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Digital
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5 min read

The five reasons I go on GB News

Engaging is not endorsing, joining the dialogue prepares ways to peace.

Krish is a social entrepreneur partnering across civil society, faith communities, government and philanthropy. He founded The Sanctuary Foundation.

A TV news show panel discussion.
Krish Kandiah, right, debates the news.

GB News is no stranger to controversy. Since its launch in 2021, the channel—claiming to be the UK’s fastest-growing digital news outlet—has seen its live viewing figures rival those of Sky News. Yet, it has faced significant criticism. GB News has been accused of poisoning public discourse with its unapologetically anti-woke, and, many would argue, anti-immigrant editorial stance. Ofcom has investigated the channel for numerous impartiality breaches, issuing fines totalling £100,000 last year. Additional backlash has arisen over serving MPs, such as Jacob Rees-Mogg (before he lost his seat), and Nigel Farage of the Reform Party being paid to host programmes. The firing of Laurence Fox after his obscene and misogynistic on-air comments further fuelled public outrage—ironically also boosting the channel’s viewership. 

For the past year, I have regularly appeared on GB News, often to provide alternative perspectives on issues ranging from immigration to child welfare to slavery reparations. Some accuse me of selling out, of being unnecessarily political, or of lending credibility to a platform that often contradicts my Christian values. Yet I continue to accept these invitations, and here’s why.

Build bridges, not walls 

Peacemaking—the work I believe all Christians are called to by Jesus —is not passive. It requires engagement, courage, and humility. Being a peacemaker means stepping into uncomfortable spaces to foster dialogue, not retreating to the safety of ideological agreement. My faith compels me to bridge divides, treating even my most vocal opponents with respect, seeking common ground where possible, and disagreeing graciously when it isn’t. 

After one particularly heated debate on immigration, an opponent approached me off-air, saying, “We might disagree on almost everything, but I do appreciate your tone. If I had to hear devastating news, I’d want it to come from you.” Moments like these remind me that tone matters as much as content. Civility can be disarming, and small gestures of respect—even in disagreement—can create openings for deeper understanding. By showing up and articulating my views with, I hope, humility, I aim to challenge stereotypes, broaden perspectives, and build bridges toward peace. 

Break down ideological silos 

In an increasingly polarized world, echo chambers dominate. Thanks to AI algorithms that amplify our biases, many of us are surrounded by voices that mirror our own, while opposing views are dismissed or demonized. Appearing on GB News is one way I seek to counteract this dynamic. If I can present a thoughtful counterargument, even if it doesn’t immediately change minds, I hope to foster a culture where differing perspectives are heard rather than ignored. 

The Apostle Paul provides me with a compelling model for engaging in controversial spaces. Often facing hostility in synagogues where he was hoping for a receptive audience, Paul, at great personal cost and to much criticism, took his message to marketplaces, rural villages, and intellectual hubs like the Areopagus. His example reminds me that Jesus’ teachings are meant for everyone, not just those predisposed to agree.  

Model constructive politics 

For me, public debates are an opportunity to demonstrate that politics can be constructive. Too often, political discourse devolves into shouting matches, with each side entrenched in their positions. This approach benefits no one. I aim to model a different kind of engagement—one where disagreements are expressed respectfully, and common ground is sought. It’s not always easy, I have had many an encounter where I was shouted at, sworn out or dismissed, with one lady who was particularly aggressive and patronising. It is frustrating, to say the least, however these opponents help, I believe, in demonstrating the importance and value of being calm, measured and respectful.  

At its best, politics should be about collaboration for the benefit of the marginalized, not division at their expense. If, by God’s grace, I can contribute even a small measure of this spirit to public life, I consider it meaningful.  

Speak for those who can’t 

One of the main reasons I accept invitations to speak on GB News is to amplify the voices of those who might otherwise be overlooked. When I speak on issues such as immigration or child welfare, I do so not to simply promote my own perspective but to represent those whose stories are often ignored or distorted. The view of immigration espoused often on GB News is one which believes migrants to be a drain on our society. There is another viewpoint – they can enrich and benefit our society now as they have done in the past. Not only that, we all benefit when we live in a country marked by justice, generosity, respect, tolerance, liberty and compassion. 

Learn the language of engagement 

Appearing on platforms like GB News is a bit like learning a new language. Just as time spent in a foreign country deepens cultural understanding and fosters more meaningful conversation, so engaging with different media platforms, for me, broadens my perspective and sharpens my ability to articulate my faith, message and values in ways that resonate. Whether I am addressing audiences in Westminster, or through GB News, or in churches, or via Seen & Unseen, I aim to offer my opinions, values and expertise humbly, with integrity and relevance, recognising that I am on a learning journey.

A work in progress 

I don’t always get it right. Sometimes I fail to speak clearly enough. Other times, I fall short of speaking kindly enough. Balancing passion and grace, reaction and response, and raising my voice while also giving others a voice is a constant challenge.  

I strive to follow the example of Jesus—both gentle and firm. He was patient and gracious with his often-misunderstanding disciples, yet unafraid to show righteous anger when necessary, such as when he drove the money-spinners from the temple. In prayer, I lean on Jesus in prayer, recognising that I cannot change hearts and minds on my own.  

For me, engaging with GB News is not about endorsement; it’s about dialogue. It’s not about proselytizing, or politics, it’s about preparing a way for peace. It’s about building bridges, offering hope, and fostering understanding across divides. I hope that others will join me in this vital task so that together we can sing a song of hope, not just to the choir, but to everyone else who needs to hear it too. 

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Article
Comment
Leading
Politics
4 min read

Covid inquiry: Johnson, Cummings, and the cost of refusing to grieve

The report exposes mistakes, but our real challenge is learning how to face loss without denial

Jonah Horne is a priest, living and working in Devon.

Boris Johnson sits, giving evidence to an inquiry.
Boris Johnson giving evidence to the inquiry.
UK Covid-19 Inquiry.

I distinctly remember the sheer confusion of January to March 2020. Should we flee our flat in London? Should we cancel the lease on our workspace? Will I be able to continue breakfast with my friend on Thursday mornings? I ignorantly scoffed that a lockdown could conceivably take place and then, stood devastatingly corrected only a few months later. However, the UK Covid-19 Inquiry reveals that this ignorance induced confusion was not restricted to the personal level but instead enacted on a national stage. 

What’s glaringly obvious as you read the recommendations is that the government acted too slowly and too indecisively. If the initial restrictions been introduced sooner, say in January or February, the first lockdown “might have been shorter or not necessary at all.” This, the report suggests, could have saved approximately 23,000 lives. Brenda Doherty, of the Covid-19 Bereaved Families for Justice group, believes her mother could have been one of these. Instead, she and her sister stood by her graveside in March 2020 as her family members waited a few metres back sectioned off by red tape. The report and accompanying evidence call for sombre reading. 

In response, those in charge at the time have understandably launched an attack in their own defence. Boris Johnson has labelled the inquiry "totally muddled,” which ironically sounds like the informal conclusion of his leadership in the report. Similarly, Dominic Cummings has hurled a 2,000-word response into the social media stratosphere, which feels almost as long as the 800-page paper itself. 

What seems glaringly obvious about both men’s responses is the very thing Brenda Doherty displays with such elegance: grief. There is, in these men’s retorts, a stunning omission of any sense of responsibility or indeed any willingness to admit defeat. And what frightens me most, as we look towards the future, is our refusal to grieve over the things of the past. The threat on Europe from Russia is growing. AI’s disruption on our workforce seems to be being enthusiastically brushed aside. And another, potentially much more violent, pandemic is unsettlingly likely. 

However, in the face of these disruptive forces grief is a remarkably generative power. Without grief we remain, much like Johnson and Cummings, frozen in time. Immovable in our ineptitude and ignorance. Grief, I’d argue, is the very thing that enables us to recognise our shortcomings and, when mixed with hope, energises us towards a future which lies on the other side of sorrow. Yet, when we exist in a place of fragility, the idea of imagining that life lies beyond my incompetency, if only I grieve it, is frightening. Devastatingly though, for us humans, this may be the only way to learn and move forward.  

Our future and redemption is undeniably bound up in our ability to grieve. Grief is inherently futural. By grieving our ineptitude, we inevitably witness to the places that require growth, mercy and grace. When we fail to grieve, we remain frozen in time—precariously hiding behind the illusion of our infallibility. This is a deeply fragile state. From this position, any assault or critique on our mistakes becomes a personal attack rather than invitation to redemption. We find ourselves lashing out in fear, terrified of being exposed. Johnson and Cummings embody this predicament to a tee.  

This situation however is not unique to the Covid iquiry and our late-prime minister’s response. Another character who lashes out in fear is St Peter, one of Jesus’s friends and disciples. There is a rather poetic story that illustrated this at the end of John’s gospel in the New Testament. One of Jesus’s friends Peter rejects him as he’s taken to be murdered. Peter attacks a guard, cuts his ear off and Jesus famously disarms him and heals the man. Moments later, Jesus is taken, Peter flees and we find him standing in a courtyard, by a fire and where claims not to know his friend and master Jesus. To make matters worse, he rejects him not once, but three times. However, when Jesus returns from the grave, he meets Peter again, at a fireside on a beach, and asks him “do you love me?” Not once but three times. The thing that I think is particularly remarkable about this meeting is that Jesus recognises Peter’s future in bound up in the redemption of his past mistakes. Jesus takes Peter to the place of failure, a fireside, and gives him an opportunity to declare his allegiance and love for him, the same amount of times he had rejected him. He reminded him of his wound to heal him for his future.  

If we are to take seriously our response to the Covid-19 inquiry, we must take responsibility for our errors. Not begrudgingly but with a grace filled grief. Our future, one that is filled with hope, does not come to us without a confession of past errors. Instead, a hopeful future may only come to us when we confess, recognise and grieve our mistakes. Indeed, to freely grieve over my failures is to grieve believing in life beyond my defeat. 

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