Jonny Ford

Jonny Ford is a stand-up comedian

In defence of nepo babies

What do Mary Shelley, John Stuart Mill and Tim Berners-Lee have in common? They’re all nepo babies, of course: weasels with no talent who swanned into the professions of their successful parents. Frankenstein, On Liberty, and the world wide web: the flukes of unworthies. You get my point, though it’s not a popular one. Nepo babies are fair game. The very phrase, coined in 2020, isn’t meant as a compliment. At least not to Julie Burchill. In these pages in October, she rinsed India Knight’s new book for its witlessness and its author for being the daughter of a journalist – or ‘nepo-baby hack’. The article was a laugh, the insult a flash of something else. We don’t hate nepo babies.

How a late lunch can save Britain

Britain doesn’t have a productivity problem. We have a productivity mystery. The financial crisis was 17 years ago but still output per hour remains stagnant. The UK economy is predicted to grow at a slower rate than previously expected from next year, according to a November forecast by the Office for Budget Responsibility. It lowered its growth estimates to 1.4 per cent in 2026 and 1.5 per cent for the following four years. If they’re right, it could leave a huge hole in the public purse. No wonder economists and politicians are scratching their heads. But there might be a straightforward solution to Britain’s productivity problem: more workers need to opt for a late lunch. For 15 years I’ve taken lunch at 3.30 p.m.

Confessions of a juror

When the jury service summons landed on my doormat, I cursed my luck. The nag of civic responsibility was just strong enough to stop me trying to wriggle out. Down to the Crown Court I trudged, praying that I wouldn’t be lumbered with – and impoverished by – a six-month trial. Mercifully, the case was done in seven days. But it should have been over long before. In court, the lunch hour lives up to its name – and then some Why did it take as much time as it did? It turns out that a day in court is no such thing. Sometimes it’s not even half a day. Three of our seven days began at 10am, two at 10.30am. One day didn’t get going till 11am. Only once were we told to be in court for 9am – on the first day, before the trial had started.

My solution to ghosting

Let me tell you a ghost story. I began texting Becky two weeks ago. Soon the messages were flowing. A date was set, a table booked. Friday night. Soho. Here we go. Then, a day before the date, the texts stopped and the lady vanished – leaving me to cancel the restaurant and spend the evening in the company of Wordle. It might be ten years since ‘ghosting’ was added to the dictionary, but the disappearing act has lost none of its sting. It’s also as common as ever: four out of five singletons say they’ve been ghosted. Received wisdom blames the apps. The industrial scale of dating today causes collateral damage. With everyone furiously swiping, matching and texting, there’s not enough time to close every administrative loop.

My plan for a better dating app

It’s 30 years since a website called Match.com opened the Pandora’s box of online dating. Until then, with the tiny exception of the classifieds, meeting a mate had to begin out there and in person. But from 1995, dating retreated to a desktop computer – a virtual shop window of real people. Match.com was launched as a minimum viable product that sold, so said the wags, other minimum viable products. Today, the online dating industry makes more than $9 billion. By 2033, its revenues are expected to double. There are now tons of apps, yet still so many loners. According to one survey, 44 per cent of Londoners are single. If Pandora’s box opened years ago, today it’s surely shattering.

Being ‘middle aged’ isn’t what it was

Fashion, forget what they tell you, isn’t about looking good. It’s actually there to remind you that you’re not young anymore. And it’s hit this 36-year-old hard. The boot cuts and bomber jackets of today’s youth are as baffling to me as my skinny jeans doubtless are to them. And the land of male grooming is even more foreign. Up top, the mullet is back. A ‘style’ that was till last Tuesday, like dry ice and synth piano, stuck in 1980s music videos. In 2024, it’s making noise on the heads (and necks) of the kids. Down below, young men are trimming, titivating, shaving. Ten years ago, a man’s razor was for his face. Today, there’s fewer hairs on the genitals of Gen Z than in your average pub lasagne.