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Never call me Jock
I am Scottish. Born in Edinburgh, brought up in Glasgow. Both my parents were Scottish, also born in Edinburgh. I went to Aberdeen University and I have a Scottish accent. I proudly wear a kilt and can recite Tam O’Shanter, a magnificent epic poem by Robert Burns. I bristle when people say “England” when they mean “the UK”
Eric Boa
6 min read
Photos and Freedom
Closed-circuit Television (CCTV) is everywhere. Why is this somehow considered acceptable when it is no longer appropriate for an individual taking a photo unless formal consent has been given?
Lynda Goetz
5 min read
No longer left at the door
For a long time, entry came with an unspoken price. Soften the accent. Shorten the name. Leave some part of yourself at the door. Something about that bargain appears to be changing.
Arab and Muslim faces are gradually entering spaces that, a generation ago, seemed locked
Dr Ruba Zeidan
5 min read
The Falklands to Las Islas Malvinas?
In one’s idle moments it is always a modest internal entertainment to conjure up an article that could upset the maximum number of readers, including, naturellement, the revered editor himself. And by George, last night it came to me!
Stoker
5 min read
Where is the Reliable Test for Prostate Cancer?
Every 45 minutes, a man in the UK dies from prostate cancer and the latest official report leaves a troubling question hanging in the air: are we really fighting prostate cancer with the ambition, purpose and coordination it demands?
Denis Lyons
8 min read
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