“The idea of blaming our housing crisis on immigration is wild to me actually, Robert.” Wild indeed, when the laws of supply and demand are so difficult to comprehend. “Do you think that if we lock down our borders, that we are going to solve the housing crisis”, she probed further.

“The thing is, the more people you have in a country, the more houses you’re going to need”, responded Kenyon, in a line returned with either a great deal of condescension in mind, or just a sheer lack of intelligence. I am minded to back the idea of the latter being true.

“You using immigration on the issue of housing, I think is absolutely unjust” surmised Wakefield, before attempting to conclude the conversation with Kenyon. Unfortunately for the Green candidate, Fiona Bruce then allowed Kenyon to put his question forward again, “Does immigration have an affect on housing?”

At this point, evidently frustrated, Wakefield returned her serve with the same level of condescension delivered to her by Kenyon earlier. “Whoever lives in this country, has an impact on housing, of course. The numbers of people in a country, thats not necessarily to do with immigration.”

As of now, I am still unsure as to whether the Green candidate has been explained the system by which immigration and emigration functions, as the number of people living in any country at any one time is entirely to do with it, but if this mind numbing exchange demonstrates anything close to the best of what Britain’s two insurgent political parties have to offer, then we are well and truly done for.

I was however desperately intrigued by the data behind this, and the fundamental caveat here is that I am only looking at the total number of homes completed in each year and the theoretical demand created by net migration. There is evidently not a surplus of housing stock in the UK, but when context is a applied through the net housing needs of migration, it should help to guide us on the impact of immigration.

According to the Office for National Statistics, the average size of a UK household is currently 2.35 people. An entirely unhelpful figure in most regards, but for this it is actually rather useful. By applying it to the net migration figures, we are able to discern the net housing needs on a year by year basis over a much longer period of time.

From 2012 until the now infamous Boriswave of 2021-2023, the net housing needs as a result of migration sat comfortably below the number of houses completed every year. This is the most clear reminder that migration is not the sole driver of the need for greater housing supply.

For years, the level of migration in the UK had a notional, but not overwhelmingly significant impact on the level of available housing supply, but it would be wrong to suggest that in recent years, in large part due to the substantial amount of net migration.

Net migration now appears to be on a downward trend, which over a longer period of time may begin to resolve some of the pressures placed on the system by the Boriswave.

But with the government already struggling to fulfil their aims to construct 1.5 million homes by the end of their first term, with the least amount of homes built last year since 2020, it will likely be a long road to alleviating Britains housing crisis.

Alan Milburn’s interview this weekend with Laura Kuenssberg confirmed what many have long suggested: the welfare state is actively enabling a generation of young people to opt out of contributing anything at all to society.

The latest NEET figures themselves are damning, and the absence of any serious scrutiny over where public money is flowing has allowed the problem to fester. Nothing on the horizon suggests it is about to improve.

For months, I have been rabbeting on about the necessity to introduce some form of national service. It seems like a straightforward political win for any party that dares to look outside of their own castle.

But now, I am more convinced than ever that it represents the only serious intervention capable of rescuing Britain’s youth from a state-subsidised drift into irrelevance.

The Conservatives tried this in their 2024 election manifesto. It bombed with the public, was communicated badly by Downing Street, and was simultaneously picked apart by their own Defence Minister. The policy was not fundamentally wrong, but the execution was a disaster.

Denmark shows how it can be done properly, extending conscription to include women for the first time last year, with service lasting between three and twelve months. On their Day of Defence, every Danish citizen over 18 is required to attend seminars introducing them to the military and undergo a medical assessment to determine their suitability for service.

If you will pardon the pun, it is a NEET solution on two fronts: every 18-year-old gets a medical check-up, and the country begins to build something resembling cultural cohesion. And goodness knows we need that too.

The model also works because it is honest about what it is. It does not dress compulsion up as opportunity. It tells young people that ownership of a country is not inherited passively, but earned. Young Danes are not asked whether they feel like contributing. They are expected to.

Norway goes further. Its model rotates conscripts through military, civil defence, and public service roles depending on aptitude and national need. A young person with no aptitude for or interest in the armed forces can spend their service supporting emergency services, environmental monitoring, or social care. The country gets what it needs. The individual gets skills, structure, and the not-insignificant experience of being useful.

We could adopt exactly this: a compulsory Day of Assessment at 18 for every young person, modelled on the Danish template, combining medical screening, a skills audit, and an honest conversation about where each individual could contribute most. That would be followed by a minimum period of structured service, military or civilian, with financial or legal penalties for refusal, such as in Sweden or Finland.

The Office for Budget Responsibility has repeatedly flagged long-term inactivity as a structural fiscal risk. Complaints about the cost of a national service programme are inevitable, but they ignore the other side of the ledger. We are already paying, heavily, for a generation that contributes less and less. The question is not whether we can afford to act, but whether we can afford not to.

The politics, if handled properly, are more straightforward than they appear. It is not a question of left or right. In Scandinavia, both conservative and social democratic governments have broadened the scope of national service.

Britain today is broken for so many people, especially the young. As a society, we lack demonstrable skills, self-discipline, and a sense of collective purpose. It is time we put that right.