What the coverage of Aaron Rai’s PGA Championship triumph shows us about identity and Englishness - Daxa Patel

When I read the report, although I am not a follower of golf, my first thought was to question the description. The name Rai sounded Indian to me. I searched for more information and learned that he was born in Wolverhampton to parents with Indian names, now living in the United States but representing England. The BBC stated that this was the first major title of his career, the first Englishman to win the Wanamaker Trophy in over a century, and the first non-American to triumph in a decade.

I felt a surge of emotion because it was both a contradiction and a validation. It suggested that people of colour can finally be accepted as English. I am brown and Bradford-born, yet I hesitate to call myself English, although I am certainly British. I am questioning my own bias because I grew up understanding the optics, or perhaps I absorbed something that was never true.

This sits in stark contrast to a caller on an LBC radio show who insisted that Rishi Sunak is not English because of his name and colour. Identity and belonging matter, but I wonder whether the BBC’s generous description of Aaron Rai as an Englishman reflects the majority view, including among some members of the new Reform Party and, to an extent, myself. I stress that I am not a member of that party.

It is heartening to see anyone bring a trophy home for our country, but this story felt especially uplifting. It reminded me, and perhaps others who struggle with calling a person of colour English, that our beliefs may need to be reconsidered.

To me, being British carries a certain warmth, a sense of respect, care and consideration for others. One of the finest traits of belonging to this country is tolerance. If we see a person on their knees, regardless of colour or age, the instinct is to help them up. That is both the English and the British way.

This brings me to two other recent stories that reveal how we perceive and label people because of their skin colour. When I look at my dog, I see a majestic German Shepherd, not another species, although he is. Yet he and I are one family. That is how belonging should feel.

The local election postal votes included translations explaining how to vote in different languages, and the same information appears in voting booths. When we log into screens at the doctor’s surgery or in hospitals, we are asked about our ethnicity and language. I understand that certain data is required to monitor fairness, but I try to imagine how an English person would feel if repeatedly asked to confirm their ethnicity.

As a clinical negligence solicitor, I often review medical records. When the same question is asked even when the answer is obvious, it can become irritating and provoke the thought that one should not have to confirm their ethnicity simply to assist with diversity monitoring. It brings me back to the question of whether political correctness has been taken to an extreme.

My rational mind says that if you live in England and you are an adult, you must be able to read and communicate in English. My father came to this country in the early 50s and managed to get by, as do many whose first language is not English. Why are we spending precious and finite resources on translation costs when the language of this country is English. At a time when social care is on its knees and the country is carrying record levels of debt, a burden that will fall on the next generation, we must consider how to spend our resources wisely.

The NHS, the court system, the police, immigration services and government departments must be spending significant sums each year. The only reliable statistics I found indicated that the NHS spent £66m on translation and interpretation from 2019 to 2020. I fully support British Sign Language and braille services, which are essential, but spending such a sum on translation services is money we cannot afford. We often see problems only on the surface but there are hidden costs that affect the identity that binds us as one family.

The recent weekend protests in London, where tens of thousands joined rival marches, are another example of wasted resources. The right to free speech and protest is not absolute. All rights carry responsibilities. The police had to deploy four thousand officers to maintain order, officers who were needed elsewhere to prevent crime. These protests should be banned because we cannot afford to police them, regardless of the cause. When our house is on fire, marching in the streets is not responsible.

Daxa Manhar Patel is a leadership coach, author and solicitor.