At last, a trigger warning we can all get behind

To the producers of a new musical about Scottish culture, I offer my heartfelt thanks for so thoughtfully alerting me to the horrors within

In the past, I may have given the impression that I find trigger warnings on books and plays to be just a tiny bit silly. Take, for example, the time that the University of the West of England warned students that Shakespeare’s The Tempest features “extreme weather”. And the time the University of Aberdeen warned students that Robert Louis Stevenson’s novel Kidnapped “contains depictions of kidnapping”.

This week, we learnt that a new musical about the life of Anne Boleyn has a trigger warning for “execution by beheading”. Honestly. What a dreadful spoiler. Hardly seems any point going now they’ve given away the ending.

Even so, perhaps it’s time that I learnt to be more open-minded about this peculiar modern phenomenon. Because, at long last, I’ve come across a trigger warning for which I’m profoundly grateful.

Currently being staged at Shoreditch Town Hall in London, Ceilidh: The Musical is a new production that has been hailed by critics as “a joyous, riotous celebration of Scottish culture”. Prospective audiences, however, are warned that one aspect of the show may cause some people distress.

In short: it contains bagpipes.

Specifically, I believe it’s the loudness of the bagpipes that we’re being warned about. But frankly, I’m sure I speak for all right-thinking people when I say there is no volume at which the sound of bagpipes is ever acceptable. In any case, is it even possible to play the bagpipes quietly? I’ve certainly never heard anyone manage it. I grew up in Scotland, and during my childhood I was subjected to this form of musical waterboarding on countless occasions. Every single time, it sounded like someone garrotting a tomcat with barbed wire.

To the producers of Ceilidh: The Musical, therefore, I offer my most heartfelt thanks for so thoughtfully alerting me to the peril in store. Admittedly, this has ensured that I won’t be buying tickets. But that just makes me admire the producers all the more. How selfless of them to prioritise my sanity over their takings.

In the interests of balance, though, I should acknowledge that bagpipes do sometimes have their uses. In October 2021, a Scottish motorist was annoyed to find his journey delayed by a group of climate activists who had glued themselves to the road. So, in order to disperse these preening peabrains, he climbed out of his car, marched up to them – and, to their understandable alarm, started playing the bagpipes in their faces.

How I wish I’d been there. That’s one occasion when the sound of bagpipes would have been music to my ears.

https://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/2026/11/05/michael-deacon-trigger-warning-get-behind/


 

Palestine Paloma has just made her most bonkers outburst yet

Many famous people love to virtue-signal about Gaza. But pop singer Paloma Faith has got to be the oddest of them all
 

In September, the British pop singer Paloma Faith proudly revealed that, at bedtime every night, she whispers “Free Palestine” to each of her three children. In response, I wrote a column venturing that such behaviour was just a tiny bit peculiar – especially given that one of her children was only six months old.

Evidently, however, Ms Faith has not been discouraged. Because now, she’s made an even more bizarre outburst about her children and Gaza.

Speaking onstage at Wembley Arena – where she was supporting the American rapper Macklemore on the final night of his “Free Palestine” tour – Ms Faith explained why she’s become such a vocal advocate of the Palestinian cause. At first, she confessed, it had felt “scary” to risk sharing her views – particularly as she’s the “breadwinner” for her children.

But she bravely decided to take the plunge, because, in her words: “Why are my children more important than the children in Gaza, Palestine, Yemen, Sudan, Congo? They are not more important than anyone else’s children. It breaks my heart that anybody thinks that their children are more important than somebody else’s.”

Well, I hate to add to poor Ms Faith’s heartache. But I’m afraid I’m about to tell her something very upsetting. Which is that, in reality, all parents think their own children are more important than other people’s. And if Ms Faith doesn’t, I’d be rather surprised.

Let me put it like this. To the best of my knowledge, Ms Faith is not planning to buy any Christmas presents for my son. Nor has she ever made his dinner, or washed his clothes, or taken him to the doctor when he’s ill. And when he was a baby, she never changed his nappy. Not even once.

Presumably, though, she has done all these things for her own children. But, if my child is every bit as important to her as they are, how can she possibly justify her shocking neglect of him?

Quite frankly, I think it’s time she was held to account for this blatant favouritism. Ms Faith must prove that she meant what she said at Wembley Arena, and definitely wasn’t just spouting a load of histrionic, virtue-signalling nonsense. So, from now on, instead of spending her income on her own children’s food, clothing and toys, she must spend it on food, clothing and toys for every single child on earth. Including mine.

She needn’t whisper “Free Palestine” to him every night, though. When it comes to pushing propaganda at bedtime, I’m happy to let her put her own children first.

Keep identity politics out of sport

South Africa has won the Rugby World Cup more times than any other country. Nonetheless, it seems that the national team has something gravely wrong with it. According to a headline in a leading South African newspaper, it’s “too white”.

“South Africa cannot continue to have a predominantly white national rugby team when about 80 per cent of its population is black,” argued a letter writer named Jacob Kudzayi Mutisi. “A national team,” he went on, “should represent more than the country’s best players.”

This, I can’t help but feel, is a somewhat questionable way of thinking. As would become all too clear if the same logic were applied to England’s national football team.

According to the latest census, around 4 per cent of England’s population is black. Yet, of the 22 players selected for England’s most recent international football match, against the Czech Republic last month, more than half were black.

Bearing this in mind, imagine if an Englishman were to write: “England cannot continue to have a predominantly black national football team when about 74 per cent of its population is white.” Such a suggestion, I suspect, would cause a not inconsiderable amount of controversy.

Quite apart from anything else, trying to solve this supposed problem would be wildly impractical. Say the England football manager were required to select a squad that precisely reflected the ethnic make-up of the population as a whole. He’d be forced to leave out many of his best players, purely because they were black – while simultaneously ensuring that around 3 per cent of the squad was of Indian descent, 2.7 per cent was of Pakistani descent, and 0.7 per cent was of Chinese descent. The poor man would end up spending more time scouring players’ family trees than watching them play.

Meanwhile, only 0.9 per cent of the squad could be “white Irish”. Which would presumably mean he couldn’t pick both Harry Kane, the star striker, and Declan Rice, the star midfielder. Just one or the other.

On the whole, I’m not convinced that this would be a terribly good idea. It’s often said that sport is war by other means. Well, better that than deranged woke activism by other means.
https://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/2026/11/03/paloma-faith-makes-her-most-bonkers-palestine-outburst-yet/

Hallowe’en is the latest ridiculous victim of woke policing

If officers think children dressed as ghosts and witches could offend religious minorities, they’ve truly lost the plot

 

Are your children excited that it’s Hallowe’en? Eagerly looking forward to knocking on all the neighbours’ doors, and getting lots of lovely sweeties?

If so, do remind them not to commit any far-Right hate crimes.

It’s a serious risk. Or so I gather from police in Leicestershire. Because officers have warned residents that trick-or-treating may offend some people’s “religious beliefs”.

Strangely, however, they didn’t say whose. Which is a pity, because I’d be fascinated to know which faiths deem trick-or-treating to be a crime against their god, or gods. Could officers point us to the ancient holy text which pronounces on the iniquity of pumpkins, broomsticks and plastic vampire fangs?

Then again, it may just be the result of an unfortunate misunderstanding. Perhaps last year, on seeing a group of children marching up their street dressed in white bedsheets, some people thought it was a rally by the Ku Klux Klan.

At any rate, police have instructed the public to be sensitive, because some communities’ beliefs “do not include Hallowe’en”. Which is interesting, because I can’t help but recall a story The Telegraph published earlier this year. At West Midlands Police, we reported, non-Muslim officers and staff had been invited to fast during Ramadan in an “act of solidarity”.

The message was clear. Even if you don’t share another group’s beliefs, you’re encouraged to join in with their customs. What a wonderful way to bring our communities together.

In light of that, though, surely Leicestershire Police should be following the example set by their West Midlands colleagues – and urging all religious groups to take part in trick-or-treating, as an “act of solidarity” with British children.

Go on, officers. There’s still time.

Sympathy for our suffering celebs

Yet another celebrity has bravely announced that they’ve been diagnosed with ADHD. A few weeks ago, as you may recall from this column, it was the actor Simon Pegg. This time, it’s Jools Oliver – the wife of Jamie, the TV chef.

Interviewed on a podcast this week, Mrs Oliver said she finds having ADHD to be “really hard work” – which is why she recently had to reject a request from Poppy, her 24-year-old daughter. “She said to me, ‘Please can I come home for the weekend, Mum?’ I went, ‘Well, I’ll be honest, we’ve got a party. I’m going to be overwhelmed. I’ve got ADHD, you know, I’ve got lots of issues.’”

Naturally I wouldn’t wish to downplay the suffering of Mrs Oliver, or indeed any of the numerous other celebrities who have recently discovered that they have ADHD. And you could certainly argue that, by announcing their ADHD diagnoses to the world, these celebrities are helping to reduce stigma and raise awareness.

All the same, I can’t help thinking: you never hear celebrities announcing that they’ve got piles, do you?

After all, that too is a stressful and debilitating condition. Yet we don’t often see famous actors and pop stars seeking to reduce stigma and raise awareness by bravely telling the world about their haemorrhoids. “For years I felt so awkward and uncomfortable, without ever knowing why. But now that I’ve been diagnosed with piles, everything suddenly makes sense.”

Similarly, I don’t recall many TV presenters revealing all about their heroic battle with flatulence. Or giving emotional interviews about “my worms hell”. (“I always knew I was different from the other kids at school. Mainly because of all the itching.”)

So come on, celebrities. Be truly courageous, and tell us about your fungal infections and chronic halitosis. Admittedly these ailments are unlikely to gain you much social cachet. But then, it’s not about that, is it?

The most bizarre trans story you’ll read all year

Here at The Telegraph we pride ourselves on the fiendish complexity of our puzzles. If you’d like to give your brain an even more strenuous work-out, however, try making sense of the following story, which I read in another newspaper this week.

“A Canadian author who was a straight woman before becoming non-binary and then a transgender man has announced that he is now ‘two-spirit’... [The author] previously told of how his son came out as a transgender girl aged 11, before his husband came out as a transgender woman… [The couple], who have now separated, formed a four-way open relationship with two other transgender women that they called a ‘polycule’. The polycule has since split, with [the author] and his husband now in separate relationships with their respective transgender girlfriends…”

If you managed to follow all of that, without developing a severe migraine, you should be granted immediate entry to Mensa.

For my own part, I must confess that I struggled to keep up with who was whom, or indeed what. But the bit that puzzled me most was this. On what grounds would a four-person “polycule” split up? Infidelity?

“You cad. I can’t believe you cheated on us. You promised to remain faithful to us three.”

“Please, my darlings, take me back. I swear, you’re the only three people I love. Those other men, women and persons of indeterminate gender meant nothing to me.”

 https://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/2026/10/31/halloween-is-the-latest-ridiculous-victim-of-woke-policing/

Today’s Left-wing radicals are nothing but whacking great toffs

As bakery chain Gail’s is attacked for its ‘extortionate’ prices, why exactly are so many rich kids becoming socialists, and not socialites?

Older readers may find it depressing to see the young people of today flinging themselves into rabid hard-Left activism. Still, let’s look on the bright side. Because there is one aspect of this trend that I find highly entertaining.

It’s the fact that so many of these aspiring tribunes of the proletariat turn out to be whacking great toffs.

This week we’ve been treated to a classic example. In London, Left-wing activists are running a campaign against Gail’s, the upmarket bakery chain – because, they claim, it has “extortionate prices”, it’s fuelling the “gentrification” of Brixton, and its majority stakeholder is a private equity group that has also invested in Israeli cybersecurity firms (boo, hiss!). But who exactly is behind this noble crusade against inequality and social injustice?
 

Well, according to reports, one of the campaign’s ringleaders is an enchanting young gentleman called Marlo Swann McNair Plowden. That name alone is a delight. It could have sprung from the pages of PG Wodehouse. Meet Marlo: a charming chum for Bingo, Boko, Bertie, Barmy, Tuppy, Gussie, Oofy, Chuffy and all the other chaps at the Drones Club.

But there’s more. Young Marlo, we learn, comes from a splendidly illustrious family. For example, his grandfather, the Honourable William Julius Lowthian Plowden, was an Old Etonian who served as an adviser to a Tory government. Meanwhile, his great-grandfather was Lord Plowden, a leading industrialist who became a senior figure at the Treasury, and whose wife was awarded damehood for services to education.

Mind you, dear Marlo looks positively common next to some of his comrades in the fight to attain socialist utopia. You will no doubt have noticed how many of the Just Stop Oil girls have names like Cressida, Lucia and Indigo. And you may not have been entirely surprised to learn that the equally fabulously named Phoebe Plummer, the one who chucked soup over a Van Gogh, grew up in a Chelsea townhouse worth £4m and attended a school whose boarding fees are £69,000 a year.

Perhaps you also recall Robin Boardman-Pattinson, the privately educated Extinction Rebellion activist who declared that air travel “should only be used in emergencies” – before it was discovered that his Facebook page featured photos of him on skiing holidays. And don’t forget James Schneider, who at the age of just 29 was appointed “head of strategic communications” to Jeremy Corbyn. Schneider grew up in a £7m house in Primrose Hill, and attended a school whose boarding fees are £62,000 a year. Oh, and his mother is a member of The Sloane Club.

My personal favourite, though, is Arthur Clifton. He’s the Gen Z firebrand who co-founded Take Back Power, a “civil resistance group” which thunders that Britain has been “broken” by “the super-rich”. It so happens that young Arthur went to the same private school as Hugh Grant, and his father is an executive at an insurance broker that provides coverage for superyachts.

Enjoyable as all these details may be, however, I do think we need to ask ourselves a serious question. Why exactly is it that so many of today’s rich kids are becoming socialists, instead of socialites?

In my view, the answer is linked to an awkward truth at the heart of Left-wing politics. We often call it “the politics of envy”. And that’s true. But it’s not, as widely assumed, the envy the poor feel for the rich. It’s the envy the rich feel for the even richer.

In other words, this is the politics of people who are privileged – but not quite as privileged as they feel they should be. So they yearn, with furious vengeance, to tear down the people who are even more privileged than they are. Or, as the American author Rob Henderson has put it, the real battle is not between the “haves” and the “have-nots”. It’s between the “haves” and the “have-mores”.

Still, let’s not kid ourselves that this is a wholly new phenomenon. Consider the case of the original rebellious rich kid: Karl Marx.

In 1837, when Marx was 19, his father – a successful lawyer who owned a number of vineyards – sent him a letter, deploring the way that “weaklings” choose to “quarrel with the world because they do not possess, without labour or trouble, well-furnished palaces with vast sums of money and elegant carriages”. Such “embitterment disgusts me”, Marx Sr told his teenage son – “and you are the last person from whom I would expect it. What grounds can you have for it? Has not everything smiled on you ever since your cradle?”

A pertinent question for today’s pampered young radicals. Although I don’t suppose they’ll answer it.

https://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/2026/10/28/michael-deacon-posh-left-wing-activists/