23rd June 2022

I’ve been getting into trouble for years. I didn’t want to get into trouble. And I didn’t mean to get into trouble. But that’s the way it’s always been.

In 1964, at the age of 18, I went to Kirkby, Liverpool to spend a year as a Community Service Volunteer.

I arrived as a schoolboy, in a school blazer, tie and flannels. I spent my time there helping old people and working with an army of teenage school-children. I organised groups of teenagers to tidy gardens, paint flats and do shopping for lonely, housebound people. Nine months later, I had seen more of life than I’d seen in the previous 18 years. I had become a professional rebel – fighting for freedom and human rights and against injustices of all kinds.

When I started medical school I carried on working with ‘lost’ teenagers in Birmingham. I recruited a couple of gangs and got the members to help me run a night-club in the city centre so that kids had somewhere to go in the evenings.

And I spent much of the 1960s and 1970s writing articles and columns which were critical of the establishment.

To begin with, the establishment was moderately tolerant....

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