On Christmas Eve, as my partner headed upstairs to continue his Spanish lessons, I settled down to wrap presents while watching the New Top Gear – or the ‘The Grand Tour’ to use its official name. In a section called ‘Conversation Street’, in no way a retread of a similar section on The Old Top
When the Bank of England is not indulging employees with the kind of taxpayer-funded hospitality that would make a bailed-out banker blush, its lofty and unelected officials might like to consider how they could help us ordinary mortals in the new year. It has emerged that the Old Lady of Threadneedle Street spent nearly £100,000
When I come home from work and stick my key in the door, there is a pitter-patter of tiny feet as my eight-year-old twin boys run up to me and shout: ‘Paris St-Germain won 3-1! First he scored, then he missed, then…’ They are suffering from a harmless case of sports geekery. I had it
In the year of Roald Dahl’s centenary, the Spectator Books Podcast decided to debate this sacred cow. Lucy Mangan, author of Inside Charlie’s Chocolate Factory, drapes garlands of flowers; while the critic James McConnachie readies the captive bolt gun… Who will you agree with? Find out by listening here: And if you enjoyed this week’s episode
Just what is it about the proposal to require voters to show ID that so frightens the Labour party? Funny, but this was the party which, during 13 years in power, hugely added to the surveillance state; which passed the Regulation of Investigatory Powers Act, leading to councils snooping on our wheelie bins and, in
We’re closing 2016 by republishing our ten most-read articles of the year. Here’s No. 4, in which the future foreign secretary Boris Johnson was named as the winner of Douglas Murray’s ‘President Erdogan Offensive Poetry’ competition I’m pleased to announce that we have a winner of The Spectator’s President Erdogan Offensive Poetry competition, and here
Few 20th-century historians doubted that the 1917 Russian revolution was one of the most influential events of their time, indeed of all time. As the centenary commemoration approaches, however, it seems remarkable how far and how fast the ideology that inspired Lenin and millions of his worldwide followers has receded in significance. Many are the
What price a First Lady? ‘If I offered you $10 billion,’ I once asked Donald Trump, ‘but you can’t have sex for the next ten years, would you take the deal?’ ‘Not even with your wife?’ Trump replied. ‘Definitely not with my wife.’ ‘I meant my wife!’ ‘No, not even with your wife.’ ‘No, I’d
We’re closing 2016 by republishing our ten most-read articles of the year. Here’s No. 5: Ivar Arpi’s piece, which was written following the mass sex attacks on women celebrating New Year’s Eve in Cologne. In his article, Arpi says that authorities in Sweden covered up similar incidents involving migrant men Stockholm It took days
Raised by nuns, a Catholic mother and a robustly atheist ex-Presbyterian father who said one should ask no favours, certainly not of invisible divinities, I am a bit conflicted. Prayers of thanks and for the dead are fine; but as a theological nerd, I guiltily know that demand-prayers are a debased form, not far from
Oh dear. Since David Cameron stepped down as Prime Minister, his university chum Ed Vaizey has had to get used to life on the outside. After he was axed as culture minister, Vaizey admitted he didn’t have a close relationship with Theresa May and was no longer able to ‘pick up the phone and get an answer’ from No.10.
Trump will be the best golfer ever to become president. Barack Obama is the most prolific, playing more than 300 rounds during his eight-year tenure. But his handicap remains a workmanlike 13. Trump’s is 4, which is not far off professional standard. The only other president to get anywhere close to that was John F.
There have been two revolutions in television during my lifetime. The first happened in 1975 when Sony launched its Betamax video system — which allowed viewers to record shows and see them when they wanted. Of course, Betamax was found to be clunky and unreliable and it was soon replaced by VHS but, without realising
During my years at the League Against Cruel Sports, the one single message we impressed upon people at every opportunity was that a ban on hunting with dogs was popular, simple and inexpensive. And animals, of course, would be saved from a cruel death. This belief was encouraged by a Tony Benn quote, which refers to
From Ruby Wax Q. About 15 years ago, I was sent to meet a big New York businessman for my BBC series Ruby’s American Pie. However, things didn’t go to plan after he told me on his private jet that he was thinking about becoming the President of the United States and I started laughing.
A good year for novels. Rachel Cusk’s Transit (Cape, £16.99) is a brilliant and original enterprise, as well as a hymn to the joys of the good story. Elizabeth Strout’s My Name is Lucy Barton (Viking, £12.99) shouldn’t work, but its frail texture was a triumph of tenderness, and sent me back to her excellent
Boxing Day is the one day of the year when people really come out en masse to support their local hunts. Over a quarter of a million people are expected to show their support wherever the meet may be – in town centres, country pubs or the local stately home. It won’t just be hunt
During the EU referendum, the Sun ran a front page with the headline ‘the Queen backs Brexit’. The paper reported that the Queen clashed with Nick Clegg, who was then Deputy Prime Minister, over Europe at a lunch in 2011 — at which she declared the EU was ‘heading in the wrong direction’. In the days and weeks
Perhaps the worst excuse for Britain’s massive international aid budget is that the cash will stem immigration pressures because richer countries emit fewer emmigrants. As economists cal tell you reverse is true: emigration is an expensive journey and when the poorest countries become wealthier, more people can afford to make it. So Priti Patel was not quite right when she
In 1942, a man called Manfred Alexander turned up, unannounced, on my grandfather’s doorstep in Berlin. My grandfather knew him only slightly. He hadn’t seen him for several years. Like countless Jews, Manfred had been herded onto an eastbound train the year before, bound for God knows where. He’d ended up in a Concentration Camp