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Britain is failing Gen Z
Ask not what you country can do for you, said JFK in his inaugural address in 1961, but what you can do for your country. Kennedy was well-placed to throw down this gauntlet – he had actively sought out dangerous combat service in the second world war when he could easily have avoided doing so. It’s a challenge that has echoed down the decades, especially for conservative-minded people who tend to think about patriotism in terms of individuals’ obligations to the nation and to the state.
All the same, there does come a point when it is reasonable for people to turn the question around once again. It is possible for countries to fail their citizens, for governments to pile unbearable and unjust burdens on the backs of their taxpayers, to ignore their most fundamental duties. It is in this context that we should consider recent reports that love of country and willingness to fight for Britain are collapsing among ‘Gen Z’ (i.e. young adults and older teenagers). The Times reports that only 11 per cent of 18-27 year olds say they would fight for their country, and 41 per cent claim to be absolute pacifists. Cue much handwringing about the effete and decadent younger generation, too busy on TikTok and X to defend their land and honour their forefathers’ sacrifices, or about the pace of population change, with mass immigration bringing in large numbers of newcomers who have no genuine attachment to Britain or its history.
Neither of these points are wrong exactly. It is undoubtedly true that after half a century of progressive history teaching in British schools, modern youngsters lack any clear understanding of our great national story and our unique achievements. People aren’t willing to die for what they don’t love, and we are failing to give the rising generation reasons to love this country.
Similarly, we are in the midst of a vast demographic shift. The 2021 census found that nearly 17 per cent of British residents, more than one in six, were born overseas, and that was before most of the ‘Boriswave’, the huge wave of low-skilled chain migration which has added several million to the population. It is bound to undermine patriotic feeling if a large minority of the population have no roots in Britain going back more than half a century.
However, it is also true that the British establishment as currently constituted does very little to earn the allegiance and loyalty of young people. Housing costs are exorbitant, especially in London. The ratio of house prices to average earnings is now around eight or nine to one, having been around three to one in the mid-nineties. The tax burden has reached levels not seen since the hard years after the second world war. Those who work hard to achieve financial success face a punishing level of confiscation, with student loan interest rates at 7 per cent and the higher rate of income tax kicking in at just over £50,000. To put that in context, gross pay of £50,000 means a monthly take home pay of about £3,300, hardly a princely sum, especially given the needlessly enormous energy costs which British consumers must endure as the price for net zero fanaticism. A monthly household income of £3,300 will not secure a mortgage on a decent family home across great swathes of the country. Social housing, meanwhile, remains out of reach for many, with recent arrivals placing pressure on the system. In London, almost half of social households are headed by someone born overseas.
It is possible for countries to fail their citizens
We could list many more ways in which the British state is failing. NHS productivity remains very low, despite recent funding increases; the police barely bother with many forms of crime; illegal migrants fill provincial hotels, forcing the cancellation of weddings and costing billions of pounds every year. Is it any wonder, then, that those who are just starting out in life think twice before signing up to risk their lives for Britain?
It is possible to overanalyse these kind of surveys, of course. Maybe the kids are all right. Some commentators have harked back to the famous 1933 King and Country debate at the Oxford Union, observing that many of those who rejected the idea of fighting for Britain did in fact do so only a few years later. But we should avoid complacency. There are forces of entropy and national decay operating in 2025 that were simply not present in 1933. There is every reason to believe that genuine disillusionment with the country among the youth may be widespread and deeply felt, rather than being a pose by privileged students at an elite debating club. It can be addressed, but it will need a level of energy and vision that our current brittle, failing and defensive establishment is incapable of demonstrating.
Starmer should split from the EU if it hits back at Trump on tariffs
The European Union has hit back against Donald Trump’s decision to impose 25 per cent tariffs on steel imports. “Tariffs are taxes – bad for business, worse for consumers,” the European Commission president Ursula von der Leyen has said, adding that the levy “will not go unanswered”. Yet for all the fire and fury, Europe will not be quite as united as it wishes. The British government has made it quietly clear that it will not be joining the fight. The Daily Mail reports that the Prime Minister is poised to split from the EU by holding off retaliating. The PM right: this is a fight from which Britain has little to gain and a lot to lose.
It isn’t clear what kind of retaliatory tariffs the EU might impose on US imports into the Single Market. Last time around, it singled out Harley Davidson motorbikes and bourbon whiskey. This time, it could be Boeing planes, or a levy on American tech giants, such as Apple or Meta. We will see over the next few days. For now, von der Leyen has stopped short of direct trade retaliation. She is due to meet US vice president JD Vance, so she may be biding her time to start negotiations. But whatever measures the EU does decide to impose, Starmer is right to ignore his pro-EU instincts and not jump on the bandwagon.
Trump does not really bother himself with small details such as consistency. He has switched from suggesting the UK may be exempt from his tariffs, to describing the UK as ‘out of line’. But while it is anyone’s guess what he will do next, the US president appears at least open to negotiating a deal with the UK that exempts British companies. Indeed, European exporters may be able to get around the tariffs by routing sales through UK ‘subsidiaries’, which could turn into a lucrative trade. The bulk of our exports to the US are services, and they are free of tariffs. We have casually destroyed most of our manufacturing industry with punishing energy costs, green levies and taxes. The result? We don’t make or export much steel, unlike European companies such as ThyssenKrupp or ArcelorMittal. We have far less at stake, so backing the EU over the US on this would be a big mistake.
Even if the EU does decide to hit back hard, it seems likely that Europe is going to lose this fight. The flaw in its plan to retaliate is that it runs a huge trade surplus with the US (worth 155 billion euros annually, or £130 billion). It already imposes tariffs on American goods, such as the ten per cent levy on cars. Its weapons in this fight are rather limited.
Sir Keir Starmer’s management of the economy has been hopeless since he won the election last year. The PM has imposed steep tax rises, let public spending rip out of control, and allowed the hopeless Rachel Reeves to blunder on as Chancellor even as it becomes painfully clear she is out of her depth. Growth has collapsed, and it is unlikely that it will recover any time soon. Even so, he has finally made the right decision. It will drive the UK further away from the rest of Europe, but there was no point in joining the EU’s retaliation against Trump.
Farage and Tories in borders bill battle
It was a late-night showdown in the Commons yesterday evening. The terrain? Labour’s Border, Security, Asylum and Immigration Bill. But while the legislation was passed – by Pyongyang-style majorities – on the back of Labour votes, a row has now broken out over whether the Tories or Reform were more effective in their opposition. Nigel Farage took to X to say that:
Without Reform MPs there would have been no vote on Labour’s useless immigration bill tonight. The Tories did not intend to oppose it until we forced a vote in the House of Commons. Reform UK are the real opposition.
This then prompted a counterargument by Conservative MPs, with the likes of Ben Obese-Jecty arguing that ‘All five Reform MPs voted for the Conservatives’ reasoned amendment on Labour’s Immigration bill last night, including Nigel.’ Yet Reform counter by noting that they forced a vote on the overall piece of legislation – with James McMurdock and Lee Anderson serving as the tellers. A party source told Mr S:
If it wasn’t for Reform UK MPs forcing a vote on the Bill’s Second Reading by putting up our own tellers, there would not have been one as the Conservative party were happy to vote only on their amendment and abstain the bill.
The Tories stress that their own reasoned amendment would have killed the bill if passed. One source claims:
Farage is peddling yet more fake news. Not only was there a vote on the Conservatives’ reasoned amendment which would have killed Labour’s Border Surrender Bill had it passed, but he and his four colleagues voted for that amendment. This was despite none of them bothering to speak in 5 hours of debate on the Bill. As ever with Farage he’s all spin and no substance.
Who’s the real opposition? Steerpike is happy to let readers be the judge of this one…
Why has the BBC changed its trans tribunal headline?
The BBC is back in the spotlight for all the wrong reasons. As the trial between the Scottish nurse Sandie Peggie and NHS Fife continues – after Peggie’s suspension over questioning the use of female-only facilities by trans doctor Beth Upton – it seems that the Beeb can’t quite seem to work out how to characterise its coverage.
Mr S’s spies have drawn attention to a rather odd change on the BBC Scotland website in an article covering the ongoing trial. Initially a piece was posted with the headline: ‘Transgender doctor tells tribunal “I am not male”.’ The opening paragraph of this read as follows:
A transgender doctor at the centre of an NHS employment tribunal has repeatedly insisted on being a woman after being called a man by lawyers during cross-examination.
Yet rather curiously the headline was altered, to instead state: ‘”I’m only asking for basic respect” says trans doctor in NHS changing room row.’ Talk about a change of tone, eh? And that’s not all that was altered, with the first paragraph updated to read:
A transgender doctor is ‘only asking for basic respect’ when it comes to having their gender identity accepted, an NHS employment tribunal has heard.
It’s all quite baffling. About the whole palaver the Scottish Beeb told Steerpike: ‘Online headlines and stories regularly change to highlight different elements of our reporting. We are confident that our coverage of this case is both fair and accurate.’ How interesting…
Six times Leadbeater promised a high court judge safeguard
Back to the assisted dying bill. It has emerged that the legislation’s requirement for a senior judge to approve whether someone should be allowed to end their life has been removed over concerns about the toll it could take on Britain’s struggling courts. An amendment put forward by Kim Leadbeater, the bill’s sponsor, has now proposed that, instead of having a high court judge investigate each case, a panel of social workers and psychiatrists among others should oversee applications. How curious.
It’s certainly quite the turnaround. While Leadbeater has now claimed the changes will ‘make the system even more robust’, prior to her amendment, the bill’s sponsor and her supporters were vocal proponents of the high court judge method. In fact, here are six times Leadbeater promised the safeguard would be in place…
The initial bill
In the first version of the bill put forward by Leadbeater, the text states that under a section headed ‘court approval’ that after a patient wanting to end their life has had their decision approved by two doctors, their case would then got to the High Court ‘for a declaration that the requirements of this Act have been met’ – part of what Leadbeater went on to describe as the ‘strictest protections’. Her row back just two months later will no doubt cause eyebrows to raise…
Guardian interview
In an interview with the Grauniad, Leadbeater insisted that her bill was ‘really strict, in terms of the safeguards that have been put in place’. Going on she explained: ‘Two doctors would have to be involved in the process and it would have to be signed off by a high court judge.’ Does her recent change of heart make the legislation now less strict? Leadbeater certainly has some awkward questions to answer…
Economist essay
The bill’s sponsor made her case in a piece for the Economist titled: ‘My assisted dying bill safely solves a grave injustice’. In the article, Leadbeater wrote that: ‘The courts, both domestic and European, have made clear that if parliament votes for my very restrictive legislation, they would not and could not broaden its scope as has happened in Canada and elsewhere.’ Curiously, she didn’t mention much about relaxing restrictions during the bill’s passage.
Going on, the Labour MP vowed:
Two independent doctors and a High Court judge must be satisfied that a patient is eligible under the legislation, is mentally competent to express their decision and has not been coerced. I have had lengthy discussions with the British Medical Association, individual doctors and the judiciary at the highest level. They have reassured me that medical practitioners and judges are experienced in detecting coercive and abusive behaviour in difficult, even life-and-death circumstances.
Oh dear. This again makes it harder for Leadbeater to now argue that an expert panel is the way to go.
Morning round
Speaking to broadcasters last November, ahead of the publication of her bill, Leadbeater insisted that the role of high court judges in the euthanasia process is ‘really, really important’ – after she faced backlash from a former Lord Chief Justice, Lord Thomas of Cwmgiedd, who warned that ‘no one has grappled with the detail’ of how the legislation could affect the court system. Yet instead of further analysing the specifics, Leadbeater wants to bin off this part of her bill altogether.
The Rest is Politics
Lucky Leadbeater even managed to wangle airtime with dynamic duo Rory Stewart and Alastair Campbell to talk about her big plans for assisted dying. On the podcast, the Labour MP repeated her mantra: ‘[The bill] has doctors checking for coercion. It has a high court judge double-checking that this person has not been coerced.’ That lasted long!
The News Agents
And to the bastion of political insight, the News Agents pod. Speaking to presenters, Leadbeater declared her bill ‘will be the most robust piece of legislation in the world’. Why might that be? Because – you guessed it – ‘two doctors would be involved in the process and then it would have to go to a high court judge to add an extra layer of safeguarding’. How the tables turn…
My false diagnosis exposes a key flaw in the Assisted Dying Bill
Perhaps the strongest argument against the reintroduction of capital punishment is the possibility that mistakes, once made, cannot be rectified. In the 20th century, such errors – even with legal safeguards in place – were not uncommon. Infamous cases, such as those of Timothy Evans and George Kelly, are a testament to that. It is ironic, therefore, that MPs who would strongly oppose capital punishment can, at the same time, enthusiastically support the Terminally Ill Adults (End of Life) Bill brought before parliament by Labour MP Kim Leadbeater.
The same argument applies. If a mistake is made, and a person opts for assisted dying based on incorrect information, that mistake cannot later be rectified. Supporters of the Bill talk about the rigorous safeguards that would surround the decision-making process. But, as with the legal protections surrounding capital punishment, these can fail. It’s also deeply troubling to learn this morning that one of the key safeguards in the Assisted Dying Bill – that cases have to be signed off by the High Court – may no longer apply.
For me, this is no theoretical debate. In January 2024, I was diagnosed with suspected Motor Neurone Disease (MND). Three months later, this diagnosis was confirmed. I was suffering badly from fasciculations (or twitching and cramping) in my hands and arms, and I had noticeable weakness and muscle wastage in my right hand.
The first doctor who diagnosed my condition did so after a barrage of tests and said that, although he had written “suspected” in my report, he wanted me to know that there was no doubt about the diagnosis. He explained there was no single, definitive test for MND, so he would send me to a senior specialist at a London teaching hospital for a second opinion. He also told me there was no cure and that death usually came between eighteen months and four years after diagnosis, but that the end could come much more quickly. Finally, he advised me not to make any plans beyond six months.
The senior specialist to whom I was referred examined me at the start of April and confirmed the diagnosis. He told me that, while I could live for a further five years, he had known cases where people had died within two months of diagnosis. Both doctors also warned that the degree of muscle wastage in my hand suggested I had already lived with the condition for some considerable time.
Upon first being diagnosed, I was struck by fear and panic. I knew broadly how the end would come with MND. Muscle strength gradually fades until speech, movement, swallowing and breathing become increasingly difficult. Although I have many good friends and a supportive family, I am single and live alone. I felt I was in an impossible position and would not be able to cope with such a decline. And so, on the day after my initial diagnosis, I filled in the forms to join the Swiss assisted suicide clinic, Dignitas. I also considered other ways of terminating my life, perhaps by throwing myself off a cliff.
The Dignitas literature stressed that patients needed to administer the fatal chemicals themselves. Where patients had conditions such as MND, I determined that the procedure could not be delayed until the disease had progressed to the point of debilitation. I therefore felt under pressure to act.
However, given my Catholic faith, as the moral considerations of suicide came into focus and my panic started to recede, the desire to end my life also began to fade. The excellent response of the NHS was undoubtedly a contributing factor as I was surrounded by high-quality specialist care. As well as regular visits to the senior consultant, I had the phone number of an MND nurse whom I could contact at any time. My breathing was monitored. Modifications to my home were discussed and I was sent to a palliative care doctor to discuss end-of-life planning. The senior consultant invited me to participate in drug trials but I declined based on my short life expectancy.
Yet as spring turned into summer, it became clear that my health was not worsening as expected. I was sent for further nerve conduction studies. These revealed that my condition was much more likely to be Multifocal Motor Neuropathy, a mild condition that is not terminal and which, in most cases, is treatable.
The Bill currently before Parliament requires that two doctors independently assess and confirm that a patient has a “terminal illness” and is “reasonably expected to die within six months”. It sounds fail-safe. But in my case, I was told by two eminent specialists that I had a terminal condition and that, in the worst scenario, death could come within months. If I had had a fixed intention to terminate my life, I would surely have been a candidate. After my suicide, friends and family would perhaps have talked about my bravery in opting for a dignified death. They would have known nothing of my misdiagnosis. They would have not been aware that my death had been needless.
MPs currently scrutinising the Bill and preparing to vote on it again further down the road need to acknowledge the uncomfortable reality that doctors can – and, tragically, often do – make mistakes. People will opt for suicide when they may have many years of life ahead of them. This is not a zero-sum game.
MPs must consider whether the supposed benefit of introducing assisted suicide is acceptable when weighed alongside the certainty that mistakes will be made and people will die for no reason. In my judgment, the cost is simply too great to countenance.
Watch more like this on Spectator TV:
Should Christie’s cancel its AI art auction?
How do you define art? This centuries-old question is constantly brought back to the fore, particularly at times when artists find new ways to create. It was the case with the advent of photography in the 19th century – and it is the case with art where the process is aided or fully executed by AI models today.
It displays unforgivable ignorance of the innovative and fascinating ways these artists create with the use of new technology
Last week, auction house Christie’s caused a huge stir in art circles, after announcing on social media its first auction offering works exclusively created with AI. Leading the line-up of AI artists are Refik Anadol, Claire Silver, Pindar Van Arman, and Holly Herndon and Mat Dryhurst. It is expected the works of art going on auction will raise upwards of £600,000.
What followed was an almost immediate reaction from more traditional artists in the form of a letter petitioning Christie’s to cancel the upcoming auction. With just over 3,000 signatures, the letter claims that “many of the artworks you plan to auction were created using AI models that are known to be trained on copyrighted work without a license” and that these models “and the companies behind them, exploit human artists, using their work without permission or payment to build commercial AI products that compete with them”.
There is a huge debate – and a number of lawsuits – taking place at the moment between AI companies and artists. The issue of AI and copyright is currently the subject of a UK government consultation. On the one hand, artists claim that tech companies are stealing their intellectual property by using their work when training new models and that can be commercially detrimental to them. On the other hand, tech companies claim what they do is reasonable – using images in the public domain so their systems can learn to create new content. Who knows where this debate will end up?
Investors, collectors and digital artists are split on the matter. Where it is clear for anyone who spends time in digital art circles that most appreciate art created with AI, there is a not insignificant and quite vocal opposition to it. A reluctance to accept artists who create with AI as skilled, or even as artists.
One thing is for sure: a blanket cancellation of a group of top-tier artists on account of a policy debate more suited for lawyers and regulators is hardly the way to go. If anything, it displays unforgivable ignorance of the innovative and fascinating ways these artists create with the use of new technology.
Take Refik Anadol for instance, whose acclaimed “Winds of Yawanawa” collection created in collaboration with the Yawanawa native tribe in Brazil was shown in the Serpentine and had individual pieces sell for upwards for £1 million. Anadol collected real-time environmental data from the tribe’s villages to train his AI model and generate ground-breaking art. Pindar Van Arman has been creating a reflection of his own artistic persona with his own datasets and a robotic arm fed by an algorithm that learns how to paint in feedback loops.
Duo Holly Herndon and Mat Dryhurst, who also explore the use of original datasets in their AI work, said last year: “If all media is training data, including art, let’s turn the production of training data into art instead.”
However, not all artists create their own datasets – some, like Claire Silver, use open AI models like Midjourney and GPT4. They turn prompting into an art – creating a unique visual identity with experimentation. One might ask: how is that different from collage? Or the appropriation of popular culture themes, aesthetic and others’ creations that is common in traditional art?
Prominent auction houses like Sotheby’s and Christie’s have been dabbling in the digital art scene for the past few years. Generative artists, animators, digital illustrators and AI artists are commonly seen on the listings and sell for thousands, hundreds of thousands and sometimes even millions of pounds. Dmitri Cherniak’s generative work Ringers #879, also known as “The Goose”, sold for just under £5 million in 2023. These are auctions for serious artists with serious propositions, exploring new and innovative ways to create and disrupt.
If curators, collectors and auction houses are using their discernment to elevate artists who create in more refined and non-detrimental ways, are they the right target in the mission to curtail copyright infringement? Non-AI artists opposing their work would do well to rethink their approach as they may find themselves stumbling into the wrong side of history.
It’s well-known that art thrives in controversy and resistance to the introduction of new technologies is a normal and expected part of its evolution. It was ever thus. Reflection is necessary, some balance is probably needed, but fear should not stop artists embracing new ways of creating.
Why children peddle conspiracy theories
Teenagers today are more likely to believe in conspiracy theories, and that is a very bad thing indeed. This was the unmistakeable message conveyed by a story in the Times yesterday. Citing a report published by the Commission into Countering Online Conspiracies in Schools, it related how ‘conspiracy theories are rife in classrooms’. Young people, we’re told, are more inclined to trust social media influencers than the government when it came to news sources and forming their views of the world. Teachers ‘need urgent support’ to prevent children ‘falling down rabbit holes online’ and succumbing to ‘misinformation’ they discover therein.
There is nothing novel in teenagers avoiding mainstream news sources
Of course it’s worrying to discover that a greater proportion of 11 to 18-year-olds distrust information from the government (35 per cent) than they do influencers (29 per cent), or that sixty-five per cent see no harm in spreading the theory that humans never landed on the moon. It’s always concerning to read about the baleful and undiminished influence Andrew Tate has on young boys.
But the story, and the report behind it, is based on two fallacies. The first is that an aversion to conventional news sources is a fresh development among adolescents, and that a preference instead for sensational stories is a new and dangerous consequence of social media. The second fallacy is that challenging received wisdom is inherently unwise and perilous.
There is nothing novel in teenagers avoiding mainstream news sources. This was the norm even before the dawn of the internet. Children and teenagers as a rule have seldom listened to spoken-word radio – the Today programme on BBC Radio 4 scarcely ever – or read serious newspapers. Even those newspapers or supplements aimed at children that were launched in the late-1980s and early-1990s, such as the Indy and Young Telegraph, came and went. Children have rarely watched the BBC Six O’Clock News willingly. Like most of my contemporaries, the only news bulletin I tuned into was John Craven’s Newsround, not least because it was brief, simple and often before Grange Hill.
Instead, youngsters have invariably preferred the fantastic, otherworldly and unlikely. While at school in West London in the late-1980s and early-1990s, when the spectre of football hooliganism was still palpable, my school pals and I constantly heard about a nebulous gang called the ‘Chelsea Smilers’ who used to approach strangers and ask them if they supported Chelsea. If the victim replied ‘no’ the ‘smiler’ produced a credit card/Stanley Knife and sliced the sides of their victims’ mouths into a ‘smile’ shape.
There was no evidence for such horror stories, but that wasn’t the point. People who tell tales or spread salacious conspiracy theories do so for the same reason people have always gossiped: to position themselves in the superior role of the possessor and bearer of important, secret and prohibited knowledge, or to solidify social bonds by spreading anecdotes which are probably untrue, but remain nonetheless outlandish and entertaining.
The news this week that pupils ‘saw no harm…about telling people that a small and secretive group runs many world institutions’ is utterly unremarkable from an anthropological and historical perspective: humans have always sought to present themselves as superior to their peers, and humans have always liked telling stories.
As adults, most of us grow out of believing and disseminating half-truths and tall tales. Few regurgitate the made-up story, also common in my day, that Marlboro was run by neo-Nazis because if you turned the cigarette packet upside down, the logo plausibly read ‘oroblejew’. All routine, popular, innocent, fleeting nonsense. Such is the norm for adolescents.
Even if exotic tales and alternative narratives are often harmless nonsense, we should laud the impulse and courage to dare to think differently and challenge often complacent and ossified orthodoxies. A belief in a conspiracy theory often shows a curious, probing mind, and not all beliefs filed under this category warrant the dismissive label. Thirty-five per cent of respondents were ‘happy to tell people that young men are being deliberately excluded by society’. Perhaps they are ‘happy to’ do so because it’s true, considering DEI policies used by private and public bodies for years used to effectively discriminate against men, or the underachievement of boys in state school that’s resulted from their boyish needs being consciously dismissed, ignored or pathologised.
Elsewhere, twenty-five per cent of pupils say there are deliberate efforts in the UK to replace native-born people with immigrants. While there is no evidence that there is a ‘deliberate’ policy, this outlook does perhaps reflect something about the surge in migration levels in recent years.
An obsession with the ‘misinformation’ of the masses is often the hallmark of an authoritarian society that is intolerant of dissenting views and perspectives. ‘Conspiracy theories’ are indeed usually risible. But often children will tell the actual truth because the adults are too fearful to do so.
Andrew Gwynne and the truth about WhatsApp
Labour MP Andrew Gwynne has been sacked from the government, and suspended from the party, for sending ‘vile’ WhatsApp messages. Gwynne, who reportedly wrote that he hoped an elderly constituent who had complained about bin collections would die, is also said to have made antisemitic remarks and jokes about Diane Abbott. He stands exposed of being a callous bigot. Case closed. Gwynne’s career is over.
If making horrible jokes in private is a sin, we’re all damned
Except, of course, Gwynne – and his Labour colleague Oliver Ryan MP, who was also a member of the WhatsApp group and has been suspended – are not bigots. Yes, their remarks were tasteless and offensive – and they shouldn’t have made them. But these WhatsApp observations were clearly bad jokes, shared among friends (or people they thought were friends).
Gwynne’s downfall is satisfying. This was a man who waded in against Roger Scruton when the eminent philosopher was cancelled after being misrepresented in a New Statesman hit piece. It’s pleasing to see this odious government in any kind of trouble, but there’s a wider principle here that is worth defending.
The truth is that WhatsApp groups are a very particular place, with their own very idiosyncratic customs and behaviours. The WhatsApp group that Gwynne – and another Labour MP, Oliver Ryan, was a member of – was called Trigger Me Timbers, but the tasteless and offensive humour that was shared there is far from unique. I know of so many similarly salty humorous WhatsApp chats (though with less Dad-cringeworthy names). How? Because I’m a member of them. WhatsApp brings out in people the best, or worst, depending on your inclination. But the hard and fast rule is that messages should not be taken out of context.
There is often competition to say the most distasteful and inappropriate thing on any subject. I naively assumed this was a male social phenomenon, or at least where men set the pace, but I’ve discovered this to be far from the case. I’m reliably informed that there are all-female chats with ‘content’ that would scorch your eyebrows off. I’ve also been told that such groups exist in the most unlikely circles and among the most unexpected professions; I’d love to be more specific, but I daren’t. Think of the least likely people to be doing this, and you’ll probably be right. No wonder Labour MPs – and, indeed, probably Tory MPs too – are getting in on the act.
Why has this phenomenon, for saying in private what we wouldn’t dare say in public, arisen? Because the clash between the polite, punctilious public-facing faces we wear and uttering the worst thing you could possibly say in private is funny. WhatsApp chats are often childish, scabrous and scatological, with the added horrible thrill of what would happen if they were made public. Naturally, for full comic force, the transgressions indulged in are usually about the hot button issues of our time, the things you must not say, our 21st century secular blasphemies. That is why Gwynne made the particular jokes he did; not because he is sexist or racist, but because these are the hot button topics of the day. If WhatsApp had been around five hundred years ago, he would’ve been outrageous about God and Henry VIII – and paid for that transgression even more dearly than being ousted from the government.
Such chats are where the steam built up from the pressure of having to conduct oneself in a buttoned up, HR and DEI-ridden culture is vented. This is inevitable, particularly in an age when our speech and behaviour is so minutely scrutinised. In Britain today, nobody can publicly say even slightly unfashionable things without the hordes of cancellation descending on them. Is it any wonder WhatsApp groups are so foul?
In the public sphere, we have to pull the right faces and behave appropriately. We must pretend to notice only the correct things to notice, and pretend to not notice the things that are incorrect to notice. MPs have to do this more than anybody; we see this in the way they instantly fall quiet in the Commons during PMQs when someone starts their question with a sad story about a named voter. The three words ‘My constituent Jane’ (or whoever) are deployed, and red faces drop. The hooting and snorting are switched off, as if a Mute button has been pressed. It’s not that MPs care much about ‘Jane’, but they know of the awful consequences of being spotted laughing along while a constituent’s tale of woe is recited.
Gwynne’s remarks sound shocking with all context removed. But they are clearly not what he actually thinks. It would take a good couple of hours to unpack the lore behind the average WhatsApp chat, the arcane frame built on decades of friendships, in-jokes and cultural reference points, to an outsider. The whole point is that the exchanges happen within a trusted, private circle. Made public they look deranged, unfunny and appallingly tasteless.
But they are not hidden truths, what people really think, and not really even about the subjects of the joke. WhatsApp groups are about smashing social taboos and saying what can’t be said in public.
No wonder Labour MPs – and, indeed, probably Tory MPs too – are getting in on the act
There is something about WhatsApp that induces this. Such bad taste competitions don’t occur at anything like the same rate in spoken, or in-person group conversations. The very act of writing seems to encourage the practice. I’m not sure why. The letters and diaries of old stimulated a similar effect, as Philip Larkin and Joe Orton – and more pertinently here, Alan Clark – could’ve told you.
There’s been a lot of disgust at Gwynne the last few days. But this affair has actually made me feel slightly – very, very slightly – more favourable towards MPs. It’s nice to know that at least some of them aren’t perpetually stuck with that lousy pretend righteousness and those bovine ‘I care’ faces; that behind the scenes they are awful, inappropriate humans like the rest of us. But then, many MPs revel in banging other people up for making jokes, so they should expect no mercy.
The real rotter here is whoever leaked the chat to the Mail on Sunday. That’s low. Gwynne’s trusted circle of friends included someone who turned out to be neither, and there have been whispers that it was inspired by a falling out in local politics.
A former Chief inspector, David McKelvey, has said that Gwynne should be investigated as other WhatsAppers have been, to be consistent and avoid two-tier policing. Hold on. This should be a no-tier matter. Because, obviously, nobody should be prosecuted for remarks made in a private conversation.
After all, if making horrible jokes in private is a sin, we are all damned. Every last one of us. But that is a matter for the recording angels, not for the law. In the likely event that nobody comes to their senses on this issue, MPs should just stop. They should get off WhatsApp, now. And trust nobody. But what a pity if they do.
It’s time for Badenoch and Farage to talk
Kemi Badenoch has ruled out a pact with Reform. The Tory leader told the Daily Telegraph: ‘Nigel Farage has said that he wants to destroy the Conservative Party. ‘So I’m not…I have been given something very precious. I am the custodian of an institution that has existed for nigh on 200 years…I have to look after this thing. I can’t just treat it like it’s a toy and have pacts and mergers.’
Badenoch should think again. The truth is that many Tory voters are being wooed by Nigel Farage’s Reform party. Pretending otherwise is not going to cut it.
Reform MP Rupert Lowe’s rousing recent address at a Reform rally had me and the group of life-long Conservatives I watched a recording of it with, nodding along. We agreed with every word; Lowe is a true patriot, no-nonsense (like all the Reform MPs) and someone who is willing to put their reputation, their career, and even their life on the line in the service of this country. Yet these same friends, eagerly hanging on to Lowe’s every word, are quick to blame Reform for ‘splitting the Conservative vote’ in last year’s election, which saw Keir Starmer and his band of socialists storm into Number 10.
Herein lies our problem. As it currently stands, the right is split. Everyone knows that as long as it remains so, Labour will cling to power. Of course, Reform could reasonably argue that the right isn’t split, because the Tories no longer lean to the right. This is a fair observation when it comes to Conservative Party MPs, too many of whom resemble de-facto Lib Dems (CCHQ and the Candidates Team have a lot to answer for). But this isn’t fair when talking about the party membership. The fact is that there are tens of thousands of hardworking, ideologically sound, right-thinking and patriotic Conservative Party members like my friends, who – despite recognising that their party no longer represents their views and that Reform’s policies are more aligned with their own – cling to the party of Disraeli, Churchill and Thatcher precisely because it’s the party of Disraeli, Churchill and Thatcher.
This logic is misguided and lacks substance. The argument that the Conservative Party will always exist simply because it’s had some remarkable leaders and has survived for so long, is deeply flawed. In 1760, the Whig Party was reaching its zenith; the so-called ‘Whig Supremacy’ seemed unconquerable and, as Geoffrey Holmes put it, ‘the long period of Whig oligarchy’ appeared to be never-ending. It was the party of Walpole, Pitt and Fox, and its glorious future stretched out before it. Less than 100 years later, the Whigs no longer existed. In the 1850s, it merged with the Peelites and Radicals to become the Liberal Party; by the 1880s even this party was haemorrhaging members over the issue of Irish Home Rule.
The hubris of the Conservative Party today is in thinking that they will survive simply because they always have. History suggests otherwise. It would be wise for current Conservative Party leaders to bear that in mind.
Meanwhile, Reform is understandably basking in its well-deserved success. They have every right to do so. For years, Nigel Farage has been ostracised and ridiculed by the Tories – mocked, ignored and taken advantage of (we mustn’t forget that, in 2019, Nigel agreed not to stand Brexit Party candidates in certain marginals, to maximise the Tories’ chances of winning those seats, thus ‘getting Brexit done.’) Reform’s meteoric rise in recent months highlights the disillusionment felt by so many Conservative loyalists who have been let down time and again by the party they have repeatedly put into power. Of course, Reform is also harvesting low-hanging fruit on the other side of the party divide with ‘red wall’ voters: the blue collar, white working classes who for decades have been overlooked, ignored and patronised by ‘establishment’ figures in both Labour and Conservative governments.
Nigel and Reform, unlike the Tories, are perfectly entitled to have inflated egos right now. Projecting their membership numbers onto CCHQ was an amusing little heist, and a well-deserved slap-in-the-face for the Conservative Party. Kemi Badenoch’s defensive response was equally ego-driven, although to give her due credit, in recent weeks she’s been rightly focused on holding Labour to account for their appalling cover-up of the grooming gangs.
But Badenoch must realise that our country, with its extraordinary heritage, ancient freedoms and deeply entrenched culture, is under such immediate threats, that if the Tories and Reform can’t put aside their rivalries and unite, then they – and we – will lose all that we hold most dear.
How to bring about this ‘union of the right’ remains to be seen. Some have suggested a pact or alliance, much like the one the Brexit Party made with the Conservatives in 2019. However, the old saying ‘once bitten, twice shy’ comes to mind – much of what Nigel was promised was never delivered upon, and he won’t be so eager to form a pact with the Tories this time around, especially in the light of his sky-rocketing success. Due to the aforementioned egos, neither party will fall under the other’s banner. Another option is that a third party – a sort of ‘holding company’ – be established, to absorb both the Conservatives and Reform without either having to swallow their pride completely. However, starting a new party is risky and expensive, and would only work if both Nigel and Kemi are willing to cooperate.
For years, Nigel Farage has been ostracised and ridiculed by the Tories
So we have to look to the donors; ultimately the narrative will be dictated by money. While we know about some of Reform’s ‘big hitters,’ there are dozens of disillusioned former Tory donors who have pulled their funding but haven’t committed to Reform. Like my friends who agree with Reform’s policies but can’t quite give up on the dream of bringing back Thatcher’s cabinet, these donors are biding their time; watching the shifting sand to see how it settles. They are unwilling to commit to Reform because they believe it to be too dependent on Nigel and lacking structure, but they won’t give another penny to the Conservatives when it remains saturated with ‘wets.’ These are the donors who can really make a difference.
In recent years, we’ve seen just how much ‘money talks.’ The ‘go woke, go broke’ mantra has taken hold, and those of us with common sense are no longer willing to indulge leftist illogical fantasies. When hedge-funders started pulling their funding from Ivy League institutions, some (although not all) of these woke institutions quickly realised on which side their bread was buttered and changed their tune accordingly. We need to see the same strategy applied here in the UK. Switching giving from the Tories to Reform is not the answer, because it doesn’t fix the problem of a divided right. The only solution is for donors to hold both the Conservatives and Reform to ransom until Nigel and Kemi are willing to enter dialogue with each other.
I write this as someone who continues to straddle the divide myself – the beauty of our parliamentary system is that we vote for individual MPs, not parties. So, as a conviction-led, ideologically driven free-thinker who puts my country before any party, I campaigned for both Jacob Rees-Mogg in Somerset and Nigel in Clacton. Does Reform represent my views more than the Conservatives? Of course it does. But I also understand why so many Conservative Party members who share my convictions continue to back the Tories; like reformed, Bible-believing Anglicans who argue that they shouldn’t be forced out of a liberalising Church of England when they still hold firm to the Book of Common Prayer and the 39 Articles, so many Conservative parties members stubbornly refuse to leave the party that ought to be conservative. In both cases, the argument is that those who have liberalised should leave, as they’re the ones who no longer believe in the foundations upon which their institutions were built.
I am well-aware that by writing this article and exposing where I stand, I risk ‘falling between two stools’ and alienating myself from both parties. If this happens, it is purely down to the egos of the parties in question. There is no longer time for party loyalty to trump conviction. We’ve seen where that leads – politicians placing their own careers and egos before the good of the country. Instead, this is the time for those of us in both parties who are horrified by the havoc being wreaked by Labour, and who love this country’s Christian heritage and ancient freedoms, to put aside our own vested interests and recognise that sacrifices must be made if we are to save this nation for posterity. Liberty and prosperity do not come free. They are costly. They may cost Nigel and Kemi and countless Reform and Tory members their egos and personal legacies. But while it might cost everything, it is worth everything. For our own prosperity, for future generations and to protect the very lifeblood of this great country, Reform and the Conservatives must commence conversations and begin working together, seeking representatives of the highest calibre who are willing to sacrifice their careers, their personal lives, their financial security and even their lives in the service of our nation.
Michelin’s relaunch is a recipe for disaster
The Michelin Man is in trouble. In fact, his job is on the line. For 125 years, the Michelin Man, real name Bibendum, has been the face of the Michelin Guide: a coveted series of publications that award restaurants for excellence. But last week, news broke that the guide is attempting to reinvent itself in a bid to keep up with the world of online food reviews. Much like an aged B-list celebrity on a serious comedown, the guide is looking towards the internet for validation. In its endeavour to stay relevant, Michelin runs the risk of tarnishing the very thing that has kept it afloat for over a century: its reputation. And without its reputation, the Michelin Man’s next stop won’t be The Ledbury for flame-grilled mackerel – it will be the Jobcentre for a petrol station sandwich.
Michelin’s identity crisis stems from its fear of online influencers. Accounts like Topjaw, Eating with Tod and Schooner Scorer – a man who has admirably forged a career from being a posh bloke with a Guinness – have captured the nation’s attention with their beaming reviews and rabid positivity. They’re Michelin’s direct competition, but rather than beat them, it seems Michelin is determined to join them.
The problem is that influencers don’t care about haute cuisine; influencers care about being influencers. Everything is fair game, from a sticky-carpeted pub to a Transit van selling bags of mystery meat off the M25. And Michelin has been taking notes. When questioned about fine dining, an anonymous Michelin inspector said it was ‘one of the great misconceptions’ that the guide has a preference for formal restaurants, and that it’s ‘probably a hangover from 30-40 years ago.’ That may be true, though I don’t think I’ve ever bumped into a Michelin inspector on a late-night drunken chicken shop binge.
The Michelin team is also considering sending its fleet of food reviewers to 20 new global locations in an attempt to diversify its list, which is media speak for ‘let’s work with as many tourism boards as we can until people think we’re cool again.’ And diversify their lists they have. Last year, they awarded Mexican taco stand El Califa de León a Michelin star. This is not to say that street vendors are unworthy of accolades – I love tacos – but a star should be awarded to restaurants that serve unique, boundary-pushing food, not to taco stands that have been hawking the same four-item menu for six decades. And besides, that’s why Michelin’s Bib Gourmand exists: to award restaurants that offer high-quality food at a reasonable price. In any case, I’m sure handing a Michelin star to a taco stand did wonders for the guide’s optics – which is what it’s all about, right?
Michelin’s oversaturated star system is partially to blame for their downfall. In 1926, Michelin brothers Édouard and André awarded 46 restaurants with the first incarnation of the Michelin star. All of them were in France. In 1936, the three-star system was introduced. As of today, there are 3,643 restaurants in the world with at least one star. One hundred and forty-nine restaurants have three stars, which is 129 restaurants too many. It’s great when a company expands, but not when it’s at the detriment of their reputability. A three Michelin star restaurant should leave me catatonic and drooling with ineffable glee. I expect the head chef – who in this scenario is Ralph Fiennes – to personally deliver the 20-course tasting menu to my table before blowing my brains out with a Colt .45 when the meal is over. I don’t see Alain Ducasse at The Dorchester offering me that kind of service.
Michelin is the Vogue of the food publication world, and you wouldn’t expect Vogue to start promoting Shein
But according to Michelin’s website, service doesn’t matter: ‘A Michelin star is awarded for the food on the plate – nothing else.’ If that’s true, which I don’t think it is, then we may have the root cause of Michelin’s problem. Service is everything. Does Michelin expect me to believe that a restaurant is worthy of a star even if the kitchen porter is visibly smoking crack outside and throat-punching the chef de partie? Am I expected to ignore the sommelier who drank his own supply and drunk-dialled his ex-girlfriend for the whole restaurant to hear? No, of course not. Even the world’s finest plate of food can’t make up for tardy service and shabby décor – and any other view put forward by Michelin is feigned ignorance.
The problem is that Michelin doesn’t know its own market. Yes, it may have started as an ingenious way to boost demand for cars in France and, subsequently, Michelin tyres, but in its 125 years of existence, it has become synonymous with quality – something that online food influencers are not. I expect Michelin to award restaurants that I can only dream of going to; I don’t expect them to get down in the mud with Instagram influencers. Michelin is the Vogue of the food publication world, and you wouldn’t expect Vogue to start promoting Shein.
Michelin is under the illusion that by diversifying their lists, they’ll appeal to a wider audience. This isn’t the case. Eating out has become more expensive, so there are fewer people, I would imagine, who take themselves off to a three star restaurant. But that’s not the point. The Michelin Guide gives us something to aspire towards. I scroll through their lists with gluttonous eyes and a gnawing stomach, much like a forlorn spouse scours Rightmove for properties they can never afford. On the rare occasion that we can afford a Michelin-starred meal, we expect it to be of the highest standard: excellent service, mind-blowing food, and haughty waiters. We don’t expect to find ourselves standing in the street, breathing in petrol fumes and clutching on to a wet taco as a man screams out numbers from behind a counter.
I don’t know who’s in charge of strategy at Michelin, but if I could speak to them before being forcibly removed from the premises, I would say this: don’t give in to trends. The Michelin Guide has survived two world wars, three pandemics, a dozen financial crises, and Marco Pierre White. You needn’t worry about social media fads. In fact, you’d be wise to ignore them. The internet is a harsh place, and its fans are mercurial. An influencer is only as good as their last post. Remember your founder André Michelin’s mantra: ‘Man only truly respects what he pays for.’
Why are music biopics so bad?
The Led Zeppelin singer Robert Plant was driving through America 20 years ago when he heard a radio station announce that if any listener donated $10,000, they’d never play ‘Stairway to Heaven’ again. Somewhat tired of the song himself, Plant rang up and pledged the cash. ‘It’s not that I don’t like it,’ he later said. ‘It’s just that I’ve heard it before.’
Rather the same attitude seems to have been taken in the band’s new biopic, Becoming Led Zeppelin, which was released in British cinemas last week. The trailer calls it the band’s ‘first ever authorised documentary’, but fans hoping that this means seeing rough cuts of ‘Stairway’ should beware: all that glitters is not gold. The documentary focuses mainly on the band’s first two years from 1968, with no mention of their most famous song, or other classics from their 1970s pomp such as ‘Kashmir’.
Some believe this may simply leave room for a Part II – in which case, the sequel-makers had better get cracking, given that Jimmy Page is already aged 81. Others suspect that by focusing on the band’s early years, it conveniently dodges mention of the sex, drugs and rock ’n’ roll excess that later earned them infamy. Page, for example, was known for his fondness for groupies – some allegedly underage – which does not sit well in the #MeToo era.
One thing that both critics and fans of the film can probably agree on, however, is that it’s a Zeppelin-sized improvement on the band’s previous screen outing, The Song Remains the Same. Released to great anticipation in 1976, it’s widely regarded as one of the worst rock ’n’ roll films of all time, a monument to 1970s rock-star indulgence. Apart from some good live footage, everything else looks like the work of a drugged-up Zeppelin roadie with film school pretensions. It opens, inexplicably, with a scene featuring the band’s thuggish manager, Peter Grant, as a Mafia don gunning down his rivals. Other lowlights include a tedious backstage row about merchandising, Robert Plant doing medieval role-play, and endless Bonham drum solos. Plus, more shots of Plant’s gyrating crotch than even the most ardent Zep groupie would want.
To his credit, Plant later denounced the film as ‘a load of bollocks’. It is, however, just one of many dire pop music biopics made by British pop legends at the height of their fame, when creative judgments were skewed by egos, substance abuse and yes-men. Not only do they fail to do justice to some of our greatest cultural exports, but they also act as bed-blockers for better retakes, complicating licensing rights and giving band members a good excuse to say, ‘No, not again.’
Two prominent examples of this are Sex Pistols and the Clash, who, despite being prog-rock nemeses, were the subject of equally crummy contemporaneous rockumentaries. The Pistols’ 1980 film, The Great Rock ’n’ Roll Swindle, has a plot so incoherent it’s hard to make sense of, but it essentially re-invents the entire punk explosion as a clever Situationist con by manager Malcolm McLaren on a gullible music industry. Guitarist Steve Jones plays a libidinous private detective on the trail of ‘Swindler’ McLaren, Sid Vicious shoots an audience member with a revolver, and there’s a tasteless appearance by a man playing ex-Nazi Martin Bormann. The only person who emerges with dignity intact is Johnny Rotten, who refused to have anything to do with it. To get around this, he is played by a cartoon character resembling a spiky-haired Shaggy from Scooby-Doo. The film is indeed a swindle in every sense.
Also disappointing audiences that year was Rude Boy, the Clash rockumentary. Once again, what could have been the ground-zero story of punk’s genesis is sidelined for a tedious fictional plot about a sex shop worker who becomes a Clash roadie. The filmmakers had limited chemistry with the band – at one point, a spittle-flecked Joe Strummer is shown screaming, ‘Get off the fucking stage!’ at their camera. The band themselves despised the resulting product, so much so that they commissioned badges for their fans urging a boycott.
Other notable flops by big British acts include The Wall, a piece of agit-pop featuring Bob Geldof as a pop star turned fascist, and Spiceworld, in which Posh, Ginger et al. drive around in a Union Jack-painted bus, dodging scheming promoters and tabloid hacks. It’s Magical Mystery Tour with a touch of Malory Towers, and appealed mainly to the Fab Five’s prepubescent fan base (notwithstanding a cameo role by Gary Glitter, deleted after his arrest on child pornography charges).
True, in the case of both the Pistols and the Clash, the record has since been set straight with proper documentaries – The Filth and the Fury for the Pistols in 2000, and the posthumous Joe Strummer biopic, The Future Is Unwritten, in 2007. But in both cases, fans had to wait nearly a quarter of a century, while in the case of Becoming Led Zeppelin, it’s been nigh on half a century.
Part of the problem is that music biopics can be as tricky to make as investigative documentaries. It’s not just the legal complexities of securing the audio and visual performing rights, which can span multiple recording deals. To have any credibility, a biopic requires the participation of at least the lead singer and some of the rest of the band, who’ve often either fallen out or no longer court fame. Bernard MacMahon, the director of Becoming Led Zeppelin, spent nearly a year researching his subjects’ history before he even approached them to ask for co-operation, half-expecting the answer to be no.
A major Rolling Stones drama, word of which first emerged in 2020, is now reportedly on hold because of funding cuts at Disney
Time can also help. Interviewees can talk as mature adults rather than as naïve rock brats. And as most bands reflect the time and place from which they sprang, a good biopic can be a good social affairs documentary too. But time is also running out. Britain’s rock heritage is one of its great pop assets, yet many of our best bands may well be dead before anyone gets round to bringing out a decent definitive biopic of them – let alone ones with Netflix-level budgets and production standards. A major Rolling Stones drama, word of which first emerged in 2020, is now reportedly on hold because of funding cuts at Disney. Work on a Fleetwood Mac rockumentary was only announced late last year, two years after Christine McVie’s death.
Other promising projects have fallen foul of artistic red tape. A 2020 Bowie biopic starring Johnny Flynn flopped, the late singer’s estate refusing to grant rights to use Bowie’s music. A biopic of one of my own favourite bands, the Stranglers – work on which began 13 years ago – is also reportedly stuck in limbo due to disputes between surviving band members. Meanwhile, countless lesser bands – who are still household names – may never get decent documentaries made about them at all.
Personally, I’d like to see the rockumentary equivalent of an Encyclopaedia Cool Britannica, to record the stories of every band that ever made it to Top of the Pops, and their lives in the provincial towns and cities (most interviews will begin with the words: ‘So-and-so was a very boring place in those days…’). Sadly, the golden age of streaming is already coming to an end, with production budgets being slashed. Still, if we let Britain’s rich pop history go undocumented for future generations, we’ll have committed the greatest rock ’n’ roll swindle of them all.
I’m a ruthless declutterer. It has cost me
There are two types of people: the hoarders and those who are always chucking things out because they hate clutter. I fall into the latter category. In my view, a well-ordered environment makes for a well-ordered mind. So you’ll not see my desk buried beneath the usual office detritus, nor my car strewn with apple cores, empty crisp packets, and scrunched-up receipts. In moments of boredom, I enjoy going through a drawer or cupboard to weed out items no longer required.
However, my long-standing urge to jettison useless stuff has led to trouble. One episode still haunts me. I was in the kitchen with my mother, who was cooking an elaborate meal. The countertop was awash with chopped onions, cloves of garlic, clumps of parsley, potatoes for peeling, a plateful of diced beef, spices galore… Trying to be helpful, I vigorously wiped surfaces and tidied away anything unneeded, and in the process swept into the bin what appeared to be a used paper towel beside the sink.
A day or two later, my mother realised her wedding and engagement rings were missing and remembered she had taken them off while cooking and wrapped them in a paper towel for safekeeping. By then, the bin had been emptied, the refuse collected, and the rings long gone. She wasn’t angry, just very sad. I was mortified. I still can’t recall the incident without a pang of pain.
My father didn’t escape my de-cluttering tendencies, either. Once, I was staying at my parents’ flat and decided to straighten the books and framed photos on the jam-packed shelves in the sitting room. I ejected anything resembling rubbish: the odd empty envelope and forgotten advertising leaflet, a used pipe cleaner, etc. It turned out I’d also disposed of the temporary dental bridge my father’s dentist had made for him, and which he’d briefly removed and put on a shelf, also wrapped in a tissue. It just looked like a crumpled tissue to me, so into the bin it went. Luckily, catastrophe was averted when my dad noticed it was missing and bellowed my name. Instinct told him the culprit was me.
Another memorable episode entered the annals of Porter family lore. Even as a young wife, I was unsentimental about outdated old clothes and identified one such item as my husband’s dress trousers, which seemed pretty worn out. I donated them to Oxfam. Come the gala dinner, when he looked for them only to discover they were no longer there, it was too late to hire a replacement. In desperation, he borrowed his father’s black tie. But as his dad was shorter than him, the trousers had to be weighed down with heaps of coins in the pockets to reach the required length. When he walked, he jangled furiously. He was mortified. Eventually, it became an amusing dinner party anecdote.
I can’t remember how my mother-in-law learned of its fate, but when she did, she was livid and didn’t speak to me for weeks
I regretted upsetting my mother-in-law with a similar charity donation. One Christmas, she gave my husband and me a little candelabra made, I think, of silver plate. But the candle-holders were unusually thin, and I could never find candles to fit, so I stashed it away in a cupboard and in due course gave it to Oxfam, where it might do some good. I can’t remember how my mother-in-law learned of its fate, but when she did, she was livid and didn’t speak to me for weeks. I never thought giving it away was such a big deal. Mea culpa.
Because I don’t like walking around with bits of rubbish in my pockets – chocolate bar wrappers, hand wipes, and the like – I always empty them as soon as I pass a litter bin. Important things that must be kept I place in my handbag or, for extra security, in my wallet. But I once got this wrong and paid a heavy price for it. I had parked in a multi-storey car park in London’s West End, but when I returned two hours later and looked for the ticket issued to me on entry – which I needed in order to pay my fee and exit – it was nowhere to be found. I always put such essential items in my wallet, but on that occasion, I absent-mindedly slipped it into my pocket. And there it lay until, jumbled together with some actual rubbish, it got dumped in a bin.
Trying to exit a car park without the requisite ticket is one of the vexing challenges of modern life. There was no attendant on site, no other way to pay. Just an exit barrier that wouldn’t let me out. At last, after getting some grudging assistance on the phone and paying several times what I actually owed, I escaped from my prison. Like Jean Valjean, I’d been heartlessly penalised for one little slip-up… Regrets? Sure, I have a few. But I’d still much rather be a de-clutterer than a hoarder. Just keep your rings on and your teeth in, should I ever come over.
Nick Robinson hacked in crypto-scam
Just what is going on at the BBC? It was only a fortnight ago that Laura Kuenssberg was ‘hacked‘ ahead of the launch of her new show. And now it is the turn of a second Beeb bigwig to suffer the same fate, apparently at the hands of another crypto scam. Nick Robinson, the star of Radio 4’s Today programme, is a longtime user of X, where he is often found tweeting his support for the Corporation in the face of another storm of outrage.
But Robinson appeared to be hacked on Monday evening after he posted a message that seemed, er, a little off-message from his usual observations about politics and the media. The former BBC Pol Ed declared that:
As a political thinker and podcast host, I’m often highly critical of Trump’s policies and decision-making. Yet, there’s one thing I truly find inspiring: his business acumen. Taking a page from his playbook, the BBC Today programme and I are excited to launch the $TODAY cryptocurrency token on Solana.This initiative is more than just a token—it’s a way for our listeners to come together,celebrate innovation,and be part of something bigger.Let’s unite and make $TODAY a symbol of progress and community.
After 40 minutes, the post was eventually deleted – but only after much mockery online. There’s no need for BBC Verify of course: Mr S realised at once it was a scam. After all, there’s no way anyone at the BBC would ever write anything positive about Donald Trump….
Don’t cancel Andrew Gwynne
The police are coming for your WhatsApp groups. And if that doesn’t strike terror into your heart, you’re not using WhatsApp properly.
The hapless former health minister and Labour MP for Gorton and Denton, Andrew Gwynne, hasn’t just been sacked by Keir Starmer for his offensive messages about pensioners, Mossad and Diane Abbott. He’s also been reported to the police by a local councillor, meaning that, right now, Greater Manchester’s finest are weighing up whether to open a file on ‘Trigger Me Timbers’ – the group in which Gwynne inflicted his off-colour, often racially charged jokes on some of his fellow Labourites.
Personally, I think we need to draw a bright line between public and private here. How people talk – and joke – can be wildly different when they assume the door is closed.
Perhaps Gwynne was revealing his true, ugly self when he suggested Abbott was only speaking at Prime Minister’s Questions because it was Black History Month. Perhaps when he said American psychologist Marshall Rosenberg sounded ‘too Jewish’, ‘too militaristic’ (apparently a play on the word ‘martial’) and could potentially be an Israeli spy, he was betraying a secret anti-Semitic streak.
But it seems unlikely. And without a window into Gwynne’s soul, it’s hard to tell where any prejudice ends and a weird sense of humour begins. WhatsApp groups, after all, are the closest the tech nerds have come to replicating the pub chat, where offensive humour reigns. I’d rather not damn people forever on the basis of their worst, most outrageous missives.
In any case, I hope we can all agree that these messages should not be a police matter. If for no other reason than self-preservation. For while most people would never indulge in jokes such as these, we all know it can take a hell of a lot less to ‘trigger’ the speech police these days.
We live in a time in which a man can be fined for making a comedy skit about his pug becoming a Nazi. In which an autistic teenager can be arrested for telling a police officer she resembles her ‘lesbian nana’. And in which schoolgirls can have ‘non-crime hate incidents’ recorded against their names for saying another pupil smells ‘like fish’.
I’d rather not damn people forever on the basis of their worst, most outrageous missives
Worse still, censorship has begun to creep into the private online sphere, too. Paul Bussetti was given a ten-week suspended sentence in 2022 after he filmed the burning of a cardboard effigy of Grenfell Tower, complete with black and brown figures in the windows. He sent the video to two WhatsApp groups, before someone posted it online and it went viral.
Bussetti was convicted under Section 127 of the Communications Act, which criminalises ‘grossly offensive’ online speech. Serving police officers and assorted other scumbags have also fallen foul of this law for sending flagrantly racist messages, videos and memes to private groups on social-media apps like WhatsApp and Snapchat.
Of course, what Gwynne said doesn’t come close to that level of bigotry. But we should be equally concerned whenever any joke told in private sparks calls for a police investigation. This is the definition of tyranny.
Plus, the explosion of woke censorship in recent years shows us that what is seemingly reserved for racist speech today will be visited upon simply controversial speech tomorrow.
So no, let’s not cancel Andrew Gwynne. And let’s definitely not prosecute him, either. Instead, let’s rip up the thicket of laws that pose a threat to everyone’s freedom and privacy.
Second WhatsApp scandal MP suspended
Another day, another Labour drama. Now a second parliamentarian involved in a rather distasteful WhatsApp group has been suspended after former minister Andrew Gwynne was sacked at the weekend over his rather strange message exchanges. It transpires that Oliver Ryan, MP for Burnley, has this afternoon had the whip removed after it emerged he was also in the ‘Trigger Me Timbers’ group chat, with the 29-year-old Labour politician admitting he too made comments ‘which I deeply regret and would not make today’.
News broke on Saturday that Gwynne had been sacked from his health minister job and suspended from the Labour party after some rather odd message exchanges came to light. As revealed by the Mail on Sunday, after a 72-year-old local resident got in touch with Gwynne’s constituency party to complain about her bin collection, the MP wrote a suggested response: ‘Dear resident, F*** your bins. I’m re-elected and without your vote. Screw you. PS: Hopefully you’ll have croaked it by the all-outs.’ And there’s more: screenshots also show Gwynne saying someone ‘sounds too Jewish’ and ‘too militaristic’ and the MP also made sexist comments about Deputy Prime Minister Angela Rayner performing a sex act. Lovely!
Gwynne’s sacking has resulted in a mini reshuffle, with Ashley Dalton MP replacing him as health minister, while Douglas Alexander MP will, alongside his role as business and trade minister, also serve as minister in the Cabinet Office. And there could be more change yet if Gwynne and Ryan remain suspended. Meanwhile housing minister Matthew Pennycook told Sky News on Sunday that ‘there’s an investigation taking place into the whole event’. Oo er.
Could there be some by-elections in the near future? Watch this space…
The Spectator is hiring: US Online Editor (London)
Join The Spectator’s expanding team as our US Online Editor and work with the best British journalists, authors, critics and cartoonists.
As US Online Editor you will work closely with the senior editorial team in the UK and US to commission, edit and publish Spectator articles covering the United States. You will take charge of daily output – which includes covering breaking news and responding to world events – curating the US website and promoting Spectator articles on social media.
The Spectator was founded in 1828 and is the most influential magazine in Britain. There’s never been a better time to join us.
This role is full-time and based in The Spectator’s London offices.
The ideal candidate will have:
- At least two years’ experience working at a newspaper, magazine or online media outlet
- Experience working in breaking news
- Experience covering the US news cycle
- Excellent commissioning and editing skills
- Experience in promoting articles on social media
- Willingness to be flexible and responsive to fast-moving events
- An understanding of The Spectator’s brand and style
The ideal candidate will be expected to:
- Independently commission, edit, post and promote new articles for The Spectator’s websites
- Edit in US and UK English
- Brainstorm ideas and angles on news stories and make judgments about what stories to prioritise and cover
- Recruit new authors and contributors to The Spectator
- Run the US website in the absence of the Managing Editor or other senior staff
- Work with the US team to provide rolling analysis on the websites, from day into evening
- Work flexibly and out of hours
Salary dependent on experience.
How to apply
Please email your cover letter, CV and the task below to usa@spectator.co.uk by 21 February 2025. Early applications will be prioritised. If you have not heard from us by 7 March 2025, please assume you have not been shortlisted.
Please include in your application:
- Four article ideas you would commission for The Spectator’s online US Edition.
- Two author ideas for each article.
- One X post to promote each article.
It’s time for Labour to put Britain first
Less than a month into President Trump’s new administration and the change to international norms is astounding. Well-established practices on tariffs have been upended, alterations to national boundaries called for, alliances challenged, and aid spending thrown to the wind. This is only the beginning for a president determined to rewrite the rule book. His shakeup comes on top of the systematic efforts by China and Russia to reimagine the world order. ‘Right now there are changes – the likes of which we haven’t seen for 100 years – and we are the ones driving these changes together,’ said President Xi to President Putin as far back as 2023.
We are, in short, seeing the biggest strategic reorganisation of the international order since the second world war. It is increasingly a dangerous time too, with more than 110 conflicts going on around the world and the looming threat of war over Taiwan. It is, however, unclear if the British government recognises the full scale or consequences of this change.
Years of cutbacks, coupled with military support for Ukraine, has left the Armed Forces hollowed out
The fate of the Chagos Islands is a case in point. The UK controls this asset which sits at the heart of the world’s most important trade routes. The islands are a strategic prize that China or Russia would love to have – and yet the government is trying to pay to give them away. It is a decision which draws directly from thinking embedded in the liberal, globalised world of the 1990s and 2000s, when North London lawyers were able to promote their progressive views as ‘universalist’ values.
This liberal world order is clearly on its way out. What replaces it is currently being decided upon, and as is always the case with change, there will be winners and losers. Countries that recognise these new threats and deal with them will protect themselves. Those that seize the opportunities thrown up will secure advantages for their people for generations to come.
Making the most of this change requires the British government to have a joined-up, strategic approach. Unfortunately, what we have instead is a mishmash of policies that strategically compromise each other. This muddled thinking is failing to prepare the country for the emerging reality.
Take the policy on China. The previous Conservative government identified it as the ‘biggest state-based threat to the United Kingdom’s economic security’. The fundamentals that led to this announcement have not changed. Beijing has not altered its position as the main disruptor of the liberal world order that the UK has so benefitted from. In fact, China is pushing even harder with its agenda, setting up new programmes like the Global Security Initiative that are clearly aimed at creating a more Sino-centric (rather than Western-centric) international order. What’s more, the US under Trump is promising to go after China even harder than before, most likely forcing countries to take sides. This is exactly what they have done to Panama, forcing it to quit China’s Belt and Road initiative after strenuous political pressure.
And yet the current Chancellor, Rachel Reeves, has actively sought investment from China. Not only does this undermine our relationship with the US, but it also opens the door for more Chinese economic influence over the UK – which cannot be a good thing.
But it isn’t just the threat from China that requires a more cohesive strategic approach. Many would argue that we also need better energy security. Labour’s vaunted GB Energy company is designed explicitly to help with this. But, as Kemi Badenoch said last week, the government won’t stand up to ‘eco nutters’ to make optimal use of the billions of barrels of oil and gas left in the North Sea which could meet the country’s requirements for years to come.
In the nuclear sector, one of our leading companies, Rolls Royce, has developed a new type of reactor that could not only revolutionise our energy supply at home, but lead to hundreds of billions of pounds worth of British exports. Yet Treasury red tape has delayed the approval process for these small modular reactors (SMRs), forcing Rolls Royce to move abroad for its first developments. This has given time for foreign SMR companies to position themselves more strongly when bidding for contracts in Britain. If these foreign businesses are successful, this would damage one of our most strategically important companies and make us further dependent on foreign suppliers.
We also need better food security. This makes eminent sense when the geopolitical situation continues to crash; trying to starve the UK in the event of war is a tried and tested approach by our enemies. And yet the current government is arguing that we now need a 9 per cent reduction in farmland, risking national food production, to meet our climate targets.
Above all, we need a stronger military defence. Russia is already targeting the UK with cyber and other greyzone attacks, and Nato has stated that we need to be ready to defend the alliance. But years of cutbacks, coupled with military support for Ukraine, has left the Armed Forces hollowed out. The Defence Secretary John Healey has admitted that we are not ready to fight a major war.
Yet even as Sir Keir Starmer calls on our European allies to shoulder more of the defence burden in the face of Russian aggression, the government won’t commit to a timeline for increasing defence spending to 2.5 per cent of GDP. It claims straightened financial circumstances, but at the same time is willing to spend almost £65 billion on disability and incapacity benefit (compared to £54 billion on defence). How the Treasury will deal with Trump’s demand that Nato members agree to a target of 5 per cent defence spending is unclear.
The strategic situation is not, however, all bad. There are those in government who are trying to move in the right direction. Revising the planning rules to ease the building of small modular reactors will, according to Rolls Royce, ‘pave the way for the UK to re-establish itself as a global leader in nuclear’. The new announcement on ‘turbocharging’ artificial intelligence recognises the importance of the UK dominating this fundamental technology of the future, even if the money to pay for this is not yet apparent. And the new China audit being run by the Foreign Office, due to be published in the coming months, should lead to a more joined-up approach in dealing with Beijing.
There is, though, a lot more that needs to be done to make sure the country is embracing the international paradigm shift. The most important step for the government to take is a mental one. Ministers and civil servants alike have to recognise that the liberal order of old cannot be the north star for policy making anymore. The world will look very different in five years, let alone fifty, and being a leader of this change rather than being wholly subservient to it is absolutely in the best long-term interests of the nation.
The political establishment may not like it, but the primacy of national interest is back. It is time to put Britain first, both conceptually and in practice. Because if the government doesn’t, then no one will.
The Labour lawyer love-in with the ECHR
With Sue Gray gone, one might have expected the Labour government’s infighting to have subsided. But there is a new public enemy now: Richard Hermer KC. The Attorney General has caused quite the commotion during his time in the top job, with questions raised over his links to Sir Keir Starmer’s controversial Chagos deal, his legal representation of ex-Sinn Féin president Gerry Adams and his stance on Israel. It’s his commitment to the ECHR, however, that has ruffled feathers in recent days as the government attempts to improve its messaging on migration.
Hermer sparked outrage among government figures when, on the same day that it was announced that new small boats legislation would prevent migrants with criminal records claiming modern slavery protections, he told the Council of Europe the government would ‘never withdraw from the European Convention on Human Rights, or refuse to comply with judgments of the court’. Er, right. As one No. 10 source said to the Times: ‘These announcements were made on the same day. How can they possibly be reconciled?’ Talk about a paradox, eh?
While Hermer enjoys his time in the limelight as the pro-ECHR poster boy, it would be easy to forget who else has voiced their strong support for the Convention. Mr S would remind readers that in a speech to the attendees of the European Political Community meeting at Blenheim Palace last July, the Prime Minister himself stated:
The decisions people take to leave their homes cannot be separated from these wider issues. It is global inequality… We are resetting our approach here… We will approach this issue with humanity and with profound respect for international law.
That’s why my government scrapped the unworkable Rwanda scheme on day one – and it’s why we will never withdraw from the European Convention on Human Rights… I myself first read about these principles of the Convention and international law in a law library in Leeds, well 40 years ago now and that inspired me in everything I have done since then. I still draw strength from it and value from it everyday.
How very curious. It seems the Attorney General is not the only lawyer in government that has put the ECHR on a pedestal. Will the anti-Hermer wing of No. 10 turn on Starmer next? Stay tuned…
Why do so many gay men support the AfD?
‘There are many neighbourhoods we can no longer go to because we are in danger of being injured, attacked or murdered,’ Ali Utlu tells me. As a gay German man of Turkish extraction and an ex-Muslim, he’ll be voting for the hard-right Alternative for Deutschland (AfD) party in the German elections later this month. And he’s not alone.
A survey of more than 60,000 gay German men by Europe’s largest gay dating platform Romeo found that almost 28 per cent of its users intend to vote for the AfD, making it the most popular party in Germany for gay men. The poll showed that the AfD did best among 18 to 24-year-olds: 34.7 per cent said they’d vote for the party. Among those aged 25 to 39, it was 32.3 per cent.
Perhaps this shouldn’t be surprising. There’s long being an association between gay men and the right. When the far-right Austrian politician Jörg Haider died in a car crash in 2008, it was on his way back from a gay bar. His intended successor claimed their relationship was ‘special’ and went ‘far beyond friendship’. Haider was, however, married with children and his homosexuality was hidden from the public.
Social attitudes have since changed, even on the hard right. The AfD is led by Alice Weidel, an open lesbian whose partner is of Sri Lankan origin. If she was the head of any other German political party, the media would be holding her up as a progressive trailblazer.
Weidel's opposition to mass immigration means that she'll never be celebrated by the left. But that in itself explains why so many gay people are moving towards the AfD. Ever since Chancellor Merkel threw open the borders of Germany in 2015, the country has been dealing with an influx of asylum seekers, many coming from countries where being gay is seen as shameful or, in the most extreme cases, outlawed and punished with death. Many refugees have brought these attitudes with them and the impact is being felt across Germany.
Late last year, Berlin Police Chief Barbara Slowik warned people there were areas in the capital ‘where I would advise people who wear a kippah or are openly gay or lesbian to be more careful’. This was an extraordinary admission both because Germany is rightly sensitive about prejudice against Jews, and the city is famously gay-friendly, with hedonistic nightclubs like Berghain.
Many gay men I spoke to felt their concerns were being ignored by the mainstream parties. ‘I think left-wing parties thought that the only thing gays cared about was their rights,’ says David, a gay student who didn’t want to give his full name. He doesn’t like the AfD’s social policies but his main concerns are ‘immigration, the economy and security’, so they will get his vote.
There is still controversy over the issue of trans rights within the AfD, who say they will get rid of a recently introduced self-identification law which allows people to ‘change sex’ simply by filling in a form. They cite the examples of a 28-year-old man who claimed he’d ‘changed sex’ but hadn’t had any surgery and who then tried to join a women’s only fitness studio, or the 47 year-old man who also claimed he’d ‘changed sex’ without completing gender reassignment surgery, and who has made a living bringing 239 sex discrimination cases to court. The law isn’t necessarily popular with gay men either. Utlu explains to me, ‘it says that there is no longer any sexuality, but only gender. If there is only gender, there can be no homosexuality’.
The AfD’s success is part of a wider European trend, as the impacts of mass immigration and asylum are felt across the Continent. Over the border in France, a poll from 2017 found one in five gay men there would vote for the Rassemblement National party of Marine Le Pen. According to another poll, the party is especially popular with married gay men. Among the senior ranks of the party, there are many openly gay men, like Sébastien Chenu, Jean-Philippe Tanguy and Steeve Briois. The party has even been accused of ‘pinkwashing’ because of its success at winning over the gay vote.
Although the AfD has said they would end gay marriage and replace it with civil partnerships, this is seen by many gay voters as a sop to social conservatives in their ranks, not something which is likely to happen. They feel that gay rights are secure and the real danger comes from socially conservative immigrants who are more likely to beat them up in the street than threaten the legality of their marriages. Ali Utlu says, ‘It has simply become far too dangerous, and all the other parties don't want to change anything about it… there's just the AfD. There is nothing else for us’.