The central State doesn't trust us at all. Every single day of this Labour shambles brings yet another message from the Statists that we can't be trusted, and only the State knows best. They don't trust us to eat, drink, walk, drive, shop, sleep, read, cook, wash or own a pet without a blizzard of official guidance backed by intervention and enforcement powers if we continue to get it wrong. And they certainly don't trust us to interact with one another; they've destroyed the social spaces where we meet, the intermediate institutions that maintained local norms and even the opportunity to interact with our children.
In 1976 we were encouraged to organise street parties. Today there would be a hurricane of official discouragement; all adults would have to undergo CRB checks, £5m public liability insurance would need to be in place, and no-one would be allowed to bake a cake or make a sandwich for the party unless they had undergone food hygeine training and the environmental health had certified their fridge. There would need to be a risk assessment, a health and safety policy in place, an application to the council to stop-up the highway complete with traffic management plan, and if anyone wanted to sing, a temporary events licence, entertainments licence and police licence would be needed. If the street party involved a rum punch for the adults, then a whole spectrum of liquer licences would be needed. The licence conditions would specify bouncers, fire marshals and first aid and fire fighting equipment to be on hand; there would also need to be temporary toilets (with a sewer connection licence) as popping indoors for a pee wouldn't satisfy the statutory requirements. In short, in the space of thirty years the State has erected barriers of such formidable complexity that it has robbed the nation of any trust in ourselves.
And if the State doesn't trust us, we don't trust eachother. We're growing used to the State eliminating risk from our lives, to the extent that if something untoward happens - we slip on an icy pavement - it's the State's fault, not an accident. So who's surprised when the State's reaction is to close the pavements in icy weather? To close the schools in case a child slips in the playground? To close the entire southeastern train network for two days in case a passenger (sorry, 'customer') slips on an icy platform?
Yes, after every icy spell the A&E departments will be plastering fractured scaphoids. And thousands will be nursing bruised hips, knees and elbows. That's weather. Accept it.