My career has been shaped by a lifelong commitment to education, social justice, and children's rights.
My professional journey began in education, working with schools and communities in the United Kingdom and internationally, including projects in The Gambia and Senegal. I later founded an education charity in Samaná, creating partnerships between European teachers and Dominican schools to promote learning, skills exchange, and cultural understanding.
In recent years, my work has increasingly focused on children's human rights, advocating for the protection, dignity, and opportunities that every child deserves. Throughout my career, I have remained committed to ensuring that education and human rights work together to create lasting social change.
Politics: Cada loco con su tema!
During the early years of my involvement in politics and community service, I focused on grassroots engagement and building strong local connections. I began by volunteering in community initiatives in Trumpington, supporting local campaigns with the Libdems, and participating in neighbourhood improvement projects.
As a councillor I have been dealing quietly with many enquiries about personal issues in park maintenance, housing association and lastly domestic violence that have touched my heart. These experiences provided valuable insight into the challenges faced by residents and deepened my commitment to public service.
Through this work, I developed a practical understanding of civic processes, collaboration, and the importance of inclusive, community-driven decision-making.
In March 2026 I became a member of the Green Party. Read more about this is the Reflections section of my website.
Click here for the Green Party press release from Saturday 21st March 2026
Our Cambridge
Cambridge Is Changing – But Who Is It Changing For?
For centuries this city has welcomed scholars, researchers and entrepreneurs from across the world. That openness is part of the city’s identity. But the pace and direction of change over the past decade has raised an increasingly uncomfortable question: who exactly is Cambridge being planned for?
In recent years the city has seen an unprecedented surge in development. Laboratories, office complexes and hotels have spread rapidly across the city, driven by the extraordinary global success of the ecosystem around the University of Cambridge. The so-called “knowledge economy” has brought investment, jobs and international attention but alongside this success something else has been happening - something many residents now recognise in their everyday lives.
The centre of Cambridge is slowly becoming hollowed out. Independent shops and everyday services have disappeared, replaced by short-stay accommodation, hotels and commercial developments catering primarily to visitors, investors and the global research economy. Housing costs continue to climb beyond the reach of many local people. More and more residents feel they are being quietly pushed further from the heart of their own city.
This is not an accident. It is the result of planning choices made over the past decade, choices that have consistently prioritised rapid commercial expansion and headline development numbers over the long-term wellbeing of communities.
Nowhere is this clearer than in places like Trumpington. Thousands of homes have been built there as part of Cambridge’s expansion. Yet residents continue to face oversubscribed schools, GP surgeries under enormous strain, transport links that struggle to cope, and local services that arrived years after the homes themselves.
Many residents have also reported concerns about build quality in some developments, discovering defects and construction problems far too soon after moving in. This is what happens when housing delivery is treated as a numbers game rather than the careful creation of sustainable neighbourhoods.
And now the government is proposing a centrally led development corporation that could accelerate the delivery of tens of thousands more homes across Greater Cambridge. What is striking is the silence from the Labour administration that leads Cambridge City Council.
This is a moment when local leaders should be standing up for the communities they represent. Instead, residents are seeing hesitation, caution and in many cases, an unwillingness to challenge proposals coming from their own party in Westminster.
The uncomfortable truth is that too often political loyalty appears to come before the interests of the people who live here. Cambridge deserves better than that.
When major decisions about the future of our city are being discussed, decisions that could reshape Cambridge for decades, residents expect their local leaders to speak clearly, defend local democracy and demand the infrastructure and services that communities need. Instead, there is a growing perception that party colours are being protected more carefully than the wellbeing of the city itself.
Cambridge’s success was never just about laboratories, investment funds or global tech companies. It was built on the strength of its communities: the families, workers and long-term residents who created the social fabric of the city. Growth should support those communities, not sideline them.
If Cambridge continues down a path where development is driven primarily by the demands of the global economy, while those who already live here struggle with rising costs and overstretched services, then the city risks losing something far more valuable than any investment it might gain.
The real test of leadership now is simple: will those in power stand up for the people of Cambridge, or will they continue to stand quietly behind decisions made elsewhere?
Reflections
15th August 2026
Professor Jason Arday
For many of us, racism, scrutiny and misjudgement are not abstract concepts. We become accustomed to being questioned more closely, judged more harshly and misunderstood more readily. If you happen to be from a minority ethnic background, disabled, or simply do not fit the image an institution expects, the scrutiny can become even greater, as though there must be something wrong with you that needs to be explained.
I write this reflection not only as an observer, but as someone of multiple heritage who has lived and studied in four different countries. Moving between different societies has taught me that prejudice does not always look the same, but the experience of being categorised before being understood can be remarkably similar. It has also made me question the assumptions we make about identity, nationality, education and belonging.
In France and Spain, I experienced situations where civil servants' employees appeared to make assumptions about my level of education before properly understanding my qualifications or experience. Seven years ago, while studying in Norway, I experienced another form of categorisation. Because of the colour of my skin, I was treated by some people as though I could not possibly be European. I remember how painfully difficult that was to accept. There is something deeply unsettling about having your identity questioned by someone who has already decided who you are. These experiences have stayed with me because they demonstrate how quickly a person can become a category rather than an individual.
Professor Arday's death has made me reflect deeply on the consequences of scrutiny, misjudgement and the way Black academics can be perceived and treated. I do not believe we should rush to conclusions about the circumstances of his death. But we should be willing to ask an uncomfortable question: when does scrutiny cease to be accountability and become prejudice? This question matters because scrutiny is not always experienced equally. For some people, scrutiny is simply due diligence. For others, it can feel like being permanently placed on trial: every qualification questioned, every achievement examined, every mistake magnified and every explanation treated with suspicion.
The contradiction becomes particularly visible when we consider equality and diversity policies. Such policies may look good on paper, but their value is limited if institutions and employers fail to translate those principles into fair access to employment, progression and recognition.
Application forms routinely ask people to provide information about their ethnicity. We are told that this information is collected to monitor equality and identify disadvantages. But many of us understandably ask what happens to that information afterwards. Does it genuinely influence institutional practice, or does it simply become another statistic in an archived report?
The evidence from Cambridge City Council provides an important example. In March 2020, 7.54% of its 827 employees declared themselves from an ethnic minority background, the figure was considerably higher in 2025. But that figure does not tell us their levels of seniority, pay or representation within leadership. To be fair, Cambridge City Council did take steps following the Black Lives Matter movement. In July 2020, councillors supported a motion recognising concerns about racism and committed to actions around recruitment, representation, equality training and engagement with local ethnic minority communities. However, as a councillor sitting on the Equality Panel, I did not see the fundamental changes I had hoped for over the following four years. The commitments were there, but the question remains whether they translated into meaningful and lasting change in the lived experiences of Black and Brown residents and employees. Those commitments matter. But a motion is not the same as transformation. A policy is not the same as lived equality. The real test is whether people from minority backgrounds are actually being recruited, promoted and represented at every level of an institution.
An institution can celebrate diversity in principle while reproducing inequality in practice. The real test of equality is not what an organisation says about diversity, but whom it chooses to recognise and employ.
There is another contradiction we need to confront: the way immigration itself can be racialised. A person from Germany or Denmark moving to Britain for economic opportunities may be described as a European professional or simply someone who has moved here. A person from Africa, Asia or the Caribbean doing essentially the same thing can much more quickly be labelled an immigrant or a foreigner.
We should also be fair enough to acknowledge that prejudice does not operate only through skin colour. It can intersect with nationality, class, wealth and perceived economic value. A wealthy person from a powerful country may receive a very different welcome from a poorer person from the “South”. Some politicians are openly racist in the way they speak about migration, while at other times the distinction between who is considered desirable and who is considered a problem is much more subtle.
Having lived and studied in four countries, I have learned that belonging cannot simply be determined by the colour of someone's skin, their country of birth or the accent they speak with. Identity is far more complicated than the categories institutions sometimes place upon us. Perhaps the greatest injustice is not simply to misjudge a person, but to become so certain of our judgement that we cease to see the human being behind it.
Professor Arday's death should therefore make us pause. Accountability matters. Academic standards matter. Institutions have a responsibility to investigate concerns fairly. But fairness must mean the same thing for everyone. We cannot demand rigorous scrutiny from some people while allowing assumptions, stereotypes and racial prejudice to shape the way we scrutinise others.
Perhaps the lesson is simple: before we judge a person's qualifications, identity or belonging, we must first recognise their humanity. Without that, equality and diversity remain words on paper rather than principles lived in practice.
3rd June 2026
I Only Know That I Know Nothing
As Socrates famously said, "I only know that I know nothing." Looking at politics today, it is difficult not to understand why.
Voters are often asked to believe one thing before an election and something quite different afterwards. Parties that spend years criticising one another, highlighting their differences and presenting themselves as political opposites can suddenly find common ground when power is at stake. To many residents, this creates a sense of perplexity. How can two parties that claimed to disagree on so much now work together so comfortably? Is it a triumph of pragmatism, or simply the reality that political survival often matters more than political principle?
For many people, these arrangements reinforce a growing suspicion that politics is less about conviction and more about power. Opponents become partners, criticisms are quietly forgotten, and issues that once seemed urgent lose their importance. It is this gap between what is said in opposition and what is done in government that fuels public distrust and leaves many questioning what politicians truly believe.
Political dissatisfaction is not simply about politicians making promises at election time and failing to deliver. It runs much deeper. It is about people feeling unheard and increasingly believing that those elected to represent them no longer understand their lives. Too often, the issues affecting local communities are understood better by neighbours and residents than by the politicians who claim to speak on their behalf.
Recent history provides plenty of examples. During the pandemic, many people experienced isolation, loss and grief on a scale they had never known before. Decisions were made by politicians who often seemed detached from the realities faced by ordinary families. Those making the rules did not always experience the loneliness of saying goodbye to loved ones under restrictions, nor did they necessarily understand the emotional toll those decisions carried.
Similarly, many people still remember the Liberal Democrats' pledge on university tuition fees and the sense of betrayal felt when that promise was abandoned. For those burdened by student debt, it became a powerful reminder that political promises can disappear remarkably quickly when power becomes available.
There is also a harder truth. For some politicians, politics can appear to be a career first and a calling second. Genuine commitment to residents' interests can often feel secondary to personal ambition, visibility and advancement. During my early years in politics, I witnessed this first-hand. Councillors, candidates and activists would enthusiastically champion an issue while public attention focused upon it, only to lose interest once the spotlight moved elsewhere. They would claim to be fighting for change, but their commitment often faded as soon as the headlines did. It was deeply disappointing, and it was not confined to one party. The behaviour existed across the political spectrum.
This helps explain why, while canvassing in Trumpington recently, one resident responded to a conversation with a simple question: "What for? You're all the same."
It was not said with anger, but with exhaustion and certainty. That is not apathy. It is disillusionment.
People have watched the same patterns repeat themselves too many times. Election leaflets filled with attacks on opponents, misleading charts and exaggerated claims bear little resemblance to everyday life. They merge into a single hollow message that becomes increasingly easy to ignore and increasingly difficult to trust.
That distrust is amplified by financial pressures. Since the pandemic, the cost of living has risen sharply. Energy bills, food prices and everyday essentials have become more expensive. Households feel the impact every week. For many residents in Cambridge, this is not an abstract economic discussion; it is daily reality. It means cutting back, going without and rethinking even the simplest routines.
One resident recently put it in a way that has stayed with me: "When I was young, every Sunday meant a roast dinner. Today, for many families, it means minced beef and boiled potatoes."
It sounds like a simple observation, almost nostalgic, but it captures something much deeper. What was once ordinary now feels increasingly difficult to afford. Even the small comforts and traditions that people once took for granted can feel out of reach.
People do not disengage from politics because they do not care. They disengage because they no longer believe that politics will deliver for them. When residents ask, "What's in it for me?", particularly older residents who have heard decades of promises, they are expressing something deeper: a feeling of being overlooked, of commitments made but never fulfilled.
Politics, like that Sunday meal, was supposed to provide something meaningful: security, stability and a sense that life was moving forward. For many, it now feels diminished. The substance is gone. The care is missing. The follow-through never arrives.
This can also be seen locally. For years, the Liberal Democrats criticised Labour's decisions, presenting themselves as the alternative and speaking out on issues such as public services, local facilities and council priorities. Yet once the opportunity arose to enter administration with Labour, those criticisms appeared to fade remarkably quickly. Suddenly, concerns that once featured prominently in opposition became less urgent.
The closure of public toilets, which previously attracted criticism and campaigning, appears to matter far less now that both parties share responsibility for running the council. Questions about council leadership salaries and senior allowances likewise seem to attract less scrutiny. The issues themselves have not disappeared; what has changed is who now holds power.
That is the challenge with politics. Opposition is easy. Governing is harder. But when parties spend years criticising decisions only to defend, ignore or accept similar decisions once they enter administration, residents inevitably begin to question whether principles matter as much as power.
The Liberal Democrats and Labour may argue that working together is necessary for effective administration. Yet for many residents, it looks like another example of politics operating according to its own interests rather than theirs. The pursuit of office can appear more important than the promises made along the way.
And that is why trust is so difficult to rebuild once it is lost. People can accept difficult decisions when they believe those making them are acting honestly and consistently. What they struggle to accept is seeing one set of rules for opposition and another for government.
Perhaps that is why Socrates' words remain relevant today. The more we observe politics, the more we realise how little certainty exists behind the confident slogans and campaign promises. We are told that change is coming, that things will be different, that this time will be better.
Yet for many people sitting down to their Sunday dinner, looking at how much less they have than before, those promises feel increasingly difficult to believe.
In the end, perhaps the greatest political lesson is not certainty but scepticism. Not cynicism, but a willingness to question, to examine actions rather than words, and to judge politicians not by what they promise before an election but by what they do afterwards. For if there is one thing modern politics continually teaches us, it is that certainty is often the first casualty of power.
22nd March 2026
Reflection on leaving the Liberal Democrats: Je ne regrette rien
Over recent months, I have taken time to reflect carefully on my role in public service and the values that guide my work as a councillor. This period of reflection has led me to a difficult but ultimately necessary decision: to leave the Liberal Democrats and join the Green Party.
This was not a decision made lightly. My years serving as a City Councillor for Trumpington under the Liberal Democrat banner were deeply meaningful to me. I was first drawn into politics during the period surrounding Brexit, motivated by a desire to stand up for the rights and security of European citizens living in the UK. At that time, I felt strongly that the Liberal Democrats played an important role in advocating for those communities and defending their place in British society. That sense of purpose shaped my decision to enter public life.
I am also deeply grateful for the support and mentorship I received during my first year as a councillor. Several colleagues gave generously of their time and experience, helping me to navigate the responsibilities of the role and better understand how to serve residents effectively. Their guidance played an important part in my development, and I remain appreciative of the encouragement and trust they showed me early on.
However, over the last year and a half, I have at times felt that expressing myself fully and advocating for certain issues has been more challenging than I would have hoped, which has led to a degree of reflection about my role. A central part of this reflection has also been my growing frustration with outcomes at county level, where the Liberal Democrats have been in leadership. Too often, I have seen persistent issues left unresolved—most notably the deteriorating condition of roads, including widespread potholes, and the continued shortcomings in the provision of Special Educational Needs (SEN) support. For many in our community, this has translated into real, everyday difficulties, and I have found it increasingly hard to reconcile these outcomes with the level of service and accountability residents rightly expect.
There were also moments where I felt unable to speak openly on matters I believed were important. Issues such as the pressures created by rapid local development, ongoing concerns about community safety, and humanitarian matters, including the suffering of people in Gaza, weighed heavily on me, especially because, locally, the party often chose gestures that risked appearing symbolic rather than substantive. Not being able to fully voice or act on these concerns made it increasingly difficult to align my role with the expectations and needs of residents.
Another key element in my decision has been the importance of working within a political environment that genuinely embraces inclusiveness. Effective public service depends on openness, collaboration, and ensuring that diverse perspectives are not only welcomed but actively heard. In a city like Cambridge, where communities are varied and constantly evolving, representation must reflect that diversity in a meaningful way.
I came to feel that remaining within my previous party limited my ability to contribute to that kind of inclusive and responsive political culture. In contrast, I believe the Green Party provides a space that is more aligned with these values. Ultimately, this decision reflects my desire to serve residents more effectively and to work within a framework that allows me to speak openly, act with integrity, and pursue the issues that matter most to our community. While leaving the Liberal Democrats has been accompanied by a sense of sadness, it has also been guided by a clear commitment to doing what I believe is right for the people I represent.
My commitment to residents of Trumpington remains unchanged. This reflection is not about stepping away from responsibility, but about ensuring that I can fulfil it more fully.
2nd February 2026
Trumpington Calls for Fair and Transparent Ward-Level Funding
Trumpington residents are urging Cambridge City Council to ensure that local budgets reflect the needs of growing communities. While housing delivery remains a priority, uncertainty continues over how funding will support essential infrastructure in our ward.
Cambridge has delivered thousands of social housing and is recognised for building at scale. However, homes alone do not create liveable communities. In Trumpington, residents have waited over eleven years for basic infrastructure, and current expansion, including Addenbrooke’s Hospital, the Biomedical Campus, and Cambridge South Station is outpacing investment.
Congestion, pressure on public services, and delayed transport improvements are daily realities for our community. While Addenbrooke’s is a nationally significant facility, the effects of its growth are felt locally. Trumpington deserves fair and timely investment to ensure that housing, transport, and community infrastructure create a sustainable and liveable environment for all residents.
Residents believe that the Council’s recent reorganisation presents an opportunity for a long-overdue improvement: budgets defined clearly by ward. Transparent, ward-level budgeting would allow communities like Trumpington to see exactly how annual funding will impact local services, infrastructure, and quality of life.
10th December 2025
Trumpington’s Meadows Housing Promises: Sustainability and Community That Never Arrived
Trumpington, Cambridge’s largest ward, has been transformed by major housing developments like Trumpington Meadows and Clay Farm. Trumpington Meadows was marketed as sustainable, energy-efficient homes with lower bills and a reduced carbon footprint, the reality falls far short. Residents live in poorly insulated homes with shallow walls, inadequate heating, and storage sheds too small even for a child’s bicycle. Solar panels deliver little benefit, and the overall quality of construction has been repeatedly questioned.
The low standards extend beyond homes. The local surgery, meant to serve the growing community, suffers persistent construction flaws, with repairs still ongoing years after opening. Complaints from residents have been passed around between the council, the developer, and the housing association (BPHA), each blaming the others. Meanwhile, the problems remain unresolved.
Barratt Homes promised a “connected” community with identity, purpose, and shared facilities such as allotments, fitness areas, and communal dining. Reality? Only the allotments exist, serving about 15 residents. Fitness facilities never appeared, and communal dining was reduced to two benches in the Country Park, managed by the Wildlife Trust. Hardly the thriving hub of community life that was promised in 2004.
Electrified vehicle charging, a supposed environmental benefit, was reserved for homes over £500,000, leaving Housing Association residents stuck with petrol and diesel. “Last-mile” pollution reduction never happened; residents still drive to Waitrose. Inclusive outdoor spaces, meant to encourage community interaction, have been abandoned as overgrown, unusable patches, misunderstood in design and neglected in practice.
The promises of Trumpington’s developments, sustainability, connectivity, and community, have largely evaporated. What remains is a landscape of low-quality construction, ongoing repair issues, and amenities that barely exist.
On paper, these housing projects look green and progressive, but in reality, residents are left to navigate broken promises and a system that shifts blame while problems persist.
30th September 2025
Gaza: A Reflection of 21st Century Failure
The ongoing assault on Gaza is not merely a regional conflict; it is a testament to the moral and political failures of the 21st century. What is happening on the ground, a systematic targeting of civilian populations, destruction of essential infrastructure, and the mass displacement of families has led many human rights organizations to describe the situation as tantamount to genocide. Yet, the world watches, largely immobilised by political calculations, strategic alliances, and bureaucratic inertia.
My deepest disappointment also lies in the UK government’s stance on the tragedy unfolding in Gaza, a stance that has shaken the moral compass of many who value human rights and international justice. Domestically, the UK has criminalised peaceful demonstrations in solidarity with Palestinians, sending a chilling message that dissent against state-aligned foreign policy will not be tolerated. Internationally, it has failed to exert meaningful pressure on parties responsible for attacks on civilians, prioritizing geopolitical alliances over moral accountability. This dual failure, suppressing public advocacy at home while abstaining from principled intervention abroad represents a stark erosion of democratic and humanitarian values.
This failure is not isolated. The broader international community has largely treated Gaza’s suffering as a distant crisis, issuing statements of concern while allowing violations of international law to continue unchecked. Resolutions are delayed or diluted, accountability mechanisms ignored, and the rhetoric of “both sides” often masks the asymmetry of power and the reality of civilian suffering. In this silence and inaction, the world bears collective responsibility for the perpetuation of violence.
In contrast, Spain has charted a markedly different course. Its government has openly condemned violations in Gaza, emphasized adherence to international law, and supported humanitarian relief efforts. Spain’s approach demonstrates that political courage and moral clarity are possible even amid complex international dynamics. By taking a principled stance, Spain asserts that defending human rights is not a matter of convenience but of obligation, a reminder that governments can act to protect the vulnerable without compromising strategic interests.
The juxtaposition is stark and instructive: while the UK and much of the international community prioritise realpolitik and suppress civic advocacy, Spain exemplifies the ethical imperative of action over passivity. Gaza is not only a site of humanitarian catastrophe, it is a mirror reflecting global failure, revealing the ease with which political expediency can eclipse justice, and the price civilians pay for that abdication of responsibility.
The 21st century risks being defined not by progress or human rights victories, but by the collective silence and complicity of those empowered to act.