Last day at Manchester Metropolitan University today

Some personal news. Today is my last day at Manchester Metropolitan University after 5 very enjoyable years.

I first worked in the Vice-Chancellor’s office soon after Malcolm arrived, then for the past two years have been part of Public Affairs, with Michael Stephenson and Josie Sykes, in the wider Communications team. I’d like to think I’ve been able to contribute to the University’s strategic progress over that time, particularly acting as an advocate with the business community and local government in Greater Manchester. 

 

I’m grateful to so many people for the opportunities that the last five years have presented, and for the support from peers and colleagues during a challenging time over the last year of working remotely. 

I’m particularly proud of what we achieved with MetroPolis, the University’s own think tank, a great asset for the University in projecting our research to policy makers. Hopefully this will continue to have a positive effect on the standing of the University, but more importantly to create better policy to improve people’s lives.

I hope to stay in touch with so many friends that I’ve made in my time at the University and to apply all I’ve learnt from you in the next phase of my career. 

Mobile number is the same, and we haven't done so already, we could always do the LinkedIn thing - https://www.linkedin.com/in/michaeltaylormanchester/ - either way, it would be great to stay in touch.

Labour pains

I've realised I've just come through a period of reading and study of politics that has been to the exclusion of so much else that I enjoy. Now that I've submitted my thesis on devolution, I think I may be immersing myself in new concerns. So consider this a bit of a last hurrah on politics for a while.

As I write the news is consumed by the harsh spotlight being shone on the shoddy actions of the government. A couple of weeks ago Keir Starmer was being written off as a loser for not running the government closer in the polls. I'm less interested in these kinds of Westminster village issues, more in the big picture, societal changes that have been the driving force behind politics, but also behind consumer and social behaviours.

In Despised, why the Modern Left Hates the Working Class, Paul Embery rages with anger at the disassociation of Labour from the traditional working class, he deliberately doesn’t say white, but that's what he means. He then aggressively prosecutes the culture war, pushing back on so-called irrelevant niche issues - immigration, gay rights and feminism - all such efforts collapse when the agenda is dominated by Windrush, It’s A Sin and the murder of Sarah Everard. What was that you were saying, Paul? OK, as you were. It's a shame because there is a need to examine party allegiance even if it seems the forces are stacked against Labour and progressive parties under the present electoral system.

He also seems to conflate the wooing of the middle classes of middle England under Tony Blair with the desertion of the working class in favour of a new constituency of trendy middle class liberals. That’s not quite what happened. 

A far better explanation of the electoral schism is identified in Rob Ford and Maria Sobolewska's Brexitland, or in an Economist piece on the "Barratt Britain" of towns with new houses where young families aren't interested in the culture war, aren't ravaged by austerity and don't hate the country they live in. Life could be better, but it isn't as utterly miserable for them as the last two Labour leaders said it was. "There is an egalitarianism to Barratt Britain. Accountants, teachers, sales reps, plasterers and driving instructors live on the same street, and the smaller choice of pubs and restaurants means they socialise together, too. As long as mortgages remain affordable and petrol is cheap, it is not a place that worries much about politics."

In The Dignity of Labour Cruddas is better on all of this societal change until he constructs a straw man argument that says there are advocates for a stance that Labour doesn’t need the nativist working class anymore because they’re dying out and a new base is emerging in Remainia. The fact this argument isn’t cited or sourced is evidence it probably doesn’t seriously exist. 

Chris Clarke drafts three world views that often overlap, the dark knight, the puppet master and the golden age. It provides plenty of evidence for the kind of inclusive politics that I have consistently supported, but know is landing very badly, having lost control of the Labour Party and tactically failed to stop the rise of populism from the right. Much as I agree with much of what he argues, and understand that Labour needs to be sensible again, I got the impression that the primary goal of the book seems to be to conclusively settle a twitter dispute with Owen Jones. I gave up on that a long time ago. 

East London MP Jon Cruddas has the potential to be an important thinker and he at least takes seriously the charge that the working class have abandoned Labour. The points about the organisational strength of Labour in Dagenham leaves you wanting more and sounds quite familiar with what has happened in Manchester, where a vibrant ground campaign can at least arrest long term seismic shifts, but can also serve to listen and reflect how people are living their lives.

Labour is more than anything a party in desperate need of a compelling narrative, a strong sense of what they are for. Starting with work, our relationship with our jobs and careers, isn’t a bad start for a party so rooted in the workplace, after all the clue is surely in the name.

I badly overestimated the appetite for a centre-ground alternative to Johnson and Brexit, I genuinely thought educated, non-racist, fair-minded people would reject it. The trouble was they feared Labour's alternative even more. These are all decent contributions - even Paul Embery's has merit - but I'm kind of all Laboured out now.    

Hosting at Invest North 21: Selling the north to the world

Had a wonderful time hosting this final session at the Invest North 21 conference last week, Selling the North to the World organised by The Business Desk. The discussion was great, but I'm probably more excited by the way the new podcast rig looks and sounds.

I was joined by Collette Roche, chief operating officer at Manchester United Football Club, James Mason, chief executive for Welcome to Yorkshire, Sheona Southern, managing director at Marketing Manchester and Kerry Thomas – head of marketing – Blackpool Cluster – Merlin Entertainments Group.

We covered so many great things our tourist sector is gearing up to market as the economy reopens. But the spirit of the people was a constant. “Friendly”, “Down-to-earth” and “Hospitable” were just some of the attributes which will be used to help maximise the North’s attraction to international visitors, according to our panel of experts. I was pleased to slide in references to Freshwalks, my DJ work and Tame Impala, which hopefully added something.

Hope you enjoy it. It reminded me of a couple of things, I really enjoy doing this kind of thing. It's not for me to judge whether I'm any good at it, but the feedback was good. There's a link to coverage of the session here.

A new column in the paper - Music Therapy

I've started writing a weekly music column in the Tameside Reporter. It's a bit of a plug for the show and a chance to share a few stories around the music me and Neil play every Sunday night. This one however is more about the therapy side of things. Hope you like it.

Link is here.

Mermaid's Pool by David Nolan reviewed

It dawned on me half way through The Mermaid's Pool that I was far more familiar with the universe it depicted than I first appreciated. It takes a rare skill as a storyteller to do this. Not only has David Nolan carefully and painstakingly crafted characters and a realistic backdrop, he's also planted seeds in your imagination in his first novel, Black Moss, set nearby, but with a seemingly different storyline, era and location. There are overlapping characters, but not in an overt way, not as a centrepoint, but as a landscape. Obviously part of the reason I liked the book as much as I did is because it's got bits in it that I know about and am a little bit obsessive: British fascism, Kinder Scout, rave music and local politics. So often I read books about worlds I know something of and when a vague detail isn't quite right then it ruins it for me. Again, it's a skill of a journalist and writer of David Nolan's quality that he never slips up. I trust then that the depictions of police procedure and cancer care are as well researched. All that said, the real pinnacle of Mermaid's Pool is the story. It is pacy, shocking, violent, but also very well structured. You think you've worked out plot twists, but there's always a surprise in store. Highly recommended and I can't wait for the third in this Manc Noir trilogy, The Ballad of Hanging Lees.

Review - 'Life of a Mountain: Helvellyn' by Terry Abraham

In fairly short order we were treated to the BBC showing all three of Terry Abraham's films in his series Life of a Mountain, the latest being A Year On Helvellyn. Although this is the most recent addition to his series of stunning films about the mountains of the Lake District we didn't watch them in strict order. First we watched the Scafell Pike film from 2014, then the latest one, and then last night finally completed  the trilogy with the return to BBC4 of A Year on Blencathra from 2017. I loved how all of the interviewees were so passionate and eloquent, how they seemed to be just in conversation, rather than being interviewed. That takes a particular skill. They are in no way tourist films, but are deeply respectful of the everyday lives of people in the Lake District and their relationship with all three mountains and their different characteristics. Terry has clearly got better and better as a film maker and developed a sense of what worked from the first two, so much so that I would almost militantly urge anyone who hasn't seen any of them to view them in the correct order - Scafell Pike, Blencathra, Helvellyn - and see how they reach a peak of their own. A spiritual dimension definitely populated the first two, but deeper historical and social context seeped into the Blencathra film (as well as more music), but Helvellyn had the right blend of everything (and less music).

My own relationship with the Lake District is lifelong and I love it deeply. My Mum is from there, my Grandma spent time in the sanatorium on Blencathra when she conducted TB, and I've probably had more holidays there than anywhere else. For all of that my run rate on its mountains isn't great - I've hiked up a dozen, no more. I went up Catbells and Skiddaw in October last year (not on the same day) and still feel quite emotional about how much I enjoyed doing so, and with the friends I did it with, at a time we now look back on as a false dawn, when we all felt lockdown was easing. These films have drawn me ever closer to these mountains as I'm sure they will for you too. And I think we'll do so more respectfully, more sensitively and with an enormous sense of gratitude that it is possible. Thank you Terry Abraham.

Lockdown telly and why we're really missing Saga Noren

 

We tend to fall head over heels for some series. The Bridge (BBC4) was definitely one of them. Having arrived at it 9 years late, and seen the conclusion just three years after everyone else, I do feel slightly foolish for not having responded to a strong recommendation from my friend Martin Carr throughout that time. I know that an obvious question will be about my own take on the depiction of Saga Noren as a rare principal character with Asperger's (though it's never described as such). My own personal response is the same as it often is about anything related to the condition, and that Sofie Helin does an incredible job as the actor playing the very well written part of Saga. She's not a type, she's unique, she's both brittle and hard as nails; impenetrable and yet lovable; vulnerable yet impervious to others. There's still much to forgive with the series, unlikely plot twists and dramatic reveals, and often ludicrously complex themed killing sprees, but though it's gruesome at times it never feels exploitative or cruel. I've only been to Copenhagen once, and don't remember it being this gloomy either, or having so many disused industrial sites where ritual murders can take place, but it is portraying a grim world, and usually in winter. It has all been quite a ride with Saga, Martin, Henrik, Hans and Lillian, and all of the complicated, messy, normal, odd and quirky characters that have formed the 38 episodes. I feel I want more and I have genuinely felt loss over the last 24 hours that I will never again see that Porsche 911 ("ahem, 911S, actually," Saga Noren would say), or hear the words: "Saga Noren Lanskrim Malmo".

For the time being I'm immersed in The Bridge fandom, here, and here. A warning though, there are spoilers.

Modern Love (Prime) - slightly quirky, but brilliantly well acted crop of New York-based single act stories. The one with Anne Hathaway utterly broke me. But mostly they were beautifully packaged, wonderful immersions.

The Serpent (BBC) - there was something creepy and unsettling about the BBC’s drama based on the true story of Charles Sobhraj; and at times it was unbearably tense just waiting for him to kill another hapless victim lured into his lair of evil. But the BBC adaptation of the true story hangs together really well and manages to pull it off with enough panache without you still feeling anything but revulsion for him and his pathetic sidekicks. Going down the rabbit hole of research on Sobhraj was quite an eye opener, the consistently excellent Andrew Anthony, who has met him twice, is particularly good in GQ here. Good use of music in the series too. 

Lupin (Netflix) - really enjoyed this stylish and slick French thriller with a deeply moral core. 

Vikas Shah's new book - impressive access, delightful insights

I've known Vikas Shah for about ten years. I first noticed him as he was doing a blog where he interviewed incredible people that you wouldn't expect a textiles trader from Manchester to be accessing, never mind uploading to a very basic looking blog called Thought Economics. In that time I've seen him grow in confidence, but never diminish in either energy or ambition. I've seen him fall in love and get married, get an MBE and deliver an incredibly powerful TEDx talk. This book then marks just another milestone in his fascinating life. In it he tries to do justice to the access he's gained by virtue of his own raw audacity and package the insights gained into a useful bundle, curated under such headings as identity, culture, leadership and entrepreneurship. The interviews include Maya Angelou, Marina Abramovich, Bertie Ahern and Carlo Ancelotti. And that's just the As. 

There's a lot of insight and some remarkably candid reveals, which I won't spoil, but having gone through them all, I still found myself being genuinely more stimulated and impressed by the interpretations of those insights that Vikas himself shares. Maybe that's a bias of my own pride in what he's achieved, but I rather think he's earned the right. 

The End of the Beginning

We've all crawled towards the finish line of the end of January. It feels like the 51st, never mind the 31st. It's always a bit of a grind, even in normal times, but the routine of my life has always been the happy promise of a family get together and a party for my Dad's birthday at the end of this month. This year it's been a card and a phone call, not steak and chips in the Toll House.  Like so many things, making do and staying safe is no substitute. Last week I tried to make an effort and caught up with a few good friends over the phone and Zoom and whatever else. It's not the same as breaking bread with them, or the free flowing conversation that comes from a walk on the hills, or on an awayday to the match, or just time well spent doing nothing much at all. My stock response to friendly enquiries is that I'm OK. But I worry, constantly, about how everyone is. And I find my self saying it's OK not to be OK, like I know what I'm talking about. Instead I stop and talk to this object in a field, above, that I pass on my morning walk. I don't know what it is, what it does, or why it's there. And then it speaks back to me saying pretty much the same thing of me. We seem to have been in close proximity to heartbreak and real grief recently, the net result being we hold our own ever closer, literally and metaphorically, depending on distance. I'm relieved our parents have had the vaccine, it gives us the hope that this is edging towards something better, that there will be birthday get togethers again, that we will enjoy life as it is meant to be lived. Until then we can only say what I say at the end of our radio show each week - look after each other out there. 

 

Upping my podcast game, an update

I said I wanted to 'up my podcast game' a couple of weeks ago. Anyway, on that theme two recordings I did this month have landed today, rather proving the point that the production, marketing, social and framing of podcasts generally has been through quite the evolution.

First up, two of my hiking friends Mitch and Richard asked me to carry on a conversation that probably started at Kinder Downfall earlier in the year, just as we came out of lockdown one. They have an amazing podcast series about the world of work and it was so good to speak with them.  

Then the Higher Education policy platform and news hub WonkHE invited me on to the WonkHE Show pick through the week's news. Hope you enjoy it.

Upping the podcast game

One of my New Year resolutions is to up my podcast game. I want to do more of it, I want to get better at it, and I want to have a bit more production control over an end product. 

I'm getting some better gear to complement a top quality microphone (currently without a cable), and have got the youngest son on the case for a mixer and the best software. 

But that's enough about me. The reason is down to the absolute game changing quality of podcast output over the last year. The ones I'm involved in have got really good, so a big shout to Ian from the BRFCS podcast for nailing the tech and the production. Obviously doing a show with a proper radio station with broadcasting professionals means we have raised our game too.

Even in a global pandemic with travel restrictions, the dramatic quality of podcasts keeps getting better. My mate Macca casually asked me this week if I could recommend a few and that's focused my mind. 

Here they are:

Nonce hunting with John Sweeney (above).

Lions Led by Donkeys, history podcast from the US. The ones on the Khmer Rouge are amongst the most harrowing I've ever come across, but because of their presentation style, it's more digestable and at times it's darkly entertaining.

 

I recommended this about a major financial scam, but I've also blogged about it before, here. It was the story of 2019 and it's far from resolved.

   

A couple of deep dive investigations. One into an absolute balloon who managed to con her way around New York, and a far more sinister account of spooks, skullduggery and dark state actions in war zones and online.

   

So many of these music and culture nostalgia trips are absolute crap. This is actually really good. Creditable sources, captures the scene really well.

   

For curiosity and stimulation, no-one gets near the RSA. You'd expect the son of Laurie Taylor to be a good broadcaster, but Matthew Taylor is a peerless public intellectual.

   

Finally, there's Matt Forde. You know I'm a fan so I'm not going to miss him off a list of great podcasts.

 

Immersed in the Wild

 

We were only only six years late to this, but the best film we saw in 2020 was Wild, based on the true story by Cheryl Strayed, brilliantly adapted by Nick Hornby, and with an awesome performance by Reese Witherspoon as Cheryl.

At times it was a tough watch, seeing Cheryl's heartbreak and descent, but if you'd seen the trailer (above) and knew the back story, you'd already priced that in. What made it all the more remarkable was the atmosphere it generated, helped along by the scenery of the Pacific Crest Trail that she walked, but also the music. It's taken me down a Grateful Dead, Simon & Garfunkel and Leonard Cohen rabbit hole which we've played a bit of on our Music Therapy programme. 

The book is also on order, but I might wait before getting some Danner boots.

Across an Angry Sea - the SAS in the Falklands War

I used to do short book reviews based on doing a pithy description in the time it took to ride eight floors in a lift. It was based on a journey I did every day for 11 years, often with a book in my hand, and often accompanied by a colleague who'd ask, what's that about? 

The modern equivalent is a passing Teams or Zoom call. Enough time that they can still concentrate, and not too much of a monologue that I'll lose my train of thought.

I thought this today when discussing recent cultural consumptions. I mentioned that I'd read a book about the SAS in the Falklands War of 1982 and though I didn't get an eyeroll, I definitely picked up enough of a scent to say in reply - it's not what you think. It really isn't like something from that macho confessional that did so well a couple of decades ago. Cedric Delves is incredibly thoughtful, deeply respectful and a very, very good writer. It does cover the historical narrative of the Falklands War, but it isn't a history of that conflict. 

I found three things about it particularly enthralling.

One, the terrain of the Falklands and absolutely dreadful weather conditions they constantly battled and the conversations they had about this new invention called Gore-tex.

Two, the morality of war. There was a clear sense that this was a right and just endeavour. But in executing it there is total respect for the lives of other soldiers, especially of the enemy. This was probably the last war our forces have fought under something like civilised rules of engagement. Geneva convention, terms of surrender, prisoners, etc. All the close encounters with actual Argentines are fascinating.

Three, the humility of the SAS. I know that sounds totally counter intuitive, but they are not as portrayed in shoot em up action films and by Lewis Collins and Ant Middleton. We hear a lot about command management and military discipline, but Delves' descriptions of tactical consensus building was genuinely eye opening. I also learnt the difference between material and materiel. 

OK, we've been stuck on the landing for a couple of minutes while I did my three things, but this was a great book.

Happy New Year

I'm sorry I didn't blog in December, after doing a daily entry throughout November. I had a busy enough time getting out on the hills and trying to focus. I genuinely couldn't summon up the enthusiasm for an end of year reflection on 2020; everyone's said what needs to be said. I do owe a few music, book and film reviews but to be honest I've enjoyed the time to read and listen and immerse over Christmas without the pressure of doing a review. The radio show has been a good outlet for some of that, but none of it is massively contemporary anyway. I've also done a bit of journaling, which means it's ideas and thoughts that aren't fully formed yet. Anyway, take care and see you soon.

A month in lockdown - thank you for your company

First of all, an apology. When we were locked down at the start of November and I decided to blog every day for a month, I drew up a bit of a list of likely topics. Although I blogged every day, I'm afraid I went a little bit off piste and didn't do very well on tackling the list. 

Secondly, I wondered if it would make a difference to my visitor numbers. At first I was shocked to discover I had more visitors in October when I blogged just four times. It turned out I had a massive spike of thousands of visitors on the 2nd of October, when I was completely off the grid up a mountain. There doesn't seem to be a particular reason for this. I had a spam attack from overseas and a load of duff backlink attempts, but that was later in the month. Once I factor that out, there's been a steady flow of traffic. The most visited individual post was the one on Stockport and the planning issues coming down on us all soon. I'm pleased about that. I would have been disappointed if my biggest draw was Blackburn Rovers. 

My excuse for not getting round to all of them was some are linked to a writing project that I'm not ready to spill just yet and that in turn has also meant I haven't read many books this month. There were also some events to comment on, the small matter of a US election, the scrapping of Pacers and a few media and events things I was doing. And the outrage of Luke Unabomber and Instagram.

So here are the subjects I didn't get round to writing a blog on. I'll try and get through them, as I know what I need to say.

• Academic writing v journalism
• 24 Hour News
• The Strong Personalities Group
• Family
• Friends
• All Those Things That Seemed So Important
• Aesthetics
• Devolution and Democracy
• Living with medical conditions
• Welsh Nationalism
• Some book reviews
• Folk horror
• Kinder Scout
• Cumberland

What's this? Luke's off Insta

Glenn Kitson made this 

I'm fairly new to Instagram, and as I've said before it's been a comfortable balm during this lockdown year. It's not the place for self-defeating arguments, or pointless sharing of angry memes, but generally it's for nice things and cultural gems. One of the most prolific punters-out of all those nuggets of goodness has been Luke Unabomber, one of the heroes of Manchester's music scene and a proper food innovator as well. What he has done with Volta, Refuge, Freight Island and Hatch has been game changing for the city. His musical passion is unquestionable. But it's his homespun advice and his personal wellbeing journey that has made him the first person to go to on his Instragram lately. My youngest son Elliot is inspired by all of the above. Possibly his last post was a call to arms on self-preservation - just turn up, he said, amongst many other things, fight the demons.

I don't know him personally. I obviously know who he is, and he was around and about in the 80s with some kids I knew from Sheffield who'd moved to Manchester. And obviously what he's done makes him a public figure of sorts. 

But last week I noticed that he'd disappeared off Insta. I checked in with a mate of his that all was well, only to learn his account has been suspended. I'm assuming for the language. I hope this isn't permanent. I've written to Instagram expressing my displeasure. When I see the absolute dingbats and actual nazis who are still on Facebook and Instagram, and yet they go after someone who only brings happiness and wisdom, I despair.

So farewell then, Pacer trains

A few weeks ago I was taking one of my rare trips into work in Manchester and this sleek, long, clean modern and quiet new train arrived  grandly into my local terminus, Rose Hill. The coronavirus and the lockdown has reduced commuting by rail into a real minority pursuit. As it glided into the station I took a quick photo, then scanned the length of this beautiful feat of engineering that I'd only ever seen on other Northern routes. I was looking for the green bike sign, so I could tie up by bike safely while I took my seat. As it happened there wasn't one, oh horror of horrors. I had to stand up with it for the half hour journey in the doorways, guessing which side it would open on as passengers tried to squeeze past me. I needn't have worried. Our branch line has also had a temporary closure imposed on it due to the need to train up new staff on these new trains. Just as there was hardy anyone on our platform, the few people who did get on at the other stations could easily get on board. But in that fleeting moment I had to check myself and pause before being dragged into the weeds of disappointment. I think I can live with not cycling when things return to normal, I'll get over it.

Let me say it as clearly as I can. I am so pleased that Northern Trains have finally run the last Pacer train on their network. I suppose we're supposed to feel grateful, but it's not gratitude that I feel but latent anger and a bit of relief. Over the years they've been too hot in summer, freezing in winter, wet inside when it rains, and in normal times far too small to cope with the capacity on our line.  The seating format was hideous. They were noisy, and dangerous. I mentioned all of this in one of the most popular posts this blog has ever run, a rant about the damned things from 2017, where I included a picture of one of the ugly units left to rot on a siding in Iran. I feel not a smidgen of nostalgia for them; they were neither quaint, nor utilitarian, just a monstrous assault on our human rights.

I know too that we won't always have these gorgeous new trains, for the most part the route will be serviced by refurbished Sprinters which are grotty and noisy and hard to board it you have mobility issues. But they are still better than the Pacer.

I find it quite hard to imagine the new normal, or life in a big city and the whole experience of commuting from our little station on the edge of the Peak District. It will never be the same again, I'm sure of that. But there will also be many things that are better, starting with our trains.

Lunch of the month for July/August/November

Last year I came up with a new wheeze for this blog, a social media tally through a month of good lunches I'd had in Manchester, with a more expressive flourish at the end of the month to celebrate the best. 

Suffice to say I haven't updated it since March. At a push I could have done one in July, as we celebrated my birthday at Rudy's Neopolitan Pizza in Ancoats, with an absolutely phenomenal Calabrese, and then did another lunch at a Vietnamese place called Nam in the same square in Ancoats, and a Eat Out to Help Out stop off in August at Hanoi75 in Hatch. Me and Neil also celebrated the first recording of Music Therapy with a trip to Lily's in Ashton for a sizzler. That's four Manchester lunches out since, an Ashton lunch, and then on those rare days I went into work I got a takeout katsu curry from Nudo one day, and a Lahmacun (Turkish pizza) from Venus on another. All of these were absolutely brilliant. 

However, the best of them all was today when I nipped out of the office, where I'd been for an essential meeting, for lunch with our Joe at this absolute cracking little place in Hulme called Buzzrocks. Joe had chicken and I had saltfish. Typically for a Caribbean food outlet both came with rice and peas and an absolutely gorgeous gravy. I liked the friendly service and the smells and genuine love of the food from the staff as soon as I walked in. It's one of those places where I'd loved to have spent more time chatting to them about the food, and generally coming over all Phil Rosenthal, but we had to grab and go. 

So, this feature is back in business. Come what may, I will support our amazing food businesses, I will eat out and try new things. 

Gary Lineker's brilliant, heartfelt tribute to Diego Maradona

I know he's the scourge of a certain section of the male population due to his stance on Brexit (and not being a dick) but this was a reminder of what a good broadcaster Gary Lineker is. I'm pleased he's not just a pundit, but he gets the respect of the other players because of all he achieved in the game. It's brought back home too what a player he was. My generation's greatest international tournaments were Mexico 86 and Italia 90. England's performances were totally enhanced by Lineker's input. He was a deadly striker and a superb ambassador for the game at the time. I adored him.

I haven't always though. In the days when my team was frequently last on Match of the Day, as opposed to next to last on the Football League Show on Channel 5, I thought they were phoning it in. I don't see as much of him now for obvious reasons, but I think he's got much better as a broadcaster, as you'd expect, and as the media age has changed. He bounces off Ian Wright Jermain Jenas and Alan Shearer far better than he ever did with the far too cosy Mark Lawrenson and Alan Hansen. I'm not a Danny Murphy fan.

I wanted to mark the passing of a legend this week. But plenty of others can have their say far better than I could on Diego Maradona, over the last few days. He was an absolute icon and one of the greatest players in my lifetime, I still think Cruyff was the greatest ever, but it's churlish to mention that. Sometimes it's hard to find the appropriate words too, but I'm glad that Gary Lineker did.

I don't know - the power of three little words

It's been the People's Powerhouse conference this week. Once again, I was asked to play a small part in hosting short Lightening Talk presentations from 8 different people. As ever it was inspiring and troubling in equal measure. Sometimes it's heartbreaking to listen to the stoic stories of people who do so much for others, such as refugees, with so little resource, and seemingly up against a hostile system. But they carry on, they find the money, they work harder, and they make connections at events like this. 

It's great too that entrepreneurs and community activists get to share the same space. One of the talks was by a young woman called Emma who has a jewellery brand Aster and Lion with many of the same values that I wrote about yesterday. 

I also heard Nazir Afzal speak again and he always inspires. He was posing the question as to whether the North should take the knee. It was followed by powerful testimony from people who encounter everyday racism. It's just not good enough is it? We all have to play our part as allies wherever we can. Yesterday he was in conversation with Kim Leadbeater (Chair of More in Common and Ambassador for the Jo Cox Foundation) and the sister of Jo Cox. Again, it was an emotional and inspiring discussion. How do we better get along with one another in such a hateful and divided world? To hear them both speak the language of peace love and understanding was humbling. And I have to conclude that having your own echo chamber extends way beyond who you follow and block on Twitter.

I come away from these events with plenty of ideas and good intentions. But there was a phrase used yesterday by Nazir that really struck home. Not enough people say "I don't know". Leadership sometimes requires humility, and more importantly, the ability to listen. I liked for instance how the Metro Mayors were invited to sit in and listen to ideas and encounters, like the one I hosted. 

Edna Robinson, chair of the People's Powerhouse, is without doubt one of the most inspiring people I've had the pleasure of working with. The origin of the movement was a reaction to a time when the Northern Powerhouse was a limp slogan being delivered from the top down. And it's as relevant today as the government have disgracefully cut the international development commitment and made half hearted reviews and pledges on a series of Red Wall infrastructure schemes. Today was a rare ray of hope and a true joy to be involved. Next year they even said I can DJ. It'll be an honour.