Because Britain has such mild Winter weather (birds even migrate here to dodge the serious continental-climate weather), we never get ready even for the short bit of slightly cold temperatures that we do have. Instead - as now - the minute we get a degree - or even two or three - of frost, and here and there a light dusting of snow, we go through this rigmarole every December/January: “Oh my god, this cold, this snow!!! It hasn’t been this bad since - oh - as long ago as last December, god help us!!!”
Everything crashes into chaos, with futile Cobra meetings and general hysterics. Nothing effectual is ever done, and - sureashell - no money is spent on actually preparing for some short spells of slightly difficult weather.
Other states - especially those used to dealing with serious Winters every year - look on bemused: “WTF is wrong with the Brits? Why don’t they just do a bit of the obvious stuff?”
But we prefer our weird muddle-through ritual… “OMG! OMG! This FRIGHTFUL weather. Who could have predicted THIS…”
And naturally, we NEVER spend any time or effort on getting people to stay away from mountain tops or risky ice, even though it would be so easy to do.*
Just reporting on today’s ‘news’ bulletins on R3.
*I should plead guilty to the common British madness, though, really. Many years ago, I went through a solitary shamanic dedication ritual by climbing Gashed Crag on Tryfan, Eryri, Cymru Gogledd, solo, on Christmas Day, and with literally no-one alerted to where I was in case I went missing. It was freezing rain at that time, making the rock - well - interesting. But the gods of the Shaman’s Way were pleased to accept my request: Safe return from my totem-mountain, and Rainbow’s galore all through that day. But it was a typically slapdash British way of dealing with the weather by me…