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Maths is stressful. That’s why it’s necessary

In the weeks since the Labour government came to power, we’ve gone from debating compulsory teaching of maths until age 18 to entertaining the idea that the times tables may be too stressful for children to memorise. My resilience, my determination and my empathy are largely products of being bad at maths When I was at school in Poland in the 2000s and 2010s, the response to such a suggestion would have been an eye-roll, or the blowing of a loud raspberry. The comment that ‘if you can’t have what you like, then you must learn to like what you have’ was commonplace, and maths was taken by everyone until

Punk may be dead, but the Sex Pistols aren’t

Pull those ripped tartan trews on lads, the Sex Pistols are back! Well, kind of. Lead singer John Joseph Lydon, aka ‘Rotten’, is livid that the other three surviving members have decided to perform a couple of charity gigs without his consent. Really? Punks doing charity gigs? Sid Vicious must be turning in his Pennsylvanian grave. A throng of balding 67-year-olds were pogoing to ‘God Save the King’ while hurling £8 pints of lager at each other The feud goes back to the mid-1970s when Lydon, in typical muso style, vowed to stay true to the music while the other layabouts were more inclined to milk the legacy for all

What Robert Jenrick can learn from Oktoberfest

Sitting in a gigantic marquee on the green edge of Munich, surrounded by thousands of boozy Germans singing along to a Bavarian oompah band, I wonder how I got talked into coming to another Oktoberfest. Last time I came, ten years ago, I hated it and swore I’d never come again, but this time feels different. Maybe it’s the beer talking, but this year the atmosphere seems less manic, more relaxed. There are lots of couples, old and young, and hardly any stag parties. Amid the endless rows of trestle tables I see numerous families in traditional Bavarian dress (the women so alluring in their dirndls, the men faintly ridiculous

The death of the war photographer

Hollywood has been good to war photographers this year. First came the dystopian blockbuster Civil War, with Kirsten Dunst as a veteran photojournalist touring America at war with itself. Now comes Lee, starring Kate Winslet as second world war legend Lee Miller, who captured the liberation of Paris and the horrors of Dachau. Both demonstrate the screen appeal of war correspondents, whose hell-raising, bullet-dodging image is tailor-made for the movies. Yet in an era with nearly as many frontlines as in Miller’s time – Ukraine, Gaza, and Sudan to name a few – ask yourself this question: can you name a single war photographer who’s doing the job today? My

Disney’s betrayal of The Jungle Book

When Sven-Göran Eriksson’s coffin was being paraded through the streets of his home town, ahead of his funeral, it was followed by a marching jazz band playing ‘The Bare Necessities’. The song, from Disney’s The Jungle Book, was intended to honour the former England manager’s request that his send-off should be celebratory rather than mournful. But, despite a personal fondness for Sven – which I wrote about here in The Spectator – this choice left a sour note for me. This was because of a perhaps obscure but nevertheless deeply held dislike which I have developed for the fictional character associated with the song: Baloo, the bear. I cannot stand

My final school run

Up and down they go, criss-crossing the country, cars packed full of stuff. Duvets, pillows, vapes, cuddly toys, packs of cheap pasta and rice, Aldi-brand vodka, clothes horses and apprehension. There are around 1.7 million undergraduates and a third of them, the freshers, are most probably leaving home for the first time.  Some are already at university, including my youngest, who I dropped off at the University of York last week after playing ‘spot the student car’ on the A1. She’ll be studying to become an educational psychologist over the next three years, getting an education herself and a high degree of debt – plus expertise in Pot Noodles. And

Back a mudlark at Haydock

After a week of rain, the official ground conditions for tomorrow’s cards at Newmarket and Haydock both have ‘heavy’ in the description, with a little more of the wet stuff forecast too. If I have learnt only one thing from my decades as a punter, it is to bet with caution when the ground turns into a quagmire. Yes, of course, it is best to back horses that have won or run well on ground described as ‘heavy’ but it is not as simple as that, or even those with a basic knowledge of the form book would soon be rich. When the ground is really, really soft and the mud

How can we trust the National Trust?

A few weeks ago I felt it was my civic duty to draw attention to the many grammatical mistakes and spelling errors in the National Trust’s pronouncements. The abundance of howlers seemed to constitute something of an educational hazard: ‘How many impressionable schoolchildren will assume that the phrase “It’s [sic] location is unknown”, published by such an august body, must be correct?’ It’s hard to envisage the National Trust managing to reduce ‘unequal access to nature, beauty and history’ if it can’t correct elementary mistakes Since such mistakes can be corrected easily, at no cost and almost immediately, it seemed reasonable to think that they’d soon be gone. No such

What has Netflix got against Ireland?

Early in the first episode of Holding, an adaptation of Graham Norton’s novel of the same name, a young, ambitious, foul-tempered detective is called to a village in west Cork where human remains have been found. Before handing the investigation over and returning to the city, she spits out her contempt: ‘I’m not spending weeks down here in the arse end of nowhere.’ Similarly, in the first episode of Bodkin, a Netflix series released last year, a young, ambitious foul-tempered journalist is sent to investigate decades-old disappearances in the same region and forced to team up with an American podcaster and his researcher. ‘I’m stuck consulting on a true-crime podcast in the