BY ALEX STORY
Zia Yusuf, the chairman of Reform, spoke of the “remoralisation” of the young following his party’s recent local election successes. It struck me as a profoundly meaningful word.
He argued that the process must begin by teaching history accurately, reminding our children of our country’s greatness and of its Greats. There is much to be proud of, yet over the last two decades, the percentage of 18–24-year-olds who say they are proud to be British has halved, plummeting to just 41%—with nearly half claiming that Britain is racist.
That last assertion is odd because data wholly contradicts this pervasive, propagandised talking point. Indeed, a study by King’s College London’s Policy Institute on global racism found that Britain ranks among the least racist nations. Only 2% of Britons would “not like to have foreigners as neighbours”, compared to a third in Iran, a fifth in Egypt, and 15% in Morocco.
The truth is, we are paying for the privilege of witnessing not just our country’s dismantling but also the demoralisation of our youth. As Mr Yusuf alluded to, they are increasingly unable to cherish our shared culture, history, and mythologies. Yet this growing sense of shame among our children is manufactured—not accidental, but deliberate policy. And because it is policy, it is, with hard work, eminently reversible.
In short, our taxes are being spent less on tangible deliverables—such as infrastructure, defence, or law and order—and increasingly on what Mr Yusuf termed “woke nonsense”. Much of the state apparatus is steeped in observable anti-British ideology. Worse still, racism—an extension of Darwinism—has become a philosophical cornerstone of the state itself.
We now find ourselves in a bizarre situation: while the British people are not racist, our establishment is. The untouchable archetype—the (culturally) Christian, white, privately employed, married man who pays his taxes, cares for his family, and loves his country—is despised by the Left with a passion dating back (at least) to the Fabian Society’s inception in 1884: that incubator of second-rate, hubristic pseudo-intellectualism.
Our police force is a prime example of this ideological capture. Forces like West Yorkshire have embraced race as a core ideology, rejecting white applicants while sidelining white officers for promotion. Chief Constable John Robins argues that racism is necessary—even calling for legislation to facilitate discrimination in favour of ethnic minorities. By deliberately restricting white applicants, a shortage of future officers is created—one that must eventually be filled.
This may explain, some might argue, the exponential rise in officially condoned illegal Channel crossings. After all, the majority of these arrivals are aged 18–25—prime recruitment age. From Robins’ perspective, this is a policy corollary: in a decade, our police force could well be composed largely of today’s illegal migrants—hunters turned gamekeepers, so to speak.
Yet what truly matters to us, as British subjects, is not race—it never was. What we demand is law-abiding, respectful competence from our institutions, rooted in the Crown-in-Parliament tradition, not international law or Sharia. This can only be achieved through honest, open competition, underpinned by equality before the law.
Promoting the best—physically, intellectually, and morally—is the key to long-term stability. Conversely, advancing substandard candidates is disastrous—for the individual, the police, and ultimately the nation. Promoting people beyond their capabilities breeds demoralisation and societal distrust.
Zia Yusuf’s stance is therefore welcome. He is right to highlight the corrosive drip-feed of hatred from taxpayer-subsidised, out-of-touch organisations—a phenomenon that must end. It is an affront to all, a denial of our right to exist.
Chief Constable Robins’ position is culturally anathema. Like the “triplets of doom”—Hitler, Stalin, and Mao—he believes in race, class, and caste. We Britons do not. Whether practising or not, we hold that “before God, we are all equal”.
In short, men like Robins—and the hundreds of thousands who share his views—have no place in public office. Yet they remain, entrenched. This is partly why learning to love our country again feels like an uphill struggle.
Britannia’s body is bruised, emaciated, and scarred—so much so that we recoil in horror. She has lost much of her radiance. But we must not look away.
To remoralise society—if there is still time—we must rediscover the origins of our morality. The clues are everywhere: in our villages, towns, and cities; in the architecture our forebears left behind; in our literature, landscape, mythology, and language. In short: in our past.
Her survival—and ours—depends on us, her “little platoons” (as Burke wrote in Reflections on the Revolution in France), fighting for her memory before it is lost forever. Britain will endure only if our youth rediscover what we once loved—and why we foolishly let it slip away.
As Zia Yusuf eloquently observed: “There has been an industrial-scale demoralisation, particularly of young people—our children.” All the better to steal their inheritance from them.
We must learn to see again.
Alex Story is an Olympian, entrepreneur and writer on economic and social issues.