My list of Britain’s national character flaws

Before we start, let’s firmly establish my long-standing affection for the United Kingdom. Why, some of my best friends are British. Yet at the risk of overgeneralisation, recent events have exemplified a few shortcomings in the otherwise sterling national character.

Nitpicking pettiness. We’ve whole front pages dedicated to the Labour leader’s carryout curry one evening during lockdown; to between which hours (8.40 p.m. to 10 p.m.) the offending curry was consumed (Keir Starmer’s failure to reveal if it was lamb korma or chicken vindaloo is deeply troubling); and to which other eateries were then still open. Thanks to this rigorous coverage, we all know that Starmer’s hotel was serving food outdoors until 9 p.m. Mind, this follows forensic media examination of how many occasions during lockdown the Prime Minister imbibed alcohol with colleagues, the scandal that some of said alcohol was transported in a suitcase, and the ferocious debate over whether Boris Johnson was gifted with or actually accosted by a birthday cake. (Chocolate with butter frosting or Victoria sponge? We the public have a right to know.) Other weighty recent stories vital to the national interest include exhaustive analysis of the PM’s redecoration of his flat and who paid for the curtains.

The fact that these details are so familiar should embarrass us all. I’m embarrassed. I like to imagine that I place a premium on my time, but apparently I don’t. If I die tomorrow, I’ll have spent a significant proportion of my final days repeatedly watching the same video of an innocuous-looking middle-aged man seen through a window drinking a beer. A small beer, aptly enough.