Helen Lewis

A witty diary column examines Elon Musk’s continuing controversies, especially Grok’s ability to create sexualized images of real people, while mocking the lack of consequences for him. It then reflects on The Traitors as a revealing portrait of class, status and authoritarian dynamics in Britain; praises political commentary by Patrick Maguire; recommends detective fiction and related works; and contrasts the dullness of a Netflix documentary about The New Yorker with the extravagant history of Condé Nast magazines.

The open web has deteriorated from a useful source of information into a landscape dominated by intrusive advertising, SEO manipulation, unreliable AI summaries and deepfakes, undermining traffic to publishers. This decline has encouraged a return to books, including Julie Brown’s investigation of Jeffrey Epstein, which highlights both Epstein’s abuse and the failures of prosecutors and institutions to hold him accountable. Brown’s work also illustrates the financial and editorial pressures threatening investigative journalism, while influencers profit from the Epstein-files controversy. Lewis argues that smartphones may be reducing conventional reading, but audiobooks remain compatible with commuting, chores and other activities.

The writer reflects on leaving the New Statesman and Jason Cowley’s editorship before examining the stark differences between British and American political media during the 2024 US election. Reporting from Pennsylvania exposed the scale of US campaign spending, the saturation of swing states with political advertising and the growing influence of cryptocurrency donors. The column argues that Trump’s crypto ventures and appearances on “bro podcasts” are part of a wider media ecosystem promoting speculative finance, dubious health products, gambling and distrust of authority to young men. It contrasts this polarised environment with what the writer sees as Britain’s more restrained political culture and concludes by defending first-hand journalism as an antidote to social media’s stream of shallow opinions.

Helen Lewis looks back nostalgically at her years at the New Statesman, recalling its eclectic editorial output, talented former colleagues and memorable guest editors including Grayson Perry, Hugh Grant and Russell Brand. She reflects on the magazine’s revival during the austerity era, criticizes the Conservative-led period for increasing inequality and division, and contrasts the theatricality of US politics—particularly Ron DeSantis’s Florida campaigns—with the comparatively restrained style of British politics. The piece concludes that the New Statesman has emerged stronger after a decade in which it was often underestimated.

Helen Lewis reflects humorously on Dominic Cummings’s political downfall, presenting it as the consequence of hubris, poor judgment and alienating Conservative colleagues. She revisits Rory Stewart’s early warnings that schools and large gatherings should be closed to control Covid-19, arguing that dismissive commentators and non-specialist experts were wrong. The column also critiques Boris Johnson’s cultivated classical image, recommends television watched during lockdown, and recounts eccentric details about historical figures and surprising overlaps in their lifetimes.

A review of Hilary Mantel's journalism collection, Mantel Pieces, argues that her unsparing, witty criticism offers a necessary antidote to the era's preference for “smarm” and compulsory positivity. The collection's strongest essays focus on women, bodies, illness, sexuality, religion and historical power, while Mantel's writing on male subjects is judged less animated. Her outsider status, independence from social media and refusal to soften her judgments are presented as sources of critical strength, even as the declining economics of magazine criticism increasingly discourage writers from making enemies.

Helen Lewis criticizes Dominic Cummings’s handling of the Durham lockdown controversy as a form of political gaslighting, arguing that the manipulation of public perception is psychologically and democratically damaging. She questions the mythology surrounding Cummings’s supposed brilliance, reflects ruefully on publishing her book Difficult Women during the pandemic, and describes how it connected Kezia Dugdale with pioneering lesbian MP Maureen Colquhoun. Lewis also discusses moving to The Atlantic and adapting to American English, before considering how social tolerance can expand in some areas while becoming more polarized across political divisions.

Tom Stoppard’s Leopoldstadt draws directly on his experience as a Jewish refugee from Nazism, making the play inseparable from its author’s biography. Spanning Austrian Jewish family life from 1900 to 1955, the production follows assimilation, persecution, survival and the loss of historical identity. The review praises Patrick Marber’s direction, Adrian Scarborough’s performance and the play’s emotional force, while criticizing its oversized cast, heavy exposition and unimaginative historical projections. Its most powerful moments arise from Stoppard’s family history, especially a scar that survives as evidence of his doctor father and the conflict between gratitude to England and the burden of Holocaust memory.

Lucy Kirkwood’s historical play The Welkin follows a jury of 12 women in 1759 who must determine whether convicted murderer Sally Poppy is pregnant and therefore should escape execution. The production explores women’s bodies, childbirth, domestic labor, sexual violence and the ways laws and medical knowledge shaped by men fail women. Helen Lewis praises the play’s feminist ambition, female-centered ensemble and performances—especially those by Ria Zmitrowicz, Maxine Peake and Cecilia Noble—but finds its opening structure disorienting, some plot twists melodramatic and its partial use of modern elements peculiar. The play ultimately suggests that a female-led social order can reproduce hierarchy and violence while still placing women’s experiences at the center.

Helen Lewis argues that a hung parliament would be preferable to a Conservative or Labour majority because neither Boris Johnson nor Jeremy Corbyn deserves to win. She criticizes Johnson’s broken Brexit promise, ideological inconsistency and plans to pursue Brexit despite its likely economic costs, while condemning Labour’s failure to address antisemitism, weak shadow cabinet and unclear policies. She also criticizes both parties for undermining trust in the mainstream media.

Ben Weatherill’s play Jellyfish follows Kelly, a 27-year-old woman with Down’s syndrome who wants to explore sex and relationships, while her protective mother questions whether her boyfriend Neil is exploiting her. The review praises Sarah Gordy’s performance and the National Theatre’s relaxed, disability-friendly staging, while highlighting the play’s examination of consent, sexuality, adulthood, independence and the infantilisation of disabled people. It also notes the difficult realities of caregiving, prejudice and disability, but argues that the production could have dissected society’s attitudes more deeply.

Alice Birch’s [BLANK], staged at the Donmar Warehouse and directed by Maria Aberg, is praised for its fragmented depiction of a woman’s encounters with poverty, sex work, prison and death, as well as for skewering affluent feminist benevolence. The review argues that the play confronts rather than avoids the ethical discomfort of a successful writer depicting marginalized women. Duncan Macmillan’s Lungs at the Old Vic receives a much cooler response: although its minimalist production and dialogue explore the hypocrisy of progressive people debating parenthood amid climate anxiety, the play is judged overlong, emotionally unearned and unable to sustain its central relationship.

Alain de Botton and the School of Life propose creating “better porn” that combines sexual excitement with virtues such as wit, kindness, intelligence and hard work. The piece responds skeptically and humorously, questioning the idea while outlining its criticism of conventional pornography as exploitative and disconnected from ethical life.