“Why Burnham’s pledge to end rough sleeping is doomed to failure” – me in The Spectator

“In 1983, having fought with my stepfather, I spent a night beneath the stars. Having run away from Yorkshire to London with a few pounds I’d saved working, I slept in a bed and breakfast but soon ran out of money. When a policeman kicked me awake in Victoria Station, I decided the coast might be an easier proposition. So it was that one night, after hitching across Sussex, I curled up in a bush near a railway station called Three Bridges. I was 16…”

Read my latest Spectator piece here.