When calls for advertising to mirror a nation’s ethnic makeup are framed as demands for fairness, they can also conceal a darker logic: the impulse to claim public visibility as a birthright. Representation matters, but insisting that public spaces always reflect a majority group’s image frequently masks entitlement, fear, and a desire to preserve cultural dominance. That insistence reduces complex social life to a zero sum contest over visibility, where one group’s presence is framed as another’s loss. The consequence is predictable: anxiety hardens into resentment, and resentment morphs into political pressure to restrict who is seen and who belongs. This is not a debate about marketing mechanics or campaign efficiency; it is a conversation about how visibility is weaponised to enforce belonging and exclusion. If we are serious about inclusion, we must recognise the difference between promoting diverse visibility and validating claims rooted in prejudice. A healthier civic imagination accepts that public representation will be partial, contested, and evolving and resists the temptation to equate symbolic presence with moral priority.

I’ve spent two years collaborating with artificial intelligences that lie, flatter, hallucinate, and occasionally gaslight me—yet I still consider them indispensable. This is how I have found how to get the best out of my AI companions and work around their concrete thinking minds.

When the shadow justice secretary Robert Jenrick made his remarks about Handsworth they were ignorant rather than malignant and demonstrated a failure to understand basic human behaviour; they were disrespectful and intimidating, revealing a blinkered view that obscures the many similarities Handsworth shares with neighbouring white‑majority areas.

In the world of space exploration, Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin are renowned, yet Michael Collins, the third Apollo 11 astronaut, represents profound solitude. While Armstrong and Aldrin made history on the moon, Collins orbited in Columbia, isolated for 21 hours. Each pass behind the moon severed his communication with Earth, leaving him in silence. Collins envisioned a world seen from space—without borders, rich in potential for harmony. His vision remains a timeless call for unity. As we remember Collins, we are inspired to carry forth his dream of a united future. Rest in peace, Michael Collins.