The Scorpion and the Frog: Why England Must Stop Carrying the Sting

I’m an Englishman whose family has been in East London for at least 400 years.

Dockers. Labourers. Ordinary grafters who kept this country running long before most of today’s politicians’ families even set foot here.

Earlier today I read an article about “The Scorpion and the Frog” fable, and it hit me how perfectly it sums up what’s been happening to England for decades. Once I made that connection, I couldn’t unsee it – especially looking at what my own family has lived through in the East End.

Every few years, another scorpion in a suit climbs on England’s back and says, “Trust me. I won’t sting you this time.” And every time, we end up with the same result: more pressure, less control, and ordinary English people carrying the cost.

This isn’t a polite essay. It’s a hard‑hitting personal line in the sand from someone whose roots here go back centuries, who’s lived and worked around the world for 20+ years, and who’s had enough of being treated like a mug in his own country.

The Scorpion and the Frog – from a bloke who’s been stung

The story’s simple.

A scorpion wants to cross a river but can’t swim. It asks a frog for a lift. The frog says:

“Are you joking? You’ll sting me.”

The scorpion replies:

“Use your head. If I sting you, we both drown. Why would I do that?”

The frog thinks, “Fair point,” lets the scorpion on its back and starts swimming.

Halfway across, the scorpion stings the frog.

As they both start to drown, the frog gasps:

“Why did you do that?”

The scorpion shrugs:

“I couldn’t help it. It’s my nature.”

Now swap the characters:

• The frog is the English public – people like my family in the East End.
• The scorpion is the political and bureaucratic class – the people who run Parliament, the Home Office, policing and the rest.

Every election, they line up and say:

• “We’ll control immigration.”
• “We’ll fix the NHS.”
• “We’ll sort housing.”
• “We’re on your side.”

And every time, we end up stung:

• Higher migration without matching capacity.
• Longer NHS waits.
• More housing pressure.
• Less control over what happens in our own towns and cities.

At some point, you have to stop pretending the scorpion just “made a mistake” and admit: this is what it is.

1948: NHS, the British Nationality Act – and the start of the sting

People talk about 1948 like it was pure magic. From where my family was standing in East London, it was more complicated than that.

Two massive things happened that year:

• The NHS was born – free at the point of use.
• The British Nationality Act 1948 created “Citizens of the United Kingdom and Colonies”, giving millions across the Empire and Commonwealth the right to come and live here.

The sales pitch to people like my grandparents went something like:

• “We’re building a fair country for ordinary working people.”
• “We’ll clear the slums and build good, solid homes.”
• “Yes, we’ll welcome people from the Commonwealth – it’ll be controlled and positive for everyone.”

Some of that came from decent instincts. My grandparents weren’t cold or heartless. They’d lived through bombing and real poverty. They understood suffering.

But right there in 1948 you had a built‑in contradiction:

• A very wide legal door opened to millions.
• Huge promises made about healthcare, housing and services.
• No honest, long‑term plan to match rising numbers with enough hospitals, GP surgeries, social homes and school places.

While the big men talked in Parliament, my family saw what was happening on the ground:

• More demand for everything.
• Crowded estates.
• Waiting times creeping up.
• More people trying to use the same limited pool of services.

And whenever anyone questioned it, the answer from the top was basically:

“Don’t worry. It’s fine. We’ve got this.”

That was the first real sting after 1948. We were already halfway across the river, and most people didn’t realise it.

Four centuries in East London – watching England get squeezed

When I say my family’s been in East London for 400 years, that’s not a romantic history note. It’s a front‑row seat.

We remember:

• When dock work was brutal but honest, and you could build a life out of it.
• When council housing actually existed in serious numbers and wasn’t a fantasy.
• When getting a doctor’s appointment didn’t feel like trying to win concert tickets on the radio.
• When you could reasonably expect to live in the same area your parents and grandparents lived in.

Now look around:

• Rents are through the roof for tiny, tired flats.
• Social housing waiting lists might as well say “don’t bother.”
• GP surgeries have shut while the population has grown.
• NHS dentists have basically disappeared for normal people.

And at the same time, we’re told:

• “Migration is under control.”
• “We’ve put record money into the NHS.”
• “We’re building more homes than ever.”

From where my family is standing, it doesn’t feel like control. It feels like being squeezed out of our own country, drip by drip.

I’ve lived abroad for 20+ years – this is not about race

Before anyone reaches for the lazy labels, let me be clear.

I’ve spent over 20 years living and working overseas.

Different continents, different cultures, different religions. I’ve worked alongside people from everywhere, eaten at their tables, been welcomed into their homes. I know very well that good and bad come in every colour and creed.

In places like Oman, I couldn’t even get a basic work internet connection without a local “sponsor”. No sponsor, no connection. That’s how seriously they guard control and protect their own people’s position. Their attitude is simple: “You can work here, but you’re not running the show.”

That’s normal around the world.

So when I talk about England, this isn’t “I don’t like foreigners.” It’s:

• I don’t like being taken for granted in my own country.
• I don’t like a system that bends over backwards for everyone except the people who’ve built and sustained this place for generations.
• I don’t like being told it’s “extreme” to want the same basic protections for England that other countries treat as common sense.

Where I stand now: I support remigration – based on behaviour and loyalty

Because of everything I’ve seen – in East London and abroad – I’ve ended up in a place I’m not going to pretend about:

I support remigration in specific, clear cases.

Not because I dislike any race or creed. I don’t. I’ve met diamonds and idiots in every group.

I support remigration because a country has the right – and the duty – to decide who gets to stay, and on what terms.

Here’s how I see it:

1. Criminals

If you come here and commit serious crime, you should go back. Full stop.

If you’re not a citizen and you abuse this country’s hospitality by attacking, robbing or preying on people, why on earth should you keep the right to live here?

My family didn’t spend centuries working docks, factories and offices so repeat offenders from anywhere can use England as a playground with no consequences.

2. People who refuse to integrate

I’m not talking about food, accents or harmless traditions.

I’m talking about people who:

• Reject our basic laws and freedoms.
• Show open contempt for this country.
• Want to live here physically but mentally live somewhere else.

If you come to England and clearly have no desire to be part of England – not skin‑deep, but in behaviour and attitude – then why should you have a permanent right to stay?

Integration isn’t about pretending we’re all identical. It’s about agreeing on a shared set of rules and a basic loyalty to the place you live.

3. Illegal immigrants

If you’re here illegally, you shouldn’t be here.

You run a fair asylum system. If someone genuinely needs protection and qualifies, fine. If their claim fails and they have no right to remain, they go.

That’s not cruelty. That’s what “having a border” actually means.

This is not a call to deport decent, law‑abiding people who’ve grafted, obeyed the law, and genuinely become part of this country. Some of them are more British in attitude than the people telling us this is all “necessary.”

It is a call to draw a line between:

• People who live by the rules and contribute.
• And people who treat England like somewhere to use, abuse or hide in.

If someone comes into your house, eats your food, insults your family and starts smashing your stuff up, you don’t keep them because you’re scared of being called names. You show them the door.

Remigration, in the cases above, is exactly that.

Who should hold power in England?

This is the bit almost no one wants to touch, but it matters.

I’m talking about England, not some vague “Britain”. England has – or should have – its own principle: that ultimate power over this land rests with the English people.

Around the world, countries reserve key roles for their own nationals:

• Many only allow citizens to hold top political office.
• Many restrict military and security roles to their own people.
• Many insist on local sponsors, ownership or control in key sectors.

I saw it firsthand. In Oman, without a local sponsor, you were going nowhere in terms of work and access. You respect that when you live there. It’s their country.

So here’s my view for England:

• The people who hold real power over England – in politics, policing, security, immigration and the core of the state – should have deep, proven roots and undivided loyalty to England.
• That means citizens whose commitment is to this country first and foremost, not to another state, bloc or ideology.
• It means no divided loyalties in key roles. No pretending you can serve everyone and everything at once. When push comes to shove, you put England first.

This isn’t about skin colour or which football team you support (though let’s be honest, Tottenham fans are a different issue entirely…). It’s about:

• Who you are loyal to.
• Where your roots really are.
• Whether, when the hard choices come, you instinctively choose to protect the English people or appease someone else.

Other countries see this as basic self‑respect. We’ve been trained to treat it as a thought crime.

The sting in numbers: more people, less to go round

Forget the speeches and look at what we all live with:

• The population has grown by hundreds of thousands a year.
• GP surgeries have fallen over the last decade.
• Hospitals are jammed; promised “new hospitals” are mostly lines in press releases.
• New social housing is built in tiny numbers compared to the demand.
• NHS dentistry access has fallen off a cliff.

What does that look like in real life?

• Waiting weeks or months to see a doctor.
• Paying ridiculous rent for small, tired places.
• Kids growing up in overcrowded homes.
• More people in temporary accommodation, homeless hostels and rough sleeping.
• Long‑standing communities feeling like strangers in the areas their families built.

And every time people like me point this out, we get told:

“You just don’t understand. This is actually good for you.”

No. We understand it very well. We just refuse to kid ourselves that this is “normal” or “sustainable”.

Our mistake as the frog: trusting the same scorpions over and over

I’m not pretending we’re blameless.

We – the frog – have kept:

• Believing party slogans over lived reality.
• Trusting polished speeches over hard facts.
• Voting for people with proven records of failure because “the other lot are worse.”

We’ve watched them sting us again and again and still bent down and said, “Alright, one more ride.”

The moral of The Scorpion and the Frog fable is ruthless: once you know someone’s nature, it’s on you if you keep giving them chances.

We know what our political class is now. Whatever colour tie they wear, we’ve seen how they act when they’re in charge.

I’m done being the frog

My family has put four centuries into this country.

We’ve loaded ships, kept the wheels turning, paid in, served, and stayed when it would have been easier to leave.

So I’m not going to apologise for saying:

• England should put its own long‑term people first – of all backgrounds who’ve actually made this country their home.
• Criminals, people who refuse to integrate, and illegal immigrants should go.
• Real power in England should be held by people whose loyalty is clearly and completely to England.
• We are not here to carry scorpions who keep stinging us and then tell us “it’s for our own good.”

If any of this rings true for you, don’t just nod and scroll on.

Next time a politician stands there talking about “values”, “fairness”, “control” or whatever today’s buzzword is, ask yourself:

• What did they actually do last time they had power?
• Who do they really serve when the cameras are off?
• Are they the frog, or are they the scorpion?

Because my family – and families like mine across England – have carried enough scorpions for long enough.

It’s time we stopped offering them a lift and started taking our own side again.

(And just to make it crystal clear: I’m not prejudiced against anybody… except maybe Tottenhan fans. But that’s a football thing.)

FAQs

1. Why are you using The Scorpion and the Frog fable to talk about England?

Because it perfectly captures what it feels like to be an ordinary English person repeatedly let down by those in charge. They promise not to “sting” us – on borders, housing, the NHS – and then do exactly that once they’re safely on our backs.

2. Are you against all immigration?

No. I’m against unmanaged immigration that isn’t matched with real‑world capacity – homes, GPs, hospitals, schools – and against keeping people who commit serious crimes, refuse to integrate, or are here illegally. It’s about order and loyalty, not skin colour.

3. What do you mean by remigration?

I mean sending people back in specific cases: serious criminals, those who clearly reject our laws and way of life, and those who are here illegally with no right to remain. It’s the same principle you’d apply to someone abusing your hospitality in your own home.

4. Why should power in England be held by people with “deep roots”?

Because every normal country reserves key roles – politics, security, core state functions – for people whose loyalty is clearly to that country. England should be no different. It’s about allegiance and responsibility, not race.

5. What do you want ordinary English people to actually do?

Stop being the frog. Stop taking politicians at their word. Judge them by their record, demand real numbers and plans, support people who put England’s long‑term residents first, and don’t give your back to anyone you already know has a sting.