Article
Comment
Digital
Politics
5 min read

The five reasons I go on GB News

Engaging is not endorsing, joining the dialogue prepares ways to peace.

Krish is a social entrepreneur partnering across civil society, faith communities, government and philanthropy. He founded The Sanctuary Foundation.

A TV news show panel discussion.
Krish Kandiah, right, debates the news.

GB News is no stranger to controversy. Since its launch in 2021, the channel—claiming to be the UK’s fastest-growing digital news outlet—has seen its live viewing figures rival those of Sky News. Yet, it has faced significant criticism. GB News has been accused of poisoning public discourse with its unapologetically anti-woke, and, many would argue, anti-immigrant editorial stance. Ofcom has investigated the channel for numerous impartiality breaches, issuing fines totalling £100,000 last year. Additional backlash has arisen over serving MPs, such as Jacob Rees-Mogg (before he lost his seat), and Nigel Farage of the Reform Party being paid to host programmes. The firing of Laurence Fox after his obscene and misogynistic on-air comments further fuelled public outrage—ironically also boosting the channel’s viewership. 

For the past year, I have regularly appeared on GB News, often to provide alternative perspectives on issues ranging from immigration to child welfare to slavery reparations. Some accuse me of selling out, of being unnecessarily political, or of lending credibility to a platform that often contradicts my Christian values. Yet I continue to accept these invitations, and here’s why.

Build bridges, not walls 

Peacemaking—the work I believe all Christians are called to by Jesus —is not passive. It requires engagement, courage, and humility. Being a peacemaker means stepping into uncomfortable spaces to foster dialogue, not retreating to the safety of ideological agreement. My faith compels me to bridge divides, treating even my most vocal opponents with respect, seeking common ground where possible, and disagreeing graciously when it isn’t. 

After one particularly heated debate on immigration, an opponent approached me off-air, saying, “We might disagree on almost everything, but I do appreciate your tone. If I had to hear devastating news, I’d want it to come from you.” Moments like these remind me that tone matters as much as content. Civility can be disarming, and small gestures of respect—even in disagreement—can create openings for deeper understanding. By showing up and articulating my views with, I hope, humility, I aim to challenge stereotypes, broaden perspectives, and build bridges toward peace. 

Break down ideological silos 

In an increasingly polarized world, echo chambers dominate. Thanks to AI algorithms that amplify our biases, many of us are surrounded by voices that mirror our own, while opposing views are dismissed or demonized. Appearing on GB News is one way I seek to counteract this dynamic. If I can present a thoughtful counterargument, even if it doesn’t immediately change minds, I hope to foster a culture where differing perspectives are heard rather than ignored. 

The Apostle Paul provides me with a compelling model for engaging in controversial spaces. Often facing hostility in synagogues where he was hoping for a receptive audience, Paul, at great personal cost and to much criticism, took his message to marketplaces, rural villages, and intellectual hubs like the Areopagus. His example reminds me that Jesus’ teachings are meant for everyone, not just those predisposed to agree.  

Model constructive politics 

For me, public debates are an opportunity to demonstrate that politics can be constructive. Too often, political discourse devolves into shouting matches, with each side entrenched in their positions. This approach benefits no one. I aim to model a different kind of engagement—one where disagreements are expressed respectfully, and common ground is sought. It’s not always easy, I have had many an encounter where I was shouted at, sworn out or dismissed, with one lady who was particularly aggressive and patronising. It is frustrating, to say the least, however these opponents help, I believe, in demonstrating the importance and value of being calm, measured and respectful.  

At its best, politics should be about collaboration for the benefit of the marginalized, not division at their expense. If, by God’s grace, I can contribute even a small measure of this spirit to public life, I consider it meaningful.  

Speak for those who can’t 

One of the main reasons I accept invitations to speak on GB News is to amplify the voices of those who might otherwise be overlooked. When I speak on issues such as immigration or child welfare, I do so not to simply promote my own perspective but to represent those whose stories are often ignored or distorted. The view of immigration espoused often on GB News is one which believes migrants to be a drain on our society. There is another viewpoint – they can enrich and benefit our society now as they have done in the past. Not only that, we all benefit when we live in a country marked by justice, generosity, respect, tolerance, liberty and compassion. 

Learn the language of engagement 

Appearing on platforms like GB News is a bit like learning a new language. Just as time spent in a foreign country deepens cultural understanding and fosters more meaningful conversation, so engaging with different media platforms, for me, broadens my perspective and sharpens my ability to articulate my faith, message and values in ways that resonate. Whether I am addressing audiences in Westminster, or through GB News, or in churches, or via Seen & Unseen, I aim to offer my opinions, values and expertise humbly, with integrity and relevance, recognising that I am on a learning journey.

A work in progress 

I don’t always get it right. Sometimes I fail to speak clearly enough. Other times, I fall short of speaking kindly enough. Balancing passion and grace, reaction and response, and raising my voice while also giving others a voice is a constant challenge.  

I strive to follow the example of Jesus—both gentle and firm. He was patient and gracious with his often-misunderstanding disciples, yet unafraid to show righteous anger when necessary, such as when he drove the money-spinners from the temple. In prayer, I lean on Jesus in prayer, recognising that I cannot change hearts and minds on my own.  

For me, engaging with GB News is not about endorsement; it’s about dialogue. It’s not about proselytizing, or politics, it’s about preparing a way for peace. It’s about building bridges, offering hope, and fostering understanding across divides. I hope that others will join me in this vital task so that together we can sing a song of hope, not just to the choir, but to everyone else who needs to hear it too. 

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Article
Assisted dying
Care
Comment
Easter
5 min read

I know who will be most affected by legalising assisted dying

Contemplating lent revives hard memories and raises fresh fears.

Ryan is an ordained Priest in the Church of England, currently serving in south London. 

A close up of a forehead bearing an ash cross marked on it.
Ahna Ziegler on Unsplash.

“What’s that - a face tattoo?” 

These were the words of one person as I walked past them on the streets on a recent Wednesday, with the ashes of last year’s burnt palm-branches placed across my forehead in the shape of the cross.  

The cross has been a symbol of hope for over two millennia; that even in the most painful of circumstances, darkness does not have the final say, including in death.  

As a society, we don’t really talk about death that much. Margot Robbie’s Barbie was the quintessential party-pooper when she pondered: 

 “do you guys ever think about dying?”. 

It’s no fun to dwell on death and dying, and for many of us, we put it off as long as we can. That all changed last year with the introduction of the assisted dying bill into the Houses of Parliament. Our national attention was, for a rare moment, captured by death.  

As a parish priest, I’ve seen the finality of burying someone into the ground. I’ve seen the sadness in the eyes of those trying to grieve. 

The words of Ash Wednesday, which remind us that we are ‘but dust, and to dust we shall return’ are echoed in the famous words that the priest recites in those last moments of burial, ‘ashes to ashes, dust to dust’. In that moment, amongst the bereaved, there is no escaping the inevitability of death. It is the ultimate statistic, 1 in 1 die. 

Whilst death is of course universal and will affect us all, the impact of this assisted dying bill could have consequences for some of the most vulnerable in society.  

As I reflect on my time as a Priest in East London, this is not abstract theory, but something I lived with each day. I served amongst a hugely diverse, vibrant, community in one of the poorest parts of the city. As I try to picture some the people I’ve walked alongside, I know it is these lives that will be most affected.  

One of the reasons I have concerns about the bill is the prospect of these people being coerced into ending their own lives prematurely, by a world that has already told them their lives are of little value. There are already huge disparities in access to the current provision of palliative care at the end of life, particularly amongst people of colour, the disabled and the poor.  

Of the 500,000 people who die each year, 100,000 do not access the care they need. This number is skewed towards ethnic minorities and those who come from poorer backgrounds.  

There is much confusion and misinformation about what end-of-life care even is. Research conducted by Marie Curie shows that 1 in 5 people from an ethnic minority background believe Palliative Care is actually Euthanasia.  

We only need to look at what has happened around the world when the ‘right to die’ becomes a duty to die. Even with the best of intentions, other jurisdictions show us that safeguards rapidly deteriorate and those who are already vulnerable become even more so.  

I worry that the way in which this bill is being handled - rushed through, little time being given to properly chew over the profound consequences it may have - reflects the wider way we view death. 

By trying to provide a ‘choice’ for a certain group of people, the consequence will be taking away real choice from those who already have little. 

Yet we know that for those who do access it, palliative care can be hugely effective in improving their quality of life, and for some, they can even outlive their prognosis. During Ash Wednesday’s service, I met an elderly gentleman who was diagnosed with stage four pancreatic cancer in 2019. He was told he had five months to live. He described every day of his six-year survival since as a ‘miracle’, his eyes filled with evident joy.  

Such a blessing stands in stark contrast to the lonely final days of my 96-year-old great grandmother. She was suddenly taken ill during the Covid-19 pandemic and was frantically rushed to a hospital. Amidst the chaos, exasperated by the restrictions against seeing family that were in place at the time, I distinctly remember confused conversations about placing her in a care home for her final days. It was clear she needed a lot of specialist attention, more than our family could provide ourselves.  As she was discharged to stay with our aunt, she never did reach that care home, as she died at home. She was buried in our local cemetery, with our family watching on Zoom.  

My final memory of my great-grandmother will be the FaceTime call we shared when she was taken to hospital, with the poor data connection and shaky picture. I am so grateful for the few family members who were able to be by her side when she died, but I’ve often wondered whether she fully received the care she actually needed during those final days, in the way she needed it.  

What my great-grandmother didn’t have a lot of at the end of her life was time.  

That’s also true for this bill. Concerns have been raised that only five hours of debate were given to this Bill in the chamber, comparatively short for a change in the law of this magnitude.  

I worry that the way in which this bill is being handled- rushed through, little time being given to properly chew over the profound consequences it may have- reflects the wider way we view death.  

Do we view death - and indeed the dying- as something to be shoved to one side, not spoken about in the hopes we can avoid its impact? Or do we view death as an important moment to review who and what matters most in life?  

Perhaps for some, the fact that Christians devote a period of 40 days to dwell on death may be one of the mysteries of faith. However, perhaps it’s not such a bad idea after all.  Death may bring with it fear, grief and pain and so we tend to avoid it. But do we risk missing out on much more? As we head into Easter, the cross still serves as a powerful reminder that, especially in death, Hope can be found, that Good has triumphed over evil, and Light shines even in the darkest of places.  

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