England need to shut out the noise and look in the mirror

The England dressing room on the final day of last week's Perth Test must have resembled a building struck by a sudden, shattering explosion. One moment there was light, order, and a firm structure; the next, a deafening, visceral shock wave.

It was more than a defeat; it was a systemic failure that felt like the lights had been plucked out. The silence that follows such a blast is rarely peaceful. It is instantly replaced by the sounds of the resulting chaos: the alarms begin to blare, smoke and dust swirl in a disorienting, suffocating cloud, and the structure groans under considerable damage.

As the initial shock recedes, the occupants - Ben Stokes, Brendon McCullum, and the rest of the squad - begin to grasp the new reality. They are hurt, disoriented, and the damage is real. But before they can even assess the situation fully, the cacophony begins. From the outside, the public, the pundits, and the media - the bystanders - start shouting. A wall of competing, frantic advice on which direction to run: Tear it all up! Sack the lot! Go back to old methods!

But the leaders inside know that external noise is based on limited information and frustration. They look out of the windows and see the true dimensions of the crisis: on one side, a metaphorical wall of water threatens to drown the established culture; on the other, a fire of fundamental change risks burning down the positive gains of the last three years. And the structure, while damaged, is not a complete write-off.

Panic is not the answer. Cold, calm discussion must take place, grounded in the unvarnished truth of the situation. McCullum and Stokes hold the leadership keys because they alone know the full extent of the structural damage, the vulnerabilities, and crucially, which areas of the edifice remain sound. They know that listening to the shouting outside will only lead them down a blind alley, or worse, cause them to add insult to injury by making the wrong decision.

Their knowledge, the one unshakeable fact, is that, provided they do not succumb to panic, a perfectly safe escape from the situation still exists. It requires a balanced response, built not on fear but on a clear-eyed assessment of the facts.

The biggest mistake England could make now is to discard the foundational game plan that has been built over the past three years. The key is to assess where the approach, sound in principle, went awry in execution against a ruthless Australian unit.

For all the talk of a humbling loss, the truth is that England had many positives from the match and were, arguably, in a winning position more than once. Australia won because they were superior in three critical areas and had a more robust plan for the specific conditions in Perth: they had the best bowler in Mitchell Starc, the best batter in Travis Head, and the more tactically acute captain in Steven Smith.

The most critical tactical error was the length they bowled in both innings. It is a mistake many touring teams have fallen for at the WACA and now at the new Optus Stadium. England's bowlers, perhaps seduced by the bounce, bowled too short too often.

Starc's success was a masterclass in challenging the English batters' tendency to drive on the up - a high-risk option in these conditions. By pitching the ball up, he forced them to commit to the drive or play a half-shot of the sort Zak Crawley played in the second innings, making them vulnerable to both the edge and any attempted drive.

It is worth noting that Jofra Archer bowled the most consistent and challenging fuller length of the English attack in the first innings, troubling every Australian batter. Stokes' own excellent figures, which came off a mixture of short and full deliveries, may have inadvertently clouded the collective judgement.

This confusion proved fatal when Head strode out in the second innings. His intent to attack was obvious, yet England fell for the oldest trap in the book, dropping short and wide. By taking the full ball and the accompanying threats of bowled and lbw out of the equation, England effectively aided and abetted his brutal cause. What they desperately needed to do was pitch it up and force him to play the more difficult straighter shots down the ground.

The task does not get easier. Brisbane, the venue for the next Test, will be different from Perth but equally difficult. The pink ball will swing and seam, and once again, the full ball will be the challenge.

England must prepare for the home attack - Starc, Scott Boland and Brendan Doggett - to pitch it up relentlessly. The English bowlers must reciprocate. This is no time for tentative half-measures; the mantra for the bowling unit must be: if in doubt, pitch it up.

A more worrying structural weakness lies in England's top-order batting unit, which seems to have adopted a singular, uniform initial movement that will not serve them well against the swinging pink ball.

Too many of the top-order batters make a definite, two-part movement: a substantial step back and across with the back foot, followed by the planting of the front foot. They move effectively from one static stance to a new static position, with the front foot often finishing in front of middle stump. From this position, foot movement is severely restricted. They become rooted, relying solely on their hands and arms to search for the ball. This is fraught with danger, particularly against a full, straight delivery, where they are forced to play around the front leg to access the ball.

The response must start with technical adjustments from the key batters.

Harry Brook is a case study in unneeded complexity. His earlier, highly successful, method was simple, involving minimal movement, allowing him to use the bowlers' angle against them. His current movement pattern has stripped him of scoring options, forcing him into riskier shots. He needs to go back to the tape, re-evaluate, and simplify.

Ben Duckett and Ollie Pope both showed periods of resilience in Perth, offering a foundation upon which to build. They proved that the aggressive method can work, provided the footwork is precise and the shot selection is judicious.

Pope has a similar problem to Root and Brook in that his initial movements leave his front leg exposed to full, straight deliveries. The commentators talked about his head falling over to the off regularly but they couldn't explain why. These early movements cause him to take the leg to the line of the straighter deliveries, meaning that his head has to be to the off side of the ball. He needs to fix the leg issue before the head position will be addressed.

Crawley is the batter who will have the most soul-searching to do. His "stand and deliver" driving method, while apparently aesthetically pleasing, will be no more successful in Brisbane than it was in Perth. He will not be able to change a lifetime's habit in 12 days, so he has to be very disciplined with his selections, only driving at half-volleys and full tosses at the Gabba. Unless he can introduce genuine defence and leave the ball with confidence, his pain will only increase.

The itinerary in the lead-up to the Brisbane Test must be strictly managed. The batters intended for the Brisbane XI must play the pink-ball game in Canberra to gain much-needed centre-wicket practice against the moving ball. At the same time, England's entire bowling unit must dedicate practice time to relentlessly hitting a fuller length and forcing the Australian batters to drive.

The analogy remains the ultimate instruction. The alarm bells are deafening. The outside noise is a constant, tempting distraction. But panic will lead to catastrophic decisions. Stokes and McCullum must maintain their equilibrium, trust the intelligence gathered in Perth - the positives, the evidence of clear errors - and formulate a balanced response. Going into their collective shell is not the answer; neither is continuing the helter-skelter approach mindlessly. Discipline and judicious decision-making are required to get back into this contest.

The structure is sound enough to escape. But England must not listen to the shouts; they must learn the lessons. Only then can they hope to get back on the course, lest the race be over before the end of the first straight.