The Iranian ambassador to Pakistan recently referenced a famous novelist on social media, but in their own words. The ambassador was referring to Jane Austen, who wrote those famous lines about civilisations refusing to negotiate under duress.
When you live in or around Brighton, a seaside city with Regency architecture, the answer becomes obvious.
Surprised? I had only just returned from a nation locked in conflict and was still sorting through my belongings. I was checking my jeans pockets before doing laundry. Inside I found a 200 Ukrainian Hryvnia banknote, worth approximately £3.50. Crumpled metro passes and restaurant receipts also appeared.
Among these items was a metro ticket. Kyiv had eliminated the older women who previously sold green plastic tokens. Now an automated machine dispenses QR codes that passengers scan at platform barriers. The fare was 8 Hryvnia, roughly 15p.
There was also a creased receipt from my wife’s beloved eatery, Pervak. Our family had patronised this establishment for a quarter of a century. It features palm fronds, monochrome photographs adorning the walls, and a winding staircase. The house digestif is a fermented horseradish spirit meant to be consumed quickly. What did we order? A cappuccino priced at £1.25. Chips at £2. A Cola for 30p. Envious?
Your money stretches equally far in other conflict-adjacent nations. After clearing Polish border control, I located my accommodation. A blue illuminated sign beckoned in the darkness. Admittedly, I could not locate the television remote, only hand towels were supplied, and the bedding remained unmade. Yet what standard should one expect for £50? Przemysl becomes deserted on Sundays with only places of worship open for business. Nevertheless, it offers excellent photo opportunities and bargain prices. Where else might one find such a combination?
What does a three-hour Polish rail journey cost? The documentation sits before me. £13. Passengers should bypass ticket counters entirely and use automated kiosks instead. These systems operate straightforwardly and offer English language options. Upon reaching Krakow’s central plaza, the city was hosting a marathon. To reach the 15th-century cloth hall at the plaza’s centre, surrounded by graceful shopfront arcades still adorned with tablecloths, I had to navigate around exhausted runners sprawled on the ground in their workout attire. A battered herring sandwich cost just under £8. Another Cola, my dentist would disapprove, set me back £2.25. The establishment hummed with British tourists perfecting their English language skills.
Critics might argue this comparison oversimplifies matters. Salary levels and quality of life indicators differ significantly. Yet the Artemis II astronauts are not the sole individuals feeling burdened by conditions at home. Plastic currency has proven essential given how much cash would otherwise be required merely for dining out. My neighbourhood Italian establishment charges £15 for a basic pizza without additional toppings.
My welcome home included correspondence from my mortgage advisor, arriving just as President Trump announced strikes against Iran. My existing interest rate stands at 2 percent. Expectation suggests this could rise to 5 percent. An analyst will scrutinise my bank records from the preceding three months. Examine my credit card expenditures. What conclusions might they draw from my crumpled receipts? Fortunately, vehicle ownership does not complicate my situation. The situation in Iran proves illuminating. Fuel costs a mere 5p per litre. Small comfort given the heating system remains dormant.
My spouse observes we are experiencing a return to Regency-era conditions. Formal attire remains unlikely, though circumstances might benefit from such elegance. However, mirroring Jane Austen’s era, our middle classes face contraction and struggle with basic living expenses.
During that historical period, timber, coal and candles supplied illumination and warmth. Candles represented a considerable expense, giving rise to the expression not worth the candle. Jane Austen herself witnessed hyperinflation triggered by Napoleonic conflicts.
For a modest London residence, coal consumption cost £25 over half a year during the early 1800s, while annual rental rates ranged between £12 and £25.
Consider the Royal Pavilion household, which consumed £3,300 in heating and lighting during winter 1822-23, equivalent to 33 years of wages for a skilled urban tradesperson. During Regency times, retail prices climbed 100 percent while compensation rose merely 25 percent. Does this parallel current circumstances? We exhaust resources from both directions, and certain politicians urge candle abandonment. They might object to my wife’s interest in a log burner. An aspirational middle-class alternative to grid dependency. Myself hauling timber through the garden. No tranquil lake for emerging like Mr Darcy for company.
Jane Austen once expressed that substantial income represents the optimal formula for contentment. I cannot share her sentiment, nor do I fully grasp the Iranian ambassador’s levity, yet both provide distraction from financial concerns.
Alistair McNair serves as Conservative group leader on Brighton and Hove City Council.