This is not 1981. Nor 1985. As has been pointed out over the past few days, things have changed a lot since the "inner-city unrest" – as it was quaintly named back then – erupted in Brixton, Tottenham, Toxteth, Handsworth and other parts of Britain.

But with each passing day, the old maxim, "The more things change, the more they stay the same", has increasing relevance. In the 80s, as now, rioting was sparked by a confrontation between black people and the police and spread to the rest of the country, including to "white" areas. In 1981, the Conservative prime minister dismissed suggestions that the Brixton riot was due to unemployment and racism. Time proved that she was badly wrong. But fast forward three decades, and David Cameron tells the House of Commons that this week's rioting was "criminality, pure and simple".

In the years up to 1981, tension had been building between black people and the police over the "sus" laws, which gave officers powers to arrest anyone they suspected may be intending to steal. For them, a black youngster glancing at a handbag was enough. After Brixton, this law was repealed. Today, however, black people are seven times more likely than white people to be stopped and searched. And under the 1994 Criminal Justice and Public Order Act – which allows police to search anyone in a designated area without specific grounds for suspicion – the racial discrepancy rises to 26 times. This is symptomatic of the many ways in which, for black Britons, life seemingly improved but has steadily descended again.

In 1985 there was not a single black MP. The main community voice came from Bernie Grant, then leader of Haringey council. Grant became a media hate figure in the aftermath of the Tottenham riot in which an officer had been killed, when he quoted youngsters gloating that the police had had "a bloody good hiding". However, his connection with local people made him hugely popular and two years later he was elected MP. Similarly, Paul Boateng, who had been a campaigning civil rights lawyer, greeted his own election the same night by declaring: "Today Brent South, tomorrow Soweto."

Today we have a dozen black MPs, including some in the Conservative party, but their backgrounds are a million miles from the community activism of their predecessors. Today's crop, well groomed in spin, ensure they remain on message. "I'm not a black MP, just an MP who happens to be black," is their common refrain. Aside from Diane Abbott (also of the class of 87), can anyone imagine them speaking with the passion of a Grant or Boateng? In the late 80s there were black leaders in three London boroughs. Now there are none. So who, today, speaks for black people?

In 1993 the Commission for Racial Equality, Britain's most powerful anti-discrimination body, gained its first black chairman and was seen as a strong advocate for equal rights. In 2007, under New Labour, it was abolished, and subsumed within the Equality and Human Rights Commission, with much-depleted funds.

In 1982, the first black British newspaper, the Voice, was set up, as the mainstream media showed little interest in the black perspective. Initially it thrived, buoyed by the revenue from public sector equal-opportunities job adverts. Other black newspapers followed – including my own. But one by one they went out of business. The Voice still survives, but as a shadow of its former self, the equality ads having dried up long ago.

In 1999, the Macpherson inquiry into the murder of Stephen Lawrence recognised institutional racism within the police. This led to a sudden interest in diversity and equality in mainstream institutions. On 9/11, though, attention suddenly switched to the Muslim "problem", and black equality was forgotten.

So the problems have festered on, only gaining attention during mini epidemics of gun or knife crime. This week, copycat looting has again shifted attention from the core problems within black communities: poverty, discrimination, disaffection, police harassment, educational underachievement, family breakdown. Some of these are for individuals and communities to address; some require support and a change of mindset by the state.

Over the last three decades we've allowed ourselves to be fooled that, with greater integration, plus a few black faces in sport and entertainment, things have improved. People gush about the growing mixed-race population, supposedly Britain's "beautiful" future. Well, Mark Duggan had a white parent but it didn't make much difference to his prospects.

Today, Cameron could stick to his comfort zone, talking of tough action against gangs and social media, of punishing offenders and welfare spongers. This is destined to fail: as in Iran or Syria, a crackdown won't solve the problem. It will just bring more people into conflict with the law, seeing officers as the enemy. Once that happens, the impact on communities can be devastating.

So no, this is not 1981. In many ways it's worse. Those riots were in their own way aspirational – people thought things could get better. This time all the indicators seem to be pointing downwards.