British and French military chiefs hold peacekeeping talks in Kyiv

British and French military chiefs have met their counterparts in Ukraine to discuss how Sir Keir Starmer’s “coalition of the willing” can “build on the formidable capabilities of the Ukrainian army”.

Admiral Sir Tony Radakin, the chief of the UK defence staff, was in Kyiv this week for talks on the structure, size and make-up of the Ukraine force, in the event of a peace deal between Volodymyr Zelensky and Vladimir Putin.

Sir Tony said: “The UK is ironclad in our support for Ukraine, which is why we’re stepping up for a just and lasting peace.

“Our meetings looked at how we can build on the formidable capabilities of the Ukrainian army and put them in the strongest possible position to deter Russian aggression.

“I am encouraged by the strength of unity we’ve seen between our European and international allies.”

Defence secretary John Healey will host counterparts in a 30-strong “coalition of the willing” meeting in Brussels next week. The group was convened by the UK prime minister and French president Emmanuel Macron to bolster support for Ukraine against Russia.

Sir Keir and Mr Macron, spoke on Saturday and agreed “good progress” had been made during the week by the “coalition of the willing”.

Talks will now focus on the next stages of planning to assemble a force capable of deterring future Russian aggression in Ukraine once a ceasefire is in place.

Mr Healey said: “Our coalition of nations, working at pace and willing to stand with Ukraine for the long-term, is a stark contrast to Russia who stand alone with only North Korea for a friend.

“As Putin prevaricates over a ceasefire, we will continue to ramp up our military planning, exploring the air, sea and land forces that could support a lasting peace in Ukraine.

“However, we will not jeopardise the peace by forgetting about the war.”

Mr Healey also vowed a meeting of the Ukraine Defence Contact Group, including around 50 nations, next week will see allies boost the military support being sent to Kyiv “to put them in the strongest possible position as they fight back brutal continuing Russian attacks”.

Two people die after caravan fire at holiday park

Two people have died following a fire at a caravan site near Skegness.

Officers were called to a report of a caravan fire at Goldenbeach Holiday Park in Roman Bank, Ingoldmells, shortly after 3.50am on Saturday, Lincolnshire Police said.

Fire and rescue crews attended and two people were found to have died.

Their next of kin have been informed and will be supported by specially trained officers.

Inquires are being carried out to determine the exact cause of the fire and investigators are keeping “an open mind”, the force said.

Two fire crews remain at the scene.

National Grid said its engineers had disconnected the local electricity supply to allow the police and fire service to carry out investigations on site.

It added it would aim to restore power to “50 locally affected customers” once the investigations were completed.

Mental health check-in from landlords not going to solve rental crisis

Just when you thought that the rental market couldn’t get more dystopian, it manages to outdo itself. The latest bleak new development for private renters? Landlords attempting to lure in prospective tenants with the promise of… mental health check-ins! The irony is painful, like when a tyrannical boss returns from an HR training session and starts telling their colleagues that it’s “OK not to be OK” (but, ideally, not on work hours, please).

This particular proposal, I should add, doesn’t involve your landlord asking you whether you’ve downloaded the Headspace app to do its mindfulness exercises or telling you to “try going for a walk” when they pop round for their mid-tenancy inspection. According to The Telegraph, the build-to-rent developer Moda is trying to win over potential renters at Embassy Boulevard, its latest London premises, near Battersea Power Station, by offering subsidised rates on virtual counselling sessions, as well as laying on breathwork and sleep workshops and “deep rest” sessions.

I have no experience of Moda and am not suggesting that they are substandard landlords, but in general, anyone who has rented long-term will know all too well how the process can really do a number on your mental wellbeing. There’s the way that a sense of impermanence gradually seeps into you, ensuring that you never feel entirely at peace – why would you, when an email from your landlord could turn your living situation upside down? There’s the stress of managing the inevitable problems, such as dealing with an uncooperative lettings agency when your boiler has conked out for the third time this winter, for example, or the lurking horror of a rodent infestation (I’m pretty sure I have some form of post-traumatic condition after rats took up residence in the kitchen plumbing of an old flat – any vaguely scratchy noises in the night still jerk me into fight or flight mode).

And, if you happen to be living in a houseshare, there’s also the tension that often arises when random assortments of people are forced to live in close proximity, with little in common other than a mutual need to access, say, a certain train station for their commute. No wonder, then, that in a study from the campaign group Generation Rent, nine out of 10 private renters stated that the experience had negatively impacted their mental health; another survey from the same group, released back in 2019, found that renters were 75 per cent more likely to experience serious anxiety and depression than homeowners.

So when I first read about this scheme, part of me thought, hey, at least a big property company is making gestures around mental wellbeing. Shouldn’t we be glad that some landlords might be waking up to the fact that their tenants are actual humans with actual feelings, rather than just sentient bank accounts designed to be milked dry? But the very fact that I responded in that way, however briefly, just goes to underline how, in general, tenants have been starved of good solutions to the UK’s glaring rental problem. We’ve been ground down (by private landlords) and overlooked (by politicians) for so long that we’re expected to gladly receive any tiny concessions.

My worry is that programmes such as this one might serve only to position good mental health as some sort of glossy perk or add-on, rather than a fundamental need. There is something a little jarring about seeing mental health check-ins listed as a potential benefit alongside the promise of a karaoke room and a golf simulator. It feels a bit like when employers offer ping-pong tables and yoga classes to try and prove that they are mindful of their workers’ wellbeing (when most workers would probably prefer work-life balance and a pay rise over organised fun).

Rents at Embassy Boulevard reportedly start at £2,600 per month, with a three bedroom apartment costing £4,600. Surely we can all agree that this is a hell of a lot of money to spend on accommodation. Equating renting an expensive apartment with positive mental health benefits just further hammers home the message that mental wellbeing is something that’s reserved for those who can afford it, a luxury rather than an essential.

Mental wellbeing benefits like these feel like a shiny sticking plaster slapped on a much bigger issue. Having to spend a vast proportion of your income indefinitely on somewhere to live is incredibly draining; doing so can force you into living arrangements that are frankly terrible for your state of mind, whether that’s dragging out a relationship that’s no longer working because you couldn’t afford to rent alone, or sharing a tiny space with people you barely know, let alone like. Breathwork sessions sound lovely, but they’re unlikely to offer much more than a temporary respite for a seriously stressed out renter. Fundamentally, they feel like a marketing gimmick, one that would serve landlords (who could pat themselves on the back about how supportive they’re being) rather than tenants.

The only way we can really start to untangle the messy relationship between renting and mental health across the country is to think long-term, rather than to focus on glamorous-sounding add-ons. You know what would drastically improve the mental health of almost every single renter I know? Proper rules in place to stop excessive price hikes year on year. Speedy fixes for problems within the properties. Better tenants’ rights. More affordable flats, rather than luxury ones. All of these changes would likely do more for our sleep than a snazzy workshop. We should be trying to treat the cause, not the symptom – and we can’t let flashy, short-term novelties distract us from that.

This is Trump’s Brexit disaster moment – with the same central lie

The Brexit drums are beating again. Donald Trump’s decision to lessen the UK’s tariffs versus the EU is being hailed as proof of Brexit success. You see, we were smart to put distance between ourselves and Europe, look at this dividend.

Not only does that analysis ignore the fact that back then this customs onslaught and with it, more favourable treatment for Britain, was not even the subject of speculation, it chooses to ignore the preceding years of harm.

It also pays no attention to the ongoing simple truth that most businesses would still prefer to see a Britain able to exploit the free movement of goods and people with its neighbours. They miss the EU and they’ve struggled to substitute the lost trade and skilled workers. They have also had to contend with stifling red tape and delays on top of their other burdens.

All of this seems to pass the Brexiteers by. As does the fact that the City, a linchpin in our economy, is wilting as bankers and traders decamp to desks in the EU. Their current preference? Milan.

Not London, not anymore. For five decades, the UK capital basked in its position as the geographic and economic springboard for companies seeking an entry into the EU. Those heady days have gone.

Still, Trump has come up, well, trumps. There is though another connection between his tariffs blast and Brexit. The entire Trump ethos is based on the past, on the idea that America can be made great again, that US manufacturing can be reborn.

It owes much to the boy in New York who grew up in a period when America really was booming and leading the world. They were American limousines that prowled the streets, American brands that sat atop the Manhattan towers. Then, those vehicles were replaced by cheaper, better models from Europe and Asia, from Germany and Japan – countries that had previously been wrecked by war and benefited from US financial largesse. Those sky-high domestic names became foreign. Bit by bit American might and majesty waned.

In real estate, the self-styled arch-negotiator, found himself losing out to overseas investors. They had the money, they called the shots. That rankled. The ‘Art of the Deal’ author saw America retreating and reduced.

Put like this, Trump’s credo has a familiar ring. On this side of the Pond, we were told over and over how Britain had also lost its power, its independence, that our historic, hard-won hegemony had been subjugated to Brussels. The argument had an imperial flavour. Leaving would make Britain great again.

Trump believes he has put America in charge of its own destiny. That was the declared aim of Brexit, to take back control.

He’s presented his move as reacting to a ‘National Emergency’. That also bears echoes. Anyone reading the adverts on the side of London buses during the Referendum campaign would be entitled to be baffled by the claims made. The UK, the nation that for years stood alone against Nazi tyranny was apparently now seeing cash draining away, taken by those very countries which it once so bravely defended. Compare that with the messages to Europe from Trump and JD Vance these past few months and you wonder if they’ve not been studying the Brexit playbook.

The NHS was not being starved of resources as the Europhobes claimed, but it did the trick. Today, Trump is proclaiming America has been ‘raped and pillaged’ by the EU.

Just as the UK economy was in good shape prior to Brexit, so too was that of the US before his tariffs attack. The Remainers did a poor job of fighting their corner; arguably, Trump’s predecessor was equally lacklustre at pointing up his achievements. The Brexiteers filled the vacuum; Trump marched in and stole the Democrats’ ground.

The then UK government displayed a weak grasp of place and workings of the economy – famously Dominic Raab did not know the vital role played by the Dover-Calais route. Trump and his supporters are showing a not dissimilar lack of knowledge in failing to understand the joined-up, inter-dependent nature of world trade, how those US products rely on imported parts and materials.

Prices rose in the UK post-Brexit and items were in short supply. America can expect the same.

There was the prospect here of British factories and workers stepping up. It has not happened. Trump is looking to his plants and citizens to replace what has been lost. We wait to see whether they do.

All because the principal architects have a sepia-tinted view of the past. They fail to realise that the life they remember and the one they read about, gloried in books and stories, had changed. Britain no longer ran anything but was an isolated island; other nations did not rush to do trade deals with us. The US no longer dominates; others may get along fine without it.

Maybe Britain will now, finally, reap that promised Brexit bonanza. Let us hope so, but it will have to go some distance to recovering what was lost. Americans may also soon find themselves scratching their heads and wondering what have we done? For tariffs read Brexit, and not in a positive way.

Far from being Brexit’s moment as its proponents insist, this could well be Trump’s ‘Brexit moment’ which has a different connotation altogether.

Michelle Williams’s raunchy cancer dramedy Dying for Sex is a joy

TV series adapted from podcasts are in search of one thing: intimacy. It is what the audio format thrives on. A familiarity with the voices whispering in your ear that makes you feel like you are amongst friends or with family. Dying for Sex was just such a podcast: the story, told through its host Nikki Boyer, of her friend Molly Kochan and the existential journey she took after a terminal diagnosis. Now the podcast gets sexed up for the small screen, with Michelle Williams taking the lead role in a charming, warm Disney+ adaptation.

Molly’s cancer is back. Back, and incurable. “If you’re dying,” her best friend Nikki (Jenny Slate) asks her as she reels from the diagnosis, “why are you weirdly vibing right now?” If the cancer has turned Molly’s life on its head, her subsequent decisions have her spinning like a 90s breakdancer. She leaves her irritating husband Steve (Jay Duplass), putting her care in the hands of Nikki, who she describes as “a beautiful flake”. Then Molly embarks on a “sex quest”, a voyage through New York City’s eligible (and ineligible) men in pursuit of something she has never experienced: a partnered orgasm.

Created by Elizabeth Meriwether, the writer behind New Girl, one of the best sitcoms of the 21st century, and Kim Rosenstock, Dying for Sex could easily have been a knockabout raunchfest. The Bucket List with dildos and riding crops and cock cages. But Meriwether keeps her taste for zany oddballs largely in check here. Molly is thoughtful, curious but, ultimately, played rather straight (Williams has one of the great faces, but is not a natural comic actor). Nikki is a conduit for a more chaotic energy, but even she is played closer to the timbre of Lena Dunham’s Girls (in which Slate made a fleeting appearance) than the overblown mania of New Girl’s breakout character, memeable fuss-pot Schmidt. This is a project in a lilting minor key, where the comedy plays second fiddle to notes of melancholy.

Which isn’t to say that Dying for Sex is a weepie either. The necessity for a box of Kleenex is split quite evenly between the two parts of its title. “There’s a whole world out there,” Molly’s palliative care nurse Sonya (Esco Jouléy) tells her. “If you want it.” And so rather than focus on the gruelling regimen of chemo and radiation, Molly’s story is told largely through a picaresque series of sexual encounters, which often culminate in stolen moments – sometimes involving sexually degrading commentary; sometimes involving tenderly eating snacks – with her vaguely disgusting unnamed neighbour (Rob Delaney). There’s the man who wants to be humiliated for having a small penis (the twist: it’s big) or the 25-year-old desperate for her to “clasp” his balls. Her journey into kink is rendered vividly but palatably: even her human pet, who she pees on, is rather handsome. More Kennel Club than dive bar.

With its interest in fetish, Dying for Sex is, in a way, more explicit than many TV shows that have dealt directly with sex in the past. And yet it has a softness that might blunt its edge for some viewers. The comedy, too, is a gentle thing, more often dictated by the situations in which Molly finds herself (such as Steve’s arrival at her chemo session with his new girlfriend) than big set-piece yucks (though I did laugh out loud at a joke about Bill de Blasio). It feels like there is an emerging model for American limited series – like Painkiller or The Shrink Next Door – which straddle a line between comedy and drama without fully committing to either. The 30-minute format of Dying for Sex makes it feel like it’s in classical sitcom territory, yet it is played with a deep attention to Molly’s interiority (she simultaneously narrates the action) and focused on issues, like childhood trauma and mortality, that hit hard.

It is credit, then, to Williams’s performance, and the lightness of touch that Meriwether brings, that Dying for Sex manages to bottle the intimacy of the podcast form. In spite of its subject matter, it feels soothing, a parasocial balm to the ills of the human condition. It might not be family viewing, but it has a universality. To love, to lose, to fight, to f***: these are the experiences that round out a life. Dying for Sex is, in the end, the ultimate switch: an ode to both taking control and losing it.

Island hopping in Dubrovnik: from nature to adventure, your itinerary

There’s more to the area around Dubrovnik than just the beautiful, UNESCO-heritage city which has been drawing crowds for decades. So while you shouldn’t miss the chance to explore its medieval City Walls, take in its Baroque cathedrals and churches, or simply stroll along the Stradun, consider an island-hopping adventure, which will bring you back to nature and make you forget urban life…for a while, at least. The Croatian archipelago lies along the eastern coast of the Adriatic Sea and has 1,244 natural formations, of which 78 are islands; so, where on earth to begin?

Start with Mljet, known as the ‘Green Island’ due to its dense forest. It takes around one hour and forty minutes to reach by ferry from Dubrovnik and also boasts Mediterranean landscapes, aquamarine seas, and soft, sandy shorelines. At its western end you’ll find 13,000 acres of tranquil National Park, criss-crossed with sheltered walking and cycling tracks, a ruggedly beautiful coastline, ancient ruins and saltwater lakes. Look out for the sprawling remains of a vast, 5th century Roman palace on the waterfront of nearby Polače village. If you enjoy hiking, one of the most popular trails leads to the summit of Montokuc, the highest point in the National Park, which will reward you with a stunning panorama of the island’s lush greenery, the Veliko Jezero and Malo Jezero lakes, and the Adriatic Sea that surrounds it.

However, if you prefer to explore on two wheels, there are several trails which take you through forests, along the lakeshore, and past beautiful viewpoints. These lakes (Velike means ‘Big Lake’ while Malo is ‘Small Lake’) are perfect for swimming and snorkelling – just dive right into their calm, crystal-clear waters. Alternatively, you can explore them by kayak, taking in the scenic forest and cliff views at your own pace; look out for the small islet of St Mary’s in the middle, home to an ancient Benedictine monastery.

Bigger, and a bit busier, is Korčula, whose unspoiled landscapes are reached by a two-hour ferry journey from Dubrovnik. The island got its name after the Ancient Greeks saw its dense oak and pine forests and called it Korkyra Melaina, meaning ‘Black Corfu’.

The medieval main town offers picturesque cobbled streets, crenellated walls and a 15th century Gothic Renaissance cathedral, which houses works by Venetian artist Tintoretto. Head to the top of its bell tower for magnificent views out to sea. Away from its quiet charm, you’ll also find unspoiled beaches and coves, and acres of vineyards and olive groves which produce the island’s excellent local olive oil and wine. Don’t miss the archaeological site of Vela Spila, on the west coast, a large, domed cavern which housed prehistoric communities over 18,000 years ago.

If it’s beaches you’re after, make a beeline for Lumbarda, a small fisherman’s village with the best – and only – sandy beaches on the island. Vela Pržina has year-round warm seas, while neighbouring Bilin Žal is popular with families thanks to its shallow water, ideal for paddling.

Korčula also has an archipelago of its own, called Škoji; hop on a water taxi from the old town’s marina to explore the idyllic isles of Badija, home to a 15th century Franciscan monastery and a herd of fallow deer, busier Stupe, home to buzzy beach clubs, restaurants and bars, and small, delightful Vrnik, with a pebbled beach perfect for paddling and sunbathing.

If all that feels like too much civilisation, head for Lastovo, a tiny paradise which is Croatia’s most remote inhabited island. With a population of less than a thousand people, this is where to visit when you want absolute quiet and seclusion. Here you’ll find thick forests, craggy coastline, and peaceful walking trails, where the only sounds you’ll hear are the waves rolling in, and occasional birdsong.

Together with its surrounding archipelago, it makes up the Lastovsko Otocje (Lastovo Nature Park), one of the best-preserved marine areas in the Adriatic. Think clifftop views, woodland hikes, and swimming around sea caves and coral reefs, all within a chain of small islands.

Whichever one you choose – and why not choose them all? – you can guarantee a truly magnificent holiday.

For more Dubrovnik travel inspiration and information, head to Visit Dubrovnik

What is the Chagos Islands deal with the UK that Trump has approved?

According to No 10, Donald Trump has “signed off” on the highly controversial Chagos Islands deal, drawing to a close the tortuous process of securing the future of the UK-US military base that has been operating on Diego Garcia since 1965.

It means formal sovereignty of the British Indian Ocean Territory (BIOT) will be ceded to Mauritius, and comes as something of a shock to opponents who fully expected Mr Trump to reject the change. The long saga may be coming to a close…

Some of the basics are still unknown, especially as regards money, but the position will be that the BIOT – comprising the Chagos Islands and the military base – will be transferred to Mauritian sovereignty. In return, the UK has been promised a 99-year lease on the islands, with military use by the US part of the deal, in return for an annual fee. The fee has not yet been disclosed, but is thought to be some £90m per annum, inflation-linked.

The small matter of international law. Successive appeals by Mauritius to the UN and the International Court of Justice have left the status of the BIOT in doubt, generally favouring the Mauritian position.

The islands are plainly a colonial possession, acquired from France in 1814 after the Napoleonic Wars. As such they are subject to UN resolutions and decolonisation. The islands were carved out of what was then the crown colony of Mauritius as part of its 1968 granting of independence, but such coercion also violated international law. The UK could carry on ignoring the situation, but this would leave the legal status of the joint base in doubt and thus at risk. In a worst-case scenario, Mauritius could transfer sovereignty of “their” islands to, say, China or India. Generally, civilised nations are expected to abide by international law.

They’ve been shabbily treated for decades, having been forcibly evicted to make way for the base in the 1960s. The diaspora principally lives in Mauritius, the Seychelles and near Gatwick Airport, and have had no vote on the deal. Foreign secretary David Lammy insists they have been consulted throughout.

Not quite. Trump has approved it but the formality of Mauritius and the UK signing the agreement has yet to take place, after which the treaty will need to be approved by parliament and all the costs and clauses will be made public. Given the government’s majority and the backing of the White House, the deal is bound to be ratified.

The Conservatives and Reform UK describe it as such, and object to public money needed for vital services being transferred to Mauritius – but that seems to be the price for settling this long-running dispute. What financial contribution, if any, the US will make is not known. In the current wider context of defence and economic tensions between the UK and the US, the Chagos leasing costs might be considered a useful sweetener in the national interest.

No. Those few empire loyalists who feel passionately about the issue are a minority and would never vote Labour anyway, some because they haven’t forgiven Clement Attlee for giving up India. The often exaggerated cost of the lease (adding inflation over a century to invent a bogus cost in today’s money) is no more than a right-wing debating point. The Conservatives are compromised on this argument because they were in talks to “surrender” the BIOT for years, and no one thinks the deal can be reversed unless the Americans demand it.

It doesn’t feel like it, and the government says not. Nonetheless, there are parallels in their disputed colonial status. Before the 1982 Falklands War, a transfer and leaseback arrangement was freely raised by Britain as a way of ending the arguments in the South Atlantic.

The big shift in both these cases has been Brexit, with one EU member, Spain, having a vital interest in steering EU diplomacy towards regaining Gibraltar and a friendlier stance towards the Argentinian claim on the Falklands. The UK can no longer rely on the EU to back it up at the UN and elsewhere; indeed, the Brexit treaty gives Spain a special role with regard to Gibraltar, and the territory’s land and air border arrangements still haven’t been finally sorted out.

Like it or not, the sun has not fully set on the British empire.

Starmer is right to maintain dignity – and avoid upsetting Trump

The prime minister’s insistence that, in framing the UK’s response to the Trump tariffs, “We will always act in the national interest” was wise and reassuring. The mood at the moment is to “keep calm and carry on negotiating”, and if there is to be a response, it needs to be weighed, and to represent a fully informed choice. Hence the meeting of business leaders convened in Downing Street in the immediate aftermath of the US president’s announcements.

In the coming days, the full scale and nature of international retaliation will become clearer; so too will Donald Trump’s thinking. From his rambling presentation of the new tariff schedules in the White House Rose Garden, it is not obvious whether these punitive import taxes are designed to kickstart a more benign process involving a global relaxation of trade restrictions, or if they are part of a permanent policy shift aimed at restoring American manufacturing and providing trillions of dollars for the US Treasury. There is, in other words, no need for a rush to action.

Sir Keir Starmer is right to try to maintain the dignity of the nation, as well as to avoid upsetting the combustible Mr Trump, by limiting himself to vague remarks about having “levers at his disposal”. Businesses are being consulted on possible retaliatory actions, but that is all – at least for the time being.

However, with the US economy approximately seven times as large as that of the UK – and Britain still heavily reliant on America for its defence – those levers are not especially powerful ones. Unlike, say, China (in concert with Japan and South Korea), the European Union, Mexico or Canada, the UK lacks the necessary heft to inflict much material damage on American producers and exporters. Any effort to join in with an international assault on Mr Trump’s policy would risk attracting the imposition of even higher tariffs on UK exports, with the corresponding harm to British jobs and economic growth – and to European security and the Ukraine peace talks.

Far better, then, for the British government to keep a “cool head”, as Sir Keir suggests: not only does it suit the prime minister’s general demeanour, but it will help to preserve his unusually warm relationship with a man almost precisely his ideological opposite. Britain is set to watch how things develop, and will continue to engage with American officials on trade, investment, and wider economic relations. If an old and valued friend unexpectedly decides to have a spat, the most rational response is not to hit them back and escalate an argument into a violent rift.

Fanciful as it may seem, this crisis can be turned into an opportunity. As the business secretary, Jonathan Reynolds, told the Commons, a trade deal of some sort could be mutually beneficial, even if that isn’t immediately apparent to President Trump, who is more “zero sum” in his approach to life (as might be expected from his time in real estate).

Sir Keir says that talks are continuing. He should be encouraged by the fact that the UK is to be subjected only to the lower “baseline” tariff of 10 per cent, albeit with the higher charges on cars, steel and aluminium bringing the trade-weighted average up to 13 per cent. When the two leaders met in the White House, Mr Trump expressed the hope that a deal could be done. Despite intense activity, such an agreement couldn’t be reached in time to avoid the new tariffs, but the process – which has been in train since Theresa May launched post-Brexit talks with the US – has begun.

The outlines of such a deal can already be discerned. Negotiables could include a radical cut in the tariffs on US goods, such as cars and agricultural produce, and easier access for qualified, skilled workers through mutual recognition. The UK might have to compromise on its high standards of animal welfare, hygiene, and environmental protection, but that is a tough choice that could be made, in the expectation that consumers would exercise their right to choose.

More difficult, if not impossible, would be meeting the usual demands for improved – inflated – prices to be paid by the NHS to the US pharmaceutical giants. The American negotiators would also have to be properly briefed on the reality of free speech in the UK, which is protected as a human right by law, save for incitement to hatred against specified vulnerable groups.

The real question is whether the achievement of some sort of economic agreement with America – an outcome that would certainly yield benefits – is worth the sacrifices and concessions that are likely to be demanded by Mr Trump. That includes the effect that any such pact would have on our relationship with the EU, in light of the “reset” promised by Labour at the general election.

Even the possibility of such an agreement with the United States is being touted as a “Brexit bonus”, as is the “favourable” 10 per cent tariff. Needless to say, this is highly debatable. Were it still part of the EU, the UK would probably have been treated more harshly, but it would have had the full weight of the largest single market in the world behind it, along with better access to the EU markets that it has lost since Brexit.

As a member state, the UK would also have been able, ironically, to control its own laws on free speech, as well as to protect the NHS and farmers. In other words, a trade deal with America would have to be radically better than currently envisaged in order to make Brexit remotely worthwhile, even in purely financial terms.

And there remains the terrible truth that the US has downgraded its commitment to Nato, and “switched sides” to align with Russia on the matters of Ukraine and European security.

On balance, Sir Keir can best serve the British national interest by pursuing closer relations with Europe, while declining to enact futile retaliatory measures against America and salvaging as much as possible of the US-UK special relationship. The hope is that the Trump era might ultimately pass more smoothly. In any case, balancing and nurturing Britain’s most crucial relationships won’t be easy.