Hi, I’m Benjamin Welby. I live in Croydon with my wife and two children. I church at Croydon Vineyard. We’ve had season tickets for Bradford City since 2007. I’ve got degrees in History, Post-War Recovery and Public Administration and have spent the last 15+ years working on public sector digital transformation at local, national, and international levels.
I’m interested in too many things and this blog is about most of them: being a good husband and father, following Jesus, the theology of governing well, a warm welcome for refugees and asylum seekers, that ‘digital’ leads to fair, inclusive and equitable transformation, exploring the world, League One football, Pantomime, the England cricket team...
A note before you go further: I’ve supported men’s health through Movember for years, and I’m conscious that this piece plays deliberately with a word that describes something devastatingly real.
Suicide is not a metaphor: around 125 people die by suicide each week in the UK, and around three quarters of them are men. Suicide is the single biggest ...
Last week A-level results dropped.
And a video popped up in my YouTube subscriptions from GOV.UK suggesting that students download the GOV.UK app to search GOV.UK for what to do next.
It’s a bit odd when we already have an app for searching the web. A...
When the first briefings appeared over the weekend about abolishing the Department for Science, Innovation and Technology (DSIT), I decided to wait.
Machinery of Government changes have an awkward period in which the headline is certain but most of the consequential detail is not. Which teams are going where? Who owns the budgets, controls and responsibilities? Whic...
On Thursday 9th July 2026 I sat in the audience for the launch of Mind’s Mental Health in the Age of AI Commission. Here are some thoughts provoked by that evening.
On the face of it, “AI and mental health” sounds like...
There are some jobs you leave because the evening has ended.
The plates are cleared. The conversation has run its course. Someone is stacking chairs. It was good, perhaps even brilliant, but it’s clearly time to go home.
Leaving DWP has not felt like that.
The image I’ve had has been of walking out of a busy kitchen in the middle of service. Ever...