“What you see is what you get with me.”
Liz Truss has no hidden depths, and proud of it. Drop a stone in her and you’ll hear nothing but the faint thunk of pebble on pavement. There the stone will sit, having made neither ripple nor splash. Liz Truss is a moral and intellectual puddle. She’s the dialectical equivalent of a brick wall, countenance unchanged by facts, counterargument or the complete reconstitution of her own opinions and beliefs. Abolish the monarchy! Lavish the monarchy! Bring the Bank of England under control! Don’t even express an opinion on inflation: that’s a matter for the Importantly Independent Bank of England! Do nothing about the cost of living crisis! Do something about the cost of living crisis! LibDem! Tory! Remain! Leave! May! Johnson! Me!
Except it’s wrong to talk of “beliefs” with Liz Truss. She has no such thing. She is an ideological revolving door, attached to no buildings, all exit and no entrance. She barks about cheese and VAT, supremely uninterested in pretending she means or understands even half of what she’s saying. Liz Truss is the epitome and culmination of the Oxford PPE graduate, motivated not by the content or import of any argument, only by whether this is the argument that will get her a good grade. Then she can be happy again, like she was once, as a girl, just after getting her GCSE results, being told by the teacher how clever she is.
Running with an idea
Running commentary on: