From Wembley to the world: why the spirit of Live Aid still matters

As an undergrad student, I queued early in the morning at a local record store to secure a ticket with one of my friends, whose 20th birthday fell on the day of the concert – what a way to celebrate.

It was an extraordinary day. I remember the joy of Status Quo kicking off with ‘Rocking All Over the World’, Sade drifting gently over the crowd in the summer heat, Bono appearing to fall off the stage only to dance with someone pulled from the audience, Queen knocking it out of the park, Bowie looking so cool, the crowd ignoring Madonna being beamed in from Philadelphia, choosing, instead, to play volleyball with an enormous beach ball, The Who imploring us not to be fooled again, booing when Paul McCartney’s mic didn’t work and then cheering when it came on.

It still informs so much of who I am, and how I approach the injustices of the world. It gave me a desire to do something, anything, about the deaths of millions of innocent people every year through poverty.

Of course, it was naïve to think that Live Aid would solve the ills of the world. No one ever fully believed that. But if it saved one life, that would have been enough. To save more was the goal, and that it did many, many times over.

But we’re unlikely to see another event of this kind again. Young people’s music tastes have changed so much in the subsequent decades and diversified so much due to streaming service algorithms – there is no universal pop culture anymore.

Worse, though, is the sense of helplessness among so many young people.

Oxfam estimates today that 7.7 million people die every year in poverty across the world, the majority of whom are women and children.

Modelling by Boston University shows Donald Trump’s cuts to USAID have already caused thousands of preventable deaths, and a recent Lancet study estimates that if these cuts continue, over 14 million more people, including around 4.5 million children under five, could die globally by 2030.

So this poses the question - why are more people not angry?

Maybe they feel they can do nothing. Maybe it seems pointless in a world full of conflict and despair. Maybe they feel it is too late because the planets on fire. Maybe they have fallen foul of the divisions that many in society seek to perpetuate for their own ends.

While the moment for another Live Aid concert might have passed, we need to find new ways of bringing about change.

If there is one thing the event taught me, it is that we can make a difference. I don’t care if you’re a rock star, politician, academic, or refuse collector - together we can save lives and we can bring about change. I believed that 40 years ago and I believe it now. For many people, that was, and is, what Live Aid was all about.

Professor Andrew Moran is the Head of Criminology, Sociology, Politics and International Relations at London Metropolitan University