I have a theory about why the anger has gone out of mainstream politics -- and it revolves around television. The telly-box is what the media studies people call a "cool medium" -- it is much kinder to soft-spoken, reasonable people with an ample store of pithy sound-bites than to tub-thumping ideologues who could make themselves heard in the far corners of Trafalgar Square without the aid of a microphone.
For those who watch simply for the audition rounds many do so from the expectation of acts to laugh at. Some may say these people are deluded to think they have talent but rather than celebrate the confidence and bravery it takes to stand up and perform whilst the country is watching we laugh in their faces.
I've spent the first part of the year digging away at his life to write the new biography Benedict Cumberbatch: Behind the Scenes. I found someone who's got a class-defying desire to succeed. A man whose job very nearly got himself killed in a South African car-jacking. And a man who's professional life hides a very real sadness at home.
Imagine a world without TV. Instead of tuning in for the latest family drama on Emmerdale, we'd talk to our own families. Instead of watching yet another endless football match, we'd go to the gym or take the dog out for a walk. Instead of watching the Masterchef contenders taking insults from the judges, we'd cook a meal and talk to our friends or family while eating it together.
Of all the things I can't get my head round in life, there is one thing that stands out above all else. It's not that vending machines kill more people annually than sharks, or even that they used to use dead beetles for Smarties colouring. It's that people genuinely feel like it's okay to bandy about the idea that women aren't funny.
I've followed the Kardashians television shows and business ventures since the beginning of their rise to fame (not because of their celebrity status, as I have enough celebrity friends for that to just not wash with me); but because I see the entire family as a source of inspiration and excellent role models.
Dreams do come true. At 30, my sister Susie Wolff is a development driver for the Williams Formula One team and had her first F1 test last year. Susie trusted me to film over a year of her racing life for my documentary Driven: The Fastest Woman in the World filmed over a year of Susie's racing life, including her testing for Williams.