My youthful ideals have not yet left me

People always say that you become more conservative as you get older; how youthful idealism calcifies into right wing insularity, paired with a penchant for golf jumpers, starting sentences with ‘back in my day’, and a suspicion of foreigners.

Bearing this in mind — would I wake up one morning with a wrinkly neck and an irrational preoccupation with immigration? — it seemed a good idea to get stuck in before middle age ate my ethics.