Culture

Funny, but I had picked up the idea, especially over the past year or two, that the Left was rather fond of the concept of street protest. Every time I am in Central London I seem to run into hordes of placard-holders protesting against ‘austerity’, student tuition fees, animal rights, save the NHS, war in Syria, Universal Credit and what have you. While I might disagree it has never occurred to me to try to challenge the right of these people to take to streets to make their views known. I just hope they have a good day out. But there are limits, it seems, to the Left’s enthusiasm for

If you cross the roads round Trafalgar Square, the pedestrian lights no longer show red or green men. Currently, they display same-sex gender symbols interlocked, or the transgender sign, instead. On other occasions, I have been told, they depict two women holding hands, or two men standing together. They were introduced temporarily for the Gay Pride march last year, but seem to have popped up again. Technically, this jeu d’esprit must be capable of wide variation — one could have crucifix traffic lights when the Passion is enacted in the square on Good Friday, or a pack of red/green hounds when the next Countryside March tramps by. But on the

Grass-fed beef just came off the North London dinner party menu. A report by the Food Climate Research Network at the University of Oxford dismissed claims by Prince Charles and others that grazing animals on permanent pasture can reduce carbon dioxide emissions. The old argument was that the carbon dioxide absorbed by growing grass outweighed the greenhouse gas emissions generated from the stomachs of the cows. But a comprehensive study by FCRN found that this is only the case in a very small number of well-managed farms. In most cases the amount of methane in a cow’s burps far outweighs the carbon stored in the soil through allowing grass to grow.

My old college, formerly known as New Hall, is women-only for its undergraduates. But now the term is expanding, as so often these days, to include anyone who, at the time of application, ‘identifies as female’, as well as the non-binary, those who really can’t make up their minds. During my time in college, I shared a room with another girl; quite what it would have been like to share with someone aspiring to being a woman I don’t know…presumably entirely non-threatening but a bit odd. The point about this women-only college is that it was meant to provide a bit of gender balance to the male majority in the

Is it possible that London commuters are now unable to tell the difference between the cry of God is Great, Allahu Akbar – a sentiment that unfortunately accompanies every IS atrocity – and the actual Bible? It seems like it from the reaction on the Shepperton to Waterloo service at 8.30am yesterday. As one report put it, ‘a man with a rucksack began reciting what seemed to be passages from the Old Testament. He apparently declared homosexuality and pre-marital sex to be a sin.’ Or as one commuter put it, ‘Some nutter starts reciting verses from the Bible… and causes such panic that some people have forced open the doors

When you pick up a packet of meat from the supermarket and it says ‘Willow Farms’, what is the image you conjure up in your mind? Do you imagine the chickens reared on this farm happily pecking around a thatched cottage, searching for grubs in a field that rolls gently down to a river flanked by weeping willows? Of course you don’t. You’re shopping in Tesco and you’re not that stupid. The country’s biggest retailer (and the UK’s biggest private sector employer) is not buying any of its fresh produce from small-scale farmers, especially not its chickens. Some of you, however, might reasonably expect that Willow Farm exists. That it

I got to know Hugh Hefner quite well when I lived in LA in the nineties and was a fairly regular visitor to the Playboy Mansion. As the Times of London’s Hollywood Correspondent, I was a regular on the guest list for The Playmate of the Year awards and occasionally was asked over for one of his supper evenings in his private cinema – with drinks served by waitress-style bunnies. During one Playmate of the Year awards in 1992, I wrote a piece for The Spectator about covering the LA riots from his study as the city went up in flames. Hefner’s life philosophy was that ‘Life is too short to

Housing – and specifically the dearth of reasonably priced housing – is an issue that crops up again and again in the political conversation. Young people are being priced out of the housing market; even where new housing is being built, very little of it could be classed as ‘affordable’. So today’s news that the average house price is now eight times the average wage will, probably come as little surprise. House prices have been increasing exponentially over the last few decades; in 2000, the average house was 3.96 times the average income, and even since 2007 the average house price has increased by 19%. The fact that it isn’t

Last December, Lavinia Woodward threw a laptop at her boyfriend and stabbed him in the lower leg with a breadknife, and injured two of his fingers. She then tried to stab herself with the knife before he disarmed her. For unlawful wounding, this medical student at Christchurch Oxford, could have got a three-year prison sentence; instead she got a 10-month sentence suspended for 18 months on Monday. The judge, Ian Pringle, when he first heard the case, observed that a custodial sentence would harm her career. Quite. And he declared, as he handed down the suspended sentence, that there were ‘many, many mitigating factors’ in the case, and the injuries

Do you have to be a boring lefty to enjoy the films of Ken Loach? The reason I ask is, the British Film Institute have just rereleased three of Loach’s finest films on DVD, and though I loved them when they first came out, when I sat down to watch them again, after twenty years, my heart sank. Why? Because nowadays, when people mention Ken Loach, I don’t think of his masterpieces like Kes (one of the greatest British movies ever made) so much as his dreary appearances on political discussion programmes like Question Time. Ken Loach is a socialist filmmaker – whatever that means. If you’re a socialist, maybe

How much time would you say you spent in your car per week, on average? Of course it’s something that varies hugely from person to person, but I’d put money on the fact that it’s more time than you might think. Recent research shows that the average UK driver spends 8 hours a week in their car, which works out at 18 days per year. That’s just the average, though; in the North East, ten per cent of those questioned said they spent over 20 hours per week in their car, while people in London were most likely to drive for under an hour a week. Naturally, the more time

However stressful and bad things get for a parent of young children, there is always one thought that puts it all in perspective – just wait until they’re teenagers and they’re calling you up at 3am asking for a lift from a nightclub in New Cross. So reports like this one, showing that one in four adolescent girls suffer from depression, are bound to add to that gnawing feeling of dread. Firstly the caveats – any statistic that claims ‘1 in such and such’ suffers from this, or is a victim of this, should be treated with scepticism. Depression is also an ill-understood term, a medical diagnosis widely applied by

Funnily enough, you don’t come across too many pieces in the Guardian blaming black people for crime or women for bad driving. The newspaper would perhaps consider itself a pioneer in trying to drive out racial and gender stereotypes from daily life. It seems a different matter, though, when it comes to the inadequacies of white men, or, more specifically, elderly white men, to throw in a bit of ageism as well. An extraordinary piece in today’s Guardian tries to link what it calls ‘climate denial’ to race, gender and age.      Let’s leave aside this rather oddly-expressed phenomenon —  I have yet to meet, or even hear of, anyone who denies

We at The Spectator are delighted to announce that Lionel Shriver is joining us as a columnist. As regular readers will know, she has written a few diaries for us and is one of the very best writers on either side of the Atlantic. She’s a hugely successful novelist but what marks her out as a journalist is her understanding of the currents of life and politics. Her writing has all of the qualities that Spectator readers most admire: originality of thought, elegance of expression, independence of opinion. Her first piece is a brilliant evisceration of the movement against historical statues. All of us in 22 Old Queen Street are thrilled that

The price of offshore wind power has halved, making those giant inshore turbine arrays we love to hate look competitive with new nuclear power for the first time. The headline number in this story is £57.50, which is the guaranteed electricity price per megawatt hour bid by two windfarm ventures in the government’s latest ‘contracts for difference’ subsidy auction. Both due for first delivery in 2022-23, these projects at Hornsea on the East Yorkshire coast and Moray East off the north of Scotland, are between them theoretically capable of powering 2.4 million homes. Just two years ago, windfarms were bidding up to £120 per megawatt hour in comparable auctions; their