As the mother of two young adults (22 and 20), I am tentatively enjoying some early fruit of my parental labours. My daughter has just graduated with a first from Manchester (shameless mum-brag, guilty as charged), and my son is gainfully employed over the summer holidays in a job that not only gets him out of the house but also keeps him fit and fed (he’s a busser in a restaurant).
But the news last week that our glorious leader, Sir Keir Starmer, has followed through on his electoral threat to lower the voting age to 16 has rather dampened my mood. It is, quite simply, the height of idiocy. As any Year 11 teacher will tell you, most 16-year-olds aren’t fit to tuck their own shirt in, let alone participate in the democratic process.
My two were no exception. While always delightful (to me, at least), they have, if I’m honest, only relatively recently become fully sentient humans in the sense that they know how to exercise sound judgement and say no to things or people that aren’t in their best interests.
The reason for this has nothing – really – to do with me, although I like to think I may have played a small part by guiding them in the right direction. It’s just that they now have fully developed frontal temporal lobes – aka reached the age of reason.
Human brains are incredibly powerful – but the quid pro quo is that they take a very long time to reach maturity.
The prefrontal cortex – ie, the part of the brain involved in so-called ‘executive’ functions, including modulating emotions and determining risk – doesn’t come on stream until our late teens/early 20s.
Until then, we are physiologically incapable of fully understanding the world around us.
That is why the age of ‘majority’ was, until 1969 when it was lowered to 18, always set at 21.
Our predecessors may not have understood the biology or the neuroscience, but they certainly knew the score.
‘As any Year 11 teacher will tell you, most 16-year-olds aren’t fit to tuck their own shirt in, let alone participate in the democratic process,’ says Sarah Vine
It’s also why society imposes age limits on certain high-risk, adult behaviours such as gambling, viewing violent or pornographic content, having access to credit and – until now – exercising your democratic vote.
Ignoring those limits is a highly irresponsible – and dangerous – game. The most obvious example is porn. Thanks to successive governments’ shameless failure to address the scourge of hardcore internet porn, several generations of children have been raised on a diet of violent, misogynistic filth that has poisoned the wellspring of youth and has serious real-life consequences, especially for women and girls.
We now see embedded social behaviours that are a direct consequence of exposing immature brains to such toxic stimuli. Indeed, countless studies show that these types of negative experiences during development can significantly shape the formation of the prefrontal cortex, leading to serious conditions such as schizophrenia and bipolar disorder.
Heavy use of cannabis – endemic among school-age children – is also complicit in this, which explains why so many violent young male offenders are often also heavy porn and/or drug users.
I’m sure there are some cogent, thoughtful 16-year-olds out there. But I’ve never met one.
Even I, who was embarrassingly square as a teenager, was a pain in the neck at that age. It’s just the nature of the beast: a bag of raging hormones attached to a half-formed brain.
Which is why Sir Keir Starmer’s announcement is so depressing. He knows all this and yet is exploiting it for his own naked gain.
He is fully aware that most 16 and 17-year-olds have a one-dimensional, limited understanding of politics and are easily swayed by peer pressure and emotional propaganda – and he’s counting on this to play in his favour.
What’s the betting he promises to legalise cannabis ahead of the next election to get them all to vote for him? I’d put good money on it.
What a truly mendacious, ruthless man he is turning out to be.
As Labour lurch from one error of judgement to another, I’m starting to think Starmer’s fanboy approach to the EU may not be such a bad idea. If he makes us rejoin and restores freedom of movement, it will make it easier to emigrate once he and his cronies have finished ruining this country.
Georgie Robertson, 32 – daughter of the novelist Kathy Lette
I would genuinely love to know how champagne Corbynista Georgie Robertson, 32 – daughter of the novelist Kathy Lette – explains her support of Palestine Action (she has been volunteering for the group as it fights being proscribed by the Government).
As a party-loving young woman (she made her ‘society’ debut wearing a £6,000 dress at the Crillon Ball in Paris, left, and regularly attends glittering social occasions with her celebrity friends), you’d have thought she might be more sympathetic to the fate of Gal Abdush, Shani Louk, Naama Levy or any of the other fun-loving women and young girls who were gang-raped, tortured and mutilated by Hamas on October 7.
Especially since she once pledged ‘to organise against the patriarchy and all other forms of aggression’. How? By cheerleading for an organisation that supports and is supported by an oppressive misogynist regime? Strange logic there, if you ask me.
Talking of feral 16-year-olds, I was on a train the other day, having a perfectly nice time alongside my fellow passengers, when a group of six or seven teenagers, mostly male, got on board. Within moments they were sprawled on seats with their legs wide open, scratching their crotches, playing obnoxious rap music, swearing at each other and conducting loud phone conversations on speakerphone. I very nearly said something. But then I remembered that I have a family who might not appreciate me getting myself stabbed and thought better of it. That’s the reality of Britain today, isn’t it? Put up and shut up.
President Trump’s doctor has said that the bruising on his hands is a result of ‘frequent handshaking’. Is that a euphemism?
I’m sure that last night’s Channel 5 documentary Lip-Reading The Royals was a ratings success. From Queen Camilla’s worries about the feathers on her hat at her wedding to the romantic exchanges between the Prince and Princess of Wales, it’s catnip for Royal watchers. It’s also a reminder of how – as the couple caught on kiss-cam at a Coldplay concert discovered – there is no such thing as privacy any more.
Meghan ‘Sussex’ has launched her own brand of lady petrol (aka rosé) – and the big surprise, apart from the hefty price tag of $30 (£22), is that it’s 14.5 per cent proof. Two glasses of that and I’d be on the floor. Maybe that’s what it takes to get through an evening with sullen Harry these days.
Like most of the South East of England yesterday, I woke up to torrential rain. Finally, some civilised summer weather!
