Swift Press – serie

BOOK OF THE YEAR in The Times, the Sunday Times and the Financial TimesHave you heard that language is violence and that science is sexist? Or been told that being obese is healthy, that there is no such thing as biological sex, or that only white people can be racist? Are you confused by these ideas, and do you wonder how they have managed so quickly to challenge the very logic of Western society?Helen Pluckrose and James Lindsay document the evolution of the dogma behind these ideas, from its origins in French postmodernism to its refinement within activist academic fields. Today this dogma is recognisable as much by its effects, such as cancel culture and social-media pile-ons, as by its assertions, which are all too often taken as read: knowledge is a social construct; science and reason are tools of oppression; all human interactions are sites of oppressive power play; and language is dangerous. As they warn, the unchecked proliferation of these beliefs present a threat to liberal democracy.While acknowledging the need to challenge the complacency of those who think a just society has been fully achieved, Pluckrose and Lindsay break down how often-radical activist scholarship does far more harm than good, not least to those marginalised communities it claims to champion.

Diversity, equity and inclusion programmes have the admirable goal of creating a welcoming environment for everyone. Increasingly, however, people are realising that the way they are commonly practised isn’t simply an extension of past civil rights movements. Instead, they’re often intertwined with Critical Social Justice ideology, which imposes its principles and punishes any disagreement.Mild questions about Critical Social Justice claims – like all white people being racists or all minorities being oppressed, or sex differences having no biological basis – are met with curt commands by DEI trainers and HR officers: ‘Educate yourself,’ ‘Do the work,’ ‘Listen and learn.’ Advancements at work and school often depend on agreeing with these beliefs. Critical Social Justice ideology poses a real threat to rights and democracy, yet speaking out risks social backlash. When choosing between compliance and ethical opposition, what’s the right path?Based on the author’s years of experience studying, exposing and fighting Critical Social Justice ideology and advising people and organisations struggling with it, The Counterweight Handbook is designed to help people address Critical Social Justice problems in the most ethical and effective way possible.

'A thoughtful, serious and well-written book that tackles an immensely important subject' - ObserverHow many avoidable deaths are there in the NHS every week?150.What figure should we aim for?Zero.The NHS is the pride of Britain. It’s an army of highly skilled and talented healthcare professionals, armed with the most cutting-edge therapies and medicines, and a budget bigger than the GDP of most countries in the world.Yet avoidable failures are common. And the result is tragic deaths up and down the country every day.Jeremy Hunt, the longest-serving Health Secretary in history, knows exactly what the cost is. In the letters he received from bereaved family members, he was constantly confronted by the heart-breaking reality of slip-ups and mistakes.There is increasing conflict between public pride in the NHS and the exhausted daily reality for many doctors and nurses, now experiencing burnout in record numbers. Waiting lists are up, staffing numbers inadequate, and all the while an ageing population and medical advances increase both demand and expectations. With pressures like these, is it surprising that mistakes start to creep in?This great British institution is crying out for renewal. In Zero, taking the broadest approach, thinking through everything from staffing to technology, budgets to culture, Hunt presents a manifesto for that renewal.Mistakes happen. But nobody deserves to become a statistic in an NHS hospital. That’s why we need to aim for zero.

We did not stay in our houses. Not in the way our grandmothers had, or our mothers. We went out a little more and veiled ourselves a little less. Some of us longed for more learning and dreamed about leaving home to get it. The elders shook their heads and cautioned: too much education could ruin a girl’s future.To be a Muslim girl in the Sri Lanka of the 50s and 60s was to have to stay inside once you hit puberty; where even a glimpse of flesh was forbidden; and where things were done the way they’d always been done.But Yasmin Azad’s family is full of love, humour and larger-than-life characters, despite the strictures half of them were under. And almost despite himself, Yasmin’s father allows her an education – an education that would open the whole world to her, even as it risked closing her off from those she was closest to.An extraordinary portrait of a time and a community in the midst of profound change, Stay, Daughter vividly evokes a now-vanished world, but its central clash – that of tradition and modernity – is one that will always be with us.