For the first decade of the 2000s I was a vicar in suburban southwest London. Part of my inheritance from the previous regime was a church with close links to a cult. It was a very British kind of cult, with an emphasis on high culture, old-fashioned values and the 1662 Prayer-Book. A sepia-tinted nostalgia for old England was combined with an eclectic mix of Eastern mysticism and esoterica dredged from the freakier wilds of Victoriana. They ran a number of schools, including

Kindness – I’ve long been a fan, even though its public image tended to be rather wet and doormatty. Kindness is being considerate; it’s selfless generosity; it’s going out of your way to help another without expecting reward; it’s putting yourself in another’s shoes. All good. But the way I feel about the word kindness has changed. It started when kindness got a PR makeover, became the cool kid on the block, and started carrying a baseball bat. ❧ ❧ ❧ Cool Kid on the Block Ki