Moral Maze

The Church of England marks a historic moment: the installation of its first female Archbishop of Canterbury. A symbol, many would say, of progress in an institution often accused of resisting it. And yet, even as she takes office, around 600 churches reportedly refuse to recognise the authority of ordained women. For them, this is not prejudice but principle. An adherence to theological conviction.
It comes amid fresh scrutiny about the Church’s place in national life - from Prince William signalling a more modern, personal relationship with it, to the Green Party reopening the question of disestablishment. The Church of England is not just a religious body. As the established church, it is entwined with the state. Its bishops sit in Parliament. Its role extends, at least in theory, to the whole nation. It claims to be “a church for everyone.” And yet it operates with exemptions from equality law, particularly in its approach to women’s leadership and same-sex relationships. Defenders argue that religious freedom must include the freedom to dissent from prevailing social norms. Critics counter that an institution with constitutional privilege cannot also claim the right to discriminate.
But there is a further tension. The Church speaks as a national institution at a time when fewer people identify with it at all. Attendance has declined steadily. Belief itself is becoming more marginal in a society that is increasingly secular. For many citizens, religion is not just optional but irrelevant.
So what does establishment mean in such a society? Should the Church be brought into line with equality law or separated from the state altogether? And more fundamentally: can an established church still claim moral authority in a nation that is steadily moving away from it?
Chair: William Crawley.
Panel: Carmody Grey, Tim Stanley, Mona Siddiqui and Anne McElvoy.
Witnesses: Andrew Copson, Bishop David Walker, Jonathan Chaplin and Rev Charlie Bączyk-Bell.
Producer: Dan Tierney
Assistant producer: Jay Unger
Editor: Tim Pemberton.

Rising oil prices triggered by war have renewed fears of an economic shock. Governments are already under pressure to step in: to cap prices, cushion bills and shield households from the consequences. Yet crises were once understood differently. During earlier shocks, citizens were often told to tighten their belts, to accept rationing, higher prices and shared sacrifice. But memories of past hardship can also be misleading. There is sometimes a tendency to romanticise earlier generations’ stoicism. Today the assumption seems different: if living standards fall, the government must intervene.
The idea of sacrifice raises difficult questions. Who exactly is the “we” being asked to shoulder the burden? A rise in energy costs may be uncomfortable for some but devastating for those already living precariously. Hardship is rarely shared equally. If sacrifice is demanded, how should it be distributed? There is also a deeper question about what we mean by sacrifice at all. The word is often used simply to mean going without. Yet traditionally it carried a stronger philosophical meaning: the willingness to give something up for a higher purpose or the common good. Some argue that modern democracies have become reluctant to ask citizens for such things, fearing the political cost. Governments promise protection instead, even when the resources to deliver it are limited.
And yet the challenges ahead may demand difficult choices. From energy shocks to climate change, societies may have to decide whether they are prepared to accept lower living standards in pursuit of wider goals. So in a democracy, should citizens expect protection from every crisis? Does the government have a duty to be open and honest with us about the hard choices we face? Or do we have a duty to accept sacrifice when circumstances demand it?
Chair: Michael Buerk
Panel: Matthew Taylor, Ash Sarkar, James Orr and Ella Whelan.
Witnesses: James Bartholomew, Grace Blakeley, Rupert Read and Adrian Pabst
Producer: Dan Tierney
Assistant producer: JayUnger
Editor: Tim Pemberton

Relations between Britain and the United States have rarely been described as simple, but they have long been called special. Yet in recent days that relationship has come under strain, after a sharp exchange between Donald Trump and Keir Starmer over the latest international crisis and Britain’s response to it. For more than eighty years the United Kingdom has defined its place in the world partly through its alliance with the United States. But moments like this raise uncomfortable questions about how Britain should act amid a shifting global order.
Some argue that foreign policy must ultimately be guided by national interest. In an uncertain world, they say, Britain cannot afford to jeopardise its most important alliance. Presidents come and go, but the strategic relationship between the two countries endures. In that view, the moral case is one of engagement, diplomacy, influence and the long-term security and prosperity of British citizens.
Others believe that alliances cannot come at the expense of values. The Canadian prime minister Mark Carney recently warned that the world has entered an “age of rupture”, where the rules and norms that once governed international relations are beginning to fray. When Britain disagrees with its closest ally – particularly on questions of war and peace – it has a responsibility to defend those principles, even at the risk of friction or isolation.
So in these extraordinary times, should foreign policy be guided primarily by principle or by pragmatic self-interest? What should the balance be between ethical idealism and strategic reality? Can interests and values truly align? And ultimately, what is the role of morality in foreign policy?
Chair: Michael Buerk
Panel: Matthew Taylor, Giles Fraser, Ash Sarkar and Tim Stanley
Witnesses: Jan Halper-Hayes, Peter Oborne, Christopher Hill, Jamie Gaskarth
Producer: Dan Tierney
Assistant Producer: Jay Unger
Editor: Chloe Walker.

Conflict has deepened in the Middle East since the United States and Israel launched a coordinated wave of air and missile strikes across Iran, targeting military facilities, nuclear sites and the country’s leadership.
Supporters argue the attacks were necessary. Iran’s missile programme, its support for armed proxies across the region and its long-running nuclear ambitions have convinced some Western leaders that waiting would only make a future conflict far more dangerous. In that view, striking first may be grim, but it is sometimes the least bad option. Others frame the issue in terms of human rights. Iran’s government has long been accused of brutal repression at home, imprisoning dissidents, violently suppressing protests and enforcing strict controls over women’s lives. To some, confronting such a regime is not simply a matter of strategic calculation but of moral responsibility.
But critics see something more troubling: the deliberate bombing of a sovereign state without international authorisation and with potentially catastrophic consequences. Iran has already retaliated with missiles and drones across the region, targeting U.S. bases and cities in Gulf states, while Iran-backed militias have joined the fight. And the human cost is becoming clearer. A missile strike on a girls’ school in southern Iran reportedly killed at least 150 people, many of them children, though the circumstances remain disputed. While many Iranians are celebrating the death of their Supreme Leader, others are sceptical about the human rights motives of the strikes.
Is it moral to attack Iran?
Chair: Michael Buerk
Panel: Matthew Taylor, Anne McElvoy, Mona Siddiqui and James Orr.
Witnesses: Barak Seener, Simon Mabon, Shiva Mahbobi, Jeff McMahan.
Producer: Dan Tierney
Assistant Producer: Jay Unger
Editor: Tim Pemberton.

What is truth? In a special edition of The Moral Maze, we discuss perhaps the most significant question in all of human thought. It sits at the foundation of how we understand reality, and how we communicate and behave towards one another.
The obvious answer is that the strongest possible way to arrive at the truth in a shifting world of AI and authoritarian control is through a commitment to empirical data and provable facts. However, this can only ever get us so far because truth is always told from somewhere. Even objective facts can be curated from one perspective. Stories about ourselves and the world have been necessary, alongside partial data, to keep the social order and to prevent us from being overwhelmed. The historian uses limited sources to tell a story about our past. Language constrains how we articulate who we are, what we do and how we think and feel. Where science falters in expanding the horizons of truth, artists and theologians step in with their own insights that truth can be discovered through poetry and mysticism. That’s before the postmodernists come along and state that what we think of as truth is constructed rather than discovered; that the ‘truth’ we seek doesn’t really exist; that it’s all a fiction to give our lives meaning and purpose.
Chair: Michael Buerk
Panel: Mona Siddiqui, Giles Fraser, Anne McElvoy and Ash Sarkar
Witnesses: Charlie Beckett, Fay Bound-Alberti, Mark Vernon and Hilary Lawson
Producer: Dan Tierney.