This time last year, I spent a memorable 40 minutes in a recycled whisky barrel buffeted by a brisk winter wind wearing nothing but a swimming costume and a woolly hat.
The UK is a country bursting with talent, innovation, and creativity – but a lot of it is wasted. If you are born poor or with limited horizons to make use of those qualities, that is more than likely how you will die.
My occasional encounters with former or serving intelligence officers over the years suggest that they are prone to talking in riddles. But the sixtysomething greybeard I met late in 2016, when I was researching my Second World War spy book, A Woman of No Importance, spoke all too plainly.
Immigration and asylum has replaced Brexit as the rabble-rouser of our times, drowning out almost every other subject and consuming vast government resources.
“How do you cope with those Nigerian gangs roaming round your cities?” asked the immaculately presented American woman across the dinner table, her giant diamond earrings glinting in the evening sunlight.
Three topics under discussion that memorable afternoon were particularly striking.
‘Failure would perhaps have propelled Starmer to become a greater performer for when he and the country needed it most’
‘The obsessive short-termism and insularity of our political class, who foolishly no longer see historical context as instructive’