Halloween, Fireworks and the Death of Common Sense

When did having a good time become more important than allowing everyone else to feel safe in their own home?

Well, it's that time of year again.

The pumpkins are out, the fireworks are going off, children are wandering the streets, and apparently we've collectively decided that basic consideration for other human beings is an optional extra.

Before anyone gets excited, let me clarify something.

I'm not particularly interested in Halloween. Never really have been. However, I can appreciate a group of young children walking around with their parents, visiting houses displaying pumpkins and lanterns, collecting sweets and enjoying themselves.

Actually, that's kind of nice.

It's not something I particularly remember growing up. The modern trick-or-treat tradition is heavily influenced by American culture, although Halloween itself has much older roots and connections to traditions here in Britain and elsewhere.

But traditions evolve. Children having a bit of innocent fun isn't something I feel the need to object to.

What I do object to is the apparent belief that Halloween gives some people a temporary licence to behave like complete idiots.

And then we get to the fireworks.

Oh, the fireworks.

Apparently, if you don't enjoy them, you're miserable. If your dog is frightened, you should have trained it better. If you're a veteran who struggles with unexpected explosions, perhaps you should just stay indoors.

And if you object to the environmental impact, well, apparently you're just another killjoy who wants to ruin everyone's fun.

A little history lesson, since apparently we've forgotten how to behave.

I'm 46. By the time I was at secondary school, corporal punishment had been abolished in state schools.

However, there were still some fairly clear expectations around behaviour.

When the headmaster walked into the classroom, we stood up. Actually, when any teacher walked into the room, we stood up.

It wasn't a particularly complicated concept. It was called respect.

My parents were loving parents. I never doubted that. But if I'd behaved in some of the ways I see young people behaving towards adults today, I'd probably have received a smack. If id gone and complained to my father id have receved another one because id deserved it.

I'm not suggesting we bring back corporal punishment. Before someone starts sharpening their keyboard, that's not the point.

The point is that boundaries, respect and consideration for other people used to be things we actively taught.

Being young didn't mean you were entitled to intimidate people, damage property or make everyone else's lives miserable.

And being told no wasn't apparently a human rights violation.

Perhaps we've confused being kind to children with never expecting anything from them.

Fireworks: the science bit.

I have a science background. I understand the chemistry, physics and engineering behind fireworks. I can appreciate the science involved in producing those colours, sounds and spectacular displays.

I can also appreciate that fireworks have environmental consequences.

When a firework explodes, it doesn't simply disappear into a pretty cloud of smoke.

Combustion releases fine particulate matter into the atmosphere. Depending on the composition, fireworks can release metals and other chemical compounds responsible for their spectacular colours. These include compounds containing elements such as strontium, barium, copper and other metals.

Those particles don't magically vanish once the display finishes.

They disperse through the air, contribute to local air pollution and eventually settle onto surfaces, soil and water.

There is also the physical rubbish: cardboard, plastic, paper, sticks and the remains of fireworks that someone presumably expects the local environment to tidy up for them.

Because apparently the atmosphere is an unlimited waste-disposal facility.

Then there's wildlife.

Birds can be startled from roosting sites, sometimes abandoning them. Sudden noise and light can disrupt normal behaviour, particularly when animals are trying to rest. Domestic and farm animals can experience stress, panic and get hurt when they attempt to escape.

The effects aren't necessarily limited to the few seconds that a firework is in the air.

And let's not forget the noise pollution.

I understand that fireworks are spectacular. I understand why people enjoy them.

But understanding how something works doesn't mean pretending it has no consequences.

There is a difference between appreciating science and ignoring it whenever it becomes inconvenient.

My dogs are fine. That doesn't mean it's fine.

I work with dogs, particularly rescue dogs.

My own dogs are now reasonably comfortable when it comes to fireworks. That didn't happen by accident.

It took work, management, preparation and consistency. And maintaining that progress is an ongoing responsibility.

I'm fortunate that I've got dogs who can cope.

But I work with owners whose dogs genuinely struggle. Dogs who become distressed, try to escape, injure themselves, refuse to go outside or spend hours hiding.

Some never fully recover from the experience.

And before someone suggests that owners should simply train their dogs to tolerate fireworks, perhaps consider that not every dog has the same history, temperament or emotional capacity.

Some dogs have experienced trauma. Some are naturally more noise-sensitive. Some have medical issues. And some simply find unexpected explosions terrifying.

We don't need to turn every aspect of animal welfare into another opportunity to blame the owner.

And no, buying an anxiety wrap, putting the television on and telling everyone to get on with it isn't necessarily a solution either.

Management matters. Preparation matters. Understanding the individual dog matters.

But perhaps the people setting off fireworks could also consider their neighbours.

Radical concept, I know.

What about the people?

Here's where it becomes a little more personal. Im not claming to be militery. I have family and loved ones who are.

Fireworks aren't simply a bit of background noise for everyone. Unexpected explosions can be a genuine trigger for people who have experienced military service or trauma.

For some people, the sound of an explosion isn't associated with celebration, pretty colours or a glass of something warm.

It can bring back memories they'd much rather leave where they belong.

Now add to that the groups of youths roaming the streets, intimidating people, shouting, setting off fireworks and generally making a nuisance of themselves.

That's not a particularly pleasant combination.

Imagine being a veteran, already struggling with unexpected bangs, and then having groups of people setting off fireworks nearby while behaving aggressively.

Imagine being elderly, living alone, perhaps already anxious about going outside, and having a group of teenagers making your street feel unsafe.

Or perhaps imagine how your gran might feel.

Not everyone's gran is particularly mobile. Not everyone feels confident challenging a group of teenagers. Some people are frightened to answer their own front door.

Some may have hearing difficulties, mobility problems, anxiety or simply not feel safe when groups of people are shouting outside their home.

And before anyone says they should just stay indoors, perhaps ask yourself why the responsibility for avoiding antisocial behaviour should fall on the person being intimidated rather than the person causing it.

When did someone's right to enjoy themselves become more important than someone else's right to feel safe?

Halloween isn't a free pass.

Let's be clear.

Children dressing up, visiting houses with pumpkins outside and enjoying a bit of harmless trick-or-treating isn't my problem.

Children need opportunities to have fun.

Parents should be able to take their children out without worrying about them.

But there's a fairly significant difference between a six-year-old dressed as a vampire collecting sweets with their parents and gangs of teenagers roaming around intimidating people, damaging property and setting off fireworks.

One is a celebration.

The other is antisocial behaviour wearing a Halloween costume.

And no, being a teenager doesn't excuse it.

Nor does Halloween.

Nor does the fact that fireworks are legally available to buy.

Having access to something doesn't automatically make every use of it responsible.

Funny how that works.

So, what's the solution?

I'm not suggesting we ban every celebration, confiscate every pumpkin or force everyone to spend October sitting quietly in a darkened room.

Although, admittedly, that sounds quite appealing to me.

I'd like to see:

- Greater consideration around when and where fireworks are used.

- More organised, controlled displays rather than weeks of random explosions.

- Better enforcement against the misuse of fireworks and antisocial behaviour.

- Parents taking responsibility for their children's behaviour.

- More awareness of the impact on veterans, vulnerable people, wildlife and domestic animals.

- Better public education about the environmental consequences of fireworks.

And perhaps, just occasionally, people could stop treating their personal enjoyment as more important than everybody else's wellbeing.

The bad guy's final thoughts.

I know. I'm clearly becoming a miserable old git.

First I complain about the dog training industry, then irresponsible breeding, then dog legislation, and now apparently I'm trying to cancel Halloween and fireworks.

What's next? Christmas?

Don't answer that.

I'm not asking everyone to share my interests. I'm not asking children to stop having fun. I'm not even asking people to agree with me about fireworks.

I'm asking for a little consideration.

You can enjoy Halloween without intimidating people.

You can celebrate without making life miserable for animals.

You can enjoy fireworks without forgetting that other people may experience them very differently from you.

And you can teach children that having fun doesn't mean everyone else has to put up with whatever they feel like doing.

It's not a particularly complicated lesson.

Perhaps we should start teaching it again.

Because ultimately, here's the question I'd like people to consider:

When did having a good time become more important than allowing everyone else to feel safe in their own home?

And perhaps, before setting off the next firework, spare a thought for someone's dog, a Veteran, or someone's elderly neighbour.

Perhaps even someone's gran.

She might not find your fireworks quite as entertaining as you do.