Wednesday, 27 May 2026

The gaslighting is starting

Net migration fell to 177,000 in 2025, a long way down from the peak of over 900,000 in 2023. And already the whispering has started. The problem's solved, gone away, no need to worry. Supporters of Andy Burnham, for one, are known to back a less strict approach than Shabana Mahmood's.

They're gaslighting us. They don't want us to inquire into just how and why it was decided to allow somewhere between 3.2 million and 3.8 million people to arrive in the UK between January 2021 and June 2024.  This is about half the number of arrivals over the previous 20 years and 4 times the average rate of arrivals over that time (nearly 7 million say they arrived between 2001 and 2021). It's around the population of the 6 largest English cities after London: Birmingham, Leeds, Liverpool, Sheffield, Manchester and Bristol.  And it's more than the entire population of Greater Manchester including the boroughs of Bolton, Bury, Oldham, Rochdale, Salford, Stockport, Tameside, Trafford, Wigan and the city of Manchester.

This was the so-called "Boriswave" that we didn't really know about at the time. There was a net migration figure in just two and a half years of 2.6 million to 2.9 million. It wasn't so much a wave as a tsunami:



The Boriswave has been described as the single most important demographic event in modern British history. It was equivalent to a population growth of nearly 4%. To put it another way, at least 1 in every 25 people walking the streets of Britain today arrived in the last 5 years. 

Indeed, reputable sources think we don't really have a clear picture and say that, despite efforts by the ONS to improve migration data, we still only have a relatively hazy picture of this extraordinary demographic phenomenon. The degree of cultural change is larger than implied in the net migration figure as there was a surge in emigration of British nationals. Some experts in the field believe that we'll only get a clearer picture with another census. Indeed academics floated the idea of an emergency 2026 census at the time of the 2021 census which had to adopt different methodology because of covid.

I know some people don't think that the extraordinary scale of this huge social experiment is of any significance whatsoever. They see immigration as an untrammelled good thing.

The Tories don't want you to enquire too much because they can't explain why they lost so much control of everything, including their senses. Labour don't want you to enquire too much because they don't want to have their hands tied and were complicit in previous surges in immigration. And many of its MPs and supporters don't see the problem anyway which is why they say the Home Secretary's plans to limit migration are "un-British". Wes Streeting, who might or might not be a candidate for the Labour leadership when he decides if he's got any balls, has branded people who question immigration to this country as "reactionaries". Better than the more normal term of "racist" I suppose. Most of us don't question immigration, Wes, we question who, how many, over what time, for what purpose and what pressures will it put on housing and services. Branding that reactionary is actually pathetically trying to avoid the debate. And I thought there might be more to him.

Reform bang on about the subject but other than sound bites about limiting numbers they don't engage in any actual debate about what the country needs and how to plan for it. Like all of their pronouncements they have the feel of a random array of sticking plasters with no coherent overarching analysis or strategy.

I listened to Chris Warburton interviewing a Home Office spokesman on Radio 5 Live recently. Warburton repeatedly pressed for what numerical targets the Home Office had for migration getting the slightly odd answer that they don't have any. "What, not even any informal, internal targets?" "No". I was hoping Warburton would ask a follow up question about the well known Treasury model's assumptions for migration, which tend to show more people = more growth. If the Treasury has a target, or at least a number in mind, won't the Home Office come under pressure to make sure economic growth isn't constrained by having too few people? If not, shouldn't they?

Of course the original spike in migration came under Blair, when the long term net migration total of 68,000 over the previous 25 years became 5.9 million in the following 25 years. But at least Blair and Brown were pretty open about what they were up to when they opened up for EU free movement in one go without any phasing which they could have done. They smirked that the arrival of useful people like Polish plumbers would be predominantly Labour voters. Cameron told us he'd get it back to a net annual figure of tens of thousands without justifying whether that sort of number would be optimal or apparently doing anything to deliver it.

The Boriswave was disporotionately made up of people arriving on health and care visas but, possibly in order to attract enough of them, they were allowed to bring in an extraordinary number of dependents. No-one has ever sought, to my knowledge, to show that those visas were actually necessary to maintain essential services or that the number of dependents arriving made any long term economic sense. It might do if they were mainly children, but not if they were of advanced years. The data would probably be very difficult to get. The lack of curiosity of civil servants and ministers of the time on these issues is perplexing. Or is it?

This area is crying out for dispassionate analysis and debate. Instead we just get move along now, nothing to see here. If anything happened it's stopped now. Sleep easy, leave it with us. Yes, sure.

While the net migration figure has fallen, Camilla Long noted that it wasn't even that good. Arrivals last year were still 813,00: almost the population of Greater Leeds. Down from 2023, sure, when it was as a bit bigger than Birmingham.

The politicians who are against immigration won't hear of the benefits. Those in favour seem unwilling to discuss the quantitative implications. Or bewilderingly think if you don't have open borders you're not being "kind" or "British". No other country I know of has politicians that talk that way.

Wouldn't it feel better to be treated like grown ups than condescended to by a bunch of cowards?

Or as Camilla Long said isn't the most patriotic thing you could do now - what is true love of one's country - is to reject people who trash it and pretend it's you who's the problem.

I assure you, you're not. They are.

P.S.

Concern about large numbers of incomers is of course far from new. Our innate concern about the unfamiliar, in particular people, isn't as I understand it, built into our DNA. Rather it's linked to one of the oldest parts of the hunan brain, the amydala and our fight or flight reflex. Though clearly it then becomes more than that longer term: we come to terms with it, sometimes finding logical reasons to reject it or perhaps finding information, arguments or excuses to support it.

I read a review of a book on the history of early modern period Britain recently and hostility to immigrants featured significantly. On May Day 1517 London apprentices rioted against "strangers and aliens", looting their homes and shops and breaking into Newgate prison to free a group of youths who had been arrested for assaulting foreigners.

In those times many believed that "aliens and strangers eate the bread from the poore fatherless children". Others feared that foreigners brought their pregnant wives over so that their offspring would "win...the liberty that other Englishmen do enjoy" while arguing that such children "retain an inclination and kind affection to the countries of their parents". 

Although many felt solidarity with the numerous protestant refugees who arrived in the decades after the Reformation, they came in such vast numbers that, by the 1570s, nearly 40% of Norwich's population was foreign-born. When the Flemish hatmaker Clais van Weveken arrived there in the mid 1560s he reassured his wife that "the English [are] quite loving to our nation". But attitudes hardened in difficult times and by 1593 worshippers at London's Dutch Church were receiving death threats.

Religious prejudice was a growing problem for English Catholics, so this may not all have been about where people came from.

Nevertheless, I'd say it all goes to show that if you preside over a sudden and major demographic shift you can't just assume that people will accept it. Especially if you try to tell them that they are imagining the problem, it isn't there or has gone away.

The above is extracted from Katherine Harvey's review of the book This Little World - a new history of Tudor and Stuart England by Nadini Das, published by Bloomsbury which appeared in the Sunday Times Culture section on 24 May 2026.

_________________________________________________________

Sources for main post: 

Camilla Long. Politicians insist we share their values even if they're the only ones that still believe in them. Sunday Times 24 May 2026

The Guardian. What do the immigration figures for the UK really show? 15 Sept 2025

A migration revolution. Migration  Observatory briefing document covering the scale of immigration and net migration in the UK since the early 2000s and under the post-Brexit immigration system. December 2025

Centre for Policy Studies. A Migration Revolution. Nov 2025

Population of English cities and Greater Manchester from Wikipedia. 

Some sources quote higher numbers than I've used here: rather than 3.8 million total arrivals in 2021 to mid 2024 I've seen 4.8 million reported for the total inflow in the full 3 years of 2021-24. The lack of good and timely data doesn't help.

Friday, 15 May 2026

A pedant decides whether he should cavil or nitpick

I am a self confessed, indeed proud, pedant (did I hear "you don't say?")

I was reminded of this tendency reading the whimsical Back Pages section of New Scientist a while back. In an earlier edition of the mag there had been an aside noting that "botany is a rose garden filled with thorns", a combination of words that would apparently mean something to Taylor Swift fans*. In an admirable bit of pedantry a reader had written in to point out:

"Sorry, but botany is not a rose garden filled with thorns, unless you've got shrubs like blackthorn. Roses do not have thorns but prickles which are superficial epidermal outgrowth whereas thorns are modified stems."

The sharp bits on roses aren't attached very firmly to the stems - you can easily snap them off from the stem sideways. So, while one might give you a nasty scratch the sharp bits on blackthorn or pyracantha are a very different matter, being firmly part of the stem of the plant. They don't snap off and so are capable of sticking much further into your soft tissue if you take liberties.

So roses have prickles, not thorns. Who knew? And who's going to tell Will Shakespeare, who says in sonnet 35:

No more be griev'd at that which thou hast done

Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud.

I have a strong suspicion that the prickle/thorn botanic terminology post dates the Bard, however. And translation would also come into play when Roman historian Ammianus Marcellinus is quoted as saying "a rose among thorns" in the 4th century BC, although his rose plant could have been between thorny plants, rather than the rose flower being between spiky parts of the same plant. This saying is reputedly the origin of the phrase "a rose between two thorns", typically used by a third party when a lady is sitting with two men as a flattering compliment to her beauty. I have repurposed that phrase many times when I've been with two ladies, outrageously hinting that I'm the prettiest. But in the future should I say "a rose between two prickles"?

If I do I'll have to be very careful as it could easily come out all wrong...

Mrs H is not always - indeed it would be fair to say is rarely - fond of my instinct to cavil and nitpick at almost anything. One of my very favourite nitpicks dates back the best part of 35 years. We were watching Die Hard 2, the action thriller set at a snowbound airport which is the site of a dastardly plot by a bunch of baddies. Bruce Willis, playing off duty policeman John McClane, has - as in the first Die Hard film set in a skyscraper - again spent most of the film rolling around in his increasingly grubby vest fighting people after his concerns are ignored by the local on duty cops. In the denouement the baddies are escaping in a jumbo jet accelerating down the runway on take off. McClane, having been involved in a fight on the wing trying to prevent the plane taking off, has managed to open a fuel valve. Lying in the snow on the runway he uses his cigarette lighter to ignite the fuel trail. The flame catches the plane up and it explodes in a huge fireball.

As the titles rolled the conversation went something like:

Mrs H "well that was exciting - what did you think?" 

Me: "Give me a minute, I'm doing some mental arithmetic". 

Mrs H "eh?"

After which I pointed out that it wouldn't be possible to light kerosene with a lighter, it's just not volatile enough. If McClane had used a wick, just maybe, though probably not in the snow. When I'd done my maths I also pointed out that the flame speed of a hydrocarbon in air is at least an order of magnitude below that of a jumbo jet's take off speed.

So sorry Bruce/John, but the baddies got away.

I expect Mrs H told me that it was just a story, it was supposed to be entertainment and I should suspend belief when watching a film or reading a book. 

Which is why I mainly read non-fiction. I'm just far too literal. And pleased with a top class nitpick!

But do I cavil, or nitpick? I may need to check if they really are synonyms...

Nerdy notes:

The flash point of a liquid is the lowest temperature at which it can form an ignitable vapour in air. For kerosene it's 38C, whereas for petrol it's minus 40C. Which is one of the reasons kerosene is used for jet fuel, it's very much safer. So McClane would have struggled to light a trail of liquid kerosene leaking from the plane in a sub zero ambient temperature. The flame speed of a hydrocarbon in air is typically around 4 metres per second (sadly I still remember this from working in safety and risk assessment). I was converting metres a second to miles an hour, so the sum I was doing would have been: 4 times 60 times 60 equals 14400 metres an hour; 1500 metres is a "metric" mile at the Olympics but a real mile is a bit longer (actually a bit over 1600). 14400 divided by 1600 is about 10. (The actual answer is closer to 9 but I would have been approximating). Clearly a jumbo jet take off speed is a lot more than 10mph (it's actually about 180mph). So sorry John, your flame couldn't catch up with the jet as it was just getting airborne, even if you'd been able to light it in the first place.

Expert nitpickers among you might counter that the flame speed I have quoted is for a laminar flame. Turbulent flow can significantly increase the flame speed, potentially up to hundreds of metres a second, which could certainly do the trick. However that requires confining structures to generate turbulence by interacting with the expanding combustion products. This is basically what happened at Flixborough in 1974 when a huge cloud of cyclohexane vapour mixed with air and didn't just catch fire but exploded with the force of a bomb. It was the largest ever chemical industry accident in the UK and it killed 28 people. The open air explosion created a supersonic blast wave, similar to high explosive in a rare and then little understood phenomenon called an unconfined vapour cloud explosion. On most occasions ignition of a flammable gas cloud results in what is known as a deflagration with the flame front travelling at less than the speed of sound. Deflagrations are extremely dangerous but they don't cause the type of damage typical of an explosion. 

Subsequently it became understood that, for a vapour cloud to explode in this manner, the expanding gases have to be accelerated by interaction with structures - and the type of structures found on a chemical plant are capable of causing that as well as providing the ignition source for the the flammable mixture. The accelerating flame can then set off the bulk of the gas cloud in a hugely powerful explosion, not just a big fireball. But John McClane didn't have a large vapour cloud for the flame to accelerate through, nor any way of generating that kind of turbulence. The film just showed the flame catching up with the plane just after take off, resulting in it exploding in a fireball.

Unless the plane was taking off on a very hot day so a vapour cloud had formed and he ejected methane forcefully from his body, lit it with his lighter and used that to somehow set off a turbulent explosion. No, I'm not buying that bum story either but it wouldn't have been any taller.

Feeling prickly was the item that told me roses don't have thorns and it appeared in the New Scientist edition of 11 October 2025

"A rose garden filled with thorns" is a lyric is Taylor Swift's song Blank Space, apparently