‘Disgusting, untrue and racist…much like yourself’

‘A man is dead because of uneducated trash like yourself’

‘Scum’

‘Nothing to say Adam?’

The above four lines are WhatsApp messages recently sent to me as part of a torrent of abuse. You might be wondering what I did to warrant such an onslaught. I didn’t use racial slurs or send abusive or offensive messages to or about the former Cambridge professor and career charlatan Jason Arday, whose death the second text refers to.

The spur for the vitriol was an update I made to my WhatsApp status, a function I very seldom use, but that I sometimes do from time to time if I feel that something is interesting. I posted a video by Carl Benjamin: The Suicide of Jason Arday; it sent a relative into a crazed and deranged state.

She didn’t have to view my WhatsApp status; this was something she chose to do. I have only met her once; she is the cousin of my dad. I have been in contact with her over the last year or so to discuss tracing our ancestry but we had no prior acquaintance. During my first phone conversation with her, in the early part of 2025, we discussed a potential link to a major aristocratic family. My Ancestry DNA matches connects me to people who record members of this dynasty in their family trees. My late grandfather also said some things that correspond to the DNA findings.

As is common when investigating ancestry, on one particular line, we had hit a dead end, at an ancestor born in the early nineteenth century. When on the phone, she started to talk about the Victorian period more generally and possible paths to explore to overcome this hurdle. It wasn’t long before she said she was a feminist, and her description of the Victorian era was very much from this angle. While she made some reasonable points, I felt her emphasis was indicative of a particular worldview. When we were talking about my great-grandfather four generations back, who was born in 1833, she speculated that he might have been a drunk despite there being absolutely no biographical material whatsoever on which such a claim could be based. I politely pushed back against this without making a big deal of it or challenging her views to any significant degree. After all, we were not in contact to talk about our politics or personal beliefs. And I am generally able to build a rapport with those who think differently provided they don’t try to impose their views on me.

Prior to this conversation, she told me about tracing our ancestry along a different line to that noted above. From the tree she directed me to on Ancestry, I could see that she had managed to go back some way along my grandfather’s side. However, when I questioned one link from the early modern period, where someone listed as an ancestor had no recorded mother or record of birth, she became very defensive and told me she had supporting documentation; nothing of this kind was shared with me. Maybe she does have a credible source. The link I queried was very plausible given geographic details, but it was not conclusive from the information I had. Not long into getting to know her, it was clear she wouldn’t be easy to deal with. Whenever I probed reasonably, she was defensive again, and I knew it would not be productive to prod further. I sensed in her at least some degree of mental instability at this stage.

As time went on, I noticed many leftist updates to her WhatsApp status, which I saw pop up on my feed, but I hardly ever clicked on these. The posts included evidence of support for the grotesque ‘Stand up to Racism’ and Your Party organisations. I did not respond to any of these posts, and remained happy to cooperate for the purpose of ancestral research.

I had made some small progress on the family tree. I discovered the occupation of my ancestor born in 1833 and the name of his father. A census record I found provided household details and pointed to economic circumstances. All that my relative had contributed to the search at this time amounted to nothing more than supposition.

Evidence of her oddness came at a family event in the later part of 2025. She attended, spoke to people briefly, and took a phone call while eating. After finishing her meal, she announced that she had to leave due to an urgent family matter. I don’t totally discount that there was some truth to this, but I think it's unlikely; the whole thing felt very staged. Had she genuinely received an emergency call that required her to leave the function and attend someone in need, I would think that any such conversation would be short and to the point and not last for about twenty minutes and conveniently end after consuming the last chip on the plate. Afterwards, scepticism over her exit and fleeting appearance was expressed by others; I smelt a massive pile of bullshit. In the very brief contact I had with her at this event, she expressed surprise when I did not work out who she was despite the fact that I had never seen her before and no one had made an introduction.

I had another phone conversation with her in either the autumn or winter of 2025. She claimed to have traced a link to the aristocratic family we had discussed, but she did not specify the name of an individual or present evidence of this. She relayed this information in a heightened emotional state and proved impervious to any attempt I made to obtain a proper explanation. She was bizarrley accusatory in asking about my motives for wanting to know more about this potential link and suggested I was seeking money out of it. I was taken aback by this and her unduly intense manner. I said that I was curious to know more about my lineage, like most people who do work on their family tree. If I were to establish a direct link to a scion, the idea that I would have any claim to anything they have seems ridiculous. Furthermore, the suggestion that I would even want to exploit such a link for financial gain was disgraceful. In hindsight, I took less offence at this than was merited. I did suggest meeting to discuss what she had found out in a more suitable way, considering that perhaps I might be able to reason with her more easily in person. She mentioned her fleeting appearance at the family function and said something like, ‘‘You had your chance then.’’ Not only was that function not really the time or the place to delve into the nebula of family ancestry, after her arrival, she left almost in a flash. And I did wonder, who the fuck does she think she is? Leftist narcissism is a very real thing. I believe this was the last conversation I had with her; she was just too difficult to work with to merit my persistence. I will do the work on my ancestry without her.

Save for some text exchanges, I didn’t have much contact with her until the abusive messages came just after 7.am one morning a couple of weeks back. In addition to her appalling language, she resorted to several laughing emojis. I wasn’t shocked to receive some abuse, but the level of vitriol and mode of behaviour of someone who I’m told is well into her fifties was quite surprising. If a teenager behaved like this, any reasonable adult would tell them to grow up. And her lunacy became even worse.

Adam…you still lying about your imaginary degrees

🤣 🤣 you lied about your own academic qualifications

These two messages were the most bizarre. I was later told her claims were based on me not going into great detail when she asked about modules I did during my masters and me not having more knowledge of ancestral research; this completely lacks reason. None of the conversations I had with her necessitated a deep dive into my studies. And in my experience, when meeting people and discussing university, it is rare for someone to go into precise detail about every aspect of their course; in fact, I don’t think I’ve ever encountered a person who has done this. As for the second point, I studied history and not genealogy. And even genealogists need to work hard and can’t just summon a magic bullet. Admittedly, I’ve yet to devote the time to this that I know I should, but it’s not as if she has been spending her days going through archives either.

Perhaps her thinking behind making ridiculous claims about my academic record was due to desperation as much as mental instability and emotional incontinence. Arday was outed as a serial cheat and conman, and maybe she sought a white equivalent. Convincing her disturbed mind that I am some kind of white version of the liar might have served a psychological need. But on the mental workings of leftist lunatics, I am no expert and can’t say whether this is the case. I did think of sending across images of my degree certificates with a few choice words, but what is the point in exchanging text messages with someone who is so inimical to reason?

It was a very moderate piece from Benjamin that ignited her anger. He relays some of Arday’s grandiose claims which have either been proven to be false or not supported by any evidence. Benjamin noted that Arday was unduly elevated because he was black and had a story the leftist establishment and media liked. In appointing him, they saw themselves as ‘‘saving the world, fixing the world.’’ What cogent argument against this analysis is there?

The video notes the very disproportionate positive press coverage the charlatan received after becoming the youngest ever black professor at Cambridge University. Zara Sultana MP said that were he white and middle-class, the press treatment of Arday as news about the scandal emerged wouldn’t have been what it was. Benjamin countered this by pointing out that Arday wouldn’t have become an academic if he wasn’t black, and it’s true that he was desperately under-qualified. It’s difficult to imagine a white equivalent getting this far and even if this were to happen, it's even more difficult to imagine him or her being kept in post in the face of ineluctable evidence of intellectual incapacity. Cambridge had opportunities to remove Arday from his professorship long before his resignation.

Benjamin notes the “pure tribalism” from the left who didn’t give a toss about Henry Novak, Rhiannon Whyte, Wayne Broadhurst, Aaron Dugmore, and countless other victims of limitless alien crime. The video responds to comments and evidence in the public domain. Benjamin does not mock the suicide or resort to nastiness in any way. Maybe for my relative, the segment rang painfully true.

The abuse I received is in keeping with trite leftist tropes. They routinely associate those who dissent from their worldview with waste. Words like ‘disgusting’ and ‘trash’ are examples of this. They prefer to dehumanise rather than debate. And of course, they like to think of themselves as more educated than their opponents. It’s more the case that they are educated beyond their intelligence and that a university degree is often as indicative of indoctrination and unreason as anything else.

Assigning blame for Arday’s death to those who exposed his deception does not stand. He knew what he was doing when cheating the system, but we shouldn’t forget that his liberal bosses let him down by keeping him in post despite his fantastical stories and the warnings about his unsuitability. A path of redemption was the alternative to suicide. I think it is sad that he did not choose the former.

Does anyone here have any cretinous relatives with ridiculous ideas about life, politics, and culture?

Likes, comments, and restacks are appreciated.

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Steven is keen but wary. He looks at once expectant and unsure. He stands at the Apothecary's door, and it’s unclear if he lacks the boldness to enter or whether he is weighing up his options.

“How do you tell him apart from the other ones?” asks a customer.

“He’s missing a web from one of his feet” comes the reply from the staff member as she provides Steven with food of some kind. The bird flutters his wings and moves away from the entrance to descend on the offering; the doorway is now clear.

The Apothecary, Rye, is an independent eatery/coffee shop that pleasantly contrasts with the tiring sameness of major brands that dominate the cities. And a regularly visiting seagull is not the only thing that marks it out from the outlets that I’ve seen before. I sit in what I think is a Louis XVI style chair, which is one of a number in view. A wooden table rests to my side, and a bench indistinguishable from what one would find in a church abuts a wall. A devotional neo-Gothic sconce is overhead. The place is quite a contrast to the same old Costa branches that abound up and down the land. Patches of bare floor here and there and fraying furniture in places don't diminish the charm of the wonderful old world feel in this pleasant space.

I eat for a reasonable price and recommend the brie and bacon sandwich. They slice the bread thick. Seldom have I had bread this thick when eating out, and a nice change it was. It’s quite rare to receive a generous return for money spent and food given nowadays, save for Toby Carvery.

Thankfully, the clientele is agreeable too. I see locals, domestic tourists, and a smattering of visitors from the Anglosphere at the shop during my visit. An English sensibility is in evidence; there is no obnoxious playing of electronic devices or needlessly elevated tones that one encounters with depressing consistency in ‘‘enriched’’ parts of the country. On two occasions, other customers consider my enjoyment of the space with a politeness that is vanishingly rare in demographically disfigured dumps, like much of London. A couple with kids sit next to me to eat, and the mother politely apologises for a bit of noise as I read. Someone else says sorry to customers for the brief crying aloud of a baby. In both instances, the volume is understandable and not prolonged, and yet those causing it have the decency to think about others. Contrast this with cities in Britain where recent arrivals often shout at each other and into speakerphones. I know what I would like to experience less and more of.

The July sun blazes gloriously as I journey to the Rye Waterworks Micropub. Nearly a year has gone by since I found it, and I shouldn't have left it so long to return. Older furniture and playful nick-knacks such as advertising boards from yesteryear and cricket pads give the place a warm and cheery feel. Whereas a ‘proper pub’ often carries with it a degree of formality, this micropub offers a decidedly light and fun vibe. The crown jewel of this pub, as far as I am concerned, at least for now, is Biddenden Cider.

The wine cider weighs in at 8.4%. Produced in the village of Biddenden near Ashford in Kent, this drink is smooth, sharp, has the texture of wine, and a subtle apple tinge. It is a wonderful idea, but at 8.4%, you don’t need a lot of it.

I go for a half at the Mermaid Inn and a half at Ye Olde Bell, and then I go back to the Waterworks. I’m soon talking about George Orwell and his Down and Out in Paris and London (1928). The book is a moving insight into severe poverty and brutal working conditions. The extent to which Orwell, who by his own description was lower-upper middle class, went into this grim world and the adventure of life on the edge is impressive, even if his account is embellished, as I suspect.

If you come to Rye, the twelfth century church of St Mary the Virgin (made a Grade I listed building in 1951) is well worth a visit. Cosy pre-modern structures, including a suitably traditional tearoom, flank the uphill route to its entrance. You’ll find fine stained-glass windows inside, and outside quaint cottages enrich a serene churchyard with old world beauty. I relax here for a while, although the experience is not completely unblemished. For between thirty seconds and a minute, someone from the other side of the world comes by on the adjacent road and speaks loudly into his phone. The lack of grace and appreciation some of these people have for the customs of this land and the sensibility of the natives can be infuriating. And it only takes one orc to disturb the peace of the shire. Such instances are unfortunately the norm in our metropolitan centres, but in Rye, the instance was conspicuously incongruent with the character of the area, which is wonderfully English. Winchelsea is my next destination.

Whereas Rye attracts tourists, (albeit without being an overly touristy place), and has some bustle about it despite being tranquil, Winchelsea feels like a quiet English village but is a town, and an ancient one too, accorded by statute and by its position as a Head Port within the Confederation of the Cinque Ports.

That Winchelsea was built to withstand attack from the sea is evident from its medieval town gates. Strand Gate, at the top of a hill, dates from the early fourteenth century. Pipewell Gate suffered a Spanish raid in 1380 and was rebuilt in either 1399 or 1404, according to the Winchelsea Official Town Guide. It took its name from the Pipe Well at the foot of a hill and was the scene of a remarkable escape involving Edward I.

When visiting to inspect Winchelsea and its fleet, ‘his horse, frightened by a windmill, leapt the bank which topped the hill and disappeared from sight. The King, however, kept the saddle and was able to ride back through Pipewell Gate to the relief of all. The event is commemorated as ‘the King’s Leap’ both in Winchelsea and English folklore.’

The Court Hall dates from the thirteenth century. Its first owner, Gervase Alard junior, was appointed Admiral of the Fleet of the Cinque Ports three times by Edward I. The hall later became a home of bailiffs. In 1655 the Winchelsea corporation moved their court hall from what is now a garden at the entrance of the building and established it in the upper room of the building where the museum currently rests. The lower floor became the town prison, and the garden was its exercise yard. The corporation owns the place today, and every year on Easter Sunday, the new mayor is sworn in inside the ancient house, which continues as a living and breathing manifestation of our heritage.

The building of Winchelsea's Church or St Thomas the Martyr commenced in 1288. Like the ancient church in Rye, there is fine stained-glass inside. When strolling through its grounds it is pleasing to find a service going on. As parishioners exit, I step inside, contemplate the surroundings, and make a donation before leaving. Before leaving the churchyard, a couple of people walking dogs say hello. A warm receptiveness to strangers seems to prevail here.

Such is the mode of modernity that even relatively remote places are not very far from busy main roads, and Winchelsea has some major highways around it. I start to use Google Maps to get to my accommodation, the pavement stops suddenly after a short walk, and I am led into oncoming traffic. I’ve never encountered a hotel without any pedestrian path leading up to it until this. I look to see if there is a safe way to get to my destination, but there isn’t. I keep myself on a bit of grass to the side and vehicles roar past. I go back onto the street after checking in to my room, and I tell myself that there must be a less perilous way of getting back into Winchelsea's centre. Down a left turn, I see signs of a safe passage. Trees and bushes flank a short concrete path which stops at a metal gate. I go through it onto a country walkway and a picturesque view abounds. Hills, trees, cattle, and sun-kissed grass combine to form an idyllic English landscape. The sun goes down around 9pm, it is quite a sight.

Perhaps I can learn a lesson from finding a beautiful country route by my own eye rather than via Google Maps. So often we are attached to our devices, turning to it for solutions. Maybe we miss a lot by forgetting to look around and consider what good things might be right before us. Although I think the smart phone is a net good, it can become too consuming at times and immoderate use can be unhealthy. Walking by sprawling green and pleasant land and experiencing the serenity it brings, I reason that I should unplug more often.

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In The Quaker Question: Exposing the Sect That Really Rules the World, Edward Dutton and J.O.A Rayner Hills investigate the influence of this group on society and compare Quaker traits to those of contemporary leftists. In what is an informative and amusing work, the following interesting observation is made on alcohol and English society: ‘In England, by drinking with your friends in a pub you are signalling your membership of the community, you are reinforcing ties with the ancestors and with England’s history by engaging in the same social rituals that the ancestors did, and you are, in that sense, dissolving into the English as a loyal member of the tribe.’

While the role of social drinking in facilitating communal bonds is axiomatic, its capacity to reinforce ancestral ties is probably considered less. The setting of the pub allows the English to drink in the same places that our forebears did, as many of our establishments are hundreds of years old. Old architectural forms, imagery, and references to past historical figures, events, and customs inform a sense of continuity with our ancestors.

The writers claim that the consumption of alcohol, rather than just the fact of ritualistic drinks with friends, is all-important in ‘fostering a cooperative, high-trust society,’; they argue a refusal to drink alcohol and prefer water is ‘offensive.’ Alcohol can help people relax and get into a positive social spirit, but drinking it is not necessarily essential for the purpose. I know some people who attend pubs and refrain from alcohol without being any less a part of the social experience. This is an important point because there is an idiocy that some display when asking people to account for why they might prefer to have a soft drink, as if it were their business what you consume. A decision to abstain could be made for a number of reasons; one could have an important engagement the next day, just not fancy alcohol there and then, or need to manage their alcohol intake due to having a number of engagements in a given week. While alcohol can definitely help people to bond and be good for creating group cohesiveness, those who drink all the time might damage their health, and in doing so, undermine the fitness of the collective.

Although the fanaticism on this point can be a bit disturbing, and there are haughty teetotallers who criticise people for enjoying a drink, the example the authors provide of a founding Quaker, George Fox (1624-1691), shunning a drinking game does not squarely fall into this category. Fox’s cousin and his cousin’s friend invited him to get drunk at a fair in Atherstone, Warwickshire. They made getting drunk and toasts into a game where the first person to stop drinking beer because of being too drunk has to pay for what was consumed. Fox refuses to participate, slams money on a table, and storms off. Dutton states that this was performative, and he could be right, but it might also have been sincere. In any case, the lark is a stupid one. While Fox’s reaction seemed over the top, there was nothing wrong with his rejection of the invite.

The book makes reference to Quaker temperance undertaken ‘to promote a virtuous alternative to alcohol,’ and notes the influence of this sect in the trade of sweets and chocolate by Joseph Fry (1728-1787), John Cadbury (1801-1889), and Henry Rowntree (1838-1883). The latter two established philanthropic model villages, and the authors suggest these charitable developments had a sinister motive that were not without costs if you were a non-Quaker. Alcohol was rejected, behaviour of residents was strictly monitored, there was isolation from the joys of the towns, and expectations to participate in Quaker events. Employees ‘lived in a kind of Quaker commune’. Even if Quaker demands were excessive or extreme, they were by no means the only religious sect to impose harsh restrictions on those who came under their sway. And although the book highlights some significant ways in which Quaker influence has been negative, their hypocritical attacks on hierarchy while tending to institute their own order being an example, their endeavours in the cause of sweets and chocolates should not count as marks against them. The authors make passing reference to committed Mormons, who also reject alcohol and meet for dessert. Perhaps some lessons can be learnt from what can seem like strange religious sects if we make sure to oppose their overbearing and overzealous sides.

While there is so much to love about the pub and alcohol, and enjoyment of it can be conducive to strengthening community and forming bonds, there is no reason why alternatives cannot serve a like function. The elegant tearooms up and down the country are fine choices, and maybe we could do with more of them or something similar to the Tory and Whig coffee houses of centuries past. In the absence of community centres that cater specifically to the English, a wider variety of places we can call ours would be welcome.

My latest piece is up at The Critic and can be found via the link below. It explores some of the reflective and cultural writings of Peter Hitchens, Mark Steyn, and Douglas Murray

https://thecritic.co.uk/sometimes-look-on-the-bright-side-of-life/

Takeaway or out of home coffee generates an annual revenue of £6.1 billion per year in Britain.1 Obviously, those opposed to the remorseless trends of globalised homogeneity would sooner buy a coffee from an independent store than a major corporation. But regardless of whether one dislikes the dominating chains, their ubiquity has a significant impact because the substantial space they occupy provides ample opportunity to convey a range of ideas to so many people. Major high street coffee shops are not only places for getting a drink, they promote distinctive values and ideas. What do these brands convey through their messaging and aesthetics? What significance might your nearest coffee shop have beyond being a place where drinks are sold? A survey of the cultural and social positioning of the top five coffee shops in Britain reveals a number of interesting differences and some similarities.

The decision of Costa to celebrate the amputation of healthy breasts led to a huge backlash in 2023. A photograph of the coffee chain’s express van went viral due to its depiction of someone with mastectomy scars on their chest.2 The trans-mastectomy episode is a strong indicator of a ‘progressive’ stance, and you might not be surprised to learn that the brand is owned by The Coca-Cola company, which advised its employees to be ‘‘less white’’ back in 2021 (Costa was founded in 1971 in London by the Italian Costa brothers).3 The company is the top takeaway coffee brand in Britain with an estimated 38.3% market share according to Lumina Intelligence, whose findings this piece relies on.4

Despite their positioning, leftist cultural posturing is not usually an overt part of the Costa consumer experience. Customers are not generally confronted with contentious messages, and the chain provides interchangeably globalised, nondescript spaces. Billed as the ‘nation’s favourite’ coffee shop, the brand’s aesthetic leans towards accessibility, simplicity, the display of promotional offers, and casual indulgence.

Costa does not attempt to bind itself with success or positive social status, and their aesthetic is unlikely to excite aspiration. Their logo, with its thick but basic and unimposing font, features an S in a wavy and relaxed style that corresponds with the down-to-earth positioning that the company affects. Unfortunately, the chain sometimes plays fast electronic music, which often has an obnoxious base, too loud; this does not support reflection and relaxation.

What about its closest competitor in Britain? Starbucks was founded in the same year as Costa by Jerry Baldwin, Gordon Bowker, and Zev Siegl. Howard Schultz joined the company in 1982 and purchased it in 1987 before it became the number one coffee chain globally. The brand has an 18.7% share of the domestic market.5 Like its rival, the company has a public image consistent with a leftist stance, and this appears in some typical references to diversity etc, but they do without signalling this forcefully.

Starbucks makes a clear effort to facilitate work and study. In addition to the roomy seating areas conducive to socialising, the shops contain several spaces for laptop use. They have a businesslike, city-office-type feel, which signals to urban professionals. It is geared more towards longer stays and work meetings than Costa is.

Their generic, globally interchangeable image is similar to Costa’s, and like their rival, they sometimes play fast electronic music, which often has an obnoxious base, too loud.

Caffe Nero is the third most successful coffee shop in Britain with a 9.1% share of the domestic market.6 They were founded in 1997 by American businessman Gerry Ford. Nero has a more discreet image and does not seem to align with global leftism in any meaningful way. This more neutral posture makes room for a traditional Italian coffee shop ambience, which in one way manifests through wall images. A dark board behind the counter reveals prices and products in white font, evoking the traditional black board and white chalk. It has a more genuine quality than the neon displays favoured elsewhere. Darker decor and muted lighting create a cosier and calmer atmosphere than the more energetic arrangement chosen by Starbucks and Costa. Sometimes the seating arrangements at Nero are a tad tighter than elsewhere, and this is consistent with a more intimate style.

Nero signals that it is a cultured choice. Their website has a journal section containing articles about musicians, and the chain hosts a book awards event.7 Luxuriant imagery displaying alternative drinks often distinguishes the brand impressively from competitors, and this nourishes the more elevated presentation that Nero skilfully curates.

In addition to the black lettering and blue background design that identifies their outlets, another sign with brighter letters on a black background signals strength and sophistication. This intensity contrasts with the louder Starbucks logo and the more down-to-earth branding that Costa prefers. The company does not meaningfully distinguish itself from Costa and Starbucks in the music they play save for occasional Classical offerings, which are refreshing alternatives to the usual inappropriate sounds.

With a 7.1% share of the domestic market8, Pret a Manger (founded in 1986 by British entrepreneurs Julian Metcalfe and Sinclair Beecham and owned today by German investment fund, JAB Holding Company), is the fourth largest coffee chain in Britain. It is one of two outlets in the five companies considered here that place a primary emphasis on food.

Pret’ signal their woke affinities with the “progress” lanyard that some of their employees wear. Despite this, the outlet does not convey that it is a woke space per se, and most of their messaging focuses on natural food and ethical sourcing. The brand has a lighter and more energetic aesthetic than their rivals; this finds expression through vivid imagery displaying food, white packaging that accentuates the appearance of the same, softly coloured furniture, brighter lighting, and the white shirts often worn by staff. The expensive prices of some of their sandwiches and salads ensure that the brand gravitates to better paid urban types but not exclusively. It is reasonably suited to study and remote working, but a tendency to play music of the kind mentioned above militates against this at times. It can be the worst on this point of all the outlets considered here.

Most Pret’ branches place their counters directly opposite the shop entrance, with food and drink on the side lining the route to the till. This layout gives an emphasis to straighter and longer queues and reflects a clearer division between where customers buy items and where they sit than is evident in some rival shops; this facilitates fast moving footfall for workers operating under time constraints.9

Greggs accounts for 9% of weekly out-of-home coffee occasions. Lumina did not measure them by the same metric as the other chains, but the consideration of the bakery in their analysis shows that the company, known for rolls and cakes, is enjoying great success. Many affectionately regard the outlet (founded in 1939 by John Gregg, floated by his family on the London Stock Exchange in 1984, and today owned by several investors) as a quintessential British bakery. It is in its native character that the brand vividly distinguishes itself.

In a February 2023 article in The Spectator: Why Greggs is the modern-day Lyons’s Corner House, Alec Marsh praises Greggs for its booming sales and its growth forecast. Their revenues increased by 23 per cent in 2022 to reach £1.51 billion. In 2010 Greggs had around 1,500 outlets in Britain, at the time of the article it had more than 2,000, and the chain then said it was on course to have 2,500 within two years.’10 Today it has 2,737 outlets, which is more than Costa’s 2,7070.11

Marsh attributes a ‘peculiar native Britishness’ to the eatery: ‘With its roots in Gosforth, after all, Greggs the baker, as it once was, is British to the core. If you took Starbucks and asked a person from the north of England to reinvent it, Greggs is what they would come up with (rather like Morrisons sometimes feels like a northern pastiche of Sainsbury’s). You know it from the moment you see it: Greggs says Sunderland, not Seattle; it smacks of Morpeth, not Manhattan.’12

Apart from some fuss over staff wearing pronoun badges in 2022, the company cannot be said to be associated too much with leftist signalling, unless you consider selling vegan sausage rolls to be woke.13

As in Pret’, at Greggs the paying counter is usually directly opposite the entrance. The bakery is similar to Costa in its adoption of simple and approachable messaging, employing a large font and images of food and drink which emphasises deals and lower prices.

Unlike the other outlets, Greggs does not present itself as a suitable place for working and studying. Seats and tables are reminiscent of a canteen one might find in a school, college, or a place accommodating loads of workers.

But how do the products of these high street heavyweights compare, and what do the offerings say about brands who sell them? All of these outlets sell luxury drinks that are high in sugar. Costa, Starbucks, and Nero food offerings contain both artificial and natural elements to varying degrees and emphasise indulgence over a health-conscious lifestyle. The sandwiches at these places are generally calorie dense. As well as the paninis and croissants you would expect of a continental eatery, Costa leans into the British bakery tradition with iced buns and cakes. Starbucks reveals American influences in the form of large muffins, large cookies, and cheesecakes. Nero is more likely to emphasise Italian pastries, and they sell focaccia and paninis.

Pret’s primary focus is food, and this manifests in the colourful display of choices that tout natural ingredients. Unsurprisingly, their pastry range has a French inflection. The use of falafel, hummus, couscous, Mediterranean grains, and Asian-inspired wraps give the outlet both a continental and cosmopolitan character. A range of salads, sandwiches, baguettes, toasties, and wraps provide customers with generally healthier food than their rivals. Although a lot of their items are rich and calorie dense, simple sandwiches with a single filling are sold. If considerations of health outweigh the desire to indulge, then Pret’ have better fare than their rivals.

The Gregg’s range of sausage rolls, pasties, steak beaks, sandwiches, baguettes, and sweet options like iced buns, gingerbread men, cherry bakewell muffins, and mince pies all cost a fraction of what you would probably pay for these anywhere else (despite all the emphasis on indulgent offerings, they offer some simple sandwiches similar to those found in Pret’).

The prevalence of these outlets contributes to experiences of drab globalised homogenisation on high streets and in town centres throughout Britain. This is compounded by the fact that most of the brands also converge on similar cultural signalling. With the exception of Greggs, these outlets regularly remind us, either through aesthetics or menu compositions, that so much of the public space does not quite feel like Britain. The answer to this is not to be found in more Greggs. A native brand that leans simply and elegantly into discreet British aesthetic forms and provides a cultured and comfortable coffee experience might be a hit with the public. A smart Anglo equivalent of Nero with Greggs products in fancier packaging and others less harmful to the waistline could be all it takes to mount a challenge to the cosmopolitan orthodoxy of urban centres. If something like this ever comes to pass, let's hope we are spared the loud music.

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Buy me a coffee

I will spend any coffee donations at a native independent shop. I promise.

References

Caffè Nero, ‘About Us’, Caffè Nero, https://www.caffenero.com/uk/en/about-us/ [accessed 6 June 2026].

Costa Coffee, ‘About Us’, Costa Coffee, https://www.costacoffee.com/about-us [accessed 6 June 2026].

Greggs, ‘About Us’, Greggs, https://www.greggs.co.uk/about-us [accessed 6 June 2026].

Pret A Manger, ‘About Pret’, Pret A Manger, https://www.pret.co.uk/en-GB/about-pret [accessed 6 June 2026].

Starbucks, ‘About Us’, Starbucks UK, https://www.starbucks.co.uk/about-us/ [accessed 6 June 2026].

‘H.V Morton set off from London on a road trip that gave rise to his cult 1928 travelogue The Call of England.’ Nearly a century after the book was published, John Gillam, the host of the Thinking Class podcast, retraces Morton’s steps in his new six-part video journal, The Call of England, byways and glances in the rearview mirror. Verdurin, a project space in London, hosted the premiere of the programme on April 28th.

Gillam’s film shows the beauty that still remains in England and manifests in its historic towns, medieval cathedrals, and countryside. English people and the pulsations of English life predominate in some places where things continue as they have done for hundreds of years. Scenes of green and pleasant land give way when Gillam contrasts this with the huge edifices of glass and concrete, filth, and ugliness that blight much of England nowadays. The threat posed to the country by the advancing impact of mass immigration and hyper-modernity is a thread that runs through what is an evocative and moving contribution to the national conversation.

Following the premiere, the author, David Goodhart and writer and senior fellow at Restore Britain, Harrison Pitt, joined Gillam for what was a very absorbing discussion dominated by issues surrounding mass immigration, ethnicity, and national identity. In his 2017 book, The Road to Somewhere: the populist revolt and the future of politics, 2017, Goodhart identified the duality of somewheres and anywheres to describe the social, cultural, and political divides in Britain. Somewheres are those who cleave to their national identity and cultural roots. Anywheres favour multiculturalism and globalism. After Goodhart explained the distinction to the audience, Pitt accepted the premise but found the description missed an anti-white suspicion and animus at play; he noted that people tend to live as anywheres mostly in majority white nations. Goodhart accepted the asymmetry.

When referring to his role at Restore and his recent policy paper on deporting illegal immigrants, Pitt said that any reversal of legal immigration should be consistent with Christian principles. Goodhart said that perhaps Christianity fits us with both solutions and problems. He referred to Tom Holland’s book Dominion that traces the open border appetites of the contemporary left to Christian ideas. There is definitely truth to this. The universalising tendency of the faith has been employed to negative affect by both sincere and insincere actors. On the other hand, the integrity of nations is upheld in Acts, and we would do well to remind ourselves that Christianity was a strong force throughout the country when Britain was at the peak of its power.

Goodhart said he does not favour deporting those with settled status. Many British people who discern that millions possess such status in direct opposition to the wishes of the majority expressed over several decades might find this view invidious. In response, Pitt noted the parlous state of the nation, telling the audience of looming statelessness and existence as a reviled minority. Referring to the issue of deporting legal immigrants, he noted, without favouring one side or the other, the horrendous suffering inflicted on civilians in Gaza, pointing out that many centre-right figures accept this as an acceptable consequence of an Israeli right to self-determination, while revealing a squeamishness over directing those who never merited naturalisation to leave Britain. Pitt said this is a huge double standard. Goodhart stated his preference for zero net migration. It is hard to imagine that this would do much more than avoid inserting more tripwires into a society containing many hazardous fault-lines.

Discussion soon turned to English ethnicity and whether Rishi Sunak is English. Pitt accepts Sunak presents as English in ways that are not trivial, but observes that the question supposes a yardstick against which Englishness is measured. This yardstick can only be the source from which English culture derives; the ethnic English. Obviously, the yardstick cannot be any other group or culture. This realisation does not do a disservice to Sunak or anyone else.

Goodhart acknowledged that there should be limits on ethnic mixing for the “core group” not to disappear, but he contradicted this somewhat when he uttered the misnomer of an ‘‘open ethnicity” to refer to what he wants English ethnicity to be. Ethnicity is inherited. It is not a club that one can join. This seems a case of someone who wants to be well meaning struggling to overcome liberal priors. The author said he wants to say that two thirds of the England football team are English, and so do a lot of us, but I think we know better.

Well done to Verdurin for hosting a brilliant event. Not only were the panel members of good quality, but the variety, sequencing, and interaction with the audience were fantastic. Their website can be found here. John Gillam’s YouTube channel, where his new series is likely to be shown, can be found here.

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British pubs have been declining for many years, and the pressure on them is intensifying. In the first six months of 2025, 209 pubs were demolished or converted for other uses.1 At the end of 2025, there were 38,623 pubs in England and Wales compared to 38,989 a year earlier. The figure marks the sharpest fall since 2021.2

A range of factors are adversely impacting pubs. The hospitality sector as a whole is struggling under the weight of increasing energy costs.3 The Valuation Office Agency (VOA) updates the rateable value of business properties to reflect property market changes. The next revaluation will come into effect on 1 April 20264, and this means that some pubs may have to pay significantly higher business rates. VOA statistics show that rateable values for pubs and pub/restaurants will go up by an average of 30% in 2026. For pubs/pub restaurants including lodge, the figure is 70%.5 Minimum wage and national insurance increases compound the problems faced by pubs.6

In response to pressures caused by national lockdowns, the government gave hospitality businesses 100% business rates relief between 2020 and 2022; this has been cut to 75% and will be removed from April 2026.7 Early in January this year, the trade body UK Hospitality said ‘the average pub will see their business rates increase 15% next year – an extra £1,400 – and by 76% over the next three years – an increase of £12,900.’8 From February 1 2026, alcohol duty rates rose in line with the Retail Price Index at 3.66%.9 Following a backlash from landlords over tax rises, and Labour MPs being banned from over a thousand pubs,10 the government reduced pub business rates by 15%.11 Although the business rate reduction has met with some approval, the measure does not assuage worries across the industry.12 Some say it will allow landlords to breathe a sigh of relief, and others are less satisfied.

Chris Tulloch, the managing director of Blind Tiger Inns, said the measures were not “a rescue package nor a lifeline”.

He runs 23 pubs across the north west of England including in Burnley, Manchester and The Wirral, and employs 250 staff.

“It’s almost like the government are saying to pubs ‘we were going to shoot you and now we’re not’,” he told the BBC.

“It’s not making things better, it just means things won’t go quite as bad quite as quickly.”13

Responses to troubles facing pubs often highlight the role they play in building and maintaining social bonds in communities. The local is far more than just a place to drink as George Orwell explained in his 1946 essay about The Moon Under Water pub. Orwell praises the place for its atmosphere and ability to attract people for conversation as much as beer. A burning fire and Victorian fittings add character. The place is always quiet enough for conversation. Pub goers still value these traits and the sense of a home away from home that a good establishment provides. The environment Orwell describes captures a unique British aesthetic tradition that many see as more agreeable than the layouts of newer third spaces. Different compartments allow the place to have different purposes, such as playing darts. Barmaids know customers by name; this detail builds into the sense of community Orwell captures when turning to the garden. He notes its trees, ample space, room for children to play, suitability for parties, and a general tendency to enable positive family life. A snack counter selling sandwiches and a dining room where you can eat meat and vegetables are other commended features of Orwell’s imaginary pub.14 It matters not that The Moon Under Water does not exist. Many will recognise aspects of their favourite places in a piece highlighting the togetherness and sense of family that declining pub numbers threaten.

Despite the challenges pubs face, some are more positive about the future. The specialist business property adviser and broker Christie & Co said that amid rising labour costs, higher business rates, and persistent inflation, the demand for quality pub and restaurant assets remains strong. ‘In the pub sector, 91% of freehold pubs sold by Christie & Co in 2025 were for continued use, and less than 2% of sales were distressed. Private buyers accounted for 57% of transactions, highlighting confidence at the individual investor level.’15

Lumina Intelligence, a specialised market and data analytics service, claimed that the British pub and bar market was forecast to reach £24.1bn for 2025, a modest growth of 1.9% year-on-year. They note success for managed, branded, and franchised groups who drive the bulk of this value at 12.4bn. Lumina claims that the market share of managed operators is expanding rapidly, and they acknowledge the decline of independent, tenanted, and leased pubs.16

Much has been made of the impact of social change on the pub. There is more choice on the high street nowadays. According to the Allegra World Coffee Portal, the British branded coffee shop market achieved its fifth consecutive year of outlet growth, adding 420 net new places over the last 12 months to reach 12,313 outlets.17 And the domestic fast food market has a growth rate of 5.7% year-on-year.18 Although these businesses do not provide the same experience as pubs, they are alternative spaces to eat and socialise in.

A more significant factor might be the reduced alcohol consumption of Gen Z. In January, the BBC reported on a 2024 NHS survey which indicated that 31% of 18-24 year-old women had not drunk alcohol in the previous year. For young men, the figure is 39%. Across all age groups, 24% of adults said they had not consumed alcohol in the last year; this number is a five per cent increase on the 19% figure calculated for the period between 2011 and 2022.19 Social change seems a noteworthy secondary factor impacting pubs.

In April 2025, a headline in The Guardian ran: ‘Generational shift’: UK gyms busier than ever as gen Zers ditch pub for pilates. While the article seems credible when it notes a record number of people joining gyms, and in asserting that younger people are fuelling this rise, it fails to cite statistics or anecdotes in support of the view that Gen Z is ditching the pub.20

Wellbeing and health and fitness content on the internet has grown exponentially in recent times. Consequently, lifestyle choices are probably given less shape by family members and peers than was the case in previous eras. And while an emphasis on health probably influences the relationship of many young people to the pub, there are other factors. By dint of being young, zoomers have on average less money than older people; this combines with the rising price of a pint and the cost of living crisis to influence the use of disposable income.

Although these issues are important, the pub has not been rejected; the relationship people have with it is changing somewhat. Sales of alcohol-free beer have soared. In December 2025, the British Beer and Pub Association (BBPA) said they expected annual sales of low and no alcohol beer to reach a record high of 200m. In 2024, 170m low and no-alcohol beers were drunk. In response to these findings, the organisation highlighted the sector’s ability to adapt to new trends.21

Not long after The Guardian piece, the Financial Times gave an entirely different view. The author of the article: How pubs won Gen Z over cites a survey claiming 80% per cent of zoomer respondents would be more likely to go to the pub if there was karaoke, themed nights, games or live music, compared with 66% of Millennials. The article points out that younger people visit the pub less, but optimistically notes that 86% of Gen Z adults visited one in the last three months. A recommendation for more variety echoes other responses to the industry situation.22

Stephen Owens, the Managing Director for Pubs & Restaurants at Christie & Co said: “Operators who invest in their offering, embrace technology, and respond to evolving consumer expectations will be best placed to thrive in 2026. Despite cost pressures, demand among buyers looking to acquire hospitality venues remains strong and we anticipate renewed momentum as financing conditions start to improve.”23

A Morning Advertiser piece, published not long before the Christie & Co press release, finds that some pubs are varying their business. Publicans are hosting fundraisers, dances, craft markets, and wellbeing events to draw new audiences. Due to evening trade softening, operators are emphasising brunch, set-price lunch offers, and coffee.24 Pubs are aware of the opportunity the latter provides to compete for the custom of remote workers who want to visit during quieter times.25 Barons operates a dozen pubs in the south-east and reports a strong lunchtime trade after introducing new breakfast and brunch menus. Seafood Pub Company reports takeaway breakfast as being a win.26

A piece in The Guardian from September 2025 notes an increase in themed nights at pubs and supports the view that the industry is trying to be more creative in response to current pressures. The article reports the embrace of Elvis impersonator evenings, open mic poetry, and opera in the garden. The Ship in Hampshire is given as an example of immediate success following a turn to themed events.

‘‘By the time Mark Dawson joined the Ship in Hampshire eight years ago, trade had thinned to a trickle. “We were busy when the sun shone,” said the general manager. “But otherwise, it was very quiet.”

‘Over the next year, Dawson tried a range of ways to attract the local Langstone community. But footfall remained low. “Eventually I decided to go back in time: to themed nights,” he said. “I really went for it – and the success was immediate, lasting and is still growing.”’27

People who value the institution of the British pub will hope that The Ship in Hampshire inspires struggling establishments to diversify their offerings. The economic landscape is tough and the tax burden harsh, and a lot of pubs will continue to close. Those that can adapt to social change and the interests of a broader clientele might not just survive but thrive in the times ahead. The Moon Under Water, but with an at times livelier twist than Orwell described, is perhaps a good model to follow. And if more places tap into a greater potential, the community that the British pub often embodies might be a fixture of our lives for ages to come.

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Most fine buildings in Britain were erected long before modernist architecture took over and remade much of the landscape. In 1984, the then Prince of Wales voiced his opposition to newer trends in a famous speech at an event held to commemorate the 150th anniversary of the Royal Institute of British Architects.1 He won popular support for his stance, and in 1993 his architectural ideas began to be realised with the construction of the town of Poundbury on the western outskirts of Dorset. Leon Krier (1946-2025) was the main architect.2 The development was led by the Duchy of Cornwall under the aegis of the prince. Some have derided the project as ‘‘kitsch’’ and ‘‘pastiche’’.3 Design critic Stephen Bayley slammed the town as ‘‘fake, heartless, authoritarian and grimly cute.’’4 In contrast, philosopher Roger Scruton (1944-2020) praised Poundbury for its commitment to pre-modern planning and architectural principles.5 Others compliment the ease of walking and integration of social housing the area provides. Is Poundbury a failure or a success? I decided to go there and find out.

Walking through Poundbury for the first time feels at once beautifully unique, idyllic, and inspiring. Here, one can appreciate the re-emergence of the greatest architectural styles from the British and European past. Neoclassical, classical revival, Georgian, Regency, and vernacular forms feature.

Many roads curve slightly and offer wonderful prospects. It is not easy to predict what style of building might appear next. When a rustic home comes into view, houses in contrasting styles appear close by. The place can feel eclectic in part, but differences often feel unusual and interesting rather than ill-fitting. Some structural arrangements can seem a bit odd in places without overriding the sense of coherence and sufficient uniformity provided elsewhere.

Whereas some towns might contain a few fine buildings on a couple of streets, Poundbury pleases the eye at almost every turn. Litter is nowhere to be seen, and refuse bins are kept in courtyards at the back of homes so as not to sully the roadside; filth has been defeated here. Cleanliness accentuates the uplifting freshness and serenity that the architecture provides. Residents have to comply with rules that protect the visual integrity of the development. It is not open for someone to place a satellite dish on their property or paint their front door any colour they please.6

The town has an array of squares, a few evoke the elegant Georgian ones in London at places such as Bloomsbury, and layouts appear conducive to positive community relations.

The development is quite dense. Some homes might seem a bit too cheek-by-jowl for some, but with polite neighbours this should not be a huge problem.

The town seamlessly integrates the 35% cent of homes designated as social housing. Poundbury does not have a zoning plan, and commercial and domestic life blend throughout the development. The more affordable homes can only be discerned by a less grand appearance than the obviously expensive houses and flat numbers revealing multiple homes in a property. Aesthetically, the buildings are consistent across the town. The arrangement contrasts pleasantly with the situation in our cities where high-rise blocks often announce council flats.

Green space is never very far away, but it does not seem that home gardens are large. Regrettably, I did not see a pond on my trip but have since found the town has at least one. The lack of a few prominent spaces for water is a disappointment, and so is an almost complete absence of wildlife save for the odd seagull and some dogs.

The town has a range of amenities but could offer more to its residents. Approximately 2,750 people work in Poundbury; 5000 live there.7 Everything is within a relatively short walking distance, and there are no awkward hills that would add to the struggles of the elderly and those with mobility issues. Service businesses account for a significant portion of the local economy. Estate agents are prominent, which is unsurprising given that the town is not due to be complete until c2028. Construction work is ongoing and clear for visitors to see. The number of services catering to the elderly is striking. My visit took place mostly within working hours but even so, the proportion of boomers in relation to other age cohorts was greater than one would expect in most towns. Figures provided by Dorset council state that those over sixty-five comprise 30.5% of people in the area in comparison to the 18.9% average for England and Wales.8 In Poundbury specifically, 32% are within the older age group.9 This helps to explain the almost complete absence of nightlife in the town and its quiet character. The addition of some younger people to the area might provide a better balance.

Many homeware shops are present and so are pet services and beauty salons. The latter were the busiest traders during my visit save for food and drink outlets; there are two convenience stores, and a large supermarket in the central town square accommodates locals. Poundbury is without a conventional gym or sports centre. A Pilates studio and a sports massage service are the only fitness related facilities I saw. An interior design place and a candle shop are among a number of businesses that people use every so often rather than daily. Other quirky places operate, including a creative arts space of some kind. I noticed only a couple of clothing shops, one of which was shut by mid afternoon, like a number of other businesses in the area. One wonders how some places manage. Unfortunately, there is no public library. Such an outlet could enliven the area without spoiling its serenity. And it is a shame that Poundbury is missing a dedicated bookshop. It is even more of a shame that the town church looks more like a benefit office than a place of worship.

The area plan makes it difficult to imagine the town being very lively even on weekends. A major high street on which commercial activity is centred is decidedly avoided here. The closest thing to it is the Buttermarket. As is the case with much of the town, the nature of operations there militates against constant footfall save for market days.

Despite some shortcomings, the area has won praise for its economic achievement and transport links. As of 2018, the Poundbury development had permanently increased the local GVA (Gross Value Added) by £98m per annum (predicted to be £105m per annum c2025).10 According to the Institute of Civil Engineers, the construction phases will add £236m to the local economy.11 12

The aesthetic integrity of Poundbury finds support through discreet signage that identifies businesses. A feeling of tiring homogenisation is refreshingly absent here. Walkways and buildings are more prominent than brands in a place that eschews vapid transactional and commercial features which blight other towns and cities. And the only road sign I saw was tiny.

The town has a post office, a GP, a dentist, and provides various private medical services. A police station is absent; the nearest one is elsewhere in Dorchester. The reliance on the broader Dorchester area is reinforced by the settlement having two primary schools but no secondary or tertiary educational institutions. Poundbury has a fire station that looks more dignified than other ones; this is something councils could learn from.

On the edge of the development, there is a recreation ground featuring a community building, football goals, and amusements for children. This area achieves a fine balance in catering for those who might want to use the space for games, meetings, and walks.

Some independent coffee shops and restaurants are situated in a way that acts against any one area being too crowded. Such positioning is conducive to agreeable noise levels and a calm atmosphere across the town.

I had breakfast at the pleasantly bright and somewhat upmarket Coffee Lounge. Standard British breakfasts were on the menu and pastries were perfectly presented in this pristine establishment. The staff and much of the fare were of a native kind, reflective of the town as a whole. While coffee shops invariably have at least some foreign aspects, such features manifest here more by way of inflection than in general character. The eatery is opposite some of the freshest Georgian homes you are ever likely to see. I began to reflect on how pleasant this urban idyll is while appreciating the complete absence of any obtrusive matter.

As Britain now produces olives, it is fitting that the town is home to the Olives Et Al restaurant, which adjoins a garden centre. Poundbury’s Square Bistro offers steak. These spaces conform to a British cultural inheritance infused with continental flourishes.

But what about the town’s centrepiece, Queen Mother Square? Does it reflect what works well about the development and offset its limitations, or does it accentuate these features?

Fine cream golden walls, Corinthian pilasters and columns, light-absorbing sash windows, and characteristic classical precision and rhythm ennoble a building fit to house great works of art and treasures of the world. Strathmore House is a wonderful sight, and so is the Royal Pavilion next to it. Classical pilasters align its terrace, niches and arches provide texture, and a golden colonnade rests above. The grand Duchess of Cornwall Inn displays columns in a three-tier order inspired by the Palladian style. Kings Point House is not as grand; it is still a fine structure that combines Georgian and classical features.

Despite all the magnificence, the constructions in the square do not house great works of art or treasure, nor do they provide a significant cultural or institutional function that one might expect. All three contain apartments. An estate agent and a wine shop are on the ground floor of Strathmore House. A luxury spa occupies the Royal Pavilion; there is nothing wrong with this, but the addition of a culturally significant function would better justify the opulence. The Duchess of Cornwall Inn is a fine pub hotel that meets the needs of visitors and locals. It is the only one of the square’s major buildings that need not alter its current usage. Kings Point House has a Waitrose facing a car park. Having a supermarket here is not a bad idea, although it does not warrant such a prominent place. That customers enter and exit into the main square car park is probably the most incongruous aspect of Poundbury. The car park should be facing away from the main square to avoid the aesthetic and experiential downgrading of the town’s central space. The supermarket is the main basis of footfall in the square, and the parking facility invites congestion; this erodes the harmony of the area but not disastrously. The architectural flourishes in the square provide a lavish backdrop for locals going to Waitrose and those who can afford to live in expensive homes.13 Surely, such luxuriance should do more than that. Kings Point House does contain a butcher’s, but it faces away from the square.

It is fair to expect the town’s primary square to serve an important municipal function. Housing a small museum or exhibition explaining the story of the development would make perfect sense. Given the well-known interests in architecture and the environment that Charles III has, a scholarly centre or institute relating to these would be a good fit. Even a couple of small shops would be positive additions. A decent coffee shop (they already have a coffee place/bakery in Waitrose, but it looks more like a canteen than a dedicated coffee environment), and maybe some sort of public work space would give the square more purpose while maintaining its calm feel. In its current state, the centrepiece seems to be grasping for something higher than it can reach. At least these problems are by no means insurmountable.

Visitors receive a beautiful treat when moving past the main square behind the Royal Pavilion. An expansive green with brilliant Georgian houses on either side leads to a view of the glorious English countryside. Great scenery is visible around the whole town.

While there may be a paucity of things for teenagers and young adults, Poundbury succeeds as a traditional, restful and aesthetically pleasing town that neatly integrates living, working and recreation. Reasons to commend it far outweigh causes for criticism.

A large hotel in the main square indicates a receptiveness to visitors, but no other signal suggests a great interest in attracting outsiders. Poundbury eschews a touristy vibe, and this helps it appear more real and lived in than its detractors accept.

Some might deride the place as pastiche, but we need not perceive this label as criticism, despite the intent. Nothing is wrong with using older forms, particularly when fine architecture is sadly redundant throughout much of the country. The rejection of the development as kitsch might lead many to imagine that the town leans into its royal association and building styles in a tasteless manner. The reality is altogether different.

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Writer and Restore Britain Campaigns Director, Charlie Downes, dealt with hostility and made some solid points after an ambush by presenter Nana Akua during a recent GB News show. Panellists were debating whether people who cannot speak English should be allowed to vote in elections in England before Akua changed tack and asked Downes: ‘‘Do you think I’m English?”

Downes was unprepared for the question and already countering leftist commentator Jonathan Liss when it was put to him. Downes said the subject should be put to one side due to there being insufficient time to give this topic the deserved detail. Akua laughed at Downes and told him there was time to discuss the matter. The gloves were off.

Akua pivoted to asking Downes whether she was British, and initially he did not answer her directly. He said Britishness is more than possessing a passport and adherence to abstract values, noting that Britain is made up of ancient peoples’. Downes conceded Akua was British because she was born in Britain and ‘‘all the rest of it’’, and he said that there is a spectrum of British identity with a clear difference between someone whose roots here go back thousands of years and those without this heredity.

This segment reveals the need for the party to show more coherence and precision when it comes to the subject of British identity. On the rights of the country’s ancient people to this land, Restore’s points are strong and mark them out from the avoidance and sometimes denial of the native interest shown by Reform. But as Restore do not argue that ethnic minorities are not British, when someone like Akua raises this question, party representatives should have a polished answer ready and avoid the ‘‘it’s more than a passport’’ refrain. As votes win seats and the public often have a very superficial understanding of national identity at the best of times, a response like this might work: Yes, you are British (or you are a British national) – this does not in any way alter the fundamental right of the country’s ancient peoples to self-determination over this land. This is paramount. If Downes had such a bullet waiting in his chamber, the segment would have gone more smoothly. With his acceptance of Akua as British on a spectrum of British identity, Downes did arrive at a similar position to the one posited here, but those associated with Restore should have a consistent answer ready at all times. Avoiding ambiguous responses to the question such as, because you were born here “and all the rest of it’’ will make the group more credible to the public. Precision on this point is particularly important for Restore because their unique selling point is what they have to say about British identity, and fumbling here is of more consequence for them than in another policy area. If appropriate, representatives of the party can clarify how personal positions differ from those of the group.

The reference made by Downes to a spectrum of Britishness that recognises the unique native identity did not allow Akua to buckle his principled moral base. She failed when invoking Cheddar Man in an attempt to undercut the native claim. Akua could not use this example to make any meaningful point. Cheddar Man is the name given to someone who is said to have had darker than white skin when he lived in Britain, c7150 BC.1 He belonged to the Mesolithic Western Hunter-Gatherer population that diverged from sub-Saharan African populations 50-60,000 years ago.2 He lies within the ancestral population stream that contributed to later Europeans (including most White Britons), not within the West African population stream from which black people in Britain today derive their ancestry.3 Cheddar Man does not undermine the ancestral claim of today’s ethnic British to Britain. Invoking him does not advance any ancestral claim of contemporary black populations to the country.

After failing to prove anything in her favour by recourse to Cheddar Man, Akua resorted to the out of Africa theory. Regardless of whether all humans originally came from Africa, a lot has happened since the earliest days of humanity, and ethnicities have emerged separately throughout the world developing unique ties to their territories over thousands of years.

Both Akua and Liss made frequent references to skin colour, and Downes was not lured into making a statement that would allow his opponents to portray him as promoting an exclusionary worldview based on crude biological taxonomy. Akua’s inability to win the argument became clearer when she told Downes: ‘‘It’s because I’m black’’ before laughing again. It is unsurprising that she finds this subject funny. Her ancestral homeland is not at stake. The same cannot be said for Downes. By demeaning British ancestry, an ancestry that is genetically and historically attested, Akua’s rhetoric was consistent with attempts to deny the ethnic British their inheritance and possessive right to Britain; both these things were axioms before mass immigration.

When Liss asked why he cannot be English, Downes told him that this was because he had already said his family are from Eastern Europe. Liss failed to comprehend that ethnicity is something inherited and not a club that someone can just decide to join. Initially, he said the ‘White English’ might be an ethnic group before conceding that it "can be". His sudden change of view indicates confusion and a lack of understanding of the subject. Perhaps Downes deserves credit for his tenacity in forcing the concession by weight of his conviction. Liss kept repeating that he was born here and claiming this as justification for calling himself English. He might want to familiarise himself with the examples of Rudyard Kipling and George Orwell. Both were born in India. Both are regarded as English and are English cultural icons.

Overall, Downes performed well in a hostile environment keen to uphold a merely propositional definition of what being British is. He never watered down the Restore position, maintained the native right that others could not undermine, and refused to let his opponents dominate. The Restore representative was on his own against Akua and Liss; fellow panellist Cristo Foufas was a bystander.

Downes is no longer appearing on TV solely in the guise of a commentator. He has a prominent position at a political party with 100,000 members. The stakes are higher now; there should be an understanding and patience shown towards Restore’s public figures while they deal with the new conditions.

The failure of Akua and Liss to undermine the points made by Downes should encourage others when in similar arguments. For Restore to be successful, ready, consistent and precise articulation on the subject of national identity is important. The party should be able to solve such issues quickly.

Likes, comments, and shares are appreciated.

This piece is part of Current Things, an occasional feature involving reaction to goings on in the news and online spheres.

References

Rakib Ehsan, ‘Britain has never been a nation of immigrants. So why is Reform pretending that it is?’, GB News (opinion), 11 June 2025, https://www.gbnews.com/opinion/reform-uk-chairman-david-bull-immigration.

S. Mallick et al., ‘The Simons Genome Diversity Project: 300 genomes from 142 diverse populations’, Nature, 538.7624 (2016), 201–206, https://doi.org/10.1038/nature18964.

Provides the timeline for the divergence between sub-Saharan African populations and the ancestors of present-day Eurasians (~50–60,000 years ago).

I. Lazaridis et al., ‘Ancient human genomes suggest three ancestral populations for present-day Europeans’, Nature, 513.7518 (2014), 409–413, https://doi.org/10.1038/nature13673.

Establishes Western Hunter-Gatherers as one of the principal ancestral sources of present-day Europeans.

C. B. Stringer, R. N. E. Barton and J. C. Finlayson, ‘Gough’s Cave, Cheddar, Somerset and the remains of “Cheddar Man”: a reassessment of the chronology’, Proceedings of the Prehistoric Society, 84 (2018), 1–20.

Reassessment confirms a date of approximately c. 9100–9000 BP, calibrated to roughly 7150 BC (late Mesolithic).

Ducks move slowly along the water below a weeping willow on a wet early Wednesday afternoon. Tall white homes brighten the view through tree branches. The grey, light drizzle and cold do not spoil the scene. Very slightly, the surface beneath my feet shifts up for a second, and then down. The casual attire of the person to my left suggests he must be staying nearby; there are only a few people present in the small space. Soft music complements the natural view, and the coffee is OK.

I’m back a couple of weeks later at a similar afternoon time but on a Sunday. The place is busier; the sun is shining. An increase of custom at the Waterside cafe, Little Venice, does not spoil the peaceful atmosphere I enjoyed on the Wednesday. Some read while others converse.

Outside, the path along the river is busier than it was on that greyer, colder and rainier weekday. Small groups of those who are very likely tourists walk along and enjoy the scenery. Runners pass by. The place is not teeming, but it contrasts markedly with my first visit when the area was sparse.

When walking over a bridge, the small groups of tourists are near to those who must be residents. Fine clothes and the demeanour of some I see suggest this. People seem healthy and content here.

I walk past the grand homes of Little Venice and Warwick Avenue area. They have regency, mid nineteenth-century Georgian and early Victorian stucco-fronted styles. These residences have three to four floors. The most expensive properties are found on Randolph Crescent, Warwick Avenue, Maida Avenue, and Blomfield Road, where in 2024 a home sold for £24.2 million. Premium houses in the area often sell for more than five million pounds.

On Formosa Street, the Toast cafe was suitable for quiet reflection on the wet weekday when a few presumed locals attended. On the Sunday, it is heaving and without sufficient seating to accommodate its customers. A nearby French bistro also does a fine trade in this setting. The wonderful Prince Alfred pub, named after the second son of Queen Victoria, stands opposite.

The pub is full of Sunday crowds eating roast dinners. The venue was built in 1856 and retains ‘snob screens’. In the past, these barriers gave well-to-do patrons privacy and prevented humbler customers from seeing them.

It is one of several Grade II* listed buildings in the area. This categorisation means a building is particularly important and of more than special interest. Historic England explains its reasons for the designation:

The Prince Alfred, Formosa Street, London, built 1863 and remodelled in around 1898, is listed at Grade II* for the following principal reasons:

Architectural interest:

* as a remarkably well-preserved 1890s pub interior, combining a range of fixtures of distinction with a complete compartmentalised bar plan;

* for the intricacy and flamboyance of the sinuous bowed-glass pub frontage, with its corresponding wall tiling, mosaic flooring and hanging lamps, all carefully integrated in the 1890s with the refined stuccoed elevations of 1863;

Historic interest:

* as the best example nationally of the type of highly compartmentalised pub arrangements found in urban pubs at the end of the C19, giving a tangible and sense of how such pubs would have functioned;

* as a high-status pub remodelling scheme undertaken at the height of the Victorian 'pub boom', retaining an eclectic and rare range of fittings from the late 1890s;

The brilliant Tweedy of the Tweedy Pubs YouTube channel explored the venue in 2023. In the image below, he crouches in a space made to allow pot boys through the screen to collect glasses. The Prince Alfred retains its original partitions, which are a remarkable survival of more than a hundred years. See Tweedy’s video below for more on this and other pubs nearby.

Little Venice includes the junction of the Paddington Arm of the Grand Union Canal, the Regent’s Canal, and the entrance to Paddington Basin. The origin of the name is sometimes attributed to the poet Robert Browning who lived at Beauchamp Lodge, 19 Warwick Crescent between 1862 and 1887. This was disputed by Lord Kinross in 1966 who asserted that Lord Byron (1788-1824) first humorously compared the locale to Venice. The name ‘little Venice’ was later formally applied to an electoral ward of the City of Westminster. For more on the history of the area, check out a video by Rob’s London here.

If you would like to explore the area, I recommend arriving at Warwick Avenue tube station rather than walking down from Paddington station. It’s not a huge deal if you come by the latter route, but the station area, particularly the Paddington Basin, is a mass of grey, glass and concrete that you might want to avoid.

The walk along the canal to Camden takes around an hour. Boat tours are available.

The glimmer of the sun on the water lights my path as I continue to enjoy the place and see what more I might discover.

Likes, shares and comments are appreciated.

References

Express.co.uk, ‘West London: Maida Vale pub The Prince Alfred awarded Grade II listed status’, Daily Express, 26 September 2022, accessed 28 February 2026, https://www.express.co.uk/news/uk/1629448/West-London-Maida-Vale-pub-the-Prince-Alfred-Grade-II-listed-status.

Historic England, ‘Warwick Avenue and Little Venice: Listed Buildings in the City of Westminster’, National Heritage List for England, accessed 28 February 2026, https://historicengland.org.uk/listing/the-list/.

Ian Green Residential, ‘£100 Million Little Venice Sales’, IanGreenResidential.com, accessed 28 February 2026, https://www.iangreenresidential.com/about/media/3-randolph-road/.

MyLondon, ‘The historic London pub with “snob screens” that you can still see today’, MyLondon.news, 13 January 2024, accessed 28 February 2026, https://www.mylondon.news/news/nostalgia/london-pubs-snob-screens-you-32395314.

Property Solvers, ‘Little Venice House Prices – Trends and Sold Data’, PropertySolvers.co.uk, accessed 28 February 2026, https://www.propertysolvers.co.uk/homeowners-hub/london-house-prices/little-venice/.

Rightmove, ‘House Prices in Little Venice, London’, Rightmove.co.uk, accessed 28 February 2026, https://www.rightmove.co.uk/house-prices/little-venice.html.

Robslondon ‘The History of London’s Little Venice’, YouTube, video, 15 July 2022, accessed 28 February 2026,

.

Savills, ‘Little Venice, London – Residential Property Market Overview’, Savills.co.uk, accessed 28 February 2026, https://www.savills.co.uk/property/residential/little-venice.aspx.

The Prince Alfred, ‘History of the Pub’, ThePrinceAlfred.com, accessed 28 February 2026, https://www.theprincealfred.com/history-of-the-pub.

Tweedy Pubs, ‘Maida Vale Pubs’, YouTube, video, 12 March 2023, accessed 28 February 2026,

Wikipedia, ‘Little Venice’, Wikipedia, last edited 27 January 2026, accessed 28 February 2026, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Little_Venice#cite_note-7.

Zoopla, ‘Blomfield Road, Little Venice, London W9 – Sold House Prices’, Zoopla.co.uk, accessed 28 February 2026, https://www.zoopla.co.uk/house-prices/little-venice/blomfield-road/.

Zoopla, ‘House Prices in Little Venice, London’, Zoopla.co.uk, accessed 28 February 2026, https://www.zoopla.co.uk/house-prices/little-venice/.

More than invitations to laugh flow from the series seven Only Fools and Horses (OFAH) episode: ‘He ain’t heavy, he’s my uncle’ (1991). The programme explores themes of masculinity, pride and memory and addresses loss of status and dignity while showing how difficult honesty can become when pride is threatened.1

At the outset of the episode, the departure from his marital home following relationship struggles with his wife Cassandra (Gwyneth Strong) and a job loss provide the dispiriting context in which Rodney Trotter (Nicholas Lyndhurst) appears hungover and downbeat in the living room of the family home he shares again with his older brother Del Trotter (David Jason), Del’s partner Raquel Turner (Tessa Peake Jones) and his uncle Albert Trotter (Buster Merryfield, 1920-1999). In contrast to Rodney, Albert is energetic and optimistic as he lifts weights and recalls his days boxing in the navy. A short time later, he stands in a smart suit proudly displaying his wartime medals ahead of attending the Nags Head pub for an over sixties dominoes final against his old schoolmate Knock-knock.

Rodney looks through the newspaper to see if he can find jobs to apply for in the wake of his poor decision to resign from his role at the printing firm headed by his father-in-law. His attempt to rescind his resignation failed. The position was the only serious and legitimate one he had held. Aside from this, the only work he did was for his wheeler-dealer brother in a black-market type arrangement. Raquel raises the subject of how he might explain to a prospective employer a decade in which he did not pay tax and national insurance or have a career history he could account for. Rodney suggests an alibi of work at a foreign oil company in Saudi Arabia, but this will not cut it. He offers to work for Del again at Trotters Independent Traders and obscures his pressing need for employment by stating that he is “willing” to be his brother’s employee under acceptable conditions. Del tells him he is not needed.

Following his rejection, Rodney protests the snub and advances his case with reference to managerial experience, argues he could computerise the entire business, and asserts his executive qualifications. His frame collapses when he fails to persuade Del and resorts to asking his brother if he can borrow a fiver. Raquel exclaims and registers her surprise at things being this bad for Rodney. Rodney admits he is desperate and offers to be anything, and Del accepts him back into the business. In an effort to regain the self-esteem that dissolved with his resignation, Rodney suggests he assume the job title of: Director of Commercial Development. When Del assigns Rodney to a task and mentions clothes, the younger brother anticipates being sent to put on a suit. Instead, he is ordered to get his car cleaning gear.

Del walks with Rodney to his garage on the housing estate where the family lives. He reveals a 1977 Ford Capri bought from Boycie (John Challis 1942-2021). The context of a rise in muggings on the estate and the need of a suitable vehicle to aid the heavily pregnant Raquel motivated the purchase. The car is in a rotten state due to years of neglect of the paintwork. Anticipating a request to clean it, Rodney brims with indignation.

Rodney says, ‘‘I’m not cleaning it!’’

Del: “You bloody are!”

Rodney: “Oh no! The days when you got me to do all your dirty work are long gone! I used to run my own computer section! I was an executive!”

Rodney struggles to come to terms with diminished status. When he stands by the Capri, he is about to start moving along the journey towards acceptance, but heavy chains of denial still clatter with every step he takes. Undesirable commands evoke the time before his marriage and life at the printing firm and this hurts.

Del: And also remember, that since you walked out on Cassandra and your job, you have been sleeping and eating at my flat for nix! Now I’m perfectly willing to accept your resignation. I’ll help you find a nice little bedsit. I’ll even give you a paraffin heater and a mousetrap as a leaving present.

Rodney: Alright, I’ll clean it!

Later, in the Nags Head, Boycie’s spouse, Marlene (Sue Holderness) finds Albert and Knock-knock competing for the affections of her mother. The old friends clash and become love-rivals.

Marlene: (Quietly to Albert) Why’d they call him Knock-Knock?

Knock-Knock knocks his domino on the table twice, a sign that you cannot continue the player.

Albert: It’s because he’s a very bad dominoes player!

Knock-Knock: I’m a better player than you, Trotter!

Albert: You’ve never beaten me at dominoes in all your life.

Knock-Knock: I can beat you at anything. Even when we was at school I could beat you at anything!

Meanwhile, Del, with concerns over social danger on the estate in mind, notices a group of “skinheads” in the pub, and his acquaintance tells him the newcomers have attended the venue over the last couple of weeks; this detail will have later significance. Then Del realises he has forgot all about his brother and the car when Trigger (Roger Lloyd-Pack, 1944-2014) tells him he saw Rodney cleaning some ‘‘old banger’’ at 7.30 at night.

A seething Rodney enters the pub, his clothes are smeared with grease and polish.

Rodney: Look at my clothes!

Del: I told you to wear your car-cleaning gear.

Rodney: A director of commercial development does not wear Doc Martens and stonewashed Wranglers!

Del: When he’s cleaning his guv’nor’s Capri he does!

Rodney: And I got Swarfega in me eye!

Raquel: Your finger’s bleeding, Rodney.

Rodney: Yeah, that happened when me hand went straight through the bodywork! I’m bleeding, see! There’s blood! Oh yeah. Mike, you got a plaster?

Rodney’s predicament resonates beyond 1991. In 2024, 28% of UK adults aged 20–34 lived with their parents, compared with roughly 20% in the early 1990s.2 In this episode, he is around twenty-eight years old. Del’s council flat is where he was born and then raised following the death of his mother and abandonment by his father.

Later on at the flat, Del tells Raquel he bought the car so she could avoid having to walk the streets amid social dangers. Then Rodney bursts into the living room and announces that Albert has been mugged after leaving the pub. The brothers rush to the hospital.

In the next scene, Albert lies on the sofa having sustained a black eye while Del declares his intent to exact revenge on the attackers. Cassandra arrives to visit Albert, and she is soon having a conversation with Rodney in the kitchen. When she refers to Rodney working for his brother again, he tells her this was not an easy decision and mentions receiving plenty of job offers; this was not the case, but he feels he must hold a robust frame rather than admit he pleaded to his brother for employment. Rodney mentions his self-assigned job title again before his frame collapses when Cassandra notices the cut on his finger. He lets slip that the injury came while cleaning Del’s car. Realising his error, he claims the cleaning task was done as a favour to his brother rather than admit he was without better options. Cassandra sees through Rodney’s attempt to gloss over his reality and makes some adverse comments about his work situation. She accuses him of becoming like Del. She refers to changes in his manner and notices his suit is something Del would wear. The situation gets worse for Rodney when he tells her the attire is a Romanian product he and his brother are selling, and Cassandra refers to the chain hanging from his neck as part of a Del ‘‘starter kit.” When Rodney uses one of Del’s phrases: ‘‘No way Pedro,” Cassandra mocks him. Feeling increasing frustration, he tells his wife he is busy; she takes offence and storms out in annoyance despite his attempt to soften the dismissive remark.

Claims of being like Del hit hard. Through employment by his wife’s father, Rodney was able to emerge from the sphere of dependency on his brother and involvement in often mildly illicit trade and move into legitimacy, independence and respectability. The end of that career led to renewed dependence on Del. This scene brings the tension of these struggles to the surface in a convincing way. Rodney’s lost job was inescapably associated with his marriage to the middle-class Cassandra, which was a clear sign of him having transcended his council-house background. The failure of the relationship might represent further decline, and this possibility sharpens Rodney’s status woes.

Later that night, Albert is shaken when hearing the living room door close. Del enters and reassures his uncle by telling him the security chain is on the home entrance and that things are safe. Albert hands Del a picture from his box. The image is of Tobacco Road where Albert was born (the street was not a real street in the way the episode presents it, but the place near the docks in the Bermondsey/Wapping area of London did exist). The pull of the past on Albert is strong at this traumatic time. Raquel offers to take him to visit it. Albert tells her the place has been knocked down. At Raquel’s instigation, he tells a story about his time in Africa ‘‘during the war”. He poignantly recalls being on a hospital ship and picking up the wounded from “Monty’s’’ North Africa campaign. He admits to crying because of the upset this caused him. Albert mentions an invitation to explore the jungle in Africa and his eager acceptance of the opportunity.

Albert: Anyway, somehow or another I got cut off from the rest of the party and found meself in this clearing. I just just about to retrace me steps when I heard a noise behind me. I turned round and standing there was the biggest lion I’ve ever seen.”

Raquel is now asleep. Del’s eyes are closed and he is just mumbling in his half-sleep.

Albert: I looked at him – and he looked at me. We just stood there – looking at each other. Then suddenly he went Raaaaggggghhhhhrrrrr!

Albert lets out a massive and loud roar. He puts so much effort into it that his eyes are bulging.

Del and Raquel wake with alarm.

Del: Cor blimey, Albert! Leave it out, will you?

Albert: I’ve never been so frightened … I did something very childish, Del. (He is on the point of crying) I wet meself! (Holding back the tears) A full-grown man – and I wet meself.

Del: Hey, no, come on. That’s nothing to get upset about, Unc. Any bloke would do the same if faced with a man-eating lion!

Albert: I don’t mean in the jungle. I mean just now when I went ‘Raaaggghhhrrrr’.

Albert’s incontinence emphasises his frailty and compounds his upset. His fit and optimistic presentation earlier in the episode is no more. He is no longer the upbeat man who proudly displayed his wartime medals ahead of going to the pub. Instead, he is withdrawn, routed to the home environment and unwilling to face the outside world.

Rodney arrives and suggests to Del a sterner approach towards Albert to get him back to normal. When his uncle emerges after cleaning himself, Del commands Albert to do the shopping the next day on the pretext of the brothers being too busy. He tells him the pregnant Raquel is in no condition to complete this chore.

Albert: Me? I can’t go out there, Del.

Del: Yes, you can!

Albert: I don’t really feel up to it yet, son.

Del: You just pop don to the shop and get some fish fingers… Listen to me, Unc, we’ve got a busy time ahead of us, what with Trotters Independent Traders being in a phase of commercial augmentation and Raquel about to drop her chavvy. We can’t carry any lame ducks. You are starting to get under our feet. D’you understand what I’m saying? Get up and get out, ‘cos you’re no good to us the way you are.

Albert: Yeah… I understand you, Del… I understand.

Albert moves to his bedroom.

Albert: Goodnight, boys.

Rodney: That was a bit tough, weren’t it?

Del: What? You were the one who said…

Rodney: (Cutting in) I’m not saying anything against you – just you were harder than I imagined.

The next morning Albert is absent having left a note: I won’t get under your feet any more. Your loving Uncle, Albert.

The brothers rush from the flat and travel across London in search of their uncle. After spending the day journeying through the city, the pair correctly guess Albert is at Tobacco Road.

The pair approach Albert and tell of their worry for him. Rodney raises the subject of the area being his uncle’s birthplace. Albert looks out at the range of homes across the water. He cannot locate his old place precisely, but he knows it was somewhere in what has become a high-end complex. Albert explains that he has had a lot on his mind and confesses to feeling like he has let the family down. For ex-servicemen like Albert, whose identity developed in war, a feeling of diminishing manhood might be particularly acute. After being told he has not let the family down, he is invited home. With reassurance that he belongs in the family, he remains overlooking the area and starts reminiscing about his younger days as his nephews listen.

Albert: There used to be streets here as well. Loads of little two up, two down houses. ‘Dockers’ mansions’ they used to call ’em. Ragamuffins kicking footballs against the walls. The women used to come out and chase us away with their brooms… They were rough people, but they were good people. During the Blitz some of the men painted a sign on the roof of a warehouse so that the Luftwaffe pilots could read it. It said ‘Dear Adolf, you can break our windows – but not our hearts!’ Look at what they’ve done to it now!

Albert emotionally refers to the wartime experience. The strain in his voice creates a poignant scene. His deep aversion to what the area has become is made abundantly clear by his sad tone. Then, not for the first time in the episode, tension lifts. Del praises the housing development.

Del: You any idea how much these drums are worth, Rodney?

As Del speaks, so Albert looks appealingly to Rodney. Rodney tries to give Albert a reassuring look.

Del: An arm and a leg, that’s what they’re worth. Lord Linley’s got one of these. And Michael Caine. Makes you proud to be British! This is a bit of me, this is. I can see it now. Nice little black Porsche parked outside, me windsurfer tied to the roof rack.

Rodney and Albert walk back towards the van, leaving Del talking to himself.

Del: A few friends from the City arriving for a little private party in yonder pub. A few glasses of Moët and some pâté foie gras, ‘cos I’m a champagne and liver sausage sort of person, and watch the old currant bun setting behind the Docklands arena. Paradise. Wait a couple of years for property prices to rocket, then knock it out to some Arab for twice the purchase price. Lovely Jubbly!

The context of the changed face of the area is gentrification. Some might see gentrification as a great opportunity for wealth to rejuvenate a struggling place, some lament the loss of character arising from this. The change that upsets Albert, and draws Rodney to him in sympathy, excites Del, who is taken in by the yuppie persona he affects in pursuit of financial success. The view of apartments allows Del to imagine social ascent. In their different receptions to change, Albert and Del reveal an opposition that weighs heavily today, namely that of economy, growth and wealth presented as primary imperatives versus cultural memory, preservation and continuity as factors of equal or more importance.

Back at the Trotter home that night, the story takes a dramatic turn when Del answers the door to Knock-knock. Albert’s love-rival returns a gold watch found near the scene of what Albert presented as a vicious mugging. Del enters the living room and halts a nervous Albert. The truth comes out.

Del: Oi, stay right where you are! (Producing Albert’s gold watch) Knock-Knock brought this back. There’s a bit of luck, innit!

Raquel: It’s your pocket watch, Albert. Where’s he get it from?

Del: He found it in the bushes on that patch of grass near the swings.

Raquel: What, where Albert was mugged last week?

Del: No! Where Albert and Knock-Knock, while walking home from the pub, had a fight last week!

Raquel: They had a fight?

Del: Yeah, over Marlene’s mum! And Knock-Knock knocked him out! He weren’t mugged, the lying old git!

Albert went to great lengths to persist in a lie. Such was his pride that he could not admit to coming off worse in a one-on-one altercation, albeit one carrying more weight due to the struggle for the affections of Marlene’s mother.

The tale is one of how pride can sustain masculine identity and provide resistance to perceived or real reductions in status. It also shows how it can lead to denial when it is attacked. Rodney struggles to face social decline and Albert cannot bear defeat. But both find belonging in the end. For Rodney, it comes not in the executive titles but in the family space he has in some ways struggled against. For Albert, it comes not in a lie but in positive memories of people, place, and reassurance of the love of his family. Dignity may fracture and break, status might rise and fall, but where memory and kinship endure, there is solid ground to stand on.

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References

BARB (Broadcasters’ Audience Research Board), Historical Viewing Figures for Only Fools and Horses.

BBC Genome Project, Only Fools and Horses Broadcast Listings (British Broadcasting Corporation).

Clark, Steve, The Story of Only Fools and Horses (London: BBC Books, 2015).

Cooke, Lez, British Television Drama: A History (London: BFI Publishing, 2003).

Jacobs, Jason, The Intimate Screen: Early British Television Drama (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000).

Only Fools And Horses Quotes, ‘Only Fools and Horses Series 7 Episode 5 — He Ain’t Heavy, He Is My Uncle Full Script’, published 15 November 2020 (updated 17 November 2022), available at: https://onlyfoolsandhorsesquotes.com/only-fools-and-horses-series-7-episode-5-he-aint-heavy-he-is-my-uncle-full-script/ (accessed 15 February 2026).

‘Prospect of Whitby’, Wikipedia, available at: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prospect_of_Whitby (accessed 15 February 2026).

‘Shadwell Basin (London Docks redevelopment)’, Wikipedia, available at: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shadwell_Basin (accessed 15 February 2026).

‘Tobacco Dock’, Wikipedia, available at: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tobacco_Dock (accessed 15 February 2026).

‘Tobacco Road | Only Fools & Horses Tribute Wiki’, Only Fools & Horses Tribute Wiki, available at: https://onlyfoolsandhorses.fandom.com/wiki/Tobacco_Road (accessed 15 February 2026).

Webber, Richard, The Complete A–Z of Only Fools and Horses (London: Orion, 2003).

“The team” appreciate you. You are one of them, and this is made clear by the fun you are having while out on work drinks. All your colleagues have a strong rapport with each other, and your boss is five pints deep and happy with his subordinates. His satisfaction is clear by the way he is walking around the bar and backslapping his staff. You stand with your drink in hand and feel gratitude for your colleagues and a comfortable working environment. It is so good that on the occasions you express your right-of-centre views, words and nods of approval follow, and almost no opinion you share would provoke a command to attend an HR meeting. You tell everyone exactly how you would deport every illegal entrant residing in the country. After your fourth pint, you give a summary of your manifesto for ejecting undesirables who came here legally. Everyone at the gathering laps it up. Some encourage you to stand in the local elections or become an MP. The thought of working for another company could not be further from your mind.

I know only a few people whose experience of work drinks is like the situation described above. For most, the reality is very different. What follows is a guide on how to successfully navigate work drinks and avoid the tripwires and pitfalls that such events can throw up. It is relevant to people in a range of corporate and public sector environments that have a left-liberal slant. The pointers here might be of particular use to someone who is a new employee.

The first thing to do is show up. You do not have to go to every event, but complete avoidance of gatherings could lead people to think you are not a “team player”. Maybe commit to attending for an hour or two and make plans with a friend for later to avoid staying longer than is preferred.

Even if you do not feel overly comfortable with your work environment, you can still have a positive experience when out with colleagues. It is likely that a good rapport can be built by discussing a variety of things, including work, a sport, holiday destinations, some hobbies or even TV programmes. Talking about superficial topics and not oversharing can help you and your colleagues get to know each other without a needless diversion into a heated, polarising or unduly personal conversation that could make your working life uncomfortable going forward. Do not talk about your messy divorce, that you have not spoken to your sister in twenty years or another important or stressful issue. There is simply no need to share too much with someone who is not your close friend, and being too familiar on this occasion might lead to more of the same when you are back at work, regardless of whether you intended this.

Avoid the false sense of security that can ensue when positive rapport is established. When you hear an agreeable political or cultural remark, do not divulge every podcast you listen to or explain why your views are your views or get out the Substack app to reveal the list of all the writers you subscribe to. Do not mention that you were at a rally or a certain meeting a few weeks back.

You are at work to make money, progress your career, and if possible, achieve some fulfilment and personal growth. It is not a social club. Over time, you will find out who you can and cannot have more laid back and less guarded conversations with. Some people are easier to read than others. If a colleague has pronouns in their bio, an unwelcome ideological alignment or at least a willingness to conform to what are unhealthy ideas can be discerned. Do not hit this person with a comment making the obvious point that men cannot become women or vice versa; this could jeopardise a sense of relative calm at work and even your job. It is helpful for us that these leftist hallmarks exist. When you encounter the pronouns, the ‘‘Progress” flag lanyards, the coloured hair and faces punctuated with piercings, you should know where the line is. And consider a new role if the workplace is full of these people.

Be pleasant and upbeat. If you are friendly, polite and positive, then this will likely translate into a good experience when you next come into the office. Offer to buy someone a drink and do not be shy about receiving one. Have interactions with a range of people and make your way around the room; this will help you to come across as someone who can get along with the team generally.

Avoid getting drunk. If you are out with co-workers who you have known for years and years, then you might not need to worry very much about this. Those who are new to a role or who do not have a high degree of comfort with their situation would do well to remain somewhat guarded. It would be a shame if what could be a calm engagement became a weekend of wondering what you said to who or if inappropriate behaviour caused offence. A couple of drinks might help you to relax and enjoy the evening. Overdoing it presents easily avoidable risks. You are not out celebrating your team winning the league.

The right time to leave might depend on context. A short attendance where you ‘‘show your face’’ is not the worst thing; it is better to go a bit further and ‘‘make the effort’’. Situating yourself in between the brief visitor and the lifers who will be at the bar until closing time will indicate a willingness to be a good team player. Leaving at a reasonable time ahead of other plans made for later in the evening or things you need to get up early for the next day positively reflects a life and responsibilities outside your job, and that you do not depend on work and colleagues for a sense of self-worth.

You might be tempted to stand at the bar all night with Barry, who has been at the company for years and years and never gave a thought to leaving. Over eight pints, he will be happy to talk endlessly about managers who left five years ago, how things went before everything was ‘‘digitised’’, the office layout before it was refurbished in 2014, the attractive person who got engaged and quit the company two weeks before you joined, and general company lore. I would try and avoid all this.

I have heard some cases of work drinks going really badly, so I just thought that I would share my thoughts on the subject.

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The idea of an enchantment of England features regularly in Roger Scruton's England: An Elegy, published in the year 2000. The author finds this enchantment in the wondrous expression of the English religion. Scruton argues that the English wore their religion loosely. The Church of England was a compromise. He credits the institution with sanctifying the English language and providing a unique sense of home. English sovereignty and religion were seen as one and the same.

In the nineteenth century, the Gothic revival was an integral part of the English settlement. It was ‘a good-natured attempt to ensure that God found suitable accommodation in the country that was his’.1 Scruton acknowledges the impact of this revival on the continent, but only in England and its colonies did neo-Gothic architecture ‘fulfil its spiritual mission, as an unassuming vernacular idiom which remade the landscape of something ancient and immune to change. It was a deeply moral architecture, composed in a syntax that deliberately denied the manufacturies which made it possible, just as biblical English denied the everyday speech of those who used it in their worship. And, having established its legitimacy in ecclesiastical use, the neo-Gothic style rapidly spread through the culture, encrusting factories, law courts, schools, colleges, waterworks, railway stations and houses with fairytale pinnacles and dreaming towers. To the visiting architectural historian it had turned the English towns and cities into vast arenas of pretence, as hypocritical in their appearance as in the religious manners which the buildings signified. To the English, however, the Gothic revival was simply a new way to affirm their ownership of England, and to restore their country to its true condition of enchantment.’2

Wondrous spires, elegant tracery, ribbed vaults and flying buttresses are features of religious Gothic buildings that reveal great sacrifice, imagination, faith, devotion and love. These monuments draw the eyes upwards and can impress on the beholder a sense of their own insignificance relative to the transcendence that inspired such architectural achievements. The journeying of the style from the ecclesiastical sphere made magical sparks fly throughout civic life and confer dignity and grandeur onto the public space.

Scruton understood that the English wore their Christianity loosely. The 1851 Census found only half of English people were regular churchgoers, but the national religion was still in some ways serious.3 The seriousness of the English religious character reveals itself in the interiors of many of our churches and in our observances. Our ‘pews are hard, uncomfortable, designed not for lingering and listening but for moments of penitence and doubt. The architecture is noble but bare and quiet, without the lofty aspiration of the French Gothic or the devotional intimacy of an Italian chapel.’4

For Scruton, the Church of England (C of E) was a compromise between unreformed and reformed elements of Christianity. He conveys his support for this settlement and describes it wonderfully.5

That this had come about without a painful history was evident from the very appearance of those quiet interiors. Iconoclasm and puritan vandalism had swept through these arches like a boiling tide through seashore caverns and retreating, had left them bare. But you sensed too that storms had passed, that the architecture was the purer and the clearer for the brutal torrent that had washed away its ornaments, and that the stunned tranquillity of those pitted walls would remain everlastingly.6

Scruton saw the sanctification of the English language as the most important social achievement of the C of E. He surveys the journey of an English religious vernacular. During the reign of Henry VIII, an English bible was published under the name of Miles Coverdale in 1535, but with material ‘largely pillaged’ from William Tyndale, who was burned at the stake in Brussels a year later. The English prayer book imposed in its final form by the Act of Uniformity of 1662, like the King James Bible, had come into being after over a century of experiment. Scruton credits Tyndale and Thomas Cranmer with creating an ‘extraordinary idiom which enabled the English to express complex moral sentiments in direct and simple terms and to endow the objects and institution of their world with a nimbus of homegrown clarity.’ Scruton attributes religious compromise in England to the place of the national religious language as a common possession.7

The church and its surroundings provided a unique sense of home. Scruton recalls his father ‘delighted in country lanes, where you could contemplate the beauty of a landscape made in the image of an Anglican God’.8 ‘More than in any country I have visited, the English country church was a home-God’s house, the private space which was both here and elsewhere a part of England, and an immortal projection of England in a realm beyond space and time.’9 The serenity of the rural church environment, sequestered from industry and commerce, is a distinguishing feature of the English countryside that still offers a sense of magic today.

For the English, ‘sovereignty and the national religion were ultimately identical’. ‘Hostility to Rome was more an expression of national identity than of doctrinal dissidence’. The Stuarts were rejected because their Catholic connections threatened the safety of the realm.10 Roman Catholicism had meant foreign allegiance.11 The English understanding of sovereignty and religion finds expression in the true meaning of the law of succession. The expectation is not for the monarch to be Protestant in any real sense, ‘but that he or she should be wholly and exclusively committed to upholding the law, customs, and sovereignty of the English people. This deeply rooted attitude to the law is what makes so many English people antagonistic to the European Union, the European Courts and the ‘directives’ of the European commission, which are orders dictated from on high rather than discovered within.’12 It is in this context that some accuse Elizabeth II of breaking her promise to govern according to the ‘laws and customs’ of the United Kingdom.

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I hope you liked this summary of Scruton’s chapter on English Christianity. The next piece in this series will be about his views on ‘The English Law’.

Likes, restacks and comments are appreciated.

In a recent video, ‘Why they hate British Food’, Richard the Fourth (RTF) opposes liberal attacks on our cuisine that slam British meals as dull and bland. He says these critiques are of the same kind as those that tell white Brits our lives and communities, like our diet, need to be ‘‘spiced up’’ by all things foreign. The vlogger understands the cliché of bad British food is consistent with the promotion of demographic displacement. Although logic dictates that having an international range of cuisine is no way dependent on annually importing hundreds of thousands or millions of people into the country, the trite reference to foreign food is made by open-border fanatics when they attempt to justify mass immigration and ‘‘diversity”. Facile liberal pronouncements referring to foreign fare ignore the depth and complexity of culture and betray an unwillingness or incapacity to treat serious issues with importance. A recent example of this came when Piers Morgan claimed British cuisine before mass immigration was ‘crap’ and ‘inedible’. He said he would happily trade a lot of English people for his weekly curry.

RTF counters the attack on British food by noting its quality and generally healthy substance. We have high quality soil and good ingredients. High standard vegetables can be grown and brilliant meat enjoyed. Comments under his video by those from other countries are appreciative of our cuisine. A selection is as follows:

I'm french and your food is way better than what people say.

I'm not British and I love British food.

My wife is Japanese, land of quality food. She loves British food.

I lived in UK for 6 months, and have travelled to England, Wales, and Scotland many times. I have NEVER had a single bad meal in a pub. English/Scottish food is great.

As a German, I find the English cuisine delightful.

French-Italian man who lived 18 years in London here: fabulous English gastro pubs have flourished over the years and yes, proper English food is pretty good and often excellent.

I’m Belgian. I agree, for once, with the Frenchman. I love British food. People around the world enjoy British haute cuisine on the daily, without knowing or wanting to admit where it came from.

A Pole who used to live in Britain here, I love Sunday roast and Xmas dinner, I'm also a huge fan of a trad English breakfast . Whoever says your food is bad is clearly delusional.

RTF argues that if our food is cared for, it can be wonderful. Alternatively, if we fail to appreciate it or cook it properly, we will not produce something good. Like so many things, it can be done well and not very well. He applies this logic to the current cultural predicament and makes an analogy containing a positive connection between national cuisine and civilisation well cared for and the adverse impact on a civilisation when its food is neglected. This point has some merit. It is reasonable to expect that a people who lose pride in something as fundamental as their food, and remain passive when it is denigrated, might cease to be attentive to other aspects of their culture.

RTF is aware of the ritual function of food. If the national cuisine is made the subject of derision, contempt and attempts to make it appear low status, it is not hard to understand how such efforts will have knock on effects and reduce the cultural confidence of the disparaged group. Those who attack our national dishes aim to dampen the native spirit in the service of wetting compulsively cosmopolitan appetites. It is not a coincidence that those who malign our sustenance are invariably liberal and left wing. People whose media consumption consists chiefly of regime- approved talking heads will be particularly susceptible to the mindless guff that pours out the mouths of those like Morgan.

RTF did a good job of challenging the discourse around British food, but his video could have been better. The beautiful visuals of breathtaking British scenery that routinely accompany his work are always welcome. Merging these images with slow-motion footage of succulent British dishes, think M&S ads, would have enhanced his case for British cuisine. RTF could have gone into more specifics as per various meals. He is understandably conscious of the workings of the YouTube algorithm and the need to maintain a steady flow of content. Such considerations can impact quality. Perhaps a bit more time on his piece could have made it stronger.

Our roast dinners are of inimitable beauty. Succulent meat blends wonderfully with veg and potatoes to provide substance. The meal enables the full appreciation of natural flavours uninhibited by too much spice. Its softer elements of stuffing, Yorkshire pudding, gravy, and a drop of mint or cranberry sauce on the side create a well balanced and delectable offering that has the right amount of sweetness. The meal is conducive to a well functioning digestive system. I have never heard someone utter the phrase: “I had a bad roast the other day and was up being sick and could have shat through the eye of a needle.” I suspect many of you might have had such a time with foreign fare. And we have more than roast dinners to offer; there is Shepherd’s pie, haggis, Ploughman’s lunch, beef Wellington, the Cornish pasty, and much more. These foods have distinct qualities and suit a range of moods and occasions.

It would be remiss not to state that there is nothing wrong with consuming the food of other cultures from time to time, but we should have high standards when we do and distinguish between foreign food and foreign muck. Fine food from all over the world is readily available to us. Unfortunately, the proliferation of par or sub-par foreign outlets reduces the overall quality on offer. There are an inordinate number of Islamic and third and second world fast food outlets selling mediocre grease and slop. Examples include endless shabby kebab, burger, fried chicken, pizza, and even fish and chip shops. Some foreign sellers of fish and chips arrogate the term ‘traditional’. This implies a continuity with traditional British fish and chip businesses. The reality often involves people with a tenuous grasp of the English language operating halal outlets at variance with a traditionally British aesthetic. These places provide the usual grease and slop experience. The prevalence of such shops causes the disfigurement of high streets and town centres via tiring sameness, tacky signage and cultural alienation.

Opposing the march of halal is another reason to boycott these places. Many outlets in our cities have no regard for people who do not wish to eat halal meat; seeking a non-halal option can feel like trying to find a needle in a haystack. We can insist on non-halal options with the same vigour as those who demand halal. When we eschew halal, we uphold our right to adhere to our cultural norms. Submission to the practices of imported groups abases the native; this is even without the issue of animal rights.

Illegal and unneeded ‘legal’ immigrants ferry slop for mercenary companies like Uber Eats and Deliveroo. In rejecting these services, we stand against illegal immigration, high crime rates and the lowering of wages synonymous with the foreign muck economy. In our major cities, delivery drivers ride bikes with fast food bags tied to their backs; this is a ubiquitous aspect of the miserable Yookay aesthetic. Many of these people often have no etiquette and shamelessly peddle across pedestrian spaces while speaking loudly in grating alien tongues. For the native, this is a source of alienation and is generally unpleasant. Using these services is not an acceptable evil. We know full well what impact they have, and renouncing these companies in the cause of native preference will lessen the harm caused. One might say that immigrant groups provide them with enough custom anyway, and that a boycott will not solve the problem. While this may be true to some extent, it does not mean we should finance something that is harmful to us. Native rejection would cause a significant reduction in the profits made by muck merchants.

In the event of post-Yookay reconstruction, one would hope that our people are met with incentives to open food and drink businesses. Native cuisine is still a massive part of life in Britain. Countless pubs proudly advertise Sunday roasts and many restaurants promote British menus, but the potential for the culinary arts to enchant our national culture by its rich history, tradition and aesthetics is too often unrealised. The word vibrant finds regular use to describe places where foreign food is prevalent. Our culinary culture can be more vibrant than perhaps many imagine. This realisation is the inspiration for the Box Britain project I began in 2024 and will develop in the coming weeks and months. Box Britain is an imagined food and drink complex selling native fare in an environment with aesthetics true to our heritage and culture (see pieces linked to below). It even has its own alternative to Deliveroo and Uber Eats in the form of Baz and Dave the delivery drivers. I hope that one day my idea will ignite the imagination of someone with the capital and skill to create it in the real world. Unfortunately, such a project is way beyond my financial capacity.

We have a positive role to play in the conversation about British food by coming to its defence the next time someone derides it to affirm their left-liberal credentials and/or ethnic hatred of us. If you start buying and cooking more of it, that would be even better.

Likes, shares and comments are appreciated.

References

Richard the Fourth, Why they hate British Food, YouTube, 25/12/25, accessed: 13/1/26,

Anuj Sing Kushwaha, Piers Morgan reacts to post slamming him for saying new cultures improved English food, claims he’d trade “English people” for “chicken tikka masala”, Sportsskeeda, 28/11/25, accessed: 18/1/26, https://www.sportskeeda.com/us/podcasts/news-piers-morgan-reacts-post-slamming-saying-new-cultures-improved-english-food-claims-he-d-trade-english-people-chicken-tikka-masala

Rachel Burford, Delivery drivers arrested in London as dozens face deportation for illegal working, The Standard 5/12/25, accessed: 13/1/26, https://www.standard.co.uk/news/politics/delivery-drivers-illegal-working-arrests-home-secretary-b1261276.html

There’s something about Dr Mary is an episode of American sitcom Frasier memorable for its racial subject matter and the impersonation of an African-American woman by radio host and psychiatrist Dr Frasier Crane (Kelsey Grammer). The show first aired on February 17, 2000. In some ways, the programme serves as an allegory for the white experience in the West today. It was written by Jay Kogen and directed by Wil Shriner. Kogen's filmography includes other Frasier episodes and shows of The Simpsons and Malcolm in the Middle. Shriner is an actor, comedian, film director, screenwriter and game show host. He has directed episodes of Everybody Loves Raymond and Becker.

The episode starts with Frasier having to find someone to cover his producer, Roz Doyle (Peri Gilpin) for a short time while she is away from work. He looks to an organisation that offers career training for those stuck in tedious jobs and gives an opportunity to Mary Thomas (Kim Coles), who was sent to him by this group.

Frasier tells an initially taciturn Mary that she is free to speak on air, as Roz does, while producing his show. After being given an inch, Mary takes a yard and begins to dominate. To the disgust of Frasier, she tells a female caller to lock her husband out of the house in response to claims he is cheating on her. Mary’s approach is the antithesis of Frasier’s professional and contemplative style. She is loud, overbearing and jolly, and her stereotypical African-American manner contrasts starkly with Frasier.

When Frasier comes home from work, his dad Martin (John Mahoney), having heard the radio, says it seems Mary is filling in for Frasier rather than Roz. He attributes his son’s failure to confront Mary and her encroachment to her being black. Martin opines that sometimes too much sensitivity can be shown when dealing with these issues. He says if Roz was blabbing too much, Frasier would have no problem telling her to be quiet. Frasier says that race has nothing to do with it.

The situation spirals later on when KACL radio station manager Kenny Daly (Tom McGowan) says he is ecstatic with Frasier and Mary as a duo and their fine show ratings. The psychiatrist’s dissatisfaction with Mary grows. He is angry because of her arrogation of the title of Dr and the bad advice she gives to callers. Martin says Frasier should tell Mary to “shut her big bazoo”. Having the former police officer advocate for a forceful and honest approach is consistent with his no nonsense blue-collar character. It contrasts starkly with the anxieties of the bourgeois Frasier in a way that shows the differences between some middle and working class responses to racial issues. Frasier’s brother Niles (David Hyde Pierce) advises him to be honest with Mary.

The psychiatrist replies, ‘‘How do you suggest I accomplish that without sounding like a complete bigot?’’ In asking this question, Frasier accepts the racial reality of the problem.

Niles suggests Frasier speak to Mary in a diplomatic manner, and his brother initiates a role play with Niles as Frasier and Frasier as Mary. A very amusing scene follows where the radio host adopts a stereotypical African American demeanour and accent (see a video and a script of the scene below).

Frasier: [hot under the collar] Fine, fine, all right, Niles. Just
exactly how would that go?! Why don’t you play me and I’ll
be Mary.
Niles: All right. [calm] Er, Mary?
Frasier: [quick] Frasier!
Niles: I’ve been meaning to speak to you. You know, people listen
to the show for my expertise.
Frasier: Oh, so my opinion’s not worth anything?
Niles: Well, I’m the one with the medical degree. Now I want you to
contribute, but only up to a point.
Frasier: So, you want me to stay in my place, Massa!
Niles: She’s not going to say “Massa”...

Frasier throws in stereotypical African-American woman speech and
gestures, including the neck rolling.

Frasier: What, am I getting too uppity for you? You sherry-swelling,
opera-loving, Armani-wearing elitist! You have no idea how
difficult it is for a black woman in a white man’s world!
Niles: Frasier...
Frasier: I don’t think so! [breaking up] Look at me! This is
ridiculous. I have walked myself straight into a minefield.

Frasier’s concern over damage to his reputation is very serious, and it is fair to say many white middle class people care a lot about not being called “racist” and try to accept, at least publicly, what progressive theology says about racism. The episode is honest about the potential for Mary to harm Frasier by leveraging her race against him; Grammer conveys this impressively through Frasier’s overwrought presentation.

Those who are fans of the sitcom would likely accept that Frasier would prefer to approach Mary tactfully if he felt he could. Like a lot of white liberals or normies, he is someone who wants to be as nice as he can. Both fear and a moral need to adhere to his better nature are primary factors. Many people have been in similar situations, albeit in totally different work environments, and we would have thought about potential pitfalls when it comes to managing such challenges.

When Martin says that Mary could behave however she likes if she had her own programme, Frasier advances this idea to Kenny to avoid honestly addressing his issue. Instead of giving Mary her own slot, Kenny has the pair sitting close together on Frasier's show. The new producer is an African American woman who is loud like Mary. The females shout at each other while a dispirited Frasier sits as a bystander on his own programme; his professional life is turned upside down.

Frasier’s plight somewhat reflects the white experience of today. An inclination to be nice, avoid causing offence and a fear of being cast as a bigot deters him from opposing undesirable change. These same considerations have shaped many white responses to unsolicited demographic upheaval and attendant issues. In the West, failures to arrest encroachment have led to the upending of the places that once provided a sense of belonging; this mirrors Frasier’s struggles with Mary. The racial tripwires he fears treading on are ubiquitous today when the need arises to speak openly about a raft of subjects, including demographic displacement and sexual and violent crime. An insufficiently sensitive approach or one misplaced word might invite opprobrium, even when the point being made is valid.

It is not easy to imagine a sitcom being made that addresses racial subject matter in this way in 2026. Frasier's impersonation in particular would offend leftist sensibilities. The segment was not malicious, and it should be permissible in a healthy society.

All likes, shares and comments are appreciated.

References

Wikipedia contributors. "Jay Kogen." Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia. Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, 20 Dec. 2025. Web. 2 Jan. 2026.

Wikipedia contributors. "Wil Shriner." Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia. Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, 24 Jun. 2024. Web. 2 Jan. 2026.

Frasier, There’s something about Dr Mary, February 17, 2000, NBC

KACL70.net, 7.16, There’s something about Dr Mary, https://www.kacl780.net/frasier/transcripts/season_7/episode_16/something_about_dr_mary.html, accessed: 28/12/2025

The Greeting Card Association (GCA) estimates that one billion Christmas cards are sent annually in the United Kingdom. In an age where written, spoken and visual messages can reach friends and family instantly, wherever in the world they may be, and where we do not need the postal service to break long and often painful periods of silence, this number is incredible.

Henry Cole, the inventor and civil servant, commissioned John Chalcott Horsley to produce the first modern commercial Christmas card in 1843. The cost of a card was initially a shilling, which was quite expensive. However, the introduction of the universal penny post in 1840 laid the foundation for the affordability and profitability of Christmas cards. This change meant post paid for by the sender cost only a penny. Later in the nineteenth century, sending Christmas cards became widespread. In 1877, an annual report from the Postmaster General noted an additional 4.5 million letters delivered across the festive season; this great increase over the Christmas period continues today. The rise of the Christmas card was concurrent with the Victorian development of the modern Christmas that included trees, crackers and emphasis on children and family.

Some report declining Christmas card sales in recent times. Royal Mail figures reveal the number of letters sent in the three months to the end of the year fell last year by 7% compared with the previous year, from just under 1.8 billion to 1.65 billion. Some smaller high street shops report declining sales and cite the cost of living, competition from online outlets, e-cards, and that the price of a first class stamp exceeds the cost of some cards as contributing factors. David Ward, whose family have run a post office in East Barkwith, Lincolnshire for the last fifty years, detects an overall reduction but notes an upturn in trade over the last few years that he attributes to bespoke Lincolnshire cards; this may indicate a greater willingness of the consumer to purchase something that will offer a unique festive greeting. Despite the drop recorded by the Royal Mail and the struggles of some retailers, the number of letters sent indicates a flourishing festive trade. A 13.5% increase in sales of John Lewis boxed cards from last year indicates the continuing appeal of an enduring tradition.

Christmas cards, particularly those carrying a personalised message, allow the sender to convey thought and care. E-cards have a more detached feel and betray an unwillingness to invest time in the recipient. The digital greeting lacks the human touch that a handwritten note and a well chosen card provides.

Introducing children to Christmas cards shows teaches the virtues of care and regard for family and close friends. It is a good immersion into traditional festive imagery and the Christmas spirit. It also provides a good opportunity to impart the declining skill of handwriting.

A cosy seasonal ambience can be created by suitably positioning Christmas cards on the mantle piece and by the use of string to display cards along the perimeter of the living room.

At a time when so many positive traditions are being eroded in an increasingly technological age, the Christmas card continues triumphant and refuses to become an anachronism. It is far from moribund and should be with us for a considerable time to come.

Likes, shares and comments are appreciated.

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The Heritage Site turned four this month. Many thanks to all those who support my work.

I will be back in January 2026. Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

References

Katy Prickett and John Devine, BBC, Christmas card sales are down 22%, say retailer, 9/12/25, https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/articles/cqjge02y109o, accessed: 15/12/25

Gemma Dawson, BBC, Do we still send Christmas cards?, 1/12/25, accessed: https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/articles/c0kd8j1m420o, accessed: 15/12/25

The Postal Museum, World’s First Christmas Card, How did the tradition of sending Christmas cards start?, YouTube, 18/12/2020, accessed: 15/12/25

Peter Whittle (1961-2025), the founder and director of think tank The New Culture Forum (NCF), passed away on the 27th of November. Whittle made his May diagnosis of stage four cancer public on October 14th. He was sixty-four years old. Whittle was a Member of the London Assembly from 2016-2021 and Deputy Leader of the UK Independence Party (UKIP) between 2016-2017. Before starting the NCF in 2006, he already had a successful media career.

When I first found the NCF about five and a half years ago, it was clear to me that the group had a polish and sophistication not easy to find in spheres of political and cultural commentary. The urbane and erudite qualities Whittle possessed made the NCF a huge success; their YouTube channel has in the region of 377,000 subscribers, and millions have seen NCF videos. Last summer, when watching their regular Saturday morning show Newspeak during Whittle’s absence, the programme did not feel the same without him. The show was still good, but without Whittle it did not have the same heft or class. He was a class presenter and interviewer who loved this country and remained steadfast in opposing its destruction. He was characteristically measured and composed, and his poise did not come at the expense of his ability to be incisive and powerful. Whittle provided insight and inspired reason over pointless rage. His manner made it easier to hear discussion of emotionally charged subjects. It was so reassuring that someone with his wit and charm could skilfully articulate the thoughts, concerns and interests of the dispossessed and disinherited majority. Many of us were very grateful that he was on our side. From what I have heard and been told, Whittle came from quite humble origins. Some might be surprised by this.

I had the pleasure of meeting Whittle while attending an NCF event for the first time in 2023 in Birmingham. I remember being very impressed by the calibre of individuals at the gathering. Whittle deserves credit for creating a political and cultural organisation that attracts positive people; this is not easy to achieve and should not be taken for granted.

Over the past couple of years in particular, the NCF has gone from strength to strength. Under the auspices of Whittle, bright young commentators such as Harrison Pitt and Connor Tomlinson have emerged. The younger dimension developed by the organisation has made it more relevant to the zoomer generation, and the group is in a good place to expand its audience.

Following the tragic news, Tomlinson revealed to Dan Wooten that Whittle was told he was not expected to live beyond the end of October. On November 1st, the founder of the NCF gave his last ever talk. It was at an event in London (see the video above). His words were moving, and he faced his illness bravely, managing to smile and speak of hope in such dire circumstances. Whittle must have known he was addressing an audience for maybe the last time. Perhaps his call for us to not give up was his way of cryptically saying goodbye and wishing us all the best. He could have made this moment all about him. Selflessly, he did not. His focus was on London and the country. Those present at the NCF Smith Lecture on November 25th to hear Emma Webb speak will not be surprised by this display of fortitude in light of her revelation that Whittle gave a speech at a literary festival just thirty minutes after being told that his cancer was terminal.

Whittle did not let his illness keep him from the work he loved. On August 24th of this year, he released a video entitled: England Awakes: Operation Raise the Colours and How We Got Here. This powerful presentation starts with a note of optimism about the Raise The Colours campaign. His message of defiance rouses the soul. The must watch video (see above) is one of the most important and heartfelt you will see. I quote extensively below from passages of his speech that relate strongly to the post-Southport Massacre context.

Something else had changed at this time, no one cared about the inevitable smears of the elites and their attack dogs in the establishment media, let alone the dishevelled gangs of masked shrieking communists. Far right, nazis, England doesn’t care much for those words anymore. They have seen the atrocities that such words shield. The left’s moral authority has disintegrated. The public have seen them for what they are. And they have seen the great Blairite project for what it is, the dispossession of their own nation. And what is a nation, it’s a people united by a common descent, history, culture, language inhabiting a particular country. All of these elements are in the process of deconstruction in Britain, replaced by a Balkanised global mass, an island of strangers. The most crucial element of a nation to destroy is its reciprocal sense of allegiance and loyalty. An idea so integral to any human society, that in most it doesn’t even need saying. Namely, that the nation exists primarily to protect and advance the interests of its own people. That central pillar of the social contract has in Britain been smashed to pieces. What underlies mass immigration, the fake refugee hotels, two-tier policing, the rape gang scandal, the trashing of our history, the constant demonisation of our nation and of white people is the fanatical desire to prioritise to elevate the foreign over the indigenous. The English must have no more right to England’s land than a Kashmiri peasant. Some would call the official ideology of the British state anti-racist, while I would call it institutionally treasonous. The former Labour strategist John Mcternan is at least honest about this project. Ethnic displacement of the English in their capital is a great triumph for him. Even the concept of ethnic English to him is truly evil. Such views are commonplace on the British left. Do not underestimate their hatred of Britain and its people.

In raising their flags across the country, the message of the English is quite clear, this land is not a refugee camp, it is not UN territory, it is a nation, it is England. It took us a thousand years to build it and it’s ours. It is not a dumping ground for Syrian rapists, Afghani terrorists or Sudanese machete gangs. They have no business here. Immigrants should be a benefit to the British as many are, not the butchers of our schoolgirls, nor the violent clannish predators of hostile and alien lands. We are done with all this, and we are done pretending otherwise. The English are finally waking up, and a generational slumber is coming to an end. What they have awoken to is an existentially alarming site, and there are no paths forward without significant difficulties. But do not despair things are moving fast. Forty-five per cent of the public now want deportations of illegals and recent arrivals, and we still have four more years of this Labour government to go. We may be a long way from port, but the wind is at our backs. So take your flags and get to work. England expects.

Whittle’s ability to produce a brilliant piece like this while facing death attests to his courage and dedication. At the time of writing, it has 422,000 views on YouTube. His trenchant work gets to the heart of its subject perfectly. The best way to honour his legacy would be to restore the country he loved.

In addition to what he has done in politics and at the NCF, he leaves behind a significant body of work from his prior media career. Undoubtedly, many will learn more about his achievements following his passing.

If you have not seen it already, I suggest you watch the moving tribute by Rafe Heydel-Mankoo at the Smith Lecture 2025 (see below). Whittle was too unwell to attend the event, but I hope he managed to hear the speech before his passing.

Many of us are really going to miss him.

RIP

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The opening of the advert (see above) is made ridiculous by strange hand gestures, and more of the same follows as Chelsea footballer Cole Palmer poses with teenagers. The selection of Palmer, who has some St Kitts heritage, is consistent with what seems like a policy of avoiding white footballers who lack the non-European background JD is devoted to. Just look at their casting decisions over recent years.

At the ten-second mark, the viewer is told ‘‘We wanted to see the future, so we handed 266 young people a phone.” A chaotic sequence of flickering images follows. One young person identifies himself as Mario, but his significance to any point the advert might be trying to make is not explained, and his introduction is meaningless.

Then three boys appear with the usual obtuse hand signals and hooded display. In fairness, there is a mention of GCSE results, which at least might encourage aspiration. As the three males fade from view, an overweight man, whose tacky and chunky chain has shades of Michael Caroll about it, gets his haircut at the twenty-second mark. By this time, the advert seems to be suggesting that JD attire is a suitable accompaniment not just for indolent loitering, hand movements indicative of severe retardation, or burglary, but for whatever else one might be doing.

At the twenty-three-second mark, two boys are at a leisure centre. The next clip features a surprising embrace between a young white couple, but for only a second or so.

Any expectation that the advert may be more wholesome than we should expect from the brand is dashed at the twenty-seven-second mark when the phrase, ‘‘I’d love to become famous’’ is heard, and a teen grins broadly while in a state of animation that has no discernible cause. This utterance is in keeping with the promotion of a culture that encourages fame for its own sake rather than esteem and recognition won by skill or virtue.

Things improve a bit when a young male says he wants to be a pharmacist. Then someone with a foreign accent says something along the lines of, ‘‘You can make fail, you can make mistakes.’’ The origin of the speaker is unclear, but the Yookay character of the piece is not. Another voice says, ‘‘I’m scared, I don’t know what to do with my life.” This expression of youthful confusion is in keeping with the chaotic offering from the retailer.

At the forty-second mark, two youths embrace after appearing to receive exam results. The clip represents another fleeting moment where JD seems to flirt with the idea of rising above its deadbeat image. Usual service resumes when two girls swing from handlebars on public transport. The scene is a reminder that a general lack of civility, and not just loudness, is a prevailing feature when commuting in the Yookay. Evidently, some need to be reminded that handlebars are not climbing frames.

Further mention of GCSE results follows before two youths run down a street, and a car drives down the road. Again, the vanishing nature of the clips and a lack of connection between the various images makes the advert a complete mess.

A youth receives some direction while boxing. In this incredibly brief moment, a white male is shown in a leadership role. I must admit to my shock at seeing this, but as was the case with the frame featuring a white couple, the image disappears in short time.

A schoolkid throws some punches in the air while in a state of heightened animation. The cause of his excitement is not hinted at. It is all very bizarre. A voice proclaims, ‘‘I want to have fun, get me, times are changing, you boomers (or zoomers) can’t relate to us.” I believe the term boomer and not zoomer can be heard, but I am not completely sure. The term ‘‘get me’’ announces the usually grating articulation of someone who uses such a phrase. It is up there with, ‘‘I ain’t gonna lie’’ and the drawn out utterance of ‘‘Do you know what I mean?” A reason why anyone should want to relate to the cretinous behaviour shown in the video is not provided.

The discursive chaos is unceasing. We see a weird handshake, stunts on bikes, basketball, a toddler on the stairs, a youth jumps to embrace another, then more bikes, the camera goes upside down and inevitably, more ridiculous hand signals manifest. At the seventy-five-second mark, a young boy throws a punch near Father Christmas; this is simply uncalled-for.

To answer the question of the commercial title, ‘‘Where are you going?” Nowhere near JD Sports, and this should be the view of any moral and normal person.

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Boiling water was the weapon of choice when Axel Rudakubana, the perpetrator of the Southport Massacre, attacked a prison officer at HMP Belmarsh last May. Some ask why he had access to a kettle. Why should he have water at all? On what moral basis should he possess more than what he deprived his victims of? How Rudakubana is executed should be the ques…

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Not getting a seat on public transport while the cacophonous babble of umpteen languages and electronic devices blare is a routine experience in the Yookay. The ubiquity of foreign signage, billboards advising ‘‘communities’’ to send money home, invasive street praying, public service staff who cannot speak English properly, endless lines of halal butchers, innumerable fried chicken outlets and suspiciously empty vape and Turkish barber shops are other aspects of this grubby entity of replacement. The GB News documentary Yookay vs Britain: How immigration transformed a nation by Steven Edginton is an important work that looks behind the Yookay aesthetic.1

The programme features a series of interviews. At the start of the documentary, historian David Starkey tells Edginton that drill music with lyrics detailing ‘‘unconscionable violence’’ and ‘‘contempt for women’’ are promoted by the BBC, and he is right about this. The eagerness of the BBC to broadcast the genre led them to platform a murderer who was investigated for lyrically glorifying his slaying of Jimmy Mizen.2

Instead of offering punditry from afar, Edginton visits a drill producer who goes by the name of Fumez The Engineer. Awards won by Fumez are on display as the pair walk along a corridor at a studio. After seeing a Union Flag on one of the prizes, the journalist asks his host if he is a proud British producer. Fumez replies: “I come from the UK, it’s like, this is where it started, so for me it’s like, I have to acknowledge that my core fan base is in the UK.” He evinces a matter of fact detachment from Britain that is often evident in those who refer to the country as the UK. The references to where it started and his core fan base convey nothing more than bare facts and commercial interest (see minute six).

Fumez declines to make a moral judgement on drill and says that, ‘‘he cannot speak on what it encourages’’. The inability to address the content of his genre is a failure. Fumez unconvincingly claims that drill is unfairly looked at, and that the older rap was the same. The latter point has some merit, but while rap of the past had violent aspects, its other elements could sometimes offset these. Drill has a decidedly bloodthirsty and criminal character. Fumez did nothing to counter this assessment.

Edginton states: “In old Britain, culture meant Shakespeare and Elgar, in the Yookay, it’s masked rappers, viral beefs and beats soaked in violence.” This observation is sloppy. While he rightly detects the decline of the cultural landscape that the existence of drill so starkly represents, to contrast it with the high culture that Shakespeare and Elgar embody is unfair. A fairer comparison would be with the music popular in cities among the working class in past eras.

The torn social fabric of Britain is palpable when Edginton attends Brixton, south London. He asks a woman what it means to be British, and she responds that despite being born here, she is rejected as a black woman (see minute fifteen). She comes from the lionised Windrush influx, and she claims these immigrants ‘‘built the roads, came here built up the country’’. She complains, ‘‘they’re still stigmatising us as black people, and putting us down, that’s what it means to be British’’. Given the state of the education system, it is unsurprising to hear that it was West Indians and not the Romans who built the roads.3 (At least the Windrush entrants worked, but this is hardly cause for obsequious treatment and a central place in a false national founding myth). She mentions the usual dross about racism, to which a fitting retort is to ask why so many continue to flood Britain if it is so “racist”? She is indignant that the British state has paid no reparations for slavery but fails to acknowledge the African role in that trade.

She scoffs and says that to be British is to be a sheep. She purses her lips, angrily contorts her face and inevitably utters the word ‘‘racist” when interrupting Edginton, who asks her about Winston Churchill and the Duke of Wellington. Recourse to this term often occurs when reason and an evidence led response cannot be found. She foolishly includes Alfred The Great and Lord Nelson as among ‘‘racist slave owners’’ to underline her historical illiteracy and vituperate stupidity before threatening a ‘‘backlash’’. We should not have to share a society with people like this. Her antipathy towards the host population renders her a barrier to any positive national civic culture.

Next up, Edginton talks to a British woman who immediately refers to her ancestry in response to a question about what it means to be British. Heredity dictates her affinity. She is unhappy with the state of Britain today and clearly not comfortable going into much detail on camera. This is with good reason. Such inhibition contrasts markedly with the vitriolic anti-British woman whose contempt was unabashed. The state encourages minorities with anti-white British views to express these. The establishment portrays foreign identities as sources of unalloyed good. Conversely, traditional British identity is subject to endless interrogation and demonisation. ‘‘Tolerance’’ and rafts of legislation are urged onto the natives, and the risk of ostracism through accusations of ‘‘racism’’ are meant to deter resistance to the dispossession project.

Of Alfred The Great, Lord Nelson and the Duke of Wellington she says, ‘‘They saved things, so they were good men in that respect.’’ The answer reveals positive regard for those who fought to secure the self-determination of her people. She understands the country had things worth preserving and knows that her identity is continuous with the British past. This sentiment is antithetical to the Yookay, which effaces the natives demographically and culturally.

The next interviewee is a flagrant example of what happens when a country is repurposed from a home to a landmass where economic self-interest is advanced above all else (see minute nineteen). A man responds to a question about what it means to be British by comparing the strength of the pound and the dollar. He says nothing about the history of Britain, and he speaks in useless English regarding getting about easily on public transport and ‘‘exceeding job offer”. He only came here two years ago and preposterously claims that he is British. Undoubtedly, those who support his presence in Britain will embrace in equal degrees his appropriation of British nationality and any attempts he might make at denigrating or redefining it for his own ends.

The video above features an interview with the young man whose image is in the thumbnail to the documentary. This clip led to some criticism online by those who said he has issues of some kind. The segment is not in the version of the programme linked to at the top of this piece, so perhaps this concern was accepted. It is worth watching for a laugh. When the reporter asks him for his views on major British historical figures, he tells Edginton “they were just doing what they got to do”. On the face of it, this might seem like a completely useless remark, but maybe his comment has merit. Maybe it reveals an understanding that people in past epochs were not perfect and had to operate in difficult circumstances shaped by exigencies they faced. Leftists seldom consider such things when they judge people from centuries ago in an ahistorical manner. The interviewee comes across as a decent guy who was clearly excited to be talking on camera.

The documentary shifts from the urban sphere when Edginton talks to one of the latte tier agitators dedicated to the demographic overthrow of the white British population (see minute twenty-one). Neurodiversity coach and broadcaster Fahima Mohamed tells us that opposition to mass immigration is an unwarranted “panic”, and that the scale of the influx is nothing to worry about; this is exactly what someone keen to dissuade natives from resisting their displacement would say.

Mohamed claims Britain has “always evolved’’, but evolution is not an accurate way to describe the mass introduction of distinct cultures into the country. The definition of evolution is lost on her. She tries to obscure the reality of demographic displacement and the domination of parts of the country by cultures discontinuous with the British culture. She argues that British people enjoy cultural diversity. While it would be easy to obtain anecdotal evidence to show this with reference to foreign entertainments, the British have consistently voted against mass immigration since the post-war period and never solicited it from the political class.

The glaring inability of Mohamed to build a case for the Yookay manifests when she compares current “cultural mixing” to Shakespeare employing foreign words and the use of tea with milk. Mohamed betrays either a superficial understanding of the subject matter or intends to deceive the viewer. It is likely the latter. The realities of a homogeneous nation absorbing overseas elements and foreign populations entering Britain on a historically unprecedented scale defy meaningful comparison.

Mohamed fails to convincingly argue that diverse society is more agreeable than is the case and says: “People vote with their feet and taste buds a lot of the time.” They do indeed; this is why the term white flight is in common parlance and the subject of numerous articles in recent years. Leftists often announce their defeat in discussion with the trite refrain to foreign food, and this interview was no exception to the trend. The enjoyment of diverse cuisine is not cause to welcome the losses of ethnic self-determination, sovereignty and statehood, nor is it contingent on the presence of millions of foreigners. We have all the recipes anyway. Even without these, a lot of us would be happy enough with Sunday roasts and pie and mash.

Mohamed says that “seeing different languages or faiths can feel unfamiliar, but unfamiliar doesn’t mean unsafe.” Languages and faiths are not things that one can see. Even without focusing on the staggering overrepresentation of certain foreign speaking groups when it comes to crime, particularly violent and sexual crimes, there is the feeling of alienation and loss of home that arises when we endure the cacophony of every language save English. It is very likely that Mohamed speaks in the language of her ethnic group and spends time in ‘‘communities’’ that do the same. She cannot relate to the loss that many of us feel when other cultures obtrusively manifest. The issue is not just one of safety, it is also about an absence of belonging and comfort arising from the destruction of what was an agreeable society.

Mohamed continues to fail when asserting that “Britishness is about democracy, fairness and freedom, not what food you eat or what clothes you wear.” She is right to note aspects people associate with British culture, but these are not exclusive to Britain. She cannot point to anything deeper. The reference to food not mattering somewhat contradicts her earlier promotion of diverse cuisine as a central feature of this British culture that has supposedly always “evolved”. And British culture has much to do with clothing. While putting on British wares like the Savile Row suit, a bowler hat or tweed does not make one British, people can signal their cultural identity with attire. Various Islamic garments, including the burka, fit readily into distinctive foreign categories and so does traditional African dress. Groups often trumpet their otherness and non-British allegiance when such clothing is seen on our streets.

Mohamed’s floundering performance deteriorates further when Edginton tells her that until the 1950s, England had a distinct homogeneous culture. He points to the huge immigration of recent times. She starts to ramble, “Well don’t forget that Britain invited those immigrants to fight alongside it when it came to the war.” This does not address the point made by the interviewer. Rather than acknowledge the reality underlined, she ignores this because it magnifies the stark rupture of thousands of years of history that post-war immigration represents, and it debunks the nation of immigrants canard.

Mohamed jumpily refers to offensive language about immigration not being in line with so-called “British values” ‘and ‘‘British laws’’. These so-called values are without a historical lineage, recently thought up, vague, and abstract. It is unsurprising that Mohamed could not elaborate on what these are or argue that they are anything more than expedients for the defence of the status quo. The reason views against mass immigration can fall foul of the law is because of the decline of freedom of speech, which coincides with Britain becoming less ethnically homogeneous. Many feel that laws inhibiting resistance to demographic change are distinctly un-British.

A flaying Mohamed resorts to accusations of xenophobia. She accuses natives of ethnocentrism and does not say why white British people should be denied the right to such an outlook. Her discursive chaos continues as she incoherently references trade, foreign investment, a lack of skilled native workers and foreign family values etc. She has the effrontery to note declining rates of marriage and births among the indigenous population while neglecting to concede that the higher housing prices mass immigration causes contributes massively to this. Mohamed’s effort is yet another example of the glaring lack of intellectual quality on the left.

Cambridge Professor of Religion James Orr says the term UK (not the later Yookay epithet) became more prevalent in the 1990s, and that this way of viewing the country is driven by rapid demographic change. Those who use the term often show a detachment from Britain, its traditions, and culture. It reads like the end of a postcode and has a somewhat bureaucratic sound, leading many to understand it as a synonym for globalism, national decline, and cultural disinheritance.

Orr points to parallels with the current situation and the decline of the Roman Empire in the fourth and fifth century AD where there was the assertion of ethnically and culturally distinct tribes. He predicts the growth of silos with ‘‘Britishers” and ‘‘Yookayers’’ living alongside each other but not integrating a great deal.

Although the documentary did not unearth anything surprising, Edginton’s work is vital for evidencing a social fabric torn into tatters by the cultural disfigurement and destruction that the Yookay represents. His focus was on London, but his findings would be similar had he gone to any major city in Britain. Interviews with minorities who were more coherent and nuanced would have improved the work. But maybe Edginton did his best on this and had to work with what he was able to find. Maybe Mohamed was given too much time, but her inclusion was supportive of providing balance by giving the left a say. Moreover, it discredited her side of the conversation, which was positive. The programme was compelling and should have lasted longer.

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“The old Britian was built on a shared identity, loyalty and pride. The new one is built on vibes, globalism and alien cultures. Some call it progress, others call it collapse. But one thing is certain, this isn’t Britain anymore; this is the Yookay.”

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