David Baddiel: ‘I've learnt the world doesn't have to hear my opinion on everything'

Telegraph

a day ago

Born in New York City in 1964, David Baddiel moved to Britain when he was a baby. He got a double-first at Cambridge before moving to London to be a comedian in the 1980s. Now one of Britain's best-known comedians and TV presenters, he's worked with Frank Skinner, Al Murray and Hugh Dennis, and authored more than 16 books, plays and various sitcoms. He lives with his wife, the actress Morwenna Banks, with whom he has two children, Dolly, 24, and Ezra, 20.
Best childhood memory?
I had a very weird childhood. My dad was an occasionally funny but emotionally stunted Welsh scientist, and my mother was more flamboyant, and had a decades-long affair with an Alan Partridge-esque golf memorabilia expert. Their three children were often an after-thought. But I look at my childhood as a tragicomic sculpture that made me who I am. Every good childhood memory I've got is ironic. Every summer holiday, we went to stay at my grandparents' in Swansea. It was only years later, when I was in my 20s, that I realised how beautiful the surrounding area was, like Three Cliffs Bay – but we never explored because my parents couldn't be bothered. I remember how excited I was to have a full Welsh breakfast, which may confuse people given I'm Jewish and there's pork in it, but Dad would often cook us bacon sandwiches before sending us off to our Orthodox Jewish primary school.
Best lesson you've learnt?
The truth is always complex. Without a doubt, my family is an object part of me learning this. The truth is in the detail, and the detail is complex. My mother had a long-term affair and was flagrant about it, and my dad was an angry man in denial about it who later got dementia and got even angrier. This could be viewed negatively, but I'm someone who naturally sees the funny side of things. Life is rich, strange and complex – and for me, ultimately comedic. And that's how I get through life: by viewing challenging times as comedy or with optimism. You can't be at the mercy of your past for the rest of your life. Like Nora Ephron said, 'everything's copy'.
Best part of being a parent?
I remember going to antenatal classes when Morwenna was pregnant with Dolly, and I said to the teacher, 'This has all been great and very interesting about how to deal with the birth, but what about the next 18 years? Any advice on that?' In retrospect, it was a bit naughty of me to say, but I wish there was more about the afterwards part. Being a parent is brilliant – there's this instinctive empathy for your children in a way you've never felt before. Now I've got a really close relationship with both Dolly and Ezra. I've loved seeing the evolution of their personalities and the adults they've become. I hang out with my kids all the time, and Ezra and I went on holiday just the two of us last year, and then I did the same with Dolly. I'll be bereft when Ezra moves out, because my mate will be gone.
Best characteristic or trait?
I try to be as honest as possible. I find it very difficult to lie at all, and if I'm telling what I perceive to be the truth, I tell it in extreme detail. So that's why there are lots of footnotes in my book, because I'm constantly clarifying things. I get a sort of physical discomfort not telling the absolute truth in absurd detail, because there's comedy in the detail. It can be annoying for other people because it's exhausting. I developed this trait as a kid because I was constantly defending myself to my mother, so I figured the safest thing was to be as authentic as possible.
Best decision?
Having kids. When I met Morwenna in our 30s, it wasn't necessarily on the table. And then when we had Dolly, it hit me that I couldn't imagine not having kids. It was what I was put on earth to do. I say that as a fundamentalist atheist who believes there is no purpose to life. I mean, I'm lucky I love what I do – telling stories and making people laugh – but there's no big point to that. Even though I had a chaotic and unusual childhood, and work has kept me busy, having kids is the only thing that has fundamentally changed who I am.
Worst trait?
I'm not cautious. I'm continuously getting into scrapes and doing things like eating something that is clearly off, but I'll be thinking, 'What's the worst that could happen?' Morwenna once asked if I'd ever thought about saying the second thing that comes into my head. Something I've learnt through social media is the world doesn't have to hear my opinion on everything. I think a lot of people, including myself, could learn that, even if you have the 'right' opinion, it may not be the right thing for you to enter the fray with it. Social media has created a situation whereby everyone thinks they need to express their views. I used to enjoy online debates, but it's become one big jar of constant fighting, and there's no point in joining in, because it'll just increase the toxicity.
Worst advice?
The constant advice from my dad that the sciences – maths, physics and chemistry – were the only A-levels worth doing because that's where the real cerebral work is done. He'd got himself out of poverty by doing a PhD in chemistry. Never mind that I was terrible at those subjects; I was going to do them anyway because my dad hadn't really given me any option. My brother Ivor had taken them just before me and had done badly, but Dad was determined. One of my teachers took me aside and told me, 'You're not an idiot. You're getting As for history and English, and Cs and Ds in maths and physics.' I was frightened of telling Dad. In the end, I did English, history and economics – economics was enough of a pseudoscience to keep him vaguely happy. He told me I was wasting my brain.
Worst thing in the news?
The technology that we have now has helped fray the truth. Truth was never completely objective, as it has been handed down by authorities over the centuries who were biased in various ways, whether it was the state or religion. The prevalence of social media has reinforced that everyone's personal truth is as important as everyone else's, and needs to be expressed. I think when the internet started, it seemed like a good platform to share knowledge and reasonable debate, which would lead to progress. But what it's done more recently is decrease the sum of truth, because it's warped truth to a mad extent that no one can say what is true and what isn't without someone bullying and humiliating them in disagreement. That in turn leads to destabilisation of countries and society, and allows people who shout the loudest to feel like they are the owners of the truth and questionable people to capitalise on insecurities and gain power.
Worst pet peeve?
What really annoys me is when people are seemingly passionate about something that I feel they don't really believe in or understand. It's like they're performing their opinion because it's how they think they should appear or feel about something. People are trying too hard to fall into line, without properly informing themselves. The internet has created a monster, because we're not meant to constantly air our opinions. When someone tells you you're wrong or believes differently, we don't suddenly think, 'Oh, maybe I am wrong'; rather it's, 'I've been humiliated, he's belittling my identity, and I need to fight back.' People confuse identity and opinion, which then pushes them to join every argument to which they're invited.
Worst fear for the future?
I'm worried about the world that my children are growing up in. Their generation has so much potential, despite the criticism they get, but everything seems so unpredictable right now. I'm also frightened of mortality, and I talk about this a lot. As a storyteller, I don't want mine to end. I love life, irrespective of how s--- things are. But my life is beset by regret because I'm constantly messing things up.