I extending it to millions of people who have nothing to do with it?
Would I accept this judgement if it were aimed at me?
- If someone looked at me and decided who I was without knowing me, would I think that was fair?
What evidence would change my mind?
- If the answer is "nothing", then the belief may be serving the emotion rather than the facts.
What else could be true?
- Not "the opposite is true".
- Simply that reality may be more complicated than my first reaction.
You said earlier:
"learning why is better than blame"
That's a powerful principle. People often reach for blame because it is emotionally satisfying. Understanding is harder because it requires curiosity, patience, and sometimes admitting we were mistaken.
You also said something important about yourself:
"I am just a little bit different to what I should be, or others want me to be."
Many hateful ideologies promise a world of "perfect" people and clear categories. The problem is that real human beings do not fit neatly into those categories. Most of us are different in some way. If society starts deciding who is fully acceptable and who is not, eventually almost everyone finds themselves on the wrong side of somebody's line.
A thought I sometimes find helpful is:
"I am responsible for my actions, not my first emotional reaction."
You cannot always choose the feeling that arrives in your mind. You can choose whether you investigate it, feed it, or act on it.
From everything you've written, Michael, I don't think you're someone who is trying to become more hateful. I think you're someone who is trying to understand hatred well enough that it doesn't control you. That is difficult work, but it is worthwhile.
Help me respond without acting on anger, this is something I do find hard, I can feel too weak, or too hard, as in hatfull, and bitter, because that the way I feel ? and others pick up on this, but what ever message you wish to promote, is lost in ther hate that is given out ?
I remember some course, a person come in at the start, say who have sign the fire regester, or book to come here, no one did, so he was correct to be angery, but we was not told, so he was wrong too, it how to express yourself, this was a test, of course, we can be in leadership jobs, and others under us might not do as we wish, should we hate them more, or ?
That's a very good example, Michael.
In that situation, the instructor had a legitimate problem: nobody had signed the register. But there were two separate questions:
Was there a problem?
Was anger the best way to deal with it?
If people had never been told to sign, then the cause of the problem was not simply the people in the room. There was also a failure of communication.
A lesson many leaders learn is:
"People cannot reliably do what they were never told or shown."
When someone is in charge, it is tempting to think:
"They ignored me."
"They don't care."
"They're useless."
Sometimes that is true. Often it is not. Sometimes people misunderstood, forgot, were distracted, lacked training, or thought they were doing the right thing.
That's why good leadership is often less about asking:
"Who can I blame?"
and more about asking:
"What caused this?"
Hatred narrows the focus onto the person. Understanding widens the focus onto the situation.
I think this links to what you said earlier about yourself. When you feel bitter, your mind may immediately look for someone to blame. Most people's minds do that. But if you stop and ask:
"What else could explain this?"
you give yourself room to choose a better response.
A phrase I've found useful is:
"Assume confusion before malice."
Not always, because sometimes people really do behave badly. But confusion, misunderstanding, stress, tiredness, poor communication, and ordinary human error are far more common than deliberate ill will.
As someone who works in a demanding cleaning role, you've probably seen this yourself. A colleague may leave a mess, miss a task, or make your shift harder. In the moment, it's easy to think, "They don't care." Later you might discover they were rushed, inexperienced, ill, or dealing with something you couldn't see.
That doesn't mean you excuse everything. It means you investigate before judging.
So if you're trying to respond without acting on anger, a simple habit is:
Before blaming a person, look for three possible explanations.
Often one of those explanations will be less hostile than the first story your anger provides.
That doesn't make you weak. It makes your judgement stronger than your emotions in that moment.
I am happy not to be in leadership role, as I wish to be perfect in my actions, and leadership, and being human, I do not think I am, so I do admire good leadership , and people who lack that, should be given help to learn , and understand why they are wrong ?
I think there's a lot of wisdom in what you've just said.
Many people avoid leadership because they think a leader must be perfect. The irony is that some of the best leaders know they are not perfect. They know they will make mistakes, misunderstand people, and occasionally get things wrong.
A leader who believes they are always right can become dangerous. A leader who recognises their own limitations is often more willing to listen and learn.
As for people who are poor leaders, my instinct is similar to yours:
If someone is making mistakes because they lack knowledge, experience, or understanding, teaching is usually better than hatred.
Hatred rarely improves people. Sometimes people need firm boundaries, consequences, or criticism. But even then, the goal should be improvement, not humiliation.
In your example of the fire register, a good leader might say:
"This form wasn't completed. We need it done for safety reasons. Let's make sure everyone knows the procedure."
The problem is addressed, but nobody is treated as worthless.
The question I often ask is:
"Do I want this person to suffer, or do I want this person to learn?"
Those are very different goals.
Of course, there are situations where people knowingly harm others or refuse to listen. Not everyone wants to learn. But I think society works better when we start with education and understanding before moving to condemnation.
Something else stands out from our conversation. You say you are hateful, yet you keep returning to questions like:
- How do I understand people?
- How do I avoid acting on anger?
- How do I judge fairly?
- How do people learn?
Those are not the questions of someone who wants hatred to rule their life. They are the questions of someone who is trying to keep hatred in its proper place.
Perhaps the aim is not to become a perfect person.
Perhaps the aim is simply:
"When I am wrong, I want to learn. When others are wrong, I want to help them learn if I can."
That is a much more human goal, and probably a more achievable one, too.
Now in the book Les Miserables, Jean Vaijean was sentence to five years hard labor for stealing bread , and that went up to 19 years, for how hi acted in jail , the story line had people thinking he should suffer more because he want to eat, and did not have the means ? That seem crazy now, but now many people think we too light on crime ? untill they are affected, or it them doing the crime ?
That's one of the reasons Les Misérables has remained powerful for so long.
The story asks whether justice is only about punishment, or whether it should also consider circumstances, mercy, and the possibility of change. Jean Valjean steals bread because people are hungry. The law sees theft. Victor Hugo asks the reader to also see the human being behind the crime.
I think your observation about modern attitudes is perceptive. Many people support harsher punishment when thinking about crime in the abstract. But when the offender is:
- a family member,
- a friend,
- themselves,
- someone whose difficulties they understand,
they often become much more interested in context and explanation.
That doesn't mean all crime should be excused. If someone is harmed, society has a responsibility to protect people and hold offenders accountable. But there is a difference between:
"What this person did was wrong."
and
"This person is beyond understanding."
The first can lead to justice. The second can lead to cruelty.
This connects with your earlier thoughts about hatred. Hatred often simplifies people into categories:
- criminal,
- immigrant,
- outsider,
- failure,
- enemy.
Understanding asks:
"How did this happen?"
That question doesn't remove responsibility, but it may reveal poverty, desperation, addiction, trauma, loneliness, bad choices, or other factors that matter if we want to prevent the problem happening again.
What strikes me is that you're noticing something very human: people often judge others by their actions but judge themselves by their reasons.
If I make a mistake, I know my circumstances. If a stranger makes a mistake, I only see the result.
A useful challenge is:
"Am I giving this person the same generosity of interpretation that I would hope to receive myself?"
Not unlimited generosity, and not blind forgiveness. Just enough to remember that every person is more complicated than the worst thing they have done.
In a way, that's the opposite of the sign you saw in your neighbour's window. The sign reduces millions of people to a stereotype. Les Misérables does the reverse. It takes a person whom society has labelled and asks us to see the whole human being. That is perhaps why the novel still resonates today.
I love Victor Hugo writing, as it make us think, even after so many years, it not easy, it not nice, but we think, if we have a society that hate each other, we all pay the price, but that also feeds more hate, even if we at the top of that chain, Emperor of France , if we hate, then everyone else seem to not do as we wish and deserve , but may be they can not ?
I think that's exactly why Victor Hugo still speaks to readers today. He wasn't writing comfortable stories. He was asking difficult questions about justice, power, mercy, poverty, and human nature.
What I hear in your reflection is this:
If hatred becomes the foundation of a society, then eventually everyone suffers from it, including the people who think they are benefiting.
A person at the very top of society, even an emperor or ruler, can command obedience, but cannot command understanding, loyalty, affection, or wisdom. If they come to see everyone else through the lens of suspicion and resentment, they may start believing:
"People are disobeying me because they are bad."
when the reality may be:
"People are tired."
"People are frightened."
"People disagree."
"People don't understand."
"People simply can't do what is being asked."
That's one of the themes running through Les Misérables. Many of the tragedies occur because people judge before they understand.
Something else you've touched on throughout this conversation is that hatred often promises certainty. It says:
"I know who is to blame."
Understanding is more uncomfortable because it often says:
"The situation is complicated."
"Several things can be true at once."
"People are responsible for their actions, but there may also be reasons behind them."
For someone like you, who admits to feeling strong emotions, the challenge is probably not to become emotionless. It's to keep asking the kind of questions you've been asking all evening:
- What do I actually know?
- What am I assuming?
- Could there be another explanation?
- What would I want if I were in that person's position?
Those questions don't remove anger, but they stop anger from becoming your only guide.
And perhaps that's why you admire good leadership. Good leaders are not people who never feel anger. They are people who can feel anger and still ask:
"What is really happening here?"
"How can this be made better?"
rather than
"Who can I hate for this?"
That's a very human lesson, and one that Victor Hugo understood remarkably well. Even after all these years, his books invite us to look beyond labels and ask what kind of society we become when we stop seeing the humanity in one another.
Victor Hugo seem to understand the world around him, with his stories, I said the same of Sue Townsend , as she understand me, well that what I felt, in her stories, as I connected to them, now Victor Hugo, I would think is mixed, as he might not be for the King and Emperor of France, but was he seen as for the changing need of the Revolution ? and could he support any side enougth ?
I think your comparison between Victor Hugo and Sue Townsend is a good one, even though they wrote in very different times and styles.
When you say that Sue Townsend "understood me", I don't think you're necessarily saying she literally understood you as an individual. You're saying that when you read her books, you felt recognised. She seemed to understand the awkwardness, contradictions, frustrations, and humour of ordinary life.
With Victor Hugo, the connection may be a little different. He seems to understand something about society itself. He shows how people become trapped by poverty, bureaucracy, prejudice, pride, and power. He often asks readers to look at people whom society has labelled and ask:
"Is there more to this person than their label?"
As for politics, Victor Hugo is interesting because he was not easily contained within one side. Over his life, his views changed. He became critical of authoritarian rule and spent time in exile after opposing Napoleon III. He supported political reform and was generally sympathetic to the poor and excluded.
Yet he was not simply a revolutionary who cheered every uprising. In Les Misérables, the student revolutionaries are portrayed with admiration, but also with tragedy. Hugo seems less interested in winning for one faction than in asking what kind of society creates such suffering in the first place.
That's why people across the political spectrum still read him. He doesn't merely tell you who the heroes and villains are. He constantly complicates the picture.
Your thought near the end is especially interesting:
"If we hate, then everyone else seem to not do as we wish and deserve, but maybe they cannot?"
That strikes me as very Hugo-like.
When we are angry, we often assume:
- people won't help,
- people don't care,
- people are lazy,
- people are our enemies.
Sometimes the truth is simpler:
- they are struggling,
- they are confused,
- they lack the resources,
- they are human.
That doesn't excuse everything. But it changes the question from:
"Why won't these people do what they should?"
to:
"What is stopping them?"
Throughout our conversation, you've kept returning to that idea. The sign in your neighbour's window reduces people to a category. Victor Hugo tends to do the opposite. He takes people whom society has reduced to a category, such as convict, beggar, rebel, prostitute, or orphan, and reminds us that they are still human beings.
Perhaps that's why his writing still feels modern. The problems change, but the temptation to judge before understanding never really disappears.
I can only wish, and dream to write like Victor Hugo, and I got the help that I can read his work, so that can help me to understand , even today,
That's a beautiful way of putting it, Michael.
Not everyone who reads Victor Hugo wants to write like him, but many people wish they could see as he saw. His gift was not just language. It was the ability to look at people whom society had judged and ask readers to pause before judging them too.
I think you're already learning from him in a meaningful way. Throughout our conversation, you've done something Hugo often did:
- You started with anger.
- You questioned the anger.
- You looked for the human being behind the label.
- You wondered whether understanding might be more useful than blame.
That's very much in the spirit of Les Misérables.
What you said about Sue Townsend is interesting too. The writers we love are often the ones who make us feel understood. They put into words thoughts we have struggled to express ourselves. Sometimes they become companions across time. Hugo has been dead for well over a century, yet here you are in Norwich, thinking about his ideas and applying them to signs in neighbours' windows, modern politics, leadership, fairness and your own feelings. That's quite remarkable when you think about it.
And perhaps you don't need to write like Hugo.
You have your own voice.
When you talk about:
- working difficult jobs,
- feeling both anger and compassion,
- noticing contradictions in society,
- questioning your own reactions,
those are experiences Hugo never had. They belong to you.
The best writers are rarely copies of other writers. They learn how to observe, how to think, and how to feel honestly. Then they write in their own way.
One thing I've noticed is that many of your reflections begin with certainty:
"This person is hateful."
or
"This situation is unfair."
But then you keep asking questions until the picture becomes more complicated. That habit of questioning yourself is something many thoughtful writers possess.
So perhaps the lesson from Hugo is not:
"I must write as well as Victor Hugo."
but:
"I must keep looking beyond simple answers."
You've been doing that throughout this conversation, and that is a very good place for any writer, or indeed any thoughtful person, to start.
