Lifted from the comments, an item you may have missed.

In our discussion about The Activist-Wanker Caste and its signature disdain for reciprocation, I wrote:

Well, sometimes an example of what you’re talking about comes along that seems almost too on-the-nose. Specifically,

No, really.

It turns out that Ms Lydia Gribbin, one of the five protestors, had assumed that only other people’s lifestyles should be curtailed, that only other people’s plans can be thwarted with impunity.

Update, via the comments:

I was reminded of this post from deep in the archives, in which former Guardian columnist Mr Sunny Hundal boasted of his support for Plane Stupid, an activist group whose members vandalised airports and obstructed runways, disrupting the journeys of thousands of would-be passengers. A group whose pronouncements included “Aviation is mostly unnecessary.”

Mr Hundal wanted us to know that,

Though not, I suspect, quite as much pleasure as his own extensive air travel adventures – flying halfway around the planet, twice, to India then California – adventures that were excitedly announced shortly before his declaration of support for Plane Stupid: “Honestly, I love these guys.”

FredTheFourth adds,

Well, it helps to bear in mind that such ostentatious pieties are very often a kind of camouflage for quite vain and obnoxious people. People whose own hypocrisies and dishonesties, however glaring, do not appear to embarrass them, or alter their behaviour. Consequently, yes, they’re difficult to shame.

They’re the kind of unspanked little tossers who gleefully vandalise petrol stations, rendering them unusable, while applauding themselves, and who conflate “not being heard” with not being obeyed. The kind of preening dolts who film themselves pouring oil onto busy roads, an act morally analogous to sabotaging the brakes of random cars and motorbikes.

This is who they are.

These are people for whom vandalising art galleries, with hammers, and physically obstructing thousands of people, including emergency vehicles, for hours, and doing it over and over again – is somehow “peaceful,” benign, and terribly high-minded.

From here, it looks more like a narcissist’s power game, a kind of recreational sociopathy. I mean, if someone gets their jollies from screwing over random people and watching their victims’ exasperation and pleading – if that’s what makes our mighty warriors feel powerful and important – then the term recreational sociopathy does not seem inapt.