SO now that David Cameron is officially installed as Tory leader, campaigning for the next general election has, albeit unofficially, kicked off. What will be interesting to discover over the coming months and years is not only whether the Tories can be regenerated under his leadership - and even diehard Labour supporters recognise the need for stronger opposition - but also whether more people will be encouraged to engage with the political process.
One indicator will be whether they bother voting at subsequent elections. Whether it's disillusionment, disaffection or disgust, recent polls have seen turnouts plummet across the country. So if you have not been in the habit of voting already, what
- other than the somewhat dubious charms of an Old Etonian smooth political operator - would inspire you to go to the ballot box?
I started thinking about this a few days ago, when I was in Kazakhstan shadowing MEP Struan Stevenson, who was chairing the European Parliament's team monitoring the presidential elections. My first impressions were that Kazakhstan could hardly be more different from Scotland or the rest of Europe.
Kazakhstan has a proud history - many of its people are said to be direct descendants of the famously virile Genghis Khan - but thanks to more than 70 years of Russian rule, it is now a former Soviet state, trying to build democracy from scratch.
On Friday, its citizens will celebrate 14 years of independence, but Kazakhstan still has what the West would describe as an authoritarian regime, under the presidency of former communist Nursultan Nazarbayev.
No-one expected that his leadership would be seriously challenged in the elections, partly because the opposition parties are weak, and partly because Nazarbayev has such a powerful hold on the country, not least because most of the media is either controlled by the state or is owned by his daughter, Dariga.
He is also genuinely popular because of high economic growth fuelled by the country's booming oil industry, so few were surprised when he was re-elected with more than 90 per cent of the vote.
Against this backdrop, what surprised me was that so many Kazakh people turned out to vote at all. For much of the year, the temperatures in Astana are not so much sub-zero as sub-Siberian - indeed it was a skin-stinging minus 12 degrees when the polls opened - yet the turnout was higher than any of our recent elections, usually held in the spring sunshine.
Some voters were doubtless attracted by the blaring music and the free buffets on offer at each polling station. First-time voters and those over 80 were also treated to gifts, such as free electric kettles or food mixers.
But I was left wondering, can the Europeans who observed the elections afford to be so critical of the way the elections were run?
The observers, led by the Organisation for Security and Co-operation in Europe, criticised restrictions on campaigning, harassment of campaign staff, and "persistent and numerous cases of intimidation" by the authorities. At several polling stations that I visited in the capital city, Astana, there were claims that those people who had indicated to the Central Election Commission that they might not vote for the president found their names had been mysteriously scrubbed from the voting register.
All these are grounds for genuine concern. But can we judge the Kazakhs without taking account of the fact that their democracy is only 14 years old? And how can we in Britain, said to be the cradle of democracy, criticise them when independent observers, let alone journalists, are not allowed in our polling stations?
It is important that Europe strives to uphold and strengthen democracy in Kazakhstan - not least because of the burgeoning trade links and the need for access to dwindling global oil and gas reserves - but we must also seek to put our own house in order.
Most Kazakhs I spoke to recognised the failings of their system, but believe in supporting gradual change that does not threaten their economic stability or their national security. Kazakhstan has lessons to teach us. And one of those is that democracy is not simply a right to be demanded, but a process that every member of the public should engage in.
Say 'na-na-na-Narnia!' to the PC prudesIT never ceases to amaze me how religion has the power to provoke dissent in our increasingly secularised society. Take the apoplexy being suffered by the politically correct brigade over the Chronicles of Narnia.
I read The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe when I was at primary school, blissfully unaware of its allegorical significance - for example, that Aslan the lion, who is slain and comes back to life, was supposed to represent Christ.
Maybe I wasn't a perceptive child, but I just liked the story, and whatever the motives of CS Lewis, it certainly didn't convert me to Christianity of any denomination. Anyway, how could Mr Lewis succeed where my school's attempts at indoctrination through forced hymn singing and prayers had failed? And what kids' stories and fairy tales aren't about morality and the battle of good versus evil?
Some critics have also said that the film fails to explain why Aslan is resurrected. But I have more trouble working about what the kingdom of Narnia was doing lurking at the back of a dusty old wardrobe. And why did the old professor have so many fur coats in mothballs?
Please tell Sharleen about the Barnet formulaI REALLY must get out more. I've watched so much telly in the past month that I'm beginning to get a distinct feeling of déjà vu.
Have you ever noticed the number of celebrities who pop up on more than one chat show, to talk about the same old guff they are promoting?
Obviously ITV thinks no-one watches both Parkinson and OFI Sunday because Bradley Walsh and Robbie Williams are being recycled. And Sharleen Spiteri popped up chatting to Chris Evans barely a couple of weeks after being interviewed by Jonathan Ross.
Unfortunately it gave me another chance to marvel at how a former hairdresser could have a barnet that looks like a bunch of rats' tails that have been dragged through a hedge backwards and then doused in engine oil. It's lucky for Sharleen's career that she's got such a great voice.
Now she's made her millions, perhaps she should stop doing her own hair?
