The word ‘pride’ has been flying around a lot lately, especially about the England football team. It is a word I try to avoid and I have never really thought about why. I guess it is partly because I try to be modest and pride is sort of the opposite to that. It is partly because I feel that aif you are proud of something you ought to be at least partly responsible for it.

In the context of the England football team, they did a good job and according to the book Soccernomics they overachieved by getting to the semi-finals. The manager and any of the team have every right to be proud of what they have done in Russia, but if I said that I was proud it would be like I was trying to claim some small degree of responsibility for it.

Of course there is the concept of national pride, and I have always been a bit suspicious of that. Yes I am happy to be British and I like a lot about Britain but surely there must be a less aggressive word to describe that. Why can’t you think your country is great and also think that some other countries are too? Why does patriotism have to be so tribal?

Quite topically, pride has another meaning now thanks to the various pride marches. I am always amused that when the religious right get so wound up by gay pride it is the gay part they are so upset about, when pride is one of the seven deadly sins, which gayness isn’t. I would have a bit more time for them if they showed some consistency and objected about the pride in gay pride.

And maybe that iswhere my reluctance to admit to pride comes from. I may not be religious but I did have to endure years of school assemblies and RE lessons – and Sunday school, even though my Mum wasn’t and isn’t religious – so perhaps a bit of it registered.

Having said all that though, when I saw all the news today about the mass protests against Donald Trump I did feel some degree of national pride.