Woman whose Dad died young tells us:
“If you lose a parent young, we all suffer from death anxiety, so you’re pretty much convinced everyone is going to die,” she says.
But everyone is going to die. The only issue is when.
Woman whose Dad died young tells us:
“If you lose a parent young, we all suffer from death anxiety, so you’re pretty much convinced everyone is going to die,” she says.
But everyone is going to die. The only issue is when.
Look at leaders of the Labour party since the sixties:
Harold Wilson: 1963-1976
James Callaghan: 1976-80
Michael Foot: 1980-83
Neil Kinnock: 1983-92
John Smith: 1992-94
Tony Blair: 1994-2007
Gordon Brown: 2007-10
Ed Miliband: 2010-15
Jeremy Corbyn: 2015-present
What this tells us is that Labour is naturally a left-wing, social engineering, highly statist party. A party that that will never naturally be a centrist party. (Going back before the sixties doesn’t change my opinion on this either.)
It takes a tremendous effort to drag the party to the centre. Tony Blair managed it with what was virtually an internal social revolution within the party. But it didn’t hold. Despite delivering the most sustained period of electoral success the party had ever seen, the party got fed up of centrism, forced Blair out, and once he was gone the whole ‘Third Way’ project quickly unravelled, with Brown taking it somewhat leftward, then Milliband further leftward, and then Corbyn back into loony left territory. The party decided that electoral success wasn’t as important as maintaining the rage.
It should also be noted that the reason Blair and Mandelson possessed the energy and strength of will to try to transform Labour was because they believed that they could deliver leftist aims under the guise of an apparently centrist party which had electoral appeal. To a large extent, they succeeded in this, winning multiple elections by masquerading as a centrist party, whilst quietly changing the country and taking it leftwards behind the scenes (on immigration, the EU, the Supreme Court, etc.). It is doubtful whether the New Labour people would ever have put so much effort in had they not believed that they would be able to enact structural changes that greatly benefited the left.
We’ve never seen any great desire on the part of Labour (either the members or the MPs) to become a centrist party because centrism what they believe in. At most we have seen the occasional desire on the part of a few Labourites to become a centrist party for the sake of winning elections. But even that is not a desire to be a sincere centrist government delivering centrist policies, but to be, as I claimed above, a government in power who can then force leftist policies onto the public, either openly or surreptitiously.
So history tells us that the odds are greatly against Labour becoming a centrist party again. Centrism is alien to Labour, whereas leftism is in its DNA. It takes a tremendous effort to drag it away from the left. So even if we momentarily put aside what the party is like now, and the context it finds itself in – I’ll discuss such things in another post soon – past experience tells us that a move to the centre is unlikely.
So I went to the December Midlands Libertarian Drinks (#ThirdWednesday) on Wednesday, and it was a rollicking success. So many people turned up that it was somewhat manic, but in a good way. The atmosphere was jolly, partly because of the festive season, and partly because everyone was very happy that Britain wasn’t going to become Venezuela just yet.
James Delingpole was there, mostly having his ear chewed off by various people, so I didn’t bother him too much, but got a few chats with him. Dick Delingpole, as nominal host, made sure he circulated. People from last time came again, and loads of new people also turned up. We had writers, wannabe MPs, army people, a BBC producer who has to stay under the radar, Conservative activists, theatrical types, a bunch of Libertarian party members, and whole load of ordinary working people who were just glad to find somewhere where they could talk about politics without having to check who was listening. And many others. In short, a whole range of people across the social spectrum who all got on well straight away and had a bloody good time. Some groups were talking earnestly about politics, some groups were just shooting the breeze about whatever they felt like, there’s no set conversation.
If you can’t make it to Worcester, I suggest you start your own #ThirdWednesday in a pub near you, or wait for someone else to do so (there’ll be a website set up soon with details). Wetherspoons are good places to use, because they’re so cheap, and are usually big enough for you to get your own area.
You don’t have to be a card-carrying libertarian, or even a libertarian at all. Or even conservative. You may even be an old Labourite. All you really need is to be someone who’s had it up to here with PC, identity politics, and wokeness. And the EU. And being called a Nazi. #ThirdWednesday is a place for people to come in, get a drink, and be able to talk in the common-sense way that they could twenty years ago. Where you can say you like Trump without losing your job. Where you can say that men are not women. That mass immigration is not a great idea. That you don’t have to have a degree to be eligible to vote.
That doesn’t mean you have to agree with everything I’ve just said (some Libertarians are relaxed about mass immigration, for example), but you are expected to have to argue for your view, and respect the fact that others are allowed to disagree with you, and not just declare that the debate is shut down and there will be a complaint with your HR department on Monday.
The sad fact is that, despite the Conservatives’ recent big win in the UK, despite Trump being US President, the culture war is still raging furiously, and the free speech-suppressing left is still on top. Boris might be PM, but a UK employment judge has just declared that calling a man a man is a belief “not worthy of respect in a democratic society”. You still have to be careful of what you say, and to whom. So #ThirdWednesday is like a ‘Speakeasy’, where you will be among friends and don’t have wonder about the Owen Jones and Ash Sarker’s in your midst writing down what you say.
Teenage gang lured gay men to city park on Grindr to rob and humiliate them in homophobic attacks
Which word do you need to substitute for which other word here to find out the real story?
From the minute he walked in with a joint
I could see he was a man of extinction
A real world-ender
Take a little shower for me.
At Richard Delingpole’s Worcester Libertarian Drinks last month he showed me some of his artwork, which he had in the form of cigarette cards. These were amazingly good, and, for someone who grew up on war comics, a delight to look at.
I suggest you head over to his artwork website and purchase some yourself. The prices are very good. I practically had to force Dick to put a proper price on a pack of cards which I wanted to buy. Here’s one from the pack that I’ve scanned:
That brings me to the other thing I wanted to say. Dick reminds me of a professional sculptor/artist I know. Both are high quality artists, with real skills. Both make things that people like. But neither are bullshit artists. Neither are showmen. (Dick doesn’t have the brazen chutzpah of his brother.) Neither fill their websites or catalogues with a lot of lofty abstract gas. (My friend has actually been forced to do a bit of that, but he keeps it to a minimum.) Both have an old-school modesty about them, where you let the art do the talking.
All this puts you at disadvantage in the modern art world. In fact, it always did, because self-promoters have always had an advantage in that world. But quiet craftsmen could still do well, up until modern art and then postmodernism took over the art world. Now the attention is all on those who make something terrible and then take a wizz on it, and then write some undergraduate bollocks about it, and their promoters then go spreading it around all their friends in the London and New York art cliques.
But, despite all that, my friend is still making a living outside of the trendy art set, selling to people who like good art but for whom a video of someone pooing on a Pope’s hat with large important words superimposed over the top doesn’t really do it for them. I hope that Dick also has success with his work, he deserves it, but that will require some word of mouth.
P.S. Dick’s Worcester Libertarian Drinks, aka #ThirdWednesday, is on again tomorrow. See his Twitter page for details.
Bercow paid staggering amount for Sky News election coverage
Actually, not so much that, as this:
Mr Bercow was hired as a lead pundit and Sky bosses hope he would boost viewing figures but he election night special was only watched by 45,700 people.
Less than 46 000 people watched Sky’s election night coverage. Less than the population of a small market town. All those decades of Sky News trying to dominate British TV, all ruined because Adam Boulton and Kay Burley decided to go all out for the left-wing viewers. As If left-wing viewers watch Sky TV!
At least there are some people at Sky who aren’t crazy:
A source at Sky said: “His huge payment is the talk of Sky News. Nobody could believe it.
Or are they?
“That said, he was on through the night
They made him work for that 60 grand! They weren’t going to let him get away with sneaking out after a couple of hours.
and, of course, has tremendous insight.”
Scrap what I just said about some people at Sky not being crazy.
I’m going to have more time in my diary now that I don’t have to do those re-education sessions with Lily Allen.
‘Same here, ‘says Douglas. ‘I wouldn’t have voted for Michael Foot, but you won’t catch me ever voting for the Conservatives.’
‘I voted for Blair,’ says Miles. ‘As did anyone with any sense.’
‘Indeedly-doodly,’ says Douglas. ‘I certainly don’t want to marry Milton Friedman. Keynes, maybe.’
‘Do you want to marry Milton Friedman, Ren?’ asks Miles.
‘Of course I do, you fucking fools. Milt’s the one man I’d go gay for.’
‘Really? There goes my theory about how you got your job,’ says Miles.
‘That was pure expediency. I just closed my eyes and thought of the pension. And the super-fast internet speed we academics get. Anyway, I’m going to get a T-shirt made up saying “Cum Dumpster for Milt”.’
‘You could borrow Miles’ shirt,’ says Douglas, ‘the one that says “Cum dumpster for Dad”, and cross out the “Dad” and write “Milt” instead.’
‘Well, well, well,’ says Miles, ‘Our northern chemist proves himself an impudent scoundrel.’
‘Impotent?’ says Ren.
‘When I come to your office, Dougy-boy,’ says Miles, ‘and find Beresford Sadler up to his balls in your sigmoid then don’t expect me to keep quiet.’
‘That’s right Douglas, you can expect him to join in,’ says Ren.
‘No prizes for guessing you’re all single,’ says Lily.
‘Well, we lack Jason’s refinement and erudition,’ says Ren. ‘That is to be admitted. Miles, in addition, lacks Douglas’ work ethic, which he has in place of talent, and Douglas lacks the confidence Miles has in asking for sex five minutes into a date.’
‘While Ren lacks Douglas’s tender touch with a vagina,’ says Miles.
‘Plus he has the disadvantage that his chosen field is about two thousand years out of date?’ says Lily.
‘Touche, fair lady,’ says Ren. ‘And touche, cheeky cunt.’
‘Well, those are my middle names,’ says Miles. ‘At least Cunt is. I’m having the Cheeky added by deed poll.’
‘Well, yes, we are all single,’ says Ren. ‘At least, I know I am, and simple induction tells me these two are as well. Pray tell, where does Jason hail from?’
‘Undergrad, Oxford. Postgrad, LSE.’
‘But where does he actually come from? Was he created in a lab?’
‘Surrey. In quite a good five-star lab.’
‘You are a bibacious lot,’ says Ren, noting the near-empty glasses. ‘Time for another round.’
‘It’s my shout,’ says Douglas. ‘Allow me. Plus I need a piss.’
When Douglas comes back with the drinks the sun comes back out. They’re all getting slightly crazed by the booze, banter and general merriment, and the heady but possibly unwarranted feelings of optimism about what lies ahead. They clink glasses in a toast.
‘Hear, hear for Grayvington,’ says Ren. ‘The only place stupid enough to employ us.’
‘Speak for yourself,’ says Douglas. ‘I had offers from Leeds, Glasgow and Durham.’
‘And you chose here? Are you insane? Why?’
‘I come from Leeds, and I want to feel like I’ve escaped it. Glasgow and Durham are too far away. I wanted to live in the south, where London’s not an age away. And Grayvington has a good physics department. And Garrett Slade is here, and I want to work with him.’
‘Economics is good here too,’ says Lily. ‘Is Philosophy not so good?’
‘Well, it’s okay as far as the analytic people go. The big problem with it is that it’s a split department. Lots of Continentalists. And they’re all shitheads. Plus there are some other shitheads as well, like the Head of Department. And Derek The Frog. So the shithead quotient is quite high.’
‘How’s Psychology?’ says Douglas.
‘It’s all right,’ says Miles. ‘Good cognitive people here for me to work with.’
‘I see you also have Lucius Birch,’ says Ren.
‘Who’s he?’ says Douglas.
‘I think I’ve heard of him,’ says Lily.
‘Big social psych guy. Flavour of the month amongst the New Statesman types. Gets his work into the newspapers.’
‘He’s a bit of an arsehole in person, though,’ says Miles.
‘A left-wing darling who’s an arsehole?’ says Ren. ‘That’s unheard of.’
‘He’s left-wing all right. That surprised me. I wasn’t expecting him to be so left-wing in person.’
‘Really?’ says Ren. ‘But all his research somehow, magically, supports left-wing conclusions?’
‘That just the way the research turned out.’
‘Is that so? So he’s Mr. Objective, and the world just happened to turn out to be left-wing?’
‘Well, yes. I don’t think he’s fiddling his data, if that’s what you’re implying.’
‘Who knows what’s he’s up to. But I would trust him about as far as Balderstone would be displaced by a kick up the bum from me. I mean, do you trust Balderstone? The Panopticons? Wetlands? Would you swear an oath that they’re objective and trustworthy?’
‘I guess not.’
‘Hell no,’ says Lily.
‘Hell no squared,’ says Douglas.
‘But they’re in bullshit fields, where you can say any old rubbish,’ says Miles. ‘I’m in Psychology. You can’t fiddle things there. Anything you put out has to go through peer review, where serious people check over your work.’
‘Well…’ says Lily.
‘What?’ says Miles.
‘It has to be said that most people in social psych are left-wing themselves.’
‘But…’ says Miles, trailing off.
‘Ren has a point,’ says Douglas. ‘It’s hard for a referee to sniff out fiddling data unless they start with an attitude of scepticism.’
‘Which they won’t have,’ says Ren. ‘He’s publishing what they want to hear. There’s no-one in that field who has any scepticism at all about that sort of research, so they just wave it on through.’
‘And it’s not necessarily even about fiddling data,’ says Lily. ‘It’s also about how you set things up, the assumptions you have, which may not get properly challenged when all your referees have the same mindset. That’s something we’re reasonably good at in Economics. It’s more mixed politically so there isn’t as much groupthink going on.’
‘No way,’ says Miles. ‘Lucius may be an arse, but he’s not crooked.’
‘Let’s hope for the sake of your department’s reputation that he’s not,’ says Lily.
Miles spots something which allows him to change the subject. ‘Fuck, look who it is.’
They all look around.
‘Who?’ says Douglas.
‘The tooth fairy?’ says Ren.
‘Your secret Latvian wife and three kids?’ says Lily.
‘No, they’re all safely stored away in organ banks,’ says Miles.
‘Including the tooth fairy?’ says Ren.
‘Look over there,’ says Miles, indicating with his head.
‘Jesus,’ says Ren, hastily looking away. ‘You could have warned us. I almost made eye contact. Could have been blinded.’
‘Oh,’ says Douglas. ‘What a pleasant surprise. The cream of our fellow Class of 2000 compatriots.’
Malcom Ascaris and Lenora Helminth are walking out of the bar with some other people, with drinks. They are about to sit down on the grass near the Lorenzos, when they see their TITE rivals out of the corner of their eyes just in time for them all to move on a safer distance away.
‘Who are they with?’ asks Douglas. ‘They all look the same as Malcom and Lenora, only a bit younger.’
‘Judging by the serious but self-satisfied looks they all have on such a lovely Friday afternoon I’d say that probably they’re postgrads from Politics and/or Sociology,’ says Lily.
‘I think the red Marx T-shirt that Mr. Groovy Stubble is wearing would confirm that deduction,’ says Miles.
‘It was an induction, not a deduction,’ says Ren.
‘And to think some people say philosophers are pedants,’ says Miles. ‘How unfair of them.’
‘Do you like it when non-psychologists get psychological terms wrong?’ says Ren, who doesn’t wait for an answer. ‘They are a tomentose lot. Especially the women.’
‘Comatose? Already?’ says Douglas.
‘Tomentose. Hairy,’ says Ren.
At this point a mustachioed man in his early-mid thirties, wearing camouflage trousers and a ‘Smash the State’ shirt, joins Malcom and Lenora’s group.
‘Fucking hell, it’s Tony fucking Shaver,’ says Ren.
‘Who’s he when he’s at home?’ says Miles. ‘I mean, apart from being the obvious saviour of society.’
‘When he’s not being the people’s poet, he’s a lecturer in my department. One of the delightful departmental adornments I was telling you about earlier.’
‘So if he wants to smash the state what would he do if someone goes over and punches him in the snozz?’ says Miles. ‘Call the police?’
‘Oh, he’s no anarchist,’ says Ren. ‘He’s just another hard leftist. They all pretend to be anarchists, because that seems cooler than saying that really you’re a big-state socialist conformist, who’ll ruthlessly prosecute his endless rules using a violent, knock-on-the-door-at-3am enforcement machine. That doesn’t pull as many chicks as saying you’re an “anarchist”. Except for the fat, hairy, angry ones, who want that sort of society too.’
‘People like him sometimes really do act like they want anarchy, though,’ says Lily.
‘Well, they do want temporary anarchy,’ says Ren. ‘That’s an old leftist tactic. And a fascist one too. Temporary anarchy provides them with the opportunity to take over, and then enforce their iron fist. Believe me, any such anarchy will be most fugacious. Look at how Soviet Russia got created. Jesus, I can’t even glare at the fucker, because I have to work with him. Time for more drinks, I think. Miles, will you do the honours this time?’
Miles comes back with drinks, crisps and peanuts. ‘Best to have some food with all this alcohol,’ he says.
‘A packet of crisps isn’t going to do much,’ says Lily.
‘I’ve still got some food in my backpack,’ says Douglas, who rummages around in it, before pulling out a banana.
‘The drunken monkey,’ says Ren.
‘Anyone want a bite?’ asks Douglas, to headshakes.
‘Drunken monkey indeed,’ says Miles. ‘I met a guy at a conference who was telling me about some new theory called the drunken monkey hypothesis.’
‘A theory about Douglas? How very prescient,’ says Lily.
‘It’s the theory that we primates developed a smell, and a taste, for alcohol because alcohol is a pretty reliable indicator of the presence of ripe fruit, because ripe fruit starts to ferment after a while.’
‘That’s true of the student bar,’ says Ren. ‘The young men have noticed the link between the alcohol and the presence of plenty of ripe fruit.’
‘You’re a ripe old fruit yourself,’ says Douglas.
‘Anyway, this theory may not be true,’ says Miles, ‘but it may be worth a grant application. Get funded to investigate why we like alcohol. Ren can be my first test subject.’
‘I’ll volunteer,’ says Lily. ‘if you can get a grant to test taste discrimination in alcohol imbibers.’
‘Sure,’ says Miles, ‘you can be at one end of the discrimination spectrum with your fine wines. Ren can be at the other end with his lager, and his vodka and lemonades.’
‘Let’s just get the University to let us set up our own Institute. The Institute for Advanced Alcohol Research,’ says Lily.
‘We’ve all had that idea,’ says Douglas.
‘I’ll be Professor of Beer Goggles,’ says Ren. ‘Miles can be Reader in Special Brew Studies. Lily can be Professor of Pencil Shavings and Hints of Chocolate. Douglas, Professor of Meths. Professor Douglas Oram, the distinguished creator of a whole new field, Methematics.’
‘Or should it be Methemetics?’ says Douglas.
‘Up to you old boy, it’s your field,’ says Miles.
‘Great. How do we put this plan into action?’ says Lily.
‘We leave the campus soon, for precautionary reasons,’ says Ren, ‘and then we drink copious amounts of alcohol in various hostelries around the city, repeating this procedure on numerous occasions, thus acquiring skills, knowledge and talents that the University and various grant-dispensing bodies will eventually be unable to ignore.’
‘A capital idea,’ says Miles. ‘As long as we can write the application on the back of a beer coaster.’
The SWP taking over Labour was always going to end up with Labour getting SWP-levels of voter support. The worry was, how many years would it take for that to happen? Would there be some brief interlude and unusual circumstances where they did well, won an election, and then rigged everything – votes at 16, votes for foreign nationals, maybe even votes for illegal immigrants – so they couldn’t be removed?
That didn’t happen, and let’s hope now that they sink and sink and sink and end up with five-men-and-a-dog-in-the-back-room-of-a-pub level of support, just like the SWP used to have.
If Corbyn wins today are we allowed to cancel the win on the grounds that no-one voted to be poorer?
Can we say, ‘People didn’t know what they were voting for’?
Should we have a second vote if it turns out that Corbyn or one of his team said something that was possibly untrue?
I’m often going on about Drummond’s Law, which is that the left always accuses the right of being up to the very thing that they’re up to (aka: ‘leftists always project’).
It seems that I didn’t take my own law seriously enough.
As we know, leftists are always calling right-wingers ‘Nazis’. We know that this is an instance of Drummond’s Law, because it’s the left who act like Nazis, especially the Antifa ones who dress in masks and black shirts and beat people up. But we should have taken the law more closely to heart. Nazis hate Jews, so the law tells us that Jew-hating is something the left will be up to. A few years ago, maybe even a year ago, I would have said that this is pushing Drummond’s Law too far. The left don’t hate Jews, right? Sure they may bend over backwards for Muzzies, but not that far. There’s a limit to the law.
But it turns out that a lot of them do hate Jews. It turns out that the worldview a lot of them have features hook-nosed Shylocks running the world’s banking systems, and the media, all for the purpose of bleeding dry the ordinary man, like the Martians in War of the Worlds who tossed humans into the baskets on their fighting machines so they could later drink their blood. (A worldview, as it happens, that is quite similar to that of a certain influential Austrian in the 1930s.) It turns out, in fact, that 34% of the United Kingdom intends to vote for an anti-semitic party. So maybe Drummond’s Law is not just a loose generalisation, but something stronger.
It would have been a bold. almost laughable, prediction a few years ago, but the left are morphing into the Nazis at a rate of knots, and the ‘caring’ media is cheering them on.
(a) The NHS doesn’t have anywhere near enough money to be able to deliver adequate services to the existing population.
(b) Let’s open the borders and let in millions of immigrants and give them free NHS care.
One issue that hasn’t been talked about at all in this election campaign is what a loss would do to the Conservatives. I’ve said many times that the Conservative base is pretty fed up with the party, and is voting for them mainly because of Brexit, and out of fear of a hard-left Labour party. But if the Conservatives can’t even win an election with Brexit on its side, and the worst opposition it’s ever faced, and a popular, optimistic, charismatic leader, then I’d say the future for it looks bleak.
One problem with losing is that the internal battle within the Conservatives will intensify. The wets will say that ‘We lost because we went right-wing under Boris and Cummings and well-loved One Nation MPs like Amber Rudd and David Gauke were forced out’. Whereas the right-wingers will say ‘We lost because we’re still not offering an alternative to Labour, we’re just another centrist statist party spending too much money’.
I would like it if one of these factions could finally gain control of the Conservatives. If the centrist wets gain control then the rest of us could just abandon the Conservatives. If the right gains control then the Conservatives can re-emerge as a real alternative to the other parties.
But what is likely to happen is what has always happened with the Conservatives, namely a lot of in-fighting that never gets anywhere, and prevents the Conservatives from being an effective opposition, which will allow Corbyn to wreak havoc on the country.
What has propped up the two main parties for a few years now is each other — many of their voters vote for them purely to keep out the other party. You can’t tell me that all of those middle-class Labour voters are really that keen on Jeremy Corbyn and John McDonnell. They’d probably much prefer the LibDems. It’s their irrational hatred of the Conservatives that drives them to vote Labour. It’s the same with many, many Conservative voters, who would prefer a less squishy party, but consider them the only way to keep out Labour.
That may lead you to think that many people will stay with the Conservatives as it will still be the only alternative to Labour, especially once the disaster that is a Labour government becomes clear, but I’m not so sure. If the Conservatives’s main attraction is that they keep Labour out, but they’ve failed in that role, then alternatives are going to be sought. And waiting in the wings will be Farage’s Brexit Party, newly reformed as the Reform Party.
Farage, of course, will have his own problems, most notably that if Labour win the election then a lot of people will blame him. That in itself may cost the the Reform Party a lot of support. But you’d still expect them to gain some popularity from people who want an alternative, and who see the LibDems as not an alternative, but as a distillation of the existing parties. Even if Reform got 10% support, that would sink the Tories.
But in the end it may be the hard left riding to the Conservatives’ rescue once again. By the time of the next election there’d probably be a majority desperate to kick Labour out, so assuming that Labour hasn’t rigged everything totally (votes for kids, votes for illegal immigrants, etc.), then the same old binary choice will be facing us: which party do we all go for to get rid of Labour? Do we stick with the Conservatives, or do we chuck them for some alternative?
There’s no way of predicting this is now — perhaps Reform will be brilliant and become the new sensible party within a year. Perhaps an amazing new party will spring up and captivate the right. Perhaps the LibDems will finally surge (although as Brexit will remain an issue under Labour, I wouldn’t bet on that). Perhaps the Conservatives themselves will have become a force under Johnson, bustling and bristling with energy and confidence having finally throwing off the shackles of the wets and the greens.
But perhaps – and perhaps this is more likely – it will just be business as usual, with the same old weak Conservatives limping along just ahead of their rivals, so the anti-Labour vote decides it has to be them again. So once again it would be the fear of the hard left that keeps lame One Nation Conservativism going.
Update: There’s also this worrying article from Ed West to think about:
even if the Tories do win a majority, they face serious future problems driven by demographic and social change. The sort of people who vote Tory are decreasing in number, ageing and not being replaced, while the lifestyle factors that lead people to vote for conservative parties are heavily in decline.
It has often been said that the young are dangerously Left-wing, and the received wisdom has always been that each generation becomes conservative as they grow wiser, or perhaps more jaded and cynical. Except with my age group and those younger, that isn’t true anymore; people in their 30s are not becoming more Right-wing as they get older, to quote Fr Ted; in fact, the reverse may even be happening, on both sides of the Atlantic.