Matthew parris

One of the interesting features of the Brexit debate is that it has laid bare a schism in British society which runs much deeper than the conventional Labour-Conservative divide. On the one hand, we have the prosperous, educated elite, mainly based in cities and university towns, who are liberal on social issues, pro-immigration, believers in free trade and internationalist in outlook. On the other, we have the white working class, clustered in areas of economic stagnation, particularly seaside towns, who are socially conservative, anti-immigration, suspicious of free trade and staunchly nationalist. This isn’t a perfect summary. Dan Hannan, Boris Johnson and Michael Gove fall more naturally into the first category,

I see. So now we have the result of the Irish referendum on gay marriage, and now we’ve heard the Roman Catholic Church’s chastened response, we shall have to rewrite Exodus 32, which (you may remember) reports Moses’ (and God’s) furious reaction to the nude dancing and heretical worship of Moloch in the form of a golden calf: the Sin of the Calf in the Hebrew literature. Moses had come down from Mount Sinai bringing God’s commandments written on two tablets of stone. ‘And it came to pass, as soon as he came nigh unto the camp, that he saw the calf, and the dancing: and Moses’ anger waxed hot…

Matthew Parris is obsessed by an unsolicited app which landed on his smartphone and which, thanks to GPS tracking, is able to tell him how far he has walked in the past 24 hours. ‘I can’t stop checking, sometimes every 10 minutes, my average daily distances,’ he wrote in the Times last week. He has discovered, to his pride, that he covers an average of 3 miles a day. I would beware that app, Matthew. There is a reason why it is free and why it sneaked itself onto your phone ­and it isn’t with your health in mind. It has put itself there so that advertisers can follow you around. I

Matthew Parris Spectator and Times columnist One evening in 1995 some friends brought a friend to dinner at my flat. His name was Julian, and he seemed rather bright. As it happened, the Nigerian ecological campaigner and fighter for rights of the Ogoni people, Ken Saro-Wiwa, was in prison having been convicted on trumped-up charges of incitement to murder. His case had become an international cause célèbre. His conviction carried the death penalty; and he was widely believed to face death by hanging. I was in full ‘old African hand’ mode, and announced to the table that I knew the ‘African mindset’ too well to believe Saro-Wiwa would actually be

I received a phone call the other day that I wasn’t expecting. It was a BBC producer calling about a Radio 4 series called Great Lives, presented by Matthew Parris. Each week, a distinguished guest is asked to nominate someone they believe is truly deserving of the title ‘Great Life’ and then they come on the radio to discuss that person, along with an ‘expert’. I got rather excited as she was explaining this. Had someone really nominated me? When she told me the name of the guest I was even more thrilled — Brian Eno, the founder of Roxy Music. ‘The rock legend?’ I said. ‘That’s awfully flattering.’ ‘Yes,

Scotland goes to the polls today, but whichever way the vote goes, it’s clear who lost the campaign: ‘No’ was outsmarted at every stage of the referendum battle. But how was this allowed to happen? In this week’s podcast, James Forsyth discusses what went wrong with Hugo Rifkind and Alex Massie. If Scotland does become independent, does the rest of Britain owe them anything? And if they stay, should we be forever grateful? In his column this week, Matthew Parris suggests the Spectator’s cover story last week – in which we asked our readers to write to Scots to ask them to stay – was unnecessary. He hopes that there

As Mr S predicted yesterday, the row between Times colleagues Matthew Parris and Tim Montgomerie has simmered on. And turning up the temperature in the Times’ Red Box email this morning, Parris seemed to be getting rather catty: ‘I was pleased to be singled out by my friend and colleague, Tim Montgomerie, in yesterday’s throwaway “I’m looking at you, Matthew Parris”. In the course of these remarks, Tim also wrote this: “Political leadership … becomes impossible if a leader is not willing to give large majorities of his or her party’s natural supporters what they want. From a less well-intentioned speaker than Tim I would regard that as a disgraceful

‘There’s a little bit of a fascist in all of us. For some, the tragedy of human want may provoke an impatient urge to expropriate and centralise economic resources. Others, alarmed at the world’s exploding population, may be attracted by calls for a programme of mass compulsory sterilisation. But for me it’s letter boxes and street numbering. I want order. I want consistency. I want standards. And I want eye-watering penalties for property owners who try their fellow Britons’ patience and waste our time by making their addresses impossible to find.’ You may remember reading this from Matthew Parris in last week’s Spectator. When delivering leaflets in Derbyshire, he was

‘I am ceasing to tweet’ wrote Matthew Parris in The Times this morning. ‘Life’s too short,’ he said. ‘Reluctantly last year I was persuaded to venture into the twittersphere; and built a herd of followers; but (as Milton might have tweeted) the hungry sheep look up and are not fed.’ So what happened? It seems that Parris objects to the colonisation of Twitter by the global PR machine: ‘If you’re commissioned to write something these days, or perform in a debate, or whatever, the client emails asking you to tweet that you’ll be doing it, or have done it, or re-tweet someone else’s reference to it, or tweet positively about