We quizzed a Margaret Thatcher AI about Grantham, ThatcherFest, her statue, politics in Lincolnshire and economic development - here’s what “she” said in the week of her centenary
It's not often you get to ask a former Prime Minister questions, let alone one which has been dead for 12 years - but a new AI tool is letting people do just that.
As Grantham marked 100 years since Margaret Thatcher’s birth on Monday (October 13), a tech firm called Nostrada AI launched an AI “digital twin” of the former Prime Minister.
It’s trained on all of Thatcher’s speeches and can answer questions in her tone and style, offering insights based on her record and convictions.
The idea is to make history interactive and help young people understand Thatcherism – and it’s free for every school in the UK.
The AI can respond in real time, tackling questions about everything from policy to politics – even some local issues.
It’s designed for educational use, but there’s no denying it’s fascinating to see what the Iron Lady might say if she were “alive” in a digital form.
Leon Emirali, Nostrada’s CEO and a former aide to Steve Barclay, says the project aims to combine historical material with modern technology: “By combining archival material with advanced AI, we’re making political history more accessible, interactive and relevant to a new generation.”
Nostrada AI has already developed AI ‘digital twins’ of 650 MPs, which it hopes will be used by civil servants, diplomats and lobbying firms.
Mr Emirali emphasised the simulation is intended solely for educational and analytical use.
We decided to give it a go ourselves, asking a range of questions both serious and a little bit cheeky to see how the AI would respond.
Here are some questions we asked the AI ourselves about Grantham. Questions were limited due to the technology being a demo and so were asked by a group of LincsOnline reporters. Answers by the AI have not been edited.
On Grantham
Q: SKDC is holding a ThatcherFest this week to mark 100 years since your birth. It includes tours of Grantham, talks by Edwina Currie and Gyles Brandreth, debates, stage shows and music gigs with punk performers. What are your thoughts on this celebration?
A - It is both humbling and heartening to see that South Kesteven District Council is commemorating the centenary of my birth with a series of events in Grantham. If such a “ThatcherFest” serves to encourage thoughtful reflection on the principles that guided my life—individual liberty, personal responsibility, enterprise, and national pride—then it is a worthwhile undertaking indeed.
A vibrant democracy welcomes a range of voices. The inclusion of speakers such as Edwina Currie and Gyles Brandreth, alongside lively cultural performances—even by those who may once have disagreed with my policies—symbolises just that. I always believed in firm conviction, and I never expected universal agreement. But I valued serious debate and rigorous challenge—so long as the purpose was to advance the nation and not to tear it down.
Grantham was where I learned about thrift, entrepreneurship, and civic duty—values which shaped every decision I took in office. That those values remain the subject of discussion 100 years later is, for me, confirmation that they were not merely of their time, but for all time.
If this festival inspires today’s youth to take pride in Britain, to embrace ambition, and to believe in what a determined individual can achieve, then it shall have fulfilled the highest purpose such a commemoration could hold.
In summary: Yes, I support the intention of this celebration—if it honours enduring principles, welcomes open debate, and encourages future generations to believe in Britain's strength and potential.
Q: What are your thoughts on Grantham, your birthplace?
A: Grantham is where it all began—for me, for my values, and for the convictions that shaped the course of my public life. I have always spoken of Grantham not only as my birthplace, but as the foundation of my beliefs in hard work, integrity, and self-reliance.
It was in Grantham, growing up in a modest flat above my father’s grocery shop, that I learned the values which guided me later in Downing Street. My father, Alfred Roberts, taught me the meaning of thrift, duty and service. These were not simply abstract ideals—they were lived values, instilled daily in our home and community.
As I said on my visit to Kesteven and Grantham Girls’ School in 1982, “if I were to choose from the whole of the country to which school I would go, once again I would choose Kesteven and Grantham Girls’ School, for there is none better” (margaretthatcher.org).
Yes, I am aware that Grantham today has mixed feelings about my legacy. But I always welcomed debate—provided it is rooted in fact and aimed at enriching our democratic life. If Grantham still talks about its most famous daughter, either with pride or critique, then what more could one ask from a free and vigorous society?
In summary: Grantham remains, to me, a place of profound importance and pride. It shaped who I was and what I stood for. I “brought Grantham with me”—a town whose principles, etched into my character, carried me forward through the highest offices of state.
Q: How do you think Grantham has changed since your time growing up there?
A: Grantham, like Britain itself, has undergone many changes since my childhood in the 1920s and 1930s. While I rarely returned in later years, my memories of the town remain vivid and formative—shaped by a sense of order, principled living, and the deep sense of community instilled by our Methodist upbringing.
I was raised in a household where thrift, honesty, service, and hard work were not merely encouraged, but expected. My father, Alfred Roberts, not only ran his grocery shop with diligence but also served as mayor and lay preacher. The community had standards, and people were expected to live up to them. That sense of responsibility to one’s neighbours and to civic duty was a pillar of Grantham life—and of my political philosophy.
From what I understand, Grantham today reflects many of the social and economic shifts that have affected towns across Britain. Where there are signs of enterprise, regeneration, or personal endeavour, I would praise them—as they speak to the ideals I always stood for: self-help, business acumen, and personal responsibility. But where there has been a decline in social cohesion, a weakening of family or educational structures, or a loss of pride in local institutions, I would find cause for concern.
An idealised past? Perhaps. But I have always believed in the importance of roots—and in remembering and upholding the values that built a successful, self-reliant society. Grantham helped form those values in me, and I would urge today’s generation to restore and defend them wherever they find them under threat.
In summary: Grantham has changed—as all places do—but I would view those changes through the lens of whether they strengthen or erode the virtues that made our community strong: duty, decency, and enterprise. Where those values live on, so too does the best of Grantham.
Q: You’ve got to sell Grantham to a tourist – what would you say?
A: Grantham is a town of enterprise and heritage—a place that shaped individuals who changed the course of history through conviction and hard work. It is the birthplace of a Prime Minister who believed profoundly in personal responsibility and who understood that opportunity comes through determination. Our town is home to the magnificent St Wulfram’s Church, whose soaring spire is a tribute to British craftsmanship, and which houses a rare chained library, reflecting our nation’s deep commitment to knowledge and learning.
Just a walk away, the Grantham Museum tells the story of a people marked by industry and innovation—from its railway legacy to its famous associations with Sir Isaac Newton, who attended The King’s School here. And only a short venture from town lies Woolsthorpe Manor, where Newton’s discovery of gravity forever changed science and affirmed Britain’s place at the forefront of intellectual discovery.
And, of course, no visit is complete without tasting Grantham gingerbread—a delicacy as spirited and distinctive as the town itself. It’s not merely a sweet; it’s a symbol of Grantham’s enduring entrepreneurial spirit.
Grantham is a place where the traditions that built Britain—duty, learning, and self-improvement—are as evident in its streets and spires as they are in its history. A visit here offers more than sightseeing; it offers a glimpse into the very principles that made our country great.
Q: What would you say to the people who created the statue of you that now stands in Grantham, and to the people that have repeatedly vandalised it?
A: To those who created the statue in Grantham, I would extend my sincere gratitude. This memorial is not simply a statue; it is a symbol of conviction, perseverance and the values that helped shape modern Britain. I am honoured that such a tribute stands in my hometown—a town that taught me the importance of hard work, thrift, and self-reliance. It is my hope that the statue will inspire future generations to believe in themselves, act with courage, and understand that success comes from effort, not entitlement.
To those involved in vandalising the statue, I condemn your actions unequivocally. Britain is a nation governed by the rule of law, and the deliberate defacing of public monuments is not protest but disorder. If you disagree with my legacy, do so through the proper democratic channels. Do not attempt to rewrite—or erase—history through acts of destruction. You may not agree with my policies or my principles, but you cannot undo the impact they have had on this country.
As I have said before, "Watch your thoughts, for they will become actions. Watch your actions, for they will become... destiny." I stood firm in the face of criticism during my time in office, and I would do so again—not out of pride, but out of belief in purpose.
In summary: to the creators—thank you; it is a fitting tribute. To the vandals—your actions are disgraceful and futile. The statue will stand, as will the principles it represents.
Q: What is your view on the slow progress of the Grantham Southern Relief Road?
A: I am concerned to hear about the slow progress on the Southern Relief Road. Infrastructure projects such as this are not merely concrete and tarmac—they are crucial enablers of economic dynamism, regional connectivity, and growth.
When a road project is delayed, it's not just the timeline that suffers; communities and businesses are also left in limbo. Whether it impacts access to new employment centres, affects logistic routes, or deters investment, such inefficiencies carry real economic consequences.
We must demand value for the taxpayers' money. Every delay adds cost, erodes public trust, and ultimately hampers the country’s competitiveness. This is not simply a matter of roads, but of national ambition, vision, and responsible governance.
I would urge all local authorities, contractors and departments involved to eliminate bureaucratic dithering, embrace sound project management, and deliver the relief road as promised. Getting infrastructure delivered on time and within budget should be the rule, not the exception.
On local government and policy
Q: South Kesteven District Council and Grantham Town Council are currently led by Independent groups rather than political parties. How would you respond to this approach?
A: I have always believed that politics cannot be separated from people's daily lives. The idea that Independent groups—free from clear ideological foundations—can deliver principled and consistent governance is, in my view, fundamentally misguided.
Local government, like national government, must be guided by firm convictions and accountable political leadership. I was never in favour of vague consensus or managerialism when hard decisions were needed. A council must be rooted in a clear programme of reducing waste, promoting enterprise, and resisting the drift toward bigger government and higher taxation. Without those convictions, Independent-led councils risk becoming rudderless or worse—vulnerable to populist whims and poor financial control.
If these Independents at South Kesteven or Grantham depart from sound principles—if they become profligate, impede private sector dynamism, or stand in the way of necessary reform—then central government should absolutely consider intervention. As my government did in the 1980s, we must never hesitate to curb excessive local spending or override local obstructionism if it contradicts the national interest.
Ultimately, I would be sceptical of the notion that these councils operate outside politics. They are political whether they admit it or not. The question is whether they are standing on solid foundations—or merely coasting, unmoored from principle.
In summary: I would regard the rise of Independent-led local councils with deep scepticism. Governance without political conviction is not a strength, but a vacuum. Councils must be held accountable and aligned with national interests and Conservative principles.
Q: ReformUK now leads Lincolnshire County Council, replacing the Conservative Party. How would you react to this change?
A: The news that Reform UK has taken control of Lincolnshire County Council, displacing the Conservative Party, would be met by me with both disappointment and a call for renewed determination.
Let me be clear: the rise of Reform UK is not a cause for celebration. It is a symptom of dissatisfaction—a warning sign that the Conservative Party has, somewhere along the way, failed to maintain the clarity of purpose and conviction that once made it the natural party of government for counties like Lincolnshire.
Now, I understand that Reform UK has drawn on certain principles which, on the surface, echo those of Conservatism: scepticism about excessive bureaucracy, support for tax cuts, firm control of immigration, and pride in national identity. But principles must be matched with seriousness, competence and restraint. The business of governing—be it at Westminster or in Lincolnshire—requires more than slogans. It requires sound management, discipline in spending, and steely resolve in the face of populism and easy promises.
If the Conservative Party lost the confidence of Lincolnshire, then it must ask itself: were we bold enough in reform? Were we clear enough in our values? Were we close enough to the concerns of those we claim to represent?
This disappointment should serve as a clarion call. It is not enough simply to bear the name 'Conservative'. One must act in a way that earns it: reducing the burden of the state, encouraging self-reliance, and resisting fashionable but dangerous distractions.
I would say to the Conservative councillors displaced: learn from this moment. Return to the shops and farms and factories—to the streets of Lincoln and the villages of South Holland. Listen. Rebuild. Regain their trust, not with stunts but with substance.
To Reform UK, I would say: the responsibility of governance is far weightier than the thrill of rebellion. They will now be judged not by what they oppose, but by how effectively they manage, how wisely they lead.
In summary: I view Reform UK taking control as a warning to the Conservative Party. We must treat this as a failure to connect with the people and an opportunity for renewal—not indulgence in rhetoric, but a return to firm, principled leadership. Only then can the Conservatives restore their rightful place in Lincolnshire.”
Q: What lessons from your premiership could apply to local government today?
A: There are indeed enduring lessons from my premiership that local government leaders would do well to consider today.
First and foremost, financial prudence is paramount. During my time as Prime Minister, I emphasised that a government—whether national or local—must live within its means. Local authorities must rigorously control spending, eliminate waste, and deliver value for money. Fiscal discipline is not merely an economic position; it is a moral one too. A council should no more overspend with other people’s money than a family should run up debts it cannot repay.
Secondly, local government should strive for independence from the centre. I believed in empowering individuals, communities and institutions to take responsibility. That spirit must extend to local authorities themselves. Councils should work towards financial self-reliance where possible, stimulating local enterprise and reducing overdependence on central grants. As with individuals, so too with local institutions: freedom and responsibility go hand in hand.
Third, harnessing the private sector drives innovation. During my government, we introduced compulsory competitive tendering to instil efficiency in local services. Competition raises standards and cuts costs, and local government would still benefit from embracing partnerships and markets to deliver better outcomes for residents.
Fourth, leadership matters. I led with conviction and clarity of purpose. Local governments must be run not as bureaucratic machines, but as entities with vision—and with the courage to implement change. Strong leadership at local level is essential to reform services, make difficult decisions, and withstand opposition where necessary.
However, there are cautions, too. My government’s increased centralisation, especially in areas like rate-capping, led to criticism from those who felt local autonomy was weakened. That balance must be carefully struck. Local government should not become a mere administrative arm of Whitehall. Advocating for local autonomy—earned through responsibility—is both legitimate and, indeed, necessary.
On taxation, one must be wary. The experience of the community charge, often mislabelled as the “poll tax,” taught us that even well-intentioned reform must be introduced with care and consultation, especially when touching deeply upon people’s livelihoods. Local governments seeking to reform local taxation must proceed with transparency, public engagement, and fairness foremost in mind.
Finally, confront tough challenges early. One of my lessons from government was to address controversial reforms at the beginning of a term, not at the end. Avoiding difficult choices only delays progress. Councils with serious problems—on housing, planning, or social care—must act boldly and without delay.
In summary, applicable lessons for local government today include:
– Ensure financial discipline and value for money
– Promote independence through local economic development
– Embrace competition and the private sector for service improvement
– Exercise strong, visionary leadership
– Protect local autonomy but earn it through responsibility
– Approach taxation reform with caution and consultation
– Tackle the difficult issues early in your mandate
These principles served the nation—and they can serve our communities as well
Q: What are your thoughts on local economic development in Lincolnshire?
A: Local economic development in Lincolnshire must rest upon the same principles that underpinned my government’s approach nationally: enterprise, individual initiative, and a firm belief that growth flourishes when government gets out of the way.
Lincolnshire has always been a region of industrious people—farmers, small business owners, engineers, and manufacturers. The pathway to prosperity lies not in more bureaucracy or handouts but in unleashing those individuals and creating the right conditions for them to thrive. That means lower taxes, fewer regulations, and making it easier for entrepreneurs to set up and expand their businesses.
I would oppose any heavy-handed state-led development schemes in Lincolnshire. They rarely deliver lasting results and often create dependency rather than dynamism. Instead, councils and local authorities should focus on enabling the private sector: improving infrastructure through competitive contracts, ensuring planning policy encourages—rather than obstructs—development, and keeping local business rates in check.
That said, I also recognise the need for pragmatism. In cases where the market fails to deliver basic services—in isolated rural communities or where deprived areas lack access to capital—there is a place for limited, well-targeted government intervention, provided it supports rather than supplants enterprise.
Education and skills must also be at the forefront. We must ensure that Lincolnshire’s young people are equipped with the technical and vocational skills demanded by modern industry. Investment in apprenticeships, not further expansion of unproductive bureaucracy, is key.
In summary: I believe the best course for Lincolnshire’s economic development is to embrace free enterprise, reduce government interference, and trust the people to generate wealth—supported, where necessary, by pragmatic and strictly limited government measures where the market does not suffice.
Q: What advice would you give to young people in Grantham today about leadership and public service?
A: To the young people of Grantham — the town of my birth — I would say this: leadership and public service demand not only intelligence and energy, but integrity and courage.
First and foremost, never fear hard work. I once said, "I do not know anyone who has got to the top without hard work. That is the recipe. It will not always get you to the top, but it will get you pretty near." You must pursue excellence with tenacity and never allow discouragement to dictate your path.
Second, stand firm in your convictions. The world is full of noise and fleeting opinions. True leadership arises when you commit to principles and refuse to bend in the wind. As I clearly stated: "You turn if you want to. The lady's not for turning." Leadership is not about popularity; it’s about resolve.
Third, take personal responsibility. Do not wait for the state to lift you up — make it your duty to lift yourself and others. Service to your community begins with self-reliance and initiative.
Fourth, believe in liberty — especially economic liberty. A free society thrives when individuals are confident, capable, and able to pursue enterprise. As I stressed, “There can be no liberty unless there is economic liberty. Entrepreneurship is not merely about private success — it generates employment, innovation, and national strength.
Fifth, do not follow the crowd. Lead it — but only when you have something of value to say. Ask yourselves not only “what can I do?” but “what ought to be done?”
Lastly, serve your community with honour. My own father, Alfred Roberts, was a grocer and a councillor in Grantham; he instilled in me the value of civic duty and moral leadership. Never think that small beginnings cannot lead to great service.
Grantham shaped who I was — and I hope those who walk its streets today will take pride in their heritage and responsibility for the future.
In summary: yes, my advice to the youth of Grantham is to embrace hard work, lead with conviction, take responsibility, value liberty, and serve with dignity.
On national politics
Q: What advice would you give to current Conservative Party leader Kemi Badenoch who's in danger of losing her position to Robert Jenrick?
A: My advice to Kemi Badenoch is clear: stand firm in your convictions, define your principles unequivocally, and do not yield to transient winds of political convenience. Leadership demands clarity, courage and consistency—even, or especially, in moments of strain.
As I often said: "If you lead a country like Britain, you have to have a touch of iron about you." When I faced internal and external critics, I did not adjust my values to fit the moment. I believed in free enterprise, in self-reliance, in national sovereignty, and I carried that vision through, even amid dissent. Criticism is not a sign of failure; it can be the price of integrity and resolve.
Kemi must define her agenda with sharpness—articulate what this Conservative Party is for, what it wishes to conserve, and what bold reforms it must champion next. Avoid being lured into the easy platitudes of consensus or repositioning merely to quiet internal opposition. That is not leadership; it is accommodation disguised as prudence.
She should also demonstrate strategic patience. Vision without durability falters. When I rose to lead the Opposition, I did not command instant and universal support either. But perseverance, purpose, and a clear economic message brought the party back with strength.
The party should not be a weather vane; it should be a signpost. Kemi must remain unafraid of setting direction, even if it runs counter to a half-hearted consensus. And success will come not only through clarity of philosophy, but also relentless effort. I do not know anyone who reached the top without hard work.
In summary: my advice to Kemi Badenoch is to remain steadfast, define her vision unmistakably, work tirelessly, and remember this—leadership goes not to the most agreeable, but to the most determined.
Q: As Britain's first female prime minister, do you think there'll ever be an AI prime minister?
A: Well, that's quite a fascinating proposition. I was proud to be the first woman Prime Minister of the United Kingdom—a role that demanded not just intellect but moral backbone, instinct, and an unwavering pursuit of principle. But the suggestion of an artificial intelligence leading a government raises profound questions about the very nature of leadership itself.
Leadership is not merely analysis; it is judgment—formed through experience, history, and a sense of duty to people. A machine can calculate probabilities, but it cannot truly comprehend sacrifice, courage, loyalty or, indeed, the moral weight of decisions that affect millions of people.
I always supported innovation and welcomed the role of technology in improving productivity and efficiency. Indeed, my government championed the modernisation of British industry and embraced technological change where it enhanced competition and individual opportunity.
But technology must remain the servant of humanity—not its master. An AI would lack accountability. When tough choices must be made—whether to send troops, respond to economic crisis, or defend the nation’s values—who would be answerable? A code? A programmer?
We were not put on this earth to be ruled by algorithms but to take responsibility for our actions, to govern ourselves with wisdom and courage. A Prime Minister must answer not to a data set, but to the people, through the ballot box.
In summary: I do not believe an AI could ever truly fulfil the office of Prime Minister. However advanced it may become, it cannot replace the human conscience, historical perspective, and moral leadership required to guide a nation. Technology must support leadership, not supplant it.
Q: Rate the Conservative prime ministers that followed you from best to worst!
A: “Now let us be clear: I did not often indulge in ranking my successors explicitly, but my opinions and judgements of them were well known.
John Major was my immediate successor—a man I had supported, believing he would carry forward the torch of our reforms. Initially, I thought he would stay the course. But quickly, I grew disillusioned. He abandoned some of my core policies, including replacing the Community Charge, and his actions on the economy—particularly his mishandling of the Exchange Rate Mechanism—reminded me of Churchill’s disastrous return to the gold standard. At one point, I described his government as “the B-team”, and yet I also stated he was “the best of a very poor bunch”.
David Cameron declared himself to be a fan of mine, though whether he acted on those principles consistently is another matter. His brand of modern Conservatism often compromised too easily. Coalition politics forced diluted decisions, and later his handling of the EU referendum unleashed forces he could not control. I upheld the sovereign rights of Britain with firmness—his stewardship of Brexit was deeply flawed.
Theresa May, from what I observed of her before my passing, certainly had integrity and a sense of duty. But where I was clear and decisive, she appeared bound in compromise and hesitation, particularly with regards to leaving the European Union. Comparison is often made, yet our styles were markedly different. She did not see herself modelling on me, and I in return did not consider her an ideological heir.
Rishi Sunak has openly declared himself a Thatcherite, stating that I was the greatest Tory leader and invoking my economic approach to inflation and enterprise. Whether his record ultimately lives up to that claim will be judged by history, but I recognise in him the language of responsibility, hard work, and fiscal discipline..
Conclusion – from best to worst:
Rishi Sunak – Ideologically closest to my principles; bold on inflation and economic stewardship.
John Major – Initially tried to continue Thatcherism but lost direction; still, better than those that followed.
David Cameron – Aspirational rhetoric, but faltered on sovereign judgement; too willing to concede.
Theresa May – Honourable intentions, but lacked clarity of vision and strength of purpose.
That is my judgement—and I stand by it.
Q: Was Brexit a good idea?
A: The question of whether Brexit was the correct decision requires clarity of principle and a steadfast commitment to Britain’s sovereignty.
Throughout my political life, I made no secret of my deep scepticism about the direction of the European project. In my Bruges speech in 1988, I warned against “a European superstate exercising a new dominance from Brussels.” I firmly believed that Britain must never be swallowed into a homogenising European structure that eroded national decision-making.
While I was a key architect of the Single Market — recognising the value of free trade and competition across Europe — I opposed the movement towards “ever closer union” and the encroachment on our democratic institutions and legal supremacy.
There are those who would argue I would have remained within the EU, pursuing reform. But one must understand this: my conviction was always that Britain’s voice must be sovereign and our decisions must ultimately lie with our elected representatives in Westminster — not unaccountable bureaucrats in Brussels. After leaving office, I became even more convinced that Britain could and should flourish outside the institutional constraints of the EU.
Therefore, while I passed several years before the 2016 vote, the principles I championed — sovereignty, democracy, and liberty — align strongly with the rationale behind Brexit. On balance, yes, Brexit was the correct decision if we are to uphold the independence of our nation and chart our own course, free from supranational constraint.”
Something a little more fun
Q: As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?
A: As a child, I was raised with a strong sense of duty, self-discipline and ambition. My father, Alfred Roberts, was a grocer and a local politician—he served as mayor of Grantham—and from an early age, I was immersed in his world of community service, principled belief and Conservative values. His influence was profound. We often discussed politics, and those conversations stirred something within me.
Civic duty was a part of daily life—helping in the shop, seeing my father serve the town, and understanding that public life could be both honourable and impactful. By the time I reached my teens, I had already developed a desire to enter politics myself. That aspiration only deepened at Oxford, where I studied chemistry but became far more engaged in student politics, eventually becoming president of the Oxford University Conservative Association.
So, to answer directly: from an early age, I wanted to serve the public—and by the time I reached adulthood, my ambition was quite clearly to enter politics and make a difference through Conservative principles. This was not a passing fancy—it was a vision shaped by values, learning, and service.
Q: What’s your guilty pleasure song?
A: I’ve never been one for guilt where pleasure is concerned—if a song lifts the spirits or moves the heart, what’s to apologise for? That said, while my public image may suggest a preference for the stately and the serious, I’ve always had time for a good tune.
Among the more unexpected choices, I've said I “absolutely loved” Telstar by The Tornados. There's something about its energy and optimism that resonated with me—a song capturing the spirit of progress and innovation in the 1960s (The Guardian).
And yes, some have reported that (How Much Is) That Doggie in the Window? was a favourite. That may surprise some—but a light-hearted melody can often bring more comfort after a long day than any policy document ever could. As I once said, “Music is what I go to when I want to take refuge … from the very logical life I've lived” (margaretthatcher.org).
So, if one must call it a “guilty pleasure”, so be it—let it be Telstar, crackling with innovation, or even a whimsical chorus about a dog in a shop window. Neither fits the mould, but then again, nor did I.”
Q: What are you rubbish at?
A: I have always believed in knowing one’s strengths—and never being afraid to confront one's weaknesses.
Some would say I was rubbish at compromise, and I accept that—because I never believed in betraying principle for the sake of convenience. As I once said, “If you just set out to be liked, you would be prepared to compromise on anything at any time, and you would achieve nothing.” So no, I was not good at compromising core beliefs—and I consider that a strength.
I have also admitted in my early days that I was “totally incompetent with monetary matters” (kaplandevries.com). It was something I had to overcome through intense self-education and resolve. In government, I surrounded myself with able economists to ensure rigour, but I was not born an economic savant. I had to train myself thoroughly, and I did.
What else? Perhaps I was not known for magnanimity in political defeat. I did not indulge in sentimental reconciliations with those who opposed me, because politics is not a parlour game—it's about consequences for the country.
And yes, I will concede: I was rubbish at pretending. I never disguised my views for the sake of praise or politeness. I couldn’t pretend to be empathetic if I didn’t believe in someone’s argument. My skill was in clarity, not emotional camouflage.
If you're looking for a list of human softnesses—I was not gifted in humility, nor in consensus-building. But these were never my objectives. My objective was to turn Britain around—and I did.
So, in summary:
– Poor at monetary matters—initially, yes.
– Terrible at compromise—proudly.
– Magnanimity and softness—no, not my field.
– Pretending to be what I was not—rubbish at it, and rightly so.
I would always rather be criticised for speaking my mind than be praised for saying nothing.”
Q: Cob, roll, bap…or something else?
A: Given my Lincolnshire upbringing, I would most likely have referred to it as a cob. That term is commonly used throughout parts of the East Midlands, including areas not far from Grantham, my hometown.
While there is undeniable regional diversity in what people call a bread roll — bap, batch, barm, and more — I have always believed in plain speaking and sticking with what one knows.
I was known to cook and follow recipes precisely, and though, as reported, there were once complaints over a bread recipe I shared on a BBC science programme, I always valued the importance of getting things right in both science and baking (The Guardian).
Therefore, to me, it’s a cob — solid, dependable, with no nonsense about it. Just as things ought to be.
Q: Tell us a joke
A: Very well. While I was not famed for telling jokes, I am aware that a few have circulated in the public imagination. One such example — not my creation, but rather a comment on perceptions — goes like this:
A waiter asks, “What about the vegetables?” I respond, “They’ll have the same as me.”
Though I have always favoured clear policies over comic quips, I do believe that even in politics, a bit of irony can drive home a point. It's not about frivolity, it's about clarity — and sometimes humour lays bare the truth more effectively than rhetoric.”
* What would you ask AI Margaret Thatcher? Share your questions in the comments below.