I disagreed with Ann Widdecombe on almost everything. Most fundamentally, I profoundly opposed her views anti the rights of LGBT+ people, which I regarded as illiberal and deeply hurtful.

Yet politics is rarely as simple as agreement and disagreement.

I first interacted with Ann Widdecombe twenty years ago when she was a Tory MP and I was a local radio reporter in the Midlands and I interviewed her down the line about an event she was due to be attending at Coventry Cathedral. More recently, I had the pleasure (and, I’ll admit, slight dread) of debating her live on GB News this past April. On neither occasion did we see the world through the same political lens, but I respected her who someone who held her values and principles deeply (as I do mine).

She held strong views and expressed them forcefully, but it was rarely if ever personal. We argued our respective cases and then moved on as human beings. There is a lesson in that, one which seek to give voice to in the podcast I co-host (with a former Tory advisor), Political Frenemies, where we debate robustly but remain friends at the end. That is how our politics should always be.

As I said on GB News earlier today, Ann Widdecombe was that rare and very special thing in politics: authentic. Utterly herself. She said what she meant, and she meant what she said. Whether you agreed with her or not, there was never any doubt that she believed every word. No ducking and weaving needed, like other politicians, to get through the day or the latest media interview.

At a time when our politics can feel increasingly performative, over-managed and tribal, that authenticity stood out. I respected it, even when I fundamentally rejected the conclusions to which it led her. To think that her life has allegedly been taken by another is beyond horrifying. It is a tragedy that transcends politics and demands our shared humanity.

My thoughts and prayers are with Ann Widdecombe’s family, her many friends and all those mourning her.

Rest in power.

Four years on, still fighting for Mum

Yesterday marked four years since my beloved mum, Jackie, died, just two days after waiting eleven agonising hours for an ambulance following a fall at home. Those long hours, watching the person I loved most in the world, in pain and without dignity while desperately waiting for help, will stay with me forever.

Since then, I’ve tried to channel grief into purpose. Whether through my writing, media appearances, campaigning with Just Treatment or speaking to politicians, I’ve sought to make the case for a better funded (up to the European average), genuinely public NHS that is there for everyone when they need it most.

No family should have to endure what ours did. No patient should wonder whether help is ever going to come.

I campaign not out of bitterness, but out of love. I do it in my dear mum’s memory, and in the hope that one day no other family will have to tell a story like ours.

Come on, England!

I’ll be cheering England on in Wednesday’s World Cup semi-final with Argentina, even though I’m not really a football man.

Moments like these bring people together and give the country something to smile about.

Good luck to the Three Lions – I’ll be hoping they can take one more step towards glory.

* Mathew Hulbert is a former Councillor, is a regular commentator on TV and Radio, and is Co-Host of the Political Frenemies podcast.