ChloeTaylor

You're a Britain-builder who wants dignity at home — marriage equality, care funded from general taxation, no panic about trans lives — but who treats the state's hard edges, deportation, nuclear defence, the Union itself, as non-negotiable furniture. It's not confusion; it's a settled instinct that fairness and firmness aren't opposites.

You're rarely an outlier: on eight of your ten votes you sit with the national majority, from care funding to deporting foreign offenders. Your real breaks from the crowd are telling — you voted against devolving power to regional assemblies and against banning the burka, going against a country roughly split down the middle both times, suggesting a preference for a unified, centrally-run Britain over local or symbolic fights.

You agree with the people you follow only about half the time, which is thinner than most would guess from how confidently you vote. Ian is your closest ally at seven-in-ten, though even you two split over the constitution; ChrisJones is your sharpest clash, disagreeing on both Rights and Constitution — exactly the ground where your convictions run deepest.

Ten votes is a first sketch, not a verdict — your rights record already reads as rock solid, but the rest of you is still filling in. Every vote you cast from here sharpens this picture, and a fresh read lands weekly to keep pace with you.