Bruce Anderson: We have been here before, and it's in our past that the solution to social breakdown lies

We know what we feel. So what are we going to do about it? There is no short road from shock to solutions. If we are honest with ourselves, there is every reason for cynicism: every likelihood that David Cameron's warning will be vindicated. "Unless we choose to change ... our shock today will turn into a shrug tomorrow, just an impotent ache about the state of the world."

Powerful words, from a speech crafted in raw emotion. But choosing is easy. How do we bring about the change? Mr Cameron directed his fire on negligent parents, a permissive culture which exploits the young by glorifying violence – and on the Government, for turning policemen into form writers rather than crime fighters.

In each case, he is justified. But there is an even bigger problem. Eric Hobsbawm wrote that as they lost hope, some of the first wave of those who manned the Industrial Revolution sought solace in dreams and violence. That is now true again, of our inner-city underclass and especially its young males. For them, the gang culture provides both violence and dreams. So how do we reach down, below all the ladders which our rich society provides, to grapple with the hopeless and lead them back to hope?

We should start by returning to Victorian values, for we have been here before. Read William Hague's excellent life of Wilberforce: eloquent on the late Hanoverian era's moral squalor, which embraced all social classes. Re-read David Copperfield on the horrors of young David's journey across Kent, and Oliver Twist on the world of Fagin and Bill Sykes. Our early Victorian forebears were just as gloomy as we are about the state of the country. But within a few decades, there had been dramatic improvements. This was due to a judicious blend of rising prosperity, repression, better infrastructure and social action. As we already have the prosperity and the infrastructure, our task should be simpler.

The Victorians repressed by creating an effective police force. With the aid of street lighting and better roads, it was able to clean out the thieves' kitchens. But repression did not mean savage punishments and longer prison sentences. During the Victorian era, the penal code was steadily humanised. By the end of the Great Reign, there was much less reliance on hanging and flogging. Prison conditions were vastly better and the crime rate, already at a fraction of today's level, was still falling.

The Victorian police eliminated no-go areas. So did Victorian social reformers, almost always under the aegis of religion. They set up boys' clubs and soup kitchens: Shaw's Major Barbara captures the flavour. They shamed the immoral and encouraged the moral. Marxists would describe this as social control, and rightly so. Society was brought under control.

It would be hard to find a contemporary equivalent. There is no longer a moral consensus based on belief in God and fear of hell. About 40 years ago, the values which had officially governed British society for centuries suddenly became inoperative. Forty years on, the transmission of values has broken down and the crime rate has soared.

Yet it would be premature to conclude that nothing can be done. Hope can sometimes spring out of hopelessness. People become so revolted by intolerable conditions that they suddenly act to change them (let us hope that this is now happening around Baghdad). In London, one hears of many youth clubs working in the worst areas. Superficially, there is little resemblance to the Victorian clubs. Today's leader is more likely to be an ex-con than the curate. But the purpose is the same. The Victorians knew that the Devil finds work for idle hands. We must encourage young males to work off their energies and express their masculinity in lawful ways: football, boxing (very Victorian), cricket, outward-bound type activities in the countryside, et al. There are small points of light. They must be encouraged to proliferate.

This brings difficulties. Our civil servants, admirable in so many respects, have two prejudices which are not helpful in this context. They believe in universal provision. They also believe in double-entry book-keeping, in order to regulate the disbursal of public funds. But by definition, the points of light only switch on in particular areas. Equally, there will be failures: plausible, indeed charismatic, organisers – until one day, they leg it with the cash box. But these are prices worth paying. We have to think in terms of a micro-social policy rather than some great clunking Whitehall initiative which descends from on high in clouds of spin, finds no purchase on the squalid reality below and wastes far more money than the occasional embezzled mini-project.

In this column, I have occasionally argued for a new cadre of social workers. These would be former soldiers or policemen, wives whose children have grown up, businessmen made redundant in middle life and similar characters. They would have the zest for a new challenge. They would each be given a case-load of underclass families (mainly single mothers) and would be paid by results. There would be bonuses if the brats attended school and stayed out of trouble. These social workers would be given limited discretionary powers to reward good behaviour – extra cash for Mum – and punish bad: clip a couple of quid off her benefit. They would act as a social fire brigade, bringing ladders where there had been none.

No one has told me why this is a bad idea.

But social action is not enough. We need far more policemen in the troubled areas. As well as redeploying existing bobbies away from paperwork, it may be necessary to recruit more part-time policemen available for duty, say, three times a week from 6pm to 2am. They would be the boots on the ground in rough areas. When serious trouble was imminent, they would be able to call up a rapid reaction reserve of fully trained policemen with access, alas, to firearms.

We also need zero tolerance. If the police know who the gang leaders are, those gangsters should only be able to move around under the shadow of Old Bill's hand, constantly about to feel their collars. Above all, zero tolerance must extend to truancy. If we cannot stamp out truancy and ensure that young children go to school, we may as well give up any hope of solving the crime problem.

David Cameron called for a new social covenant. This means a realisation that things cannot go on as they are. Fifteen years ago, when Michael Howard became Home Secretary, his officials told him that there was one thing which he must understand: the crime rate always went up. There was nothing that he or any Home Secretary could do about it. Mr Howard refused to endorse that pessimism. Lo and behold, the crime rate fell. Despite this government's spinning, it has subsequently risen.

So it is now time for another onslaught on pessimism. We must remember that if this is unsuccessful, pessimism will give way to despair.