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Ann Widdecombe’s death should make Britain ask itself: what sort of political culture do we want? | Gaby Hinsliff

Dehumanising politicians is the first step towards justifying their elimination. It matters more than ever to keep putting the person back into the picture Ann Widdecombe was never one to hide from an argument. And she wasn’t afraid for...

Ann Widdecombe’s death should make Britain ask itself: what sort of political culture do we want? | Gaby Hinsliff
365 Summary

She scoffed at friends’ suggestions that she should get electric gates, as an elderly woman with a public profile living alone on Dartmoor, just as she dismissed concerns about her health at 78. Having lost friends in the Brighton hotel bombing that almost killed Margaret Thatcher, she wasn’t naive about security.

  • But she was forged in a different era: one before Jo Cox was murdered, when the greatest risk was to politicians identified as symbols of the state, rather than as the embodiment of an idea.
  • She posed happily for press photographs inside her retirement bungalow, including one available to anyone casually Googling that included the house’s distinctive name: Widdecombe’s Rest.

Editorial reading aid based only on information contained in this story and its identified source.

Dehumanising politicians is the first step towards justifying their elimination. It matters more than ever to keep putting the person back into the picture

Ann Widdecombe was never one to hide from an argument. And she wasn’t afraid for her safety either. She scoffed at friends’ suggestions that she should get electric gates, as an elderly woman with a public profile living alone on Dartmoor, just as she dismissed concerns about her health at 78.

Having lost friends in the Brighton hotel bombing that almost killed Margaret Thatcher, she wasn’t naive about security. But she was forged in a different era: one before Jo Cox was murdered, when the greatest risk was to politicians identified as symbols of the state, rather than as the embodiment of an idea. She posed happily for press photographs inside her retirement bungalow, including one available to anyone casually Googling that included the house’s distinctive name: Widdecombe’s Rest. She would have been so easy to find, had anyone gone looking. Perhaps she never really believed that anyone would.

Gaby Hinsliff is a Guardian columnist