In concert with a large percentage of the viewing public, I watched a BBC programme on the prevalence of real hunger, through poverty, in working people in the United Kingdom today. I had just eaten a simple dinner and, if truth be known, had chosen to watch this programme because “there was nothing else on”. It became clear to me, as the programme unfolded, that although I knew the definition of the word “hunger”, I had clearly never experienced it. The flaws in the programme were obvious as I watched well covered, wealthy chefs look askance at empty fridges, stare in disbelief at cupboards, bare but for a packet of soup and a tin of budget beans, and be totally blown away by the confession of one of their “subjects”, that she only had 28p in her bank account. People like them have no concept of poverty: people like me have no concept of poverty, but I thought I was grasping the mind bending reality of starving people all around us in our celebrated Olympic, Shard, Wimbledon society. Then I ran headlong into ” A Girl Called Jack” . Reading her blog made me share her rage at the ludicrous site of unbelievably wealthy “personalities” performing a tasting of a “budget banquet”. Blue Peter visits Auschwitz. You have to read what Jack Monroe has to say as it is life changing. Believe me.