Two and a half years ago I joined the Tory party to vote for Boris, then unjoined as soon as I could. I’ve never been a Tory voter but I believed in Boris and never thought of him as a cliquey, old-school Conservative. Now I’d like to rejoin to keep Liz Truss out. She seems to want to be PM just for the sake of being PM – we’ve had enough of that. But I’m hoist on my own petard. The party has wised up to tactical joining and you need to be a member for six months to vote.
One of the many reasons we have a chronic staffing shortage, it’s said, is that Generation Z only want to do jobs that will protect their mental health, i.e. ones that aren’t too much like hard work. I’m not sure that’s the answer. I think hard work, and even a bit of stress, can sometimes be exactly what the doctor ordered. I remember when my mother, an actress, was 70, out of work and unhappy: so much so that she got shingles. Then the call came to learn the leading role for a play in three weeks and fly to South Africa. The shingles vanished, the play was a triumph and she was happy as Larry. Actors call it ‘Doctor Theatre’. Being needed, being part of a joint enterprise, working hard and getting on with the joys of life – family, charity, hobbies – might be a better recipe for happiness than endless concentration on mindfulness and self-protection.
When we moved to the country 47 years ago, there was no such thing as an app. Just as well – we might not have made the move.
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