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A reflection on Denis Healey (1917 - 2015) in this piece from the NS archive from 1981.
Economic and social inequality is rising, threatening to eclipse even the levels of division seen in the “gilded age” of the 1920s.
In 2013, a local paper reported on a strange script chiselled into a stone that had baffled not only historians but US code-breakers for decades. The mystery was solved when Cooper stepped forward and said that he was the secret poet.
“Is there life on Mars?” seemed like an epoch-defining question.
The proportion of those on the smallest incomes participating in sport has reached a new low.
The imminent cuts to tax credits – given to four and a half million Britons to supplement low-paid work – expose the hollowness of Cameron's promise to help.
You vow to do yoga, read fiction, grow stuff – beards, vegetables – but it’s only talk. Before you can say “massive marrow”, you’re arguing on Twitter and shouting at the television.
Lynton Crosby is friendly to Labour only in the manner of a dingo putting a limping kangaroo out of its misery in the Australian Outback.
The app claims that “character is destiny”, and that we should be constantly judged based on our past interactions with others. But do we really believe that?
Jihadists have long operated in the Caucasus and they have been re-energised by the Syrian conflict.
The problem with automation isn’t technology. The problem is capitalism.
Healey, who has died aged 98, persuaded the public that he was a jolly and rather lovable character. That was not how his parliamentary colleagues saw him.
From Theresa May on immigration to Jeremy Hunt on tax credits, senior Conservatives are ruining the leadership's attempts to sell the party as occupying the "common ground".
Rather than merely winning again, the Conservatives are seeking to inflict permanent damage on the opposition.
Vladimir Putin’s military intervention is less about defeating Isis than about establishing himself as the ultimate counter-revolutionary leader.
Corbyn’s ideas may echo George Orwell’s – but they’d need Orwell’s Britain to work. It’s time Corbyn accepted the British as they are today.
Terence Trent D’Arby’s 1987 debut album sold a million copies in three days. The music press went mad for him. Where was there to go but down?
How the Russian leader keeps his grip on power.
The sceptical doubt that infuses Conrad’s work – particularly his last great novel, Victory – has to do with the human world, which he believed was moved by illusions.
Sahota’s Man Booker-shortlisted novel goes to places we would all rather not think about.
Our cultures show that we can select who we are and who we want to be – but can they also be misused?
Yanagihara’s Booker-shortlisted novel explores abuse but sheds little new light on her subject.
With his new book of popular science, Carlo Rovelli has struck gold.
History, which we learn about as a series of ideological abstractions, is lived concretely - in ordinary houses.
Britain’s portraits tell stories of subversion and obsession in a book which reveals something new on every page.
Begun in 1914 and premiered in 1925, Wozzeck has class struggle, poverty and mental health problems as its principal subjects.
Where Bob Dylan fits 45 words into a six-word line, Lennon could be sorcerously expansive, as John Lennon: Verbatim reminds us.
A “structured reality” show about pensioners in Bournemouth, plus Unforgotten.
Cary Fukunaga's latest film is fiercely loyal to the perspective of its young protagonist as he negotiates the horrors of war.
A snapshot of Kosovo.
The fridge has become, literally, unhinged. What now?
Doubtless Welby’s supporters will find such a description rude to the point of impiousness – but for those of us who live in an uncloistered world, the most significant indicators of his true nature lie first in his appearance.
It's time to take stock of rugby, and see what us football fans have learned.
This Canadian version of an old standard is a good substitute for dinner.
To be a woman in the public eye these days, or actually anyone who can operate a Twitter account, means to be subject to abuse. But support can come from unlikely places.
Chrissie Hynde has been accused of victim blaming. But her plight seems to me very much the plight of a female rock fan of her age.
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