I intensely disliked Thatcher. Perhaps it's unfair to judge her based on interviews, but she came across so badly – philistine, patronising and pretentious (oh god, that ridiculous accent). I preferred Edward Heath. Peter Ustinov recalled an evening he spent with Heath during which they did nothing but talk about art, music and literature. Heath showed him his antiques and rare books and never once mentioned politics. "Now that," said Ustinov, "is the kind of politician I trust." In other words, broad-minded and non-fanatical, a man with hidden depths.
I remember my grandfather (born 1922) saying that he'd never seen the people of this country change so much as they did under Thatcher. I grew up in Essex in the 1980s, the child of a traveling salesman, so I saw some of the worst products of that system. Economically, it works. It certainly generates more wealth than socialism. But that comes at a price. The kinds of people who thrive in a cut-throat, de-regulated economy are often the worst. You know, people who set up a firm installing windows, use the cheapest materials they can find, then fold up the business six months down the line. That winter, when the handles begin snapping off and the windows let in the cold, they're sunning themselves on an Italian beach.
The things I really care about – kindness, manners, art, beauty, etc – were not only irrelevant to a Thatcherite, they were obstacles. The true Thatcherite would bulldoze Durham Cathedral and replace it with a McDonalds if he could turn a profit. As for things like kindness, good manners, a sense of duty, etc, you must be joking. Ruthless aggression is what you need. The Sun newspaper was the perfect symbol of '80s Thatcherism – ignorant, crude, ugly, brash and foul.