At last, a PM I can look down to

Rishi Sunak’s victory is a testament to how much progress we have made on the equalities front. As recently as 25 years ago, someone with his characteristics could never have become prime minister. Yet in today’s Britain, being a member of an historically disadvantaged minority is no impediment to success. I’m thinking, of course, of his height. As one wag joked on Twitter, the shortest-serving prime minister in British history has been succeeded by the shortest serving prime minister in British history.

As a vertically challenged man myself, I take great comfort from this. Positive role models are few and far between in the modern world. In film and television there are the two Toms – Cruise and Hollander – but let’s face it, most successful leading men are tall. In football, there’s Lionel Messi (5ft 7in), but the current pretender to his crown – Erling Haaland – is 6ft 5in.

In contemporary politics, the best we could muster before Rishi came along was John Bercow, who seemed to be the living embodiment of Small Man Syndrome. Now, at last, we have someone we can look up to in Downing Street. Or rather, someone we don’t have to look up to, but can look squarely in the eye.

I’m only half-joking. I would love to be able to say my height is a matter of supreme indifference to me, but I’ve always been a bit chippy about it. That’s obvious from my response whenever I’m asked how tall I am: ‘Five eight and a half.’

My children ridicule me whenever they hear me say those words, comparing me to a small child boasting of being ‘four and three quarters’. I suppose I could just round up, but am wary of the scepticism that would flash across people’s brows. And yet I cannot bring myself to round down. In my mind, that half-inch is what separates the ‘short’ from those ‘just below average height’. According to the Office for National Statistics, the average height of an adult British male is 5ft 9in, so if I just stand on my tiptoes…

Poor Rishi is a hair under 5ft 7in – although, when asked, he says he’s 170cm, possibly to obscure how short he is from older folks like me who still think in feet and inches. (I might try that.) If I ever meet him, I’ll be able to tell instantly whether he’s wearing high heels – or ‘lifts’, as they’re referred to in men’s shoes. My height radar is second to none. If I detect that someone is shorter than me, even by a quarter of an inch, I instantly warm to them, whereas if they’re taller I feel an irrepressible wave of hostility.

The other day I carried out an audit in my head of my closest friends and realised that about three-quarters of them are below my height. Assuming that Rishi isn’t wearing lifts, when our eyes do eventually meet I expect that I will feel extremely well--disposed towards him.

I often scoff when I hear people like Stormzy referred to as ‘positive role models’, as if just seeing a person who resembles you in some way in a high-status position inspires you to work harder. But the truth is, I do admire short men who have done well for themselves, particularly in professions where being tall is an advantage, such as politics. That isn’t an urban myth. If you look at the 31 American presidential elections between 1900 and 2020, the winning candidate has been, on average, 1.2 inches taller than the loser. One of my first thoughts when Rishi became Prime Minister was that I would be able to point to him when my own sons complain about being small and say: ‘Look how far Rishi’s got – and he’s shorter than you.’

I actually own some high heels myself – a pair of Gieves & Hawkes cavalry boots. The heels, which need to be oversized so that spurs can be attached, add about an inch to my height. So when I put them on I’m five nine and a half – above average height! And I have to say, it completely transforms the way I view the world. Suddenly, tall men are less threatening and short men less appealing. I can feel the chip lifting from my shoulder. Next time Rishi attends the G7, or is involved in a tense negotiation with Macron, he might consider donning some heels.

Then again, maybe not. Like most small men, I’m driven by a desire to prove myself, to show the world I can punch above my weight, and I daresay the same is true of Rishi. Wearing lifts might be the equivalent of cutting Samson’s hair. Say it loud, Rishi. You’re short and proud. And know that small men all over the world are rooting for you.