Columnists

Published 5th Oct 2026, 06:00 BST

Updated 5th Oct 2026, 06:00 BST

Thinking of my childhood Sunday evenings conjures up a cosy picture of leftover roast chicken sandwiches, a warm drink and a television experience which I now realise did so much to shape mine and my generation of women’s attitudes.

For two decades, Esther Rantzen’s ‘That’s Life’ entertained us, challenged social and consumer injustices, and demonstrated to every wee girl watching there were no limits to what they could achieve. We owe her our careers pursued and opportunities grasped, and for me most importantly, the belief that if you live life with a purpose, and aim to make a difference, that will be its own reward.

In the US, commentators acknowledge something similar and call it the Mary Tyler Moore effect. Her weekly comedy show was the first to focus on a professional single woman succeeding in a man's world as a TV news producer.

It puts her amongst an iconic group of female influencers like Billie Jean King, Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Gloria Steinem and, of course, Esther. Watching That’s Life gave girls like me a role model whose significance and subliminal influence we were not really old enough yet to recognise.

It wasn’t all misshapen vegetables and comedy songs. In turning the spotlight on the wartime Kindertransport, establishing Childline, campaigning for seatbelts and so much more, she sowed the seeds of ambition and belief in our young minds.

It engaged us with humour and inspired with its successes. Two moments stand out. One is the moment when she surprised Nicholas Winton by introducing him to an audience of adults he had saved from the Nazis as children with his Kindertransport. She later admitted it was the one moment in 20 years of the show when she became emotional.

The other was when she presented the show while pregnant. Much was later made of Janet Ellis doing the same, but Esther did it at a time when it was still expected women would give up their careers when they became mothers.

Sitting in front of the cameras visibly pregnant and demonstrating it made no difference to her ability or commitment sent a message to employers and a generation watching.

That’s Life was still on the air when I began my career with the BBC, and I wish our paths had crossed at some point. However, among the most cherished of moments of that period of my life is a note from her husband Desmond Wilcox about a documentary idea I had sent him.

It was kind, encouraging and I saw it as a mark of both of their attitudes to eager young broadcasters. Some of that was, I admit, in my mind when Esther’s intervention in the assisted dying debate galvanised my already public support.

Her willingness to allow her own distress to be used for the good of others at the most difficult of times, in much the same way as the late Margo MacDonald had done, was beyond moving.

And although I never got to thank her personally for all she did for so many people, I do hope that one day we will achieve that by passing assisted dying legislation in her name, and for all those that she wanted to help with her final campaign.

Christine Jardine is the Scottish Liberal Democrat MP for Edinburgh West