I've been thinking a lot about implicit bias lately. Implicit bias affects all of us in all sorts of ways - and I don't mean just on race at all. I mean in *everything*, especially on here.

My implicit bias leads me to assume that Starmer's approach will change step by step.

But I don't *know* that it will. How could I?

Others' implicit bias - based on lived experience - leads them to assume that Starmer's approach won't change at all. That he's just another Blairite. That we've been here before.

And that's based very considerably on their experience: of lying politicians; of the working class being betrayed; of broken promises.

Experience, ultimately, is what informs all of us. You know that phrase "you can't love someone else until you love yourself first?"

It's nonsense. You know why? Because how does someone with no experience of being loved somehow love themselves regardless?

Human beings need love like plants need light. And in the case of pain or betrayal, scar tissue grows on the inside - and affects us going forwards.

Many of us are affected by trauma. Especially so on the left. It's the experience of our own suffering of one kind or another which then leads us to empathise with others who are suffering.

In my own case, how has that panned out?

I don't want to go into much detail here - first time for everything! - but I grew up with a very, very toxic man for a father. He himself was the victim of a childhood which profoundly lacked any kind of emotional support - and his experience meant he passed it down to his kids.

It's no exaggeration to say that I had zero positive male role models while growing up. None at all. Both my grandfathers were already dead; my father modelled all the wrong kinds of behaviour.

And from a very early age, I knew it was wrong. Very wrong.

My grandmother said that when I was 4, if someone else was upset, my eyes would fill with tears. I'd get much more upset about their pain than I would about my own: almost pathologically so.

That lack of positive male role models then meant I kinda took it upon myself to be one.

To a quite absurd extent. Someone I used to know at school says that between 9 and 11, I was "like an adult in a child's body". It is certainly true to say that from age 9 or so, I didn't have a childhood. I was completely focused on helping others: especially women.

As my father wasn't (was incapable of) providing emotional support, I did so instead. Constantly towards my siblings and mother. Never towards myself: nobody taught me I was important too.

Anyway: the reason for this personal detour is as follows.

The forces which shaped me means my implicit bias is: towards women. Always has been, probably always will be. I made it my mission in life not to be like my father. I succeeded in that - but took it too far in many ways.

Some years back, a friend gently pointed out to me that in seeking - unconsciously or otherwise - to 'protect women', I was actually patronising them. Infantilising them, even. However well-intentioned it was; however much it was better than treating them badly.

Her point was: actual equality requires not doing that. That's why some women get offended if a man holds the door open for them. The man means totally well - it's a nice thing to do - but not everyone will respond positively to it. Partly because of their own lived experience.

My lived experience means I recognise toxic male behaviour very fast. It makes me wince. But it may well also be biasing me when it comes to the whole debate around trans rights. I apologise for that: even though again, I mean well.

By 'bias', I mean: I'm listening to women who are very worried BEFORE I listen to trans people. That's wrong. I shouldn't be doing that.

And I also shouldn't stupidly be posting a photo of something, the details of which I hadn't checked out first.

Thankyou to all those who pointed that out yesterday. It was an innocent mistake - but one I shouldn't have made.

But the broader problem is, again, of how lived experience is bound to affect everyone's views in one direction or another.

Women who've experienced abuse, violence or just toxic behaviour are *bound* to be concerned, worried, frightened, if they feel their safe spaces are being taken away or their right to define themselves as women is being affected at all.

Trans people who've experienced abuse, violence or just toxic behaviour are also *bound* to be concerned, worried, frightened, if they feel their rights are being ignored. If they feel that others want to stop them enjoying the same equality which is a human right for all of us.

On here, we're all people behind a screen. We all have our own backgrounds, baggage and biases; we're all complicated; we're all hypocrites too.

Very often, trauma itself is the reason for anger. For rage. That sense of powerlessness expresses itself in fury.

I mean: don't take this the wrong way folks, but: https://twitter.com/FelicityMorse/status/1091061867693441024

In fact, even Donald Trump's behaviour is almost certainly based on childhood trauma at the hands of a wicked, cruel father. Doesn't justify it in any way whatever; it does partly explain it though.

Maybe it's impossible - but we have, all of us, to be kinder to each other.

There's no way we'll ever be able to heal the massive rifts in our societies without that.

When I say 'maybe it's impossible', I mean the way Twitter thrives on confrontation - and misrepresentation. And labels. And wild, hysterical over-simplification. And all the rest of it.

To put it another way: https://twitter.com/shaunjlawson/status/1313638957356380160

None of the above helps anyone anywhere - but it's a constant thing on here. Despite many of us knowing how awful and wrong bullying is; despite many of us knowing there's an epidemic in mental health problems and depression out there.

Ultimately, I guess it requires, as a minimum, an assumption of good faith. That the person or people disagreeing with you, however strongly, want the best.

NB: Not everyone on here behaves in good faith. Far from it.

In fact, our politics have been so corrupted by bad faith that very many on here are constantly suspicious; constantly looking for Fifth Columns. Understandably so given their own treatment when supporting Jeremy Corbyn.

I get accused, albeit in different words, of being a Fifth Columnist all the time. My favourite accusation is when people say:

"He pretended he was a socialist to get followers!"

Nope. I've supported every Labour leader and will continue to do so.

I even wrote a book which extolled Corbyn's praises - only to reject at least part of his approach in the wake of the defeat.

The cynical thing to do - the "I want more followers" thing to do - would've been to refuse to reflect on why we lost. And just sensationalise instead.

Not, incidentally, that I'm accusing most of Starmer's fiercest critics of being cynical or focused on followers. Again: we all have our own lived experiences, our own implicit biases, and so many of them feel bitterly let down. Completely understandably so.

And in any case: if I wanted more followers, why would I write thread after thread boring the hind legs off a donkey?

Even how over-analytical I am - analysing things until I ANAL-yse them - actually owes to my background. Not just academically, but personally.

Growing up at home, I *knew* something was terribly wrong. But nobody was explaining to me what that thing was or where it came from - so I had to work it out for myself. And do a huge amount of thinking and exploring and listening and understanding.

I do love my father. He's a quite horrendously flawed human being - but we all have flaws, big ones. He never meant badly, and is a victim too. As his parents were.

In the end: most people, however flawed, *do* mean well.

Twitter can make it seem like the total opposite. All the injustice and pain and suffering in the world can make it seem that way too.

But most human beings have always been deeply flawed, complex and contradictory... even while essentially wanting the best.

Not all - but most. Rosie Duffield and JK Rowling are certainly in the latter category; albeit, most of those attacking them are too.

Kindness. That's what we all need: somehow. That's what Joe Biden and Kamala Harris are tapping into; ditto Jacinda Ardern.

Because in the end, we all have so much more in common.