Personal persectives

Thoughts caught in the moment,
challenging the confines of algorithms,
AI, and presumptive logic.

Starmer, a parrot caged in clichés

 To regain some popularity, Starmer must learn the difference between being diplomatic and being vacuous.

‘President Trump wants a just and lasting peace.’ ‘We all seek a just and lasting peace.’  ‘The president has set out a starting plan towards a just and lasting peace.’

No, he has not. Why not reflect what all western observers think, most of his electorate, and almost every Ukrainian, but do so diplomatically? A politician, and especially a leading one, needs an instinct for connecting and relating. To me, this one small example of his instinct for obfuscation demonstrates perhaps Starmer’s greatest weakness. He is more parrot than politician, nervously chirping cliches.

It is hardly surprising that later bulletins dropped Starmer’s comments in favour of the more relatable and less cowardly Macron and Merz. When our leader sidesteps on his perch, too nervous to even flap his wings, the UK is too easily ignored.

This is how the media works – with apologies to Tom Parker Bowles

When I was leading my Happerley project, I had a great relationship with Ben Webster, then Environment Editor at The Times. 

I shared some horrific truths and scandals regarding food labelling as we implemented our mark of transparency, sponsored by the Co-op. Ben was keen to expose the worst, but The Times plays safe, and he would always apologise for how cautious their in-house lawyers had become. 

One day, he called me about a sausage story, and I happened to mention that my team had just discovered a UK pork scratchings brand claiming 100% RSPCA UK-accredited free-range pork rind, when in fact it was an imported Danish product. They had just spoken to the Manchester importer. 

Ben consequently picked up that Tom Parker Bowles was invested, and it was the next day, or certainly close to it, when The Times page three was dominated by this story, with a picture of his Mother, our now Queen Camilla. 

For me, it was far from the scandals we had uncovered, and I felt it was unfair to Tom and his fellow brand owners, who were wholly unaware. However, for Ben, with an agenda to write grabbing copy at pace, with evidence in place, it was a fait accompli. 

The bigger scandals remain untold…

Now’s the time for the Commonwealth to step up

The time has come to dust off the Commonwealth institution and repurpose it as the global champion of democracy. 

As America’s moral leadership of the free world declines and authoritarian rulers grow in ambition, this is an undeniable opportunity for Britain to take a lead that no other country can. Is it just me who sees this as so obvious and necessary?

Where are the government brains to see this?!

Democracy, the greatest container of our rights and freedoms, is under threat from technology, polarised opinions, Trump, dictators, the declining influence of international bodies including the UN and – perhaps most worryingly- the growing disenchantment in politics across the youth. 

The Commonwealth comprises 56 independent democracies, representing a population of about 2.7 billion people. That accounts for roughly one-third of the global population. The UK has one of the longest-running parliamentary systems, with parliaments dating back to the 13th century.

Currently, some 40% of the global population lives under authoritarian governments. The proportion is growing. 

Come on, Britain, consolidate your soft power and deliver some leadership. Collectively champion democracy, the world needs us. 

Please Sir! feed me truth

Here we go again. It is all in the labelling. 

It is so cynical it’s cheesy. I have worked for various cheese clients. I know full well that cheese is matured to a flavour that launches a brand, commands shelf space, and synchronises with advertising. Then, trust secured, the product quietly slips its quality to yield its profit under the brand’s cover. When sales dip, a new, improved flavour or recipe arises. 

‘Our’. Humph. Now we see self-definition. What an opt-out word. 

Genius thinking is the new gold rush

There are no rules to being a genius; its definition is wholly subjective. But what we do know is that radical original thinking, able to surf against the AI wave, is becoming ever rarer and hence ever more precious. 

 That Elon Musk has recently secured a potential $1 trillion pay award from Tesla over the next decade recognises his genius, or at least his genius in securing such a wild remuneration.

 Geniuses think outside the box, but I believe the box springs open through a young child’s imagination, grown from boredom. 

 This is the problem. Childhood boredom hardly exists as emerging imaginations are increasingly trapped by algorithms and stifled by screens. Genius thinking becomes ever rarer still as AI trains young minds.

AI regenerates historic patterns, knowledge and talent. It cannot deliver genius. Only a genius provides the outlier difference. 

Trump – the new Clive of India?

Britain was once good at divide-and-rule. It is how we conquered India and large tracts of Africa. There was plenty of loot in it, too. Indeed, it funded and furnished the construction of many English stately homes of even greater grandeur than Mar-a-Lago’s.

Britain not only profited from the fight and faction, but also forced the peace in pursuit of long-term gain. But they were warring times, before two world wars burst our appetite for any more, in favour of self-determination. 

Trump’s definition of ‘peace’ feels neo-colonial. His instinct is to ally with the power with whom he can best partner and profit, rather than the people. Must the Palestinians and Ukrainians soon tug their forelocks, as the Indians once did to the British?

Who was Clive of India?
He was the architect of Britain’s early empire in India. Brilliant, ruthless, ambitious, and deeply divisive, he established British supremacy, but also opened a chapter of colonial exploitation.

His methods relied heavily on coercion, manipulation, and political interference. Critics blame him for contributing to famine, poverty, and long-term economic decline in Bengal. In Britain, Parliament accused him of corruption and looting, and his reputation never fully recovered.

It’s an invasion, stupid!

No wonder Brits feel browbeaten. If our governments are so nervous, apologetic and hesitant in securing our sovereign borders, why should the people feel any better? Sometimes, perhaps just occasionally, populism is nothing more than common sense. 

Once considered the world’s bully, we now find ourselves the bullied – a source of shame in both instances. 

It’s high time we prioritise common sense over fear and take a new, more assertive approach to our border control policies. 

It’s not just about the costs we bear due to permeable borders. It’s about the very essence of our nationhood that we’re losing.

A proud country has proud borders, yet we have discarded all the advantages of being an island nation out of nervous fear of what others might think. We are now drifting toward a feeble imitation of what a small country like Denmark has confidently put into practice.

The UK can and should go one step further; it must draw a firm line in the sand and make it clear that, starting from a specified future date, we will actively defend our shores against what is undeniably an invasion of illegal migrants. 

The endless flow of illegal migrants is no longer threatening to undermine Britain. It is. We cannot count on the French being much help, or Europe for that matter. 

We should reserve the right to shoot or detain in a barbed camp for a minimum of ten years anyone who attempts to enter the UK illegally.

And guess what? The boats cease overnight, and the problem resolves without anyone getting hurt. Deterrents work, as they have, thank goodness, with nuclear weapons.

To those who argue that such measures are cruel, I would assert that it is far more brutal to reduce the overseas aid budget or to deny genuine refugees we know to be fleeing great danger and who apply through proper channels, simply because we are overwhelmed by those who choose to buy passage from human traffickers.

It is even more cruel to dent our nation’s capacity to deliver our poorer families the housing, education and healthcare they seek for the sake of invaders.

I also wonder how many criminal gangs, terrorists, and covert operatives are arriving here by boat for free full board? Russia now advances further into Ukraine through infiltration by groups of two or three – often dressed as civilians. 

Thinking the unthinkable is no longer a conspiracy

While I’ve never been one to entertain conspiracy theories, I’ve found myself contemplating the possibility of extraterrestrial visits, the unspoken influence of Israel on the American government, and even their potential involvement in the assassination of Charlie Kirk. 

As a child, the world seemed straightforward, orderly, and foreseeable. I had a vision of life as a linear path: institutions were steadfast, governments were reliable, politicians were paragons, and marriage was a lifelong commitment. 

I remember the adult put-down when I asked why we did not simply print more money to be richer (it later happened, of course). I enjoyed a childhood shaped by the understanding that the boundaries of what was ‘possible’ were fixed and safe. 

Today, the well-regulated and curated avenues of news and truth, from the BBC to The New York Times, are being swamped by uncontrolled blogs, podcasts, and YouTube channels. 

A broadcaster is no longer a profession, but a daily possibility for everyone. Legacy media is no longer perceived as a conduit of truth but a contortionist of authenticity (unless you agree with their content, of course!).

Today, news is no longer a shared experience but a filtered, personalised inflation of our current opinions, served up on our phones by an algorithm. 

If aliens exist, the sheer volume of online bickering between bedroom broadcasters will surely attract even more visitors. 

The distillation of reality is discovered by weighing all truths in silence and consideration. In today’s world, we have little time for that. It is (or was), after all, the purpose of journalists. Now, it seems, algorithms push us to our assumptions.

From the traditional reliance on Institutional trust, we have now transitioned to the era of algorithmic truth, a shift that has significantly altered our understanding of reality.

Three deer and a lesson in calm

Three Roe Deer have made camp in our orchard. Every drive past triggers them to statuesque stillness and stare. Their instinct of survival is my joy to eyeball. 

As I pass, they return to graze as though nothing happened. But should I leave the car, their taut muscles explode into an extraordinary rush of leaps and… they are gone! 

When the world rustles, the deer never panics but blends into its surroundings, allowing its senses to gather the truth.

Momentary stillness is not passivity but an innate intelligence we might have forgotten.

Podcasts – the saviour of conversation?

Throw two people together of contrary political colours and out comes some common sense, washed of vitriolic binary into warm and wearable. The result can be unpredictable, but when the mix is correct, it’s a rare magic. There are few better examples than Alastair Campbell & Rory Stewart’s The Rest is Politics. 

Since the advent of RSS in 2003, the podcast phenomenon has experienced exponential growth. Last year, this became an estimated £25 billion global business, and by 2030, forecasts predict it will exceed £100 billion. 

But the podcast definition is already blurring its own colours. Today, over one billion people watch podcasts on YouTube every month, as they increasingly capture our visual attention too. Just as authors once only required our eyes but now offer content for our ears as well, through platforms like Audible, the podcast is also evolving through the media landscape. 

The primary shape of the podcast remains true. It is a simple, authentic expression of real people and honest opinions, openly expressed with unpredictable results in a live stream. 

As brands and businesses seek authenticity, the marketing opportunities across this media continue to grow. The most significant value lies in the first-move advantage. The dangers lurk in the risks of investing in new mixes.

It is only hindsight that reveals the colours of the wash, by which time the fuel has burned. 

For example, we can reasonably assume that Fuse Energy has generated (and continues to) spin significant value through its relationship with The Rest is Politics. But that is the worthless value of hindsight. 

There are many more opportunities to explore and test, as it is a low-cost and exciting medium for entry or personal brand extension.

For those simply watching or listening, it is reminiscent of being a little child watching the magic of a washing machine spinning, waiting to see what comes out. 

It’s not a working class, it’s a survivor class.
And they are profitable.. for some.

 I am working on a commercial project to give voice to what was once referred to as ‘the working class’. But where is it?

I see a thriving layer of hardworking performers who, in the past, were defined by what they produced. Now, they are more often identified by what they consume, with their aspirations feeding into mass consumerism.

Yet, look deeper and you’ll find a growing underbelly of individuals I have decided to call the “survivor class.” This group lacks a voice and a sense of belonging. They are frustrated, despondent, and resentful.

An industry has emerged that encourages them to seek belonging through brands, hope through gambling, sustenance through ultra-processed ‘treats,’ emotional resilience through alcohol, and survival through short-term loans.

Numerous media outlets are capitalising on this group’s resentments by fueling their outrage and enticing them with unattainable lifestyles. These targets live increasingly isolated lives, relying more and more on virtual experiences to provide any sense of depth to their existence.

With the rise of AI, the survivor class is likely to continue growing. If there was ever a time for a spiritual reawakening, its members are certainly ripe for it. Until then, they will feast on conspiracy theories. That has become yet another industry.

Communities should not be quarry

Today was the opening meet of the Cotswold Vale Farmers Hunt, next door. A merry social occasion, always hosted by a local family farmer.

184 fox hunts thrive in the UK today. How many existed before the fox hunting ban? About 184. Of course, they now follow trails, but this demonstrates the critical importance of these social communities to rural life.

That so many people continue to delight in trying to disrupt and spoil these hunts now flips over onto those killjoys that famous quip of Oscar Wilde: ‘The unspeakable in pursuit of the uneatable’.

Admit it, meditation is prayer. 

Perhaps it is now a generational thing, but ‘meditation’ seemed a bit faddy to me. That is, until I recognised it as a refashioning of prayer.

Prayer sounds somewhat old-fashioned. It works, though. Back in 2013, I discovered it for real when speaking to Dad behind a packed church, ahead of delivering his eulogy. If only I had continued the conversation.

I suggest to anyone who is feeling the anguish of bereavement, talk to them through prayer. I lost my best friend, pictured, during the lowest and most confusing point of my life. I have just resumed talking to him through prayer. I had told him I would when I was better. Kev listens, laughs, and tells me the truth. Soul to soul.

I believe that in this life, we need to pray (or meditate – take your pick).

Leading articles