At a party recently I started talking to a friendly, charming woman and we established early on that she was left-wing. We chatted about this and that and for some reason I asked her if she played golf.
‘Oh no,’ she replied. ‘As I’m left-wing, I am not allowed to play golf.’
I was taken aback. Here was a soul who would go to her grave without ever experiencing the thrill of watching her drive soar into the air and race more than 200 yards down the middle of a fairway. A feeling akin to pity brushed across my mind. Concerned, I asked if there was anything else she was not allowed to do.
‘I suppose I am not allowed to play bridge, either.’
That is not such a heavy blow, to my mind, but still, bridge is a game which I understand gives pleasant times and company to many millions. So this avenue to innocent pleasure was cut off, too.
Those of us on the right often feel a certain defensiveness when in contact with those of the opposite persuasion. We are accustomed to being attacked with self-righteous anger. We sometimes struggle to feel warmly towards those who are calling us selfish lapdogs of crony capitalism. However, perhaps we have had it all wrong. Instead of feeling bulldozed and insulted, maybe we should be offering left-wingers kindness and sympathy. They have to go without a whole range of pleasures. Golf and bridge are just the start. Left-wingers are the puritans of our age.
They are not allowed fine wines. They can have beer, since it is a working-class drink. They are surely also permitted a glass of Pinot Grigio from time to time. But champagne is risky. They don’t want to be called ‘champagne socialists’, do they? So it’s safer to stick to a modest prosecco.
Comments
Join the debate for just £1 a month
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for £3.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just £1 a monthAlready a subscriber? Log in