With all this in mind, therefore, we can start to comprehend those rare instances since the 1960s where some classical music worthy of our attention has been produced, and we should not be surprised to see that they have sprung most prominently from a Christian setting—in particular, the great tradition of choral music which continues in the Oxbridge colleges and cathedrals across England. The best examples include John Tavener's outstanding setting of Blake's "The Lamb", early insightful glances into what a composer like George Benjamin might have been in his magnificent "Twas in the year that King Uzziah died", the admirable liturgical output of Judith Bingham and Judith Weir, and the success of those two wonderful choral works, "Sleep" and "Lux Aurumque" by Eric Whitacre, suffused with his distinctive brand of American televangelism. In addition, another often-forgotten backwater is the world of wind and brass music which, given its ties to the Royal Family, the armed forces and (particularly in the case of brass bands) its commitment to the great Christian hymn tune, has allowed composers like Edward Gregson and Kenneth Hesketh to sneak past a few nationalist contributions which contrast starkly with their usual "squeaky-gate" output. With its tuba trills and macho melodies, Gregson's "The Plantagenets" for brass band masterfully evokes the passions and chivalry of the old English kings, whereas Hesketh's youthful "Masque" and "Whirlegigg"—which enjoy international renown—are straight out of the military banding traditions of Vaughan Williams and Holst. What all of the above examples go to prove is that modern composers do still have it in them, when they are brave enough (or innocent enough) to try; however, these examples still exist on the periphery of the musical establishment, which, as Glare—a new opera presented by the Royal Opera House last November—amply demonstrates, remains stuck in a self-hating modernist rut.

Things might be about to change, however, and I think I can suggest a few reasons why this might be: popular music has run out of steam. The young know this (several students of mine have testified to its truth); they admit that even the best that is on offer these days—the chilly sounds of Coldplay or the Arctic Monkeys—cannot compete with the energetic exuberance of, say, Abba, and that so much that is pumped out of the radio is now empty commercialism.

This decline, I suspect, relates back to the ongoing liberalisation of societies which began in the 1960s. The overthrowing of Christian chastity and discrediting of nationalism went hand in hand with the rights revolutions, which improved the freedoms of non-white races, homosexuals and women, and these causes were also reflected in popular music: hence, "[It doesn't matter if you're] Black or White" by Michael Jackson, "I want to break free" by Queen, or "Eleanor Rigby" by the Beatles. During this period, the young had a lot to rebel against, and many just causes to champion. Now, however, it is fair to say that, in the West. social norms have been established which condemn any form of discrimination based on race, gender or sexuality, and so the young have very little real to rebel against anymore, and the motivations and feelings which inspired so much great popular music, and which pushed the old authority of classical music to one side, have now run dry.

Instead, what has crept into our institutions of late—particularly in education—is a systemic lack of leadership and authority. So, in conservatoires and music departments, nobody teaches harmony and counterpoint any more, although this, as explained above, is fundamental to all Western music. What has happened here is that the baby has been thrown out with the bath-water, and an overshooting liberal agenda has jettisoned all that was of value from the past, as well as those things which needed changing—as Steven Pinker has aptly put it, the rights revolutions have now entered their "decadent phase".

We have now reached a point, however, where the rot has gone so deep that we can no longer afford to maintain the lie that modernism was ever worth much—and not just because the money is running out. With the many subversive and insidious forces of globalisation beginning seriously to undermine the legitimacy of the nation state, and with Christianity under attack from a new liberal bigotry which has made expressing Christian sentiments all but taboo in much public life, what we need now are forms of culture that will help us to shore up these foundations. However, this is only possible if we allow leadership and authority back into our artistic institutions, if we take a suitably compassionate pride in our national identity, and, without any awkwardness or shame, have belief in the value and virtue of our  Judaeo-Christian roots.