Three minutes after ten, wherever I lay my hat is not an acceptable answer to the question

I'm about to ask you, where is home? Well done, Gary. Because it's a really interesting question.

I'd like to, I suppose, apologise in advance to all fellow anti-racists. I'm not as exercised by elements of this deportation story as a lot of

my natural allies are, because it seems to me that we're all missing the difference between

the principle and the practice. The principle, I'm afraid, is sound. The practice is obviously not.

If we learned anything from the windrush scandal,

it is that the checks and balances that you would expect to be in place before you were

subject to legal penalties don't get applied properly to, or didn't get applied properly

to people of the windrush generation.

So that's why there is profound cause for concern in the recent case, but it's clearly not.

And to be fair, I haven't heard anybody arguing this.

It's clearly not the case that none of the people aboard this plane deserve to stay here.

And the word I would use to illustrate the point that I'm trying to make is home.

And that's the bit that I think is most important and actually most human.

Because I still can't quite believe that having an Irish surname will in the course of my or my children's lifetime once again become grounds for very stupid, nasty, evil people

to manipulate non-stupid, nasty, evil people into looking at me askance, because I've got an

apostrophe in the middle of my surname, no matter that I was born in Derby.

The point is, oh, it's one of us, isn't it?

It's us and them.

If we gave a DNA test to everybody in the country, this notion of belonging or this issue of indigenousness

wouldn't apply at all. In fact, when I am king of the world, the first thing I'm going to do

is order a DNA test for every single individual on the planet. And I shall post them out

...