One of the great strengths of populism, in all its rightwing and leftwing varieties, is its readiness to blame people. When democracies are discontented, as most are now, the old early 21st-century politics of relative consensus and moderation is seen by many voters as insincere and inadequate, as many unpopular centrist leaders have discovered. Societies are always divided between clashing interests, especially under the current, ultracompetitive version of capitalism, and populism recognises that. In some ways, it is more honest than conventional politics.

But only in some. Rightwing populism in particular relies on an ever-expanding list of enemies – from urban elites to benefit claimants, immigrants to deep-state bureaucrats, diversity officers to leftwing radicals, net zero “zealots” to mild liberals – yet this list always contains a striking omission. In Britain as in other countries, many of the social trends that rightwing populists and their supporters say they hate, and want to reverse, are partly being driven by populist voters themselves.

The decline of pubs and high streets, the struggles of small farmers, the retreat of Christianity, the shrinkage of British manufacturing, the fracturing of the traditional family, the reliance on foreign labour, and the fading of local distinctiveness and pride: all these are caused, to a large extent, by changes in consumer habits and social norms. And these are changes in which many supporters of rightwing populism are participants, like everyone else.

For that reason, you might not expect Reform UK’s traditionalist and xenophobic vision to have huge appeal in Britain: a nation of supermarket shoppers that often prefers foreign........

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