Columnists

Columns

James Forsyth

Free movement is Europe’s totemic issue

It isn’t just Brexit that worries the government, as the cabinet meeting this week demonstrated. Much of it was taken up with a discussion of the upcoming Nato summit and Donald Trump’s visit. Ministers were told that Britain would be encouraging its allies to increase defence spending, with the aim of assuaging Donald Trump and

Should people be forced to be gay?

At last I have found a summer festival I can attend in good faith without the possibility of Jeremy Corbyn turning up. I mentioned a couple of weeks ago that there seemed to be no festive gatherings planned which Corbyn wouldn’t attend, with his retinue of Trot imbeciles. In response, the philosopher Roger Scruton very

You don’t win an argument by getting personal

‘If you see anybody from that cabinet in a restaurant,’ Democratic Representative Maxine Waters railed to a California rally last month, ‘in a department store, at a gasoline station, you get out and you create a crowd. And you push back on them. And you tell them they’re not welcome any more, anywhere.’ So this

The term ‘marriage’ needs to be untangled

Rebecca Steinfeld (37) and Charles Keidan (41) have a moral objection to marriage. They’ve been together since 2010, have two very small children, but haven’t tied the knot. This, they say, is because the law doesn’t offer a knot they’re comfortable tying. ‘Charlie and I see each other as partners already in life, and we

The Spectator's Notes

The Spectator’s notes | 5 July 2018

Newsmax, the magazine of the eponymous US conservative multiplatform network, carries a full page advertisement for ‘The Presidential 1911 Pistol’, produced by an organisation called Heroes and Patriots. This ‘beautifully engraved’ and ‘fully functional’ Limited Edition Colt Government 1911 A1 Semi-Automatic Pistol is gold-plated and holds 12 rounds. Its purpose is to ‘unite with our

Any other business

Enjoy your feelgood summer – there may be trouble ahead

I’ve been on a mini-tour, full of echoes and warnings. First, to the Grange Festival in Hampshire, where we might still have been enjoying the summer of ’87: a moneyed audience in a Barings mansion laughing at funny foreigners in John Copley’s retro Seraglio (see Richard Bratby’s crit last week). Then to Oxford, to show