'How Nigel Farage Was Seduced by Right-Wing Populism' by Rob Miller—guest blogger

Nigel Farage is widely recognised for his leadership of the Brexit movement and for transforming UKIP into a significant political force. The development of his messaging, particularly on immigration, reveals a nuanced story: his initial focus on economic Euroscepticism evolved to incorporate culturally charged themes. This shift can be understood as a process influenced by exposure to a range of political actors and ideas, both in Europe and the UK.

In the 1990s, Farage’s political focus was primarily economic. A commodities broker by trade, he often campaigned on the premise that the European Union was a bureaucratic impediment to British sovereignty and prosperity. At this time, his criticisms of immigration were largely framed in economic terms, such as concerns about labour market dynamics, pressure on public services and housing supply. Cultural or identity-based arguments were not a central part of his platform.

A notable change in tone began during his time in the European Parliament. Farage formed alliances and collaborated with parties widely regarded as advocating right-wing populism, including Italy's Lega Nord, France's National Rally and Germany's Alternative for Germany (AfD). These connections exposed him to a form of anti-immigration rhetoric that extended beyond economics, emphasising issues of national identity, cultural cohesion and border control. These European experiences later informed his domestic strategy.

Farage’s public support for Marine Le Pen in 2017 and his appearances before the AfD youth wing are examples of how European right-wing populist narratives could be integrated into UK politics. Critics argue that these interactions provided a blueprint for blending economic arguments with cultural-nationalist themes.

Back in the UK, some early UKIP members and sympathetic commentators brought nationalist perspectives into the party's strategy. While Farage maintained a distance from extremist groups, these individuals arguably helped frame immigration as a matter of Britain’s “social fabric” and national identity, in addition to being an economic issue. Media appearances and campaigns amplified this effect, translating abstract economic critiques into more visceral stories about community and security.

This process can be seen as the incremental shaping of a political platform. Rather than occurring suddenly, Farage's messaging evolved step by step through selective engagement and the strategic integration of new ideas. He maintained control over the narrative, but his rhetoric was increasingly shaped by the themes he encountered through these political networks and by domestic voter sentiment. By the mid-2000s, immigration had become a central pillar of UKIP's campaigns, blending economic criticism with cultural and nationalist appeals.

Nigel Farage’s journey from economic Eurosceptic to cultural populist is a case study in how political messaging can evolve. It illustrates that ideas often permeate mainstream politics not through abrupt radicalisation, but through incremental influence and the reframing of existing arguments. His story highlights how political figures can be shaped by networks, allies and domestic pressures, leading to a messaging style that combines economic critique with a cultural rallying cry.

‘Parallels Between Trump’s Immigration Policy and Hitler’s Pre-Camp Approach to the Jews’ by Andrew Davies—guest blogger

When discussing state policies toward unwanted or marginalised groups, history provides sobering lessons about how governments define, target and remove communities deemed “alien” or “undesirable”. While Donald Trump’s immigration policies in the United States and Adolf Hitler’s early anti-Jewish measures in Germany emerged from vastly different historical, cultural and moral contexts, there are significant structural parallels in the emphasis on surveillance, policing and forced removal—before more radical “solutions” were considered.

In Trump-era America, the Immigration and Customs Enforcement agency (ICE) has become the symbol of a hard-line immigration policy. It is tasked with locating, detaining and deporting millions of undocumented immigrants, often in high-profile raids that carry heavy symbolic weight.

In 1930s Germany, long before the machinery of extermination was set in motion, Hitler’s government sought to isolate Jews from the rest of society through registration, surveillance and restrictive laws. The Gestapo, along with local police, became the enforcement arms, identifying and monitoring Jews in preparation for removal from German life.

Both cases reveal the state’s use of bureaucratic enforcement tools to target populations based on identity rather than criminal acts.

Trump frequently speaks of deportation as the central mechanism of immigration policy; an effort to purge the country of those defined as outsiders. Under his administration, deportations have been ramped up and family separations at the border have created an atmosphere of fear and dehumanisation.

In Nazi Germany during the pre-concentration camp years (roughly 1933–1939), deportation was also the central strategy. The government sought to pressure Jews into leaving the country voluntarily through harassment, boycotts, job restrictions and violence (most notoriously, Kristallnacht in 1938). For those who did not leave, forced deportations soon followed, sending Jewish populations to neighboring countries already straining under refugee crises. Deportation, not mass murder, was initially envisioned as the “final” solution to the so-called Jewish Question.

Trump consistently frames undocumented immigrants as threats (criminals, rapists or invaders) whose presence weakens the United States. This narrative justifies the mobilisation of ICE and the spectacle of raids and deportations.

Hitler’s rhetoric against Jews was even more virulent, but structurally similar: Jews were depicted as parasites, criminals and corrupting influences undermining Germany’s purity and strength. This language of threat transformed entire communities into legitimate targets of state power, removing the distinction between individuals and groups.

Here lies the most important historical lesson. Hitler’s policies of exclusion and deportation created the bureaucratic and psychological groundwork for the later leap into genocide. Once a state apparatus is built to monitor, round up and expel groups of people defined by ethnicity, religion or nationality, the escalation from deportation to harsher measures becomes frighteningly possible.

While Trump’s immigration policies stop firmly at deportation, the resonance with Nazi Germany’s earlier stages should not be dismissed. Both show how a government can normalise the identification, policing and removal of entire populations under the banner of law and order.

The comparison does not seek to equate Trump with Hitler or America with Nazi Germany, but it underlines how states build incremental systems of exclusion. Deportation, in both cases, was presented as a rational, administrative solution to a problem framed as existential. History demonstrates how quickly such solutions can evolve into something darker when fear, prejudice and power converge unchecked.

‘Why Western Countries Are Often Seen as Shielding Israel from Accountability’ by Ryan Soames—guest blogger

The Israeli-Palestinian conflict has been one of the most enduring and controversial geopolitical crises of the modern era. Among the most contentious aspects of this conflict are the allegations of war crimes committed during Israeli military operations in Gaza and the West Bank. International bodies, such as the United Nations and human rights organisations, including Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International, have accused Israel of violating international law—particularly regarding its treatment of civilians, settlement expansions and use of force.

Yet, despite mounting reports and calls for accountability, Israel has rarely faced significant consequences from Western powers. This raises the question: Why do Western governments, especially the United States and key European allies, appear reluctant to hold Israel accountable for these alleged violations?

Reason 1: Historical and Strategic Alliances

One of the most important reasons lies in the strategic alliance between Israel and the West, especially the United States. Since its founding in 1948, Israel has been seen by the U.S. as a key democratic ally in a volatile Middle East. During the Cold War, Israel was viewed as a bulwark against Soviet influence. Today, it remains a partner in intelligence, military technology and counterterrorism.

This alliance has translated into extensive U.S. military aid—more than $3 billion annually—as well as consistent diplomatic support. The U.S. has used its veto power at the UN Security Council dozens of times to block resolutions critical of Israel.

Reason 2. Domestic Political Influence

Pro-Israel lobbying groups such as AIPAC (American Israel Public Affairs Committee) play a powerful role in shaping U.S. foreign policy. They maintain strong bipartisan support in Congress, and politicians who express strong support for Israel often face fewer political risks than those who criticise Israeli policy.

In many European countries, particularly Germany, support for Israel is also influenced by the legacy of the Holocaust and a deep sense of historical responsibility.

Reason 3. Framing of the Conflict in the West

Western media and political discourse often frame Israel’s actions through the lens of self-defense against terrorism, particularly in response to attacks from Hamas, a group designated as a terrorist organisation by the U.S. and EU. This framing shapes public perception, making it harder to discuss Israeli military actions in Gaza as potential war crimes, even when they result in large numbers of civilian casualties.

On the other hand, Palestinian resistance is frequently portrayed as terrorism, without equal emphasis on the occupation, blockade and human rights abuses endured by Palestinians.

Reason 4. Selective Application of International Law

Critics argue that international law is applied inconsistently, depending on geopolitical interests. For example, Russia’s invasion of Ukraine was swiftly met with widespread sanctions and international condemnation, including charges of war crimes. In contrast, similar calls for accountability in the Israeli-Palestinian context often stall due to political pressures from Western governments.

The International Criminal Court (ICC) has launched investigations into possible war crimes by both Israeli forces and Palestinian groups. However, the U.S. and Israel reject the ICC’s jurisdiction over the occupied Palestinian territories, undermining efforts for impartial legal accountability.

Reason 5. Fear of Antisemitism Accusations

Criticism of Israeli government policy is often conflated with antisemitism, especially in the West. This makes some politicians and institutions hesitant to speak out, even when human rights organisations raise legitimate concerns. While antisemitism is a serious and ongoing problem that must be addressed, conflating it with criticism of state policy can stifle legitimate debate and accountability.

Reason 6. Economic and Military Interests

Israel is a hub for defense technology, cybersecurity and innovation. Western companies and governments have extensive trade and defense relationships with Israel. These economic interests can influence foreign policy decisions, making governments less likely to take strong stances against Israeli actions.

The perception that Western powers allow Israel to act with impunity stems from a complex mix of strategic alliances, political influence, historical guilt, media framing and inconsistent application of international law. While legitimate security concerns and geopolitical realities shape policy, the lack of accountability for alleged war crimes has serious implications—not only for Palestinians but also for the integrity of the international legal system.

Calls for consistent enforcement of international law—regardless of political alliances—are growing louder, particularly from younger generations, human rights advocates and global South countries. Whether or not Western nations respond will significantly shape the future of global norms on justice, accountability and human rights.

'The Reform Party's Austerity Plan for the UK' by Rob Miller—guest blogger

If The Reform Party were to form the next government, the UK would enter a period of austerity reminiscent of the one that defined the David Cameron and George Osborne era. While the party's rhetoric often focuses on a "common sense" approach and cutting "waste", their economic policies reveal a commitment to major spending reductions that mirrors the fiscal tightening of the 2010s.

The Cameron-Osborne government, elected in 2010, made a conscious decision to tackle the UK's deficit, which had ballooned in the wake of the 2008 financial crisis. Their mantra was that the country could not continue to live beyond its means. The chosen method was a program of austerity, with the vast majority of deficit reduction coming from spending cuts rather than tax increases.

Reform's platform, while presented with different branding, operates on a similar principle. They have proposed a range of significant tax cuts, including lifting the income tax threshold and reducing corporation tax. To pay for these measures, they plan to slash government spending. Their manifesto outlines a goal of saving tens of billions of pounds a year by cutting "wasteful spending", reducing the size of the civil service and reforming public services.

The Cameron-era austerity had a profound impact on public services and welfare. Budgets for local government were severely reduced, leading to cuts in services like libraries and youth centers. The Welfare Reform Act of 2012 introduced the "bedroom tax" and a benefit cap, and froze most benefits for a number of years.

Reform UK's proposals will follow a similar playbook. While they talk about protecting "frontline services", independent analysis, such as that by the Institute for Fiscal Studies (IFS), suggests that their proposed cuts would be so substantial that they would inevitably require a significant reduction in the quantity and quality of public services.

For example, the party has proposed a major overhaul of the welfare system, with a strong emphasis on getting people back to work and withdrawing benefits for those who do not comply. While they have promised to scrap the two-child benefit cap, this is dwarfed by their broader plans to reduce welfare spending by getting people off benefits and tightening eligibility.

The economic legacy of Cameron's austerity is a matter of fierce debate. Proponents argue that it stabilized the UK's finances and laid the groundwork for a return to growth. Critics, however, contend that it stifled economic recovery, led to a "lost decade" of stagnant wages and low productivity, and disproportionately hit the poorest in society.

Reform's economic plans face similar questions. The party believes that their combination of tax cuts and spending cuts will "re-energise the economy" and spur growth. However, economists warn that the scale of the cuts needed to fund their tax plans would be unprecedented and could lead to a severe contraction in public spending, with uncertain consequences for the economy and for society.

While Reform is a new force in British politics, their proposed economic policy echoes a familiar chapter. Their commitment to deep spending cuts to pay for tax reductions bears a striking resemblance to the austerity program implemented by David Cameron's government. 

'Why Modern Capitalism Is a Factor in Mass Shootings' by Robert Miller—guest blogger

Mass shootings are among the most shocking and tragic manifestations of violence in modern society. While the availability of firearms and individual psychological factors are often cited as primary contributors, it is increasingly clear that the social and cultural environment created by modern capitalism can also play a significant role in shaping the conditions that make these events more likely.

At its core, capitalism emphasises competition, personal achievement and status. In societies where success is measured in wealth, career advancement or social recognition, individuals who feel marginalised, unsuccessful or humiliated may experience intense resentment and isolation. Some critics might argue that these feelings of humiliation often exist long before economic or professional pressures become a factor. While this is true, capitalism can amplify those pre-existing vulnerabilities. Constant exposure to social comparison, economic inequality and the glorification of high achievers can intensify feelings of inadequacy or failure. In other words, even if resentment exists beforehand, capitalist structures can exacerbate it, increasing the risk of extreme reactions.

Some might argue that the real driver is not capitalism itself but the human desire for material things, combined with each individual’s perception of success or failure. That objection is valid: what matters most is often how a person interprets their circumstances, not the objective reality. Yet capitalism intensifies this dynamic by constantly surrounding people with symbols of wealth, status and acquisition. Even if the perception is distorted or exaggerated, the culture of comparison created by capitalist systems provides the backdrop against which those perceptions gain force, sometimes pushing vulnerable individuals further toward resentment or despair.

Economic stress is another contributing factor. Job insecurity, housing pressures and growing income inequality create chronic stress and feelings of powerlessness. Chronic stress and frustration can exacerbate emotional dysregulation, making extreme reactions more likely. In other words, people under constant social and economic pressure may be more susceptible to acting on violent impulses, particularly when they feel they have few other outlets for their grievances.

Isolation and the erosion of community bonds, also common in highly individualistic capitalist societies, further compound the problem. Without strong social networks, individuals have fewer opportunities for intervention, support or guidance when their anger and frustration escalate. Loneliness and social fragmentation can leave grievances unchallenged and unmoderated, creating a dangerous psychological environment.

Modern media culture, heavily influenced by capitalist incentives, glorifies notoriety and sensationalism. Stories of mass shooters are widely covered, often emphasising the perpetrator’s planning, violence and infamy. This creates a perverse incentive for individuals seeking recognition or a sense of significance: violence becomes not only a way to express anger or seek revenge but also a method for achieving attention in a society that rewards spectacle.

Finally, while capitalism does not directly supply firearms, in societies where gun ownership is relatively easy, these psychological and social pressures intersect with lethal tools. The combination of grievance, alienation and access to high-capacity weapons dramatically increases the potential for catastrophic violence.

In short, modern capitalism does not “cause” mass shootings in a deterministic sense. Yet it fosters social conditions (intense competition, isolation, economic stress and a culture of notoriety) that can amplify pre-existing psychological vulnerabilities, creating an environment in which extreme acts of violence are more likely to occur.

Poetry and Song Are the Same Artform

The debate over whether poems and songs are separate art forms or simply variations of the same aesthetic expression has a long history. At first sight, the difference seems obvious: poems are primarily meant to be read, while songs are experienced as sound, with music and vocals creating a listening experience. This distinction is often taken as self-evident, determining how audiences approach and categorise these forms. Yet this superficial difference overlooks deeper questions about how each affects us emotionally and cognitively, and about the complex ways in which language, sound and rhythm interact to determine artistic experience.

One significant difference is in how we experience rhythm. Poems rely on rhythm, rhyme and line breaks built into the written text, engaging the reader’s “inner ear” as they mentally hear the flow while reading. This internal auditory experience is an imaginative process, determined by linguistic background, prior knowledge and personal interpretation. Songs, on the other hand, deliver rhythm externally through melody, instrumentation and vocal performance, creating a direct auditory impact. The physical presence of sound waves and the nuances of timbre, pitch and volume give songs a sensorial immediacy that written poetry lacks. The performative element (the singer’s voice, the arrangement, even the listening setting) adds layers of meaning and emotion beyond the text itself.

Critics sometimes suggest that poems and songs invoke fundamentally different responses, yet much of this originates from cultural expectation and setting. In many traditions, songs belong to communal gatherings, rituals and celebrations, engaging listeners through shared sound and movement, while poetry is more often associated with solitary reflection or intellectual engagement. Reading a poem draws on the “inner ear”, determining rhythm and tone through imagination, whereas hearing a song delivers these qualities directly through melody, repetition and performance. In both cases, response is determined not only by the work itself but by the way it is encountered: in private or in company, in silence or in sound, in memory or in the moment. The boundary between them is fluid: many songs contain poetic language, and many poems have been set to music, underscoring the interplay between the two forms.

Despite this, the difference between a poem read on the page and a song heard aloud is less absolute than it seems. Poetry, when read, activates the imagination and inner hearing, drawing us in through patterns of sound and rhythm in the mind’s ear. These sonic qualities can evoke emotion and meaning much like music does, even in silence. The pauses between lines, the visual layout of stanzas and the typography of the text all shape its rhythm and pacing, producing effects that songs sometimes echo but cannot fully replicate. This internalisation of sound allows poetry to transcend the limitations of the printed page, creating a deeply personal and intimate experience that varies widely between individuals and contexts.

Whilst formal distinctions remain (poems are lines on a page, songs combine lyrics with melody and instrumentation), both share a common aesthetic foundation of sound, rhythm, voice and emotional resonance. The difference between them lies more in context and expectation than in essence.

Neuroscience corroborates this connection, demonstrating that reading poetry and listening to music engage overlapping brain networks, particularly in processing rhythm, sound patterns and emotion. Brain imaging shows that both activities stimulate regions linked to auditory perception, emotional regulation and pattern recognition; whether the rhythm is imagined through the reader’s “inner ear” or carried to us on waves of melody and instrumentation. At the same time, each form also draws on specialised circuitry: poetry on the page largely utilises language-processing areas, while song largely utilises pitch and melody-related regions. This blend of shared and distinct activation suggests that the mind responds to both with a common aesthetic framework, yet determines that response to match the sensory pathway (silent reading or audible performance) through which the art is experienced.

Ultimately, the difference between poems as read experiences and songs as heard experiences shows how context, perception and mental engagement determine our experience of artistic expression. Recognising their shared aesthetic roots and the fluidity between reading and listening gives us a broader appreciation of how rhythm, voice and sound create meaning: whether imagined in the mind or heard through the ears. The borders between literary and musical arts, therefore, are permeable, shifting with culture, history and individual perception.

Being Stuck Inside Your Old Self

Time travel has fascinated human imagination, often depicted as the ability to physically travel to the past and change history. But what if time travel isn’t about moving your body through time, but rather about your consciousness slipping backward to inhabit an earlier version of yourself? This concept departs radically from traditional ideas and opens new philosophical and emotional territory.

Imagine a person in 2025 able to transfer their awareness into their 1990 self. Unlike classic time travel, the 2025 consciousness cannot control or influence their past body; the 1990 self acts exactly as it did then. The traveller experiences everything the earlier self senses (sights, sounds, touch, taste and smell) but not their thoughts or feelings. They become a passive passenger inside their own history, witnessing life replay without control or emotional involvement.

This form of time travel carries profound implications. The present consciousness is cut off from the inner world of the past self. It can see the younger self in love, enjoying moments once cherished, yet remain disconnected from the emotions that made those moments meaningful. What the past self feels remains a mystery; the traveller can only observe from the sidelines: unable to experience the visceral passion and spontaneity of lived experience.

This dynamic transforms what might seem a nostalgic escape into a psychological ordeal. The traveller hopes to relive joy or love but instead confronts a hollow shell. The vividness of sensory input contrasts sharply with the absence of feeling, making the experience alienating and sometimes torturous. The very qualities that imbue life with meaning (control, emotional engagement and choice) are missing. To observe oneself without being able to participate is a kind of imprisonment.

Adding to this burden is the unyielding passage of time. The traveller must endure the entire span of their past self’s existence as it unfolded, unable to pause, skip or alter events. The mundane routines and frustrating moments become an unrelenting background to a detached awareness, amplifying feelings of boredom and helplessness.

Beyond individual experience, this model of consciousness time travel prompts broader questions about identity and self-hood. If a future self can observe a past self in this way, it suggests that at any given moment, we might be being silently watched by versions of ourselves still to come. This infinite regress of selves watching selves forms a temporal network of silent witnessing, raising questions about privacy, free will and the nature of consciousness itself.

Intriguingly, this framework could offer an explanation for phenomena like déjà vu. These fleeting sensations of “having been here before” might be subtle leaks of future awareness into the past self’s consciousness. In this way. déjà vu becomes not a mere brain glitch but a faint echo of temporal selves overlapping, a "whisper" from the future observer to the present experiencer.

Basically, this vision of time travel is less about adventure and more about the limits of human experience. It reveals that the past, no matter how vividly recalled, cannot be truly re-inhabited without its essential emotions and choice. Thus, nostalgia risks becoming a trap, like a prison where the present self longs for a feeling that can never be recaptured.

This idea turns the usual fantasy on its head, showing that the desire to revisit the past might be fraught with alienation and pain. It forces us to confront the profound truth that life’s significance lies not just in moments themselves but in our active, emotional engagement with them as they unfold. The past remains a place to remember, but not to return, I recall hearing once.

'An Insider’s Damning Testimony of the Restart Scheme' by Andrew Davies—guest blogger

When the UK government launched the Restart Programme, it was sold as a bold initiative to help the long-term unemployed back into work. Providers would deliver tailored, compassionate support; the kind that understands barriers, builds confidence and matches people to sustainable jobs.

But according to one former employee of Seetec, a major Restart provider, the reality is far from the marketing brochure. In a candid Reddit post, they describe an environment that’s toxic for both staff and participants, and driven almost entirely by money. See:

https://www.reddit.com/r/DWPhelp/comments/16ct4ta/inside_of_the_restart_programme_during_my_time_5/?utm_source=chatgpt.com

The ex-employee paints a picture of a workplace ruled by intimidation. Advisors are overworked, underpaid and micromanaged to a degree that borders on absurd. From assigned seating to being told not to talk to colleagues outside your “team zone”, it’s a rigid, joyless environment.

Team leaders, they claim, don’t lead; they use their hardest-working staff to prop up the rest, with no extra pay or recognition. Those who raise concerns about workloads or stress are met with hostility, not support. HR, in practice, doesn’t exist. Complain, and you’re out.

Perhaps the most disturbing detail is how participants are treated. Far from tailoring support to people’s circumstances, management allegedly views each person as nothing more than a “job outcome” target, worth up to £3,000 in payment once they’ve earned £4,000 in wages.

According to the whistleblower, this leads to:

1. Pushing people into unsuitable, full-time work, regardless of health conditions or caring responsibilities.

2. Threatening sanctions to force compliance, even on claimants approaching state pension age and those clearly unfit for work.

3. Pressuring participants to travel long distances for irrelevant job starts, simply to get them “off the books”.

They claim management even encouraged threats against participants’ families to intimidate them into taking jobs. And that the Jobcentre forces people into the scheme, and the Restart process often leaves participants more stressed and demoralised than when they began.

Some, they note, start the programme full of hope and confidence, only to emerge months later with their mental health in tatters. Others turn to their GP for sick notes or apply for disability benefits just to escape the pressure.

One of the most alarming allegations is the open sharing of participants’ sensitive information in office meetings. Health conditions, criminal records and personal histories are apparently treated as casual gossip fodder, an outright breach of confidentiality rules.

The post describes a constant churn of staff, with one resignation notice per week being the norm. New hires are often people with no relevant experience, sometimes from completely unrelated careers, given minimal training before being unleashed on vulnerable participants.

At the heart of this testimony is the claim that the Restart Programme is driven by financial incentives, not genuine support. Once a participant hits that magic £4,000 earnings milestone, the provider gets paid and loses all interest in their wellbeing. Whether the participant stays in work or ends up back on benefits is irrelevant.

The post claims that DWP is already facing growing complaints and may remove Seetec’s contract in the future. Whether that happens or not, it’s clear from this insider’s account that the Restart Programme (at least in some places) is failing to deliver the respectful, tailored support it was supposed to provide.

If the allegations are accurate, then Restart isn’t just broken, it’s actively harming the people it claims to help. And that raises a bigger question: when welfare-to-work schemes are built on targets and payments, can they ever truly put people before profit?

What Happened to Bold Street?

Bold Street was once one of Liverpool’s eclectic shopping streets, where independent retailers with a creative spirit thrived. Now, those independent outlets have been drowned out by an avalanche of expensive bars and chain cafés, most with outside seating that takes up large areas of pedestrian walking space.

Streets evolve, of course, but the issue is not whether shop units are full, it’s what replaces long-standing independents, and how that changes the street’s role in civic and cultural life. A full street isn’t automatically a healthy street if the mix of uses narrows and public space becomes more privatised.

One of the casualties of this shift was Rennies Arts & Crafts, which traded on Bold Street for 42 years before closing. Its departure was described on Facebook as a “huge wrench”, a sentiment shared by many who valued the knowledge, artistry and sense of place that such businesses brought. While a few independents, like the radical bookshop News from Nowhere, still survive, they are increasingly surrounded by drink-led businesses charging inflated prices for pints.

Supporters of the changes point to the street’s current bustle and cosmopolitan food scene as proof of success. Or that independents can simply move elsewhere, to side streets or cheaper areas. But a street can be bustling and still lose cultural variety. And while relocation might keep them alive, it strips them of the visibility and civic presence they had in the city centre.

This transformation has prompted considerable debate, with news articles and social media posts questioning whether Bold Street is reinventing itself or simply succumbing to corporate homogeneity. For many, the answer seems to be the latter. This concern is not simple nostalgia, but about the erosion of the unique character, local knowledge and artistry that independent businesses like Rennies provided.

Plans to breathe new life into the area seem to have been ignored. One online forum comment suggested that the potential of Bold Street is being wasted, and called for pedestrianisation, public seating, art installations and tree-lined thoroughfares to be established in it; and expressed frustration regarding the licences issued by the council, which reportedly enable an “army” of street charity collectors to harass passersby.

Meanwhile, the prominent Lyceum building, originally built in 1802 as England’s first subscription library, is symbolic of this lost ambition. It was once a respected public space, but now houses a restaurant offshoot and a mini-golf-bar hybrid, showing no signs of genuine mixed-use or civic engagement.

Liverpool has shown in other places (from its markets to its creative districts) that economic vitality and cultural richness can co-exist. Bold Street could embody that balance again, if planning and licensing decisions made space for more than just the most profitable retailers. 

Bold Street now stands at a crossroads in its long and respected history. It is no longer the thriving, imaginative place it once was, yet it still clings to remnants of its past. The shift from independent enterprise to corporate hospitality has blunted its creative edge, replacing character with commercial blandness. Unless the city takes meaningful steps to prioritise cultural preservation, public space and genuine community use, Bold Street risks becoming just another generic high street.

'GB News Overrates its Ratings' by Andrew Davies—guest blogger

GB News is claiming a "seismic moment" in British broadcasting. Why? Because in July 2025, it barely managed to edge past the BBC News Channel in average daily viewership. But behind the chest-thumping, the reality is far less impressive, and far more revealing.

According to BARB, GB News averaged around 80,600 daily viewers last month, edging just ahead of the BBC News Channel’s 78,700. That’s a lead of fewer than 2,000 people. GB News has also announced strong performance in key time slots like breakfast and weekday evenings, framing it as a transformative moment in UK broadcasting. But dominating a few hours in the day on a low-reach channel like GB News doesn’t make it a media powerhouse—it simply confirms its status as a niche outlet with a loyal, if limited, audience.

GB News has always styled itself as the underdog ("the channel for people who feel unheard") but what it really offers is a steady diet of manufactured grievance and culture war talking points. If it’s drawing in viewers, it’s not because of journalistic rigour. It’s because it knows how to serve outrage with breakfast and paranoia with the evening headlines.

And yet even within its own narrow definition of success, the victory is hollow. When we look at the broader picture, the BBC remains overwhelmingly dominant.

GB News might have edged a daily average, but the BBC News Channel’s weekly reach still far exceeds it—often more than double. That means more people across the UK are watching the BBC, even if only briefly, while GB News relies on a smaller base of habitual viewers. That is not really growth, but more like saturation.

Then there’s the rest of the BBC's output, which dwarfs anything GB News could hope to match. BBC One’s Breakfast, Six O’Clock News and Ten O’Clock News still reach massive audiences. None of those numbers are included in the News Channel’s BARB figures. And that’s before we even include iPlayer and the BBC’s website and app, which together draw more than 40 million users. GB News online just draws over 10 million.

And radio? The BBC’s network of national and regional stations delivers news to millions more every day. GB News, by contrast, doesn’t even try.

So GB News, despite its claims of speaking for "the people", still trails badly in that department. You can game viewing figures for a time, especially when your programming verges on the sensational, but you can't manufacture credibility.

If anything, this supposed breakthrough shows the limits of GB News. It’s carved out a niche. That’s all. A vocal, partisan slice of the public is watching more intently, but that doesn't mean the channel is reshaping British media. It means it's doubling down on its core audience while alienating the rest.

So despite all the noise GB News makes, it’s still playing catch-up.