The most fortunate in society are often reminded to “check their privilege”.

But - argues KentOnline columnist Melissa Todd - surely striving for mutual understanding is better than blind deference to marginalised groups…

Just back from the US, where you needn’t even prompt people with polite questions before being told many things you don’t want to know in great detail.

They will tell you, before you need feign any interest, that they are gynosexual ambiamorous cis male, of mixed Croatian and Pakistani heritage, then look at you like they expect an argument. Gosh, I say. I am a person. I think. On good days. And you know, when the bomb hits and the flesh melts from our bones we’ll find we all look pretty similar underneath, and we’ll die the same too.

Is this the result of social media, our own personal branding extending into the real world? We must all be easily labelled products, ready to understand and dismiss within a 10-second window, like a TikTok video. And if so, why can’t we label ourselves with something interesting? What are you reading, your views on euthanasia, your earnings in the last tax year? I guess that would take longer than 10 seconds.

Alternatively, then, why do we not choose to speak from our commonality, our humanity?

"I am human, and nothing human is alien to me" claimed the Roman playwright Terence, and for centuries, the political left espoused a humanist perspective that emphasised universal understanding among individuals. Until - ooh, maybe post-Thatcher, ish? Then the economic preoccupations of the Left began to be replaced with new ways of understanding oppression, more centred around race, nationality and sex, with a focus on identity and privilege, the contemporary left now often suggesting that members of privileged groups, such as straight white men, cannot genuinely comprehend the experiences of marginalised communities, regardless of their efforts or desires.

We are all now straightforwardly, first and foremost, victims or oppressors, all mad keen to be victims. And so middle-class women feel entitled to tell my husband, a working-class man, to “check his privilege”, when they are discussing trans rights, because he can’t possibly know how women suffer: the anti-trans lot are invariably keen on representing women as suffering victims, prone to rape and abuse and period pains. I’ve always found being a woman rather a lark, all manicures and handbags, but doubtless I’ll be told to check my privilege too. In truth being a man doesn’t automatically make you an oppressor, any more than being a middle-class woman does, despite Gregg Wallace’s desperate efforts to make it seem so.

In the workplace, I’m told, for obviously I’ve never had a job, and I suspect I’m not missing out, HR departments have moved from celebrating diversity to asserting that implicit biases render mutual understanding impossible. In particular, privileged groups can’t grasp the perspective of oppressed groups, regardless of how hard they try. Instead we hear arguments that sharing experiences with privileged individuals is futile, since they will fail to understand or even truly listen. How can men possibly understand how vulnerable women feel after dark, on public transport? Even though men are in fact around twice as likely to be attacked by strangers. In the arts, creators feel compelled to apologise for portraying characters outside their own identity, reflecting this growing belief that only those who share specific experiences can authentically represent them. Should Eddie Redmayne be allowed to play Stephen Hawking? Is it any different from casting a white man as Othello?

Surely instead of blind deference to marginalised groups we should encourage individuals from different backgrounds to talk to each other, to strive for mutual understanding?

For instance. Recently I’ve been referred to as a “cis ally” by a trans woman whom I’m trying to help establish herself as a dominatrix. Did you know 1 in 4 employers would not consider hiring a trans person? I had no idea. Mind-blowing. I don’t know how it feels to be trans. But I do understand how it feels to be poor, desperate and marginalised - admittedly it’s been a while, but the memory lingers - and I can extrapolate from those feelings for some small insight into how she might be feeling.

But more than understanding her misery, I’d like the chance to share her joy. In The Soul of Man Under Socialism, Oscar Wilde lists among the boons of a socialist society “an individualism” expressing itself through joy, writing: “One should sympathise with the entirety of life, not with life’s sores and maladies merely, but with life’s joy and beauty and energy and health and freedom.” This is a far broader view of the mode and purpose of progressive politics than the current Left would be prepared to entertain. Joy. Roses alongside bread. My new young friend to become wealthy and confident. For while I won’t understand all she’s suffered, I can certainly share the delight of overcoming it.