Gareth Roberts

Has the very online left, the bane of our times, been usurped by the very online right? It’s a poetically appealing idea, for sure – an amusing conceit. But I really don’t think so. Purity spirals and internecine denunciations have been a feature of the last decade or so in the era of woke. This seems to have been mainly fostered by women, for which Louise Perry persuasively makes the case here. Perry argues, convincingly, that a lot of the progressive censoriousness was female-led – or at least female-coded – and introduced using passive-aggressive HR ‘guidelines’, office politics, etc.

In bleak times, Brits could rely on light entertainment to get them through. George Formby and Vera Lynn made the Blitz bearable. Slade and T Rex got people through the three-day week and power cuts of the 1970s. In the good times of the money-in-your-pocket 1990s, we had equally cheery, cheeky media like The Fast Show, The Full Monty, boy bands and Britpop. But nowadays, when the headline news is depressing, low culture has deserted us. Light entertainment takes itself so seriously that it no longer provides any form of escape. The tediously partisan agit-prop that is today's The Last Leg offers no such sanctuary The high-end TV hits that fill our screens are all grim and self-important.

Pity poor James O’Brien. The long-suffering remainer has always had a raw, fiery quality unusual in the British phone-in host. Where most of his male colleagues tend to be pear shaped more than bear shaped – and where female radio presenters often resemble head girls sitting bolt upright in the front row of the class with their hands up – O’Brien has always been an outlier. Even if O'Brien sounds the part as a radio host, he has never quite looked it. In LBC promo photographs of the smiley, ‘say cheese’ variety, he looks uncomfortable. O'Brien resembles a bouncer in the background in a wedding album. He has hosted a weekday morning phone-in discussion for LBC for over two decades, but I still can't help think he is in the wrong job.

When will the BBC get a grip? The corporation which, remember, is funded by licence payers, appears to be strangely overgenerous to its ‘marginalised’ executives with saintly protected characteristics. Lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender (LGBT), ethnic minority, disabled and female BBC bosses typically earn more money than their colleagues, statistics buried in the corporation’s annual report have revealed. Senior managers who are LGBT earn salaries 15.6 per cent larger than those who are not, the Daily Telegraph reported – while top bosses from ethnic minority backgrounds earn around 12 per cent more than those who are white. This questionable generosity with licence fee cash comes after a slew of other recent BBC shockers.

Labour MP Andrew Gwynne has been sacked from the government, and suspended from the party, for sending ‘vile’ WhatsApp messages. Gwynne, who reportedly wrote that he hoped an elderly constituent who had complained about bin collections would die, is also said to have made antisemitic remarks and jokes about Diane Abbott. He stands exposed of being a callous bigot. Case closed. Gwynne's career is over. If making horrible jokes in private is a sin, we're all damned Except, of course, Gwynne – and his Labour colleague Oliver Ryan MP, who was also a member of the WhatsApp group and has been suspended – are not bigots. Yes, their remarks were tasteless and offensive – and they shouldn't have made them.

The news that the Prime Minister Keir Starmer, the adenoidal android, has employed a voice coach is simply astonishing. ‘I’ll take no lectures from the party opposite,’ is one of Starmer’s most well-worn sentences. At least now we know who he will take lectures from: actress Leonie Mellinger, star of The Winters Tale and the BBC's Bergerac, who has been helping Starmer find his voice. ‘The transformation,” she says, “has been enormous.’ Really? Even after receiving years of tuition from the classically-trained actress, Starmer's droning voice still send me to sleep.

The Village People joined Donald Trump on stage at the conclusion of his pre-inauguration rally last night. ‘You won’t recognise them, they’re a little bigger, but that’s life,’ The Donald informed us beforehand, in one of the many interesting digressions in his long, long address. This was less of a speech and more of a mellifluous ramble of his achievements, with other odd interludes about handshakes and culture – ‘Silence Of The Lambs, anyone see that movie? Lovely movie’.  As Trump did his funny little one-potato, two-potato dance along with the fuller-figured but actually still very recognisable Village People, I had to keep reminding myself that this was by far the saner option at the American ballot box last November.

The re-eruption of the rape gangs scandal has shone a dazzlingly bright light on the language that makes us flinch and fluster, and clutch at euphemistic straws. For years, the mass sexual abuse of thousands of vulnerable girls in towns across England has been blamed on 'grooming gangs'. But this euphemism hardly does justice to this appalling scandal. ‘Asian grooming gangs’ is a mealy-mouthed phrase In the last fortnight, there has been a shift to a different, more accurate term – ‘rape gangs’ – that better describes who was responsible. This change in terminology is long overdue. And while it offers few crumbs of comfort to the victims, it is good that people are – finally – beginning to face up to the facts of a story that shames modern Britain.

The recent re-eruption of the grooming/child rape gang scandal has been disorienting, seeming to blow up from nowhere. It has re-emerged – as far as I can ascertain, it moved so fast – through posts on X that quoted horrific extracts from trial proceedings. Within hours the full horror of what happened (and may well still be happening) in towns and cities around Britain blasted into public consciousness and global headlines. This is obviously one of the very worst things, maybe the very worst thing, to have occurred in Britain since the war It’s been a strange few days – not least because none of this information is new. What feels different this time is that its importance has broken out and been acknowledged, by the public if not yet entirely by some politicians.

A feud can be very tedious and tiring if you’re one of the combatants. But let’s be honest: for onlookers, feuds are fun. Videos of spats in which one or other party is ‘schooled, owned, destroyed’ ratchet up millions of views. It’s even more fun when both sides don’t lose their temper and civility is maintained. There is glorious entertainment in watching people ‘throwing shade’ at one another without it ever quite coming to the boil.  The smaller the differences, the funnier the feud Now we have a new one to enjoy, in the classic mould. Ding ding, in the blue corner is Kemi Badenoch. While in the slightly different shade of blue corner it’s Nigel Farage.