Having been on this Newsquest gig for five years, I thought, to mark the momentous occasion, (or commiseration, as some prefer cream on the jam, and not vice versa), I would write what could be loosely described as a retrospective.

Having been a columnist for 20 years, upon commencement here I wasn’t completely green with my remit. It is however a different steamer of sturgeon to writing for monthly magazines due to the weekly frequency of release. The biggest challenge is coming to terms with the increased engagement, both good and bad, online and in print, from those who wish to support my views or take mortal umbrage. Still, I relish the opportunity to have some semblance of a voice, as many continue to have theirs silenced, and I enjoy writing about random topics, both diverse and perverse.

In the half decade, I have tackled Covid, new year’s resolutions, racism in football, zen, dreams, car journeys with the kids, feral hamsters, virtue signalling, Star Wars, boredom, car boot sales, grief, Cornwall, the 1980s, hospital radio, festivals and the circus, as well as everything in between.

It is a constant learning curve however, much like being a teacher or public servant in that respect due to the unpredictability of response. It can keep you awake at night or act as a sedative when you have written something of which you are proud. There have been mistakes, and you get to learn where the line is, although it could be argued that any writer, at any level, dips their toes over the threshold from time to time. I genuinely try to give a reasoned view, looking at both sides of the coin, despite consternation is some quarters.

I have noticed over time that folk have become harsher and more vitriolic if faced with any modicum of alternate opinion. Disagreement is encouraged in my book, although there has been occasion where those commenters have gone way, way over the line as they become gripped by the frenzy of cancel culture and see themselves as localised woke new radicals. They choose to spout their wrath, thankfully not in person, but from the comfort of their keyboards, as they sup a mug of own-brand peppermint tea and blame the world for their indubitable demons.

Certain topics should be avoided as I do not believe we, as a nation, are mature enough to talk about them, despite claims to the contrary: politics is always emotive, as is race, and to that list you can add any criticism of the health service or anything to do with football.

I have a live and let live outlook: work hard, play hard, but try not to impose your views overtly onto folk, and, if you do, use a light touch and an element of humour when discussing a topic that may seem, on the face of it, humourless. Even seemingly feelgood topics attract spleen: a couple of years ago I was fortunate enough to visit India to trace my grandmother's footprints. We visited the orphanage where she lived for a while, and we sponsored the nuns there to take a young girl off the street and away from the inevitable life of misery that awaited her. All in all, it cost a few hundred quid to change a life exponentially, and it proved good fodder, upon my return, for a column. Now, people undertake humbling work for charity, and what we did was miniscule in comparison, but instead of feeling the warm glow of having done a little good, there were many who commented that I was a ‘virtue signalling leftie’ and I should help ‘one of our own’…coupled with all the clichéd comments you can surmise came with that. It is that type of response you don’t get from magazine columns but, I guess, it’s the nature of the beast.

If you believe in freedom of speech as I do, in face of the online giants and governments muzzling you for daring to deviate, you must take the rough with the smooth, no matter how unpalatable some responses, although that should not mean there are no limits for you, as well as I, because there are. However, in the main, I have thoroughly enjoyed it and, five years down the line, I fervently hope I’ll be here to celebrate a decade in 2026, as long as I manage to keep my toes dry as ‘the line’, like my hairline, recedes with every passing year.

  • Brett Ellis is a teacher