One Londoner’s week of money talk, ministerial promises and a mother who always knows the news first, plus a rural reading list
Monday, Money Advice from the Corner Shop
Every neighbourhood has someone who gives financial advice without a licence, and in mine it is Omar, who runs the shop on the corner and has a gift for seeing what a person can afford from the way they look at the biscuits. I wrote down his wisdom in Omar's financial advice, and I recommend it over most Budget commentary, partly because it is shorter and partly because it comes with change.
The week in London politics was dominated by sums. Everybody had a view about taxes, borrowing and what a household can bear. My own view is that I am not an economist, and that a diary can be useful without being an expert. What I can do is notice who says what, check whether the figures match the words and report the gap with as much good humour as the situation allows.
The Even-Handed Habit
I try to give each side its best sentence. Those who want lower taxes say that families know better than ministers how to spend their own money. Those who want more public spending say that schools, hospitals and trains are things nobody can buy alone. Neither claim is silly. The argument is about the proportion, and about whether the promises add up. I read the manifestos, check the numbers and then go to the shop and listen to Omar.
Tuesday, Mum Is Already on It
My mother has a gift for knowing the news before the news does. I described how she learns of every global event through a family group chat in Mum already knew about Iran; she is on the family WhatsApp. There is a serious point in it: more and more of us hear about politics from relatives, and a forwarded message is the new front page. It arrives with a thumbs-up, a typo and no source.
The cure, I find, is gentle. When Mum shares something dramatic, I reply with a question: where did you see it? Most of the time she says “Brenda sent it”. Brenda, in turn, got it from a man at bingo. We then look it up together, and the truth turns out to be duller and more interesting than the forward. It is a small act of family journalism, and the tea is excellent.
A Reading List for the Rural Cousins
Mum’s cousins farm in the west country, and they send me links I have grown fond of. For milk, dairyherd.org. For beef, ranchbeefcattle.org. For machines, tractorequipment.org. For the calendar of the growing year, cropcalendar.org.
The money pages are farmmoney.org and smallfarminfo.org. Rural careers are at agjobscareers.org. Shows and rodeos are at fairandrodeo.org. The overview is at ruralfarm.org, with a safety page at farmssafety.org that my cousins say should be read aloud at every wedding in the county.
Housing, Again
No London week is complete without a housing headline, and the London Prat obliged with House Prices Fall, Homes Still Unaffordable. I read it standing in a queue at the bank and nodded so hard the man in front turned round. The even-handed observation is that falling prices and rising rents can happen together, and that the two groups most affected, buyers and renters, are rarely in the same room.
The solutions on offer range from building more to controlling rents to adjusting taxes, and every one has advocates and critics. I would only ask that each proposal comes with a number and a date, so that we can check it later.
Wednesday, Notes from the Bus
The 29 bus gave me my usual seminar in public opinion. A young man discussed the Chancellor with his phone. A woman in a bright scarf explained to her friend why nobody could afford anything. A retired gentleman in the front seat said nothing but looked as if he had seen all this before and kept the receipts.
I got off at my stop with a notebook full of half-sentences and a conviction that the best political commentary in London is delivered on public transport, free of charge, to anyone who remembers to listen.
A Note on Tips and Tills
Omar’s final lesson, delivered over a bag of satsumas, was that every purchase is a vote. The things you buy decide which shops stay open, which jobs survive and which streets keep their lights on. I have thought about this more than any manifesto, and I find it oddly stirring. A pound spent locally goes round the neighbourhood three or four times before it leaves, and nobody has to pass a bill to make it happen.
That is not an argument against chains or online shopping, which have their own virtues. It is simply a reminder that a high street is a political institution of a quiet sort, and that its voters turn up every morning.
Where to read next
The rest of the shelf lives at prat.uk, bohiney.com and farm.fm. For a second opinion on the week, The Daily Mash keeps its own counsel and its own hours.
SOURCE: https://bohiney.com/