There are moments in politics when symbolism matters as much as substance, when tone, posture and moral clarity speak louder than any communique or briefing note.

This morning should have been one of those moments. Following Donald Trump’s latest intervention over Greenland – part territorial fantasy, part geopolitical bullying – Britain was presented with a rare opportunity. A chance for a UK Prime Minister to look a reckless American President in the eye and say: no. Calmly. Firmly. Clearly. In defence of international law, allied sovereignty, and basic democratic norms.

What many of us hoped do was a Love Actually moment: Hugh Grant’s fictional Prime Minister, politely but unmistakably calling out American overreach and reminding the world that friendship does not require submission. What we got instead was Mr Bean.

Keir Starmer’s emergency press conference this morning was not incompetent. It was not chaotic. It was not aggressive. It was, in fact, something far worse: timid, earnest, managerial, lawyerly – and utterly devoid of the moral authority the moment demanded.

Yes, the Prime Minister stressed the importance of diplomacy. Yes, he reaffirmed that Greenland’s future lies with its people and Denmark. Yes, he warned that trade wars harm working people. All of that is true. All of it is safe. All of it could have been said in a written statement.

What was missing was leadership.

Let’s be clear about the context. Donald Trump is once again floating the idea of coercing allies-economically and politically-in pursuit of a ludicrous claim over territory that is not America’s to take.

This is not normal behaviour. It is not “robust negotiation.”. It is the language of power politics that liberals have spent decades resisting because we know exactly where it leads.

And yet Britain’s response has been to lower its voice, soften its language, and reassure everyone – Washington most of all – that we remain a good ally. Downing Street will argue, as it always does, that it’s in the UK’s national interest to remain on friendly terms with the United States, that diplomacy requires restraint, that megaphone diplomacy is counter-productive.

But here is the question that the press conference did not answer – and which liberals must keep asking: What would Trump actually have to do for this British Prime Minister to finally speak truth to power. Threaten tariffs? He’s done that. Undermine allies? Already happening. Disregard sovereignty? That’s the point of this whole episode. If this doesn’t warrant a firmer response, what on earth does?!

There is a deeper problem here than one press conference, the now familiar instinct of this government to manage rather than lead; to triangulate rather than articulate; to confuse caution with wisdom. This is politics as risk management, not moral judgement.

And liberals should be worried, because liberalism is not just about avoiding conflict. It is about defending rules, institutions, and smaller nations from the whims of the powerful. It is about saying that might does not make right-even when the might belongs to your closest ally.

The irony is that speaking plainly to Trump would not weaken the UK-US relationship. It would strengthen it. History shows us that Trump respects firmness far more than flattery, clarity more than equivocation. He does not mistake politeness for partnership-he mistakes it for permission.

This was a chance for Britain to stand alongside Denmark, alongside Europe, alongside the basic principle that that borders are not bargaining chips. Instead, we opted for the comfort of process and platitudes.

No one was asking for a rant. No one wanted performative outrage. But a line – a clear, unambiguous line – would have mattered. It would have said that Britain understands the stakes of this moment, and that we still believe leadership involves more than careful wording.

In Love Actually, the Prime Minister’s speech works not because it is aggressive, but because it is honest. It names the behaviour. It draws a boundary. It reminds both countries what friendship actually means.

This morning, Starmer did neither. He didn’t offend anyone – but he didn’t inspire anyone either. And in an era when democracy, international law and liberal values are being tested daily, that is not neutrality, it is abdication.

The question now is simple, and if won’t go away: if this government won’t find its voice now – when will it ever?

Should Liberals support a social media ban for under 16s?

The idea of banning under 16s from social media is gaining traction – and for liberals, it presents an uncomfortable but necessary question.

On one hand, the concerns are real. There is growing evidence linking social media use among children to anxiety, poor mental health, sleep disruption and distorted body image. Parents and guardians feel outmatched, schools are struggling and tech companies continue to insist that their platforms are ‘safe’ while designing them to maximise engagement at almost any cost.

If liberalism is about human flourishing, we cannot simply shrug and look away.

And yet, a blanket ban should make liberals deeply uneasy. Such a prohibition would represent a significant state extension of State power into private life, raising serious questions about enforcement and surveillance. Age-verification systems risk normalising intrusive data collection by companies that have already demonstrated that they cannot be fully trusted. There is also the danger that bans simply drive young people into less regulated, even more harmful online spaces.

Liberals should also resist the temptation to infantilise teenagers. Many young people use social media creatively, politically, and socially-to organise, to learn, and to find community. For some, particularly LGBT+ young people or those isolated offline, online spaces can be and are lifelines. And, after all, in a move I support, this government is introducing votes at 16.

Are ministers really saying that a teenager can vote at sixteen, but not look at social media at fifteen?

But defending young people’s agency does not necessarily mean defending the status quo. This debate is ultimately about power. Social media platforms are not neutral public squares; they are engineered environments designed to monetise attention and emotion. Children are not just users – they become products.

Liberals should therefore focus less on headline-grabbing bans and more on confronting the business models causing the harm: tougher regulation of algorithms, strict limits on data collection, meaningful enforcement of existing age rules, and design standards that prioritise well-being over profit.

So should liberals support a ban?

We should be sceptical of blunt prohibitions-but absolutely uncompromising in challenging the unregulated corporate power that made this debate unavoidable in the first place.

I Will Always Love You, Dolly: An Icon of Music and Kindness

Few cultural figures deserve the word icon more than Dolly Parton, who turns 80 years old today.

From Jolene to 9 to 5, from Coat of Many Colours to I Will Always Love You, her music has soundtracked decades of lives with wit, warmth and emotional truth.

But it’s her philanthropy that truly elevates her. Through the Imagination Library, Dolly has gifted millions of books to children all around the world, believing – rightly – that literacy is transformative.

In a world too often short on generosity and grace, Dolly reminds us that success means little unless it is shared. A legend not just of country music, but of kindness itself.

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