Trevor Phillips

Whatever happened to the brilliant gay rights movement led by people like Ian McKellen, Simon Fanshawe, Matthew Parris and Angela Mason? For people of my baby boomer generation, one of the miracles of the late 20th century was the speed at which public prejudices against lesbian and gay people evaporated. Those prejudices haven’t disappeared; but it is now accepted as common sense that LGBTQ+ people should be treated equally. When I started work that kind of statement seemed like generations away.

My great-great-grandmother, born on a Barbadian plantation and transported to what was British Guiana in the 19th century, gave rise to a tribe that has spread across the globe. Weirdly, Covid has brought us together (via Zoom) in a way that used to be reserved for weddings and funerals. My New Yorker nephew found a time of day that could accommodate the Californians, the Canadians and the English rump in London, Cambridge and Nottingham. Harlem’s lights glimmered from another nephew’s screen, while the Florida gang kept their windows shut just in case the neighbours not so far away in Mar-a-Lago decided to drop by. Sadly, someone forgot to let the Trinis, the Bajans and the Welsh know about the meet-up, and it was way too early for Jakarta.

Next year I will begin my fifth decade as a working journalist. As a writer, as an executive — and now as the chair of Index on Censorship — I have always tried to encourage honest, thorough and professional reporting and analysis of the UK’s ethnic and religious minority communities. Unless all our citizens share in a common understanding of our nation, the prospect of an integrated society will remain a distant dream. The key words here are ‘honest’ and ‘thorough’. The tradition of British journalism eschews propaganda and partisanship.