Toby Young

An email popped into my House of Lords inbox last week from Lt Gen. Richard Nugee with the subject line ‘National Emergency Briefing’. Ooh, I thought. That sounds interesting. Will it be about the pitiful state of our armed forces? The threat of war with Russia? The penetration of Britain’s deep state by the Chinese Communist party? Nothing so sexy, unfortunately. The ‘emergency’ in question is our old friend the climate emergency, with the usual suspects being wheeled out in Westminster Central Hall next month to tell us how little time we have left to avert the looming disaster. This seems a little tin-eared. The past 12 months have witnessed the collapse of the global consensus about climate change.

I was amused to read about the spat that broke out on Greta Thunberg’s flotilla between conservative Muslims and members of the LGBTQ+ community. According to newspaper reports, the convoy stopped in Tunisia on its way to Gaza and picked up a self-described ‘communist queer militant’, along with other gay activists. This led to the departure of several devout Muslims. ‘Why involve these dubious activists serving other agendas that do not concern us and have nothing to do with Gaza?’ said one of the aggrieved participants. Linking the plight of Palestinians to every other woke cause is relatively new Why indeed? The surprise isn’t that this unlikely coalition fractured somewhere in the Mediterranean, but that these schisms don’t occur more often.

I was in Australia last week, having been invited to give the annual oration by the Robert Menzies Institute, and stopped off in Singapore on the way home. I’ve always been curious about this Southeast Asian city state, having read so much about Lee Kuan Yew, its Cambridge--educated founding father, who holds the record of being the world’s longest-serving prime minister. When he assumed office in 1959, Singapore was a fading outpost of the British Empire, seemingly destined to be swallowed up by one of its larger neighbours. The population was impoverished, illiterate and riven with racial conflict. It had no natural resources and most of its 224 square miles was swampland.

You’d have to have a heart of stone not to laugh at all the Hollywood celebrities rending their garments about Donald Trump’s attacks on free speech. In an ‘open letter’, Tom Hanks, Meryl Streep and Robert De Niro, among others, took the administration to task for browbeating ABC into pulling Jimmy Kimmel’s talk show from the air after he falsely claimed that Charlie Kirk’s murderer was associated with the ‘MAGA gang’. ‘In an attempt to silence its critics, our government has resorted to threatening the livelihoods of journalists, talk-show hosts, artists, creatives and entertainers across the board,’ they wrote. ‘This runs counter to the values our nation was built upon, and our constitution guarantees.

When Theresa May appointed me as a non-executive director of the Office for Students, the Downing Street press office decided to embargo the news until midnight on New Year’s Day 2018. It may be that it hoped to slip it out under the radar, calculating that most journalists would be too drunk to notice. If so, it didn’t work. The Guardian decided it wasn’t going to let the government get away with this sleight of hand and stuck the following headline on its website at 12.01: ‘Toby Young to help lead government’s new universities regulator.’ The offence archaeologists immediately set to work digging through everything I’d said or written, looking for material to be outraged by. It didn’t take them long to find it. By 12.05, I was trending on Twitter.

I’m feeling quite smug at the moment. Every year I vow to get in shape in the summer, which means losing weight, drinking less and going to the gym. The summer bit is because there’s a risk I’ll be seen in a swimming costume – I want a ‘beach-ready body’ – and there’s also the exposure that comes from wearing fewer clothes when the sun’s out and the weather’s warm. Anyway, this summer I managed it. I’ve lost about a stone, am down to about half a bottle of wine a day, and have started working out again after an eight-year hiatus. I might hesitate to strut about at the local lido in budgie smugglers, but the dad bod has gone.

Charlie, my 17-year-old son, was hopeful about QPR’s chances this season. True, we managed to avoid relegation only by the skin of our teeth in 2024-25, but we’ve just appointed a new manager: a Frenchman called Julien Stéphan, who won the Coupe de France in 2019 with Rennes, beating Paris Saint-Germain in the final, and getting into the last eight of the Europa League. In addition, we’ve had what football fans call a ‘good window’, recruiting several promising young players in the summer transfer period, including a much needed striker in the form of Richard Kone, a 22-year-old Ivorian who scored 21 goals for Wycombe Wanders last season. ‘I think we’re looking at a top six finish,’ said Charlie.

On the face of it, Wormwood Scrubs is not particularly appealing. I don’t mean the prison, but the common in the north-eastern corner of Hammersmith and Fulham. It is 170 acres of unsupervised scrubland with enough wooded areas to attract a smattering of predatory homosexuals – a poor man’s Hampstead Heath. Often, as I walk the dog around the perimeter, the only people I encounter are single men in tight T-shirts who eye me enquiringly as we pass. I respond by looking pointedly at Mali, as if to say: ‘Can’t you see I’m walking my dog, not cruising for action?’ Then again, Mali is a Cavapoochon, so perhaps they don’t get the message. Caroline is not a fan, preferring the more genteel Gunnersbury Park.

I’m just back from Vancouver, where I was speaking at a fundraiser for the Free Speech Union of Canada. At the dinner afterwards I sat next to an Alberta separatist, a movement I was unaware of until now. Dating to the 19th century, it advocates for the secession of the province of Alberta and has been given a renewed impetus by the federal government’s hostility to fossil fuels under Justin Trudeau and now Mark Carney. Petroleum is Alberta’s biggest industry by far, and the revenue generated by energy exports means the province is a big contributor to Canada’s national budget, with its net contributions dwarfing those of other provinces.

When I was a young man, the claim that Britain was in danger of becoming the 51st state was a political slur mainly thrown about by the left, particularly those who objected to the presence of US military bases. But there was some anti-American sentiment on the right, too – Enoch Powell, for instance, had a dislike of America’s hostility to the Empire that dated back to his service in the second world war. I’m even guilty of some anti--American prejudice myself and wrote a memoir in which I tried to convey that my failure to take Manhattan in the mid-1990s was because I wasn’t willing to sell my soul to Mammon. Well, I take it all back.

I was surprised to read a report by Sunder Katwala’s thinktank British Future saying the UK is a ‘powder keg’ of community tensions and warning of further unrest this summer. In a foreword by Sajid Javid and Jon Cruddas, who are co-chairing a commission looking into last year’s riots, Britain is described as ‘fragmented’ and ‘fragile’, seemingly only one newspaper headline away from descending into civil war. Aren’t these the same public intellectuals and politicians who, until ten minutes ago, were cheerleaders for multiculturalism? I thought the arrivalof hundreds of thousands of immigrants a year was enriching our street life, improving our cuisine and revitalising our art and literature?

About 15 years ago, I tried to interest my literary agent in a state-of-the-nation novel set in 21st-century London. My model was Bonfire of the Vanities, Tom Wolfe’s masterpiece about New York in the 1980s. I’d read Wolfe’s essay in Harper’s magazine called ‘Stalking the Billion-Footed Beast’ in which he urges ambitious young authors to dispense with namby-pamby, post-modernist experimental nonsense and follow in the footsteps of Balzac, Zola and Dickens – write realistic novels documenting every aspect of contemporary society in granular detail. I wrote a 10,000-word proposal summarising the story, which began with a black teenage drug dealer coming to the rescue of a posh teenage girl in Shepherd’s Bush by fighting off a group of roadmen trying to steal her puppy.