The Northern Line Tube train going into central London from Balham was packed with jolly middle-class people, all of them well (though casually) dressed. It was the day after the inauguration of Donald Trump and they were on their way to Green Park to join tens of thousands the world over in a huge exercise in virtue signalling.
These people wanted Planet Earth to know that they loathed Trump and all his works – his misogyny, his locker-room talk, his unbelievable dishonesty, and his nasty finger gestures. They reminded me rather of the cheerfully defiant mood among the anti-war marchers 15 years ago. As I swayed between the doors clutching the central pole, a young woman got up and offered me her seat, which I accepted. I knew better, though, than to say: “Thank you, my dear.”
