Surviving the Asylum — What Hosting Live TV Taught Me

I had 24 hours to prepare. Here’s what really happened.

Jun 08, 2025

When the number flashed up on my phone, I didn’t recognise it. And, shamefully, I let it go to voicemail.

Now, in my defence — I don’t normally screen calls. But it had been one of those days: tech issues galore, broken files, failed uploads, a laptop in near meltdown. So when that unknown number came through, I thought: Nope — not today. Straight to voicemail.
Oops.

Of course, it was the call — TalkTV offering me the chance to present The Political Asylum, stepping in for the great Kevin O’Sullivan.

It was just over 24 hours from that moment to me sitting in the presenter’s chair — a wild ride.

Cue instant regret. And sheer panic.

From Bar Chat to the Big Chair

It was also a surreal full-circle moment. My first on-air interview? Just three years ago.

And that too came about entirely by accident.

The night before, I’d been in the pub with the usual crowd — political types, journalists, the familiar faces that drift through Westminster watering holes. We were chewing the fat, solving the world’s problems in between rounds.

At one point, a friend’s girlfriend — a producer at GB News — asked me a simple question: How does an MP actually get punished?

This was right in the thick of the Owen Paterson debacle. I casually explained the procedure — the Standards Committee, suspension, recall, the lot — and thought nothing more of it.

Then at 6am the next morning, my phone buzzed. Bleary-eyed, half-asleep, I answered. “What are you doing?” they asked. “Trying to sleep,” I mumbled.

Next thing I know — “Could you explain what you said last night on air? We’ve got two others covering the wider story but need someone to do the process.”

Nervous, I said yes. I arrived at the studio expecting to pop in for a quick line or two. Instead? They had me solo for eight minutes.

From that accidental debut, to now sitting in the presenter’s chair — it was never the plan. But here we are.

Pacing, Practising, and Outfit Chaos

Once the reality of hosting hit me, the nerves kicked in — hard. I spent the next 24 hours pacing around the house, talking to myself — even more than usual — rehearsing lines, testing intros, running through scenarios.

And then there were the outfits. Jacket on, jacket off. Shirt, no shirt. Tie, no tie. I must’ve changed clothes every 30 seconds. My floor looked like an explosion at Savile Row.

The Announcement I Wasn’t Meant to Make

I’d been holding off on posting anything because the I’s needed dotting and the T’s crossing before I could officially announce it.

But no one had told my old friend and the man who really brought me into Talk TV Andre Walker. Here can I also thank Executive Producer Chuck Thomas, he’s been a real champion of mine and recommended me to Kevin for his show. Thank you for taking the risk on a complete unkown.

On his show with Asher Gould, Andre very kindly told the entire world — well whoever was awake at something silly o’clock to tune in — because I was hosting.

So, cat out of the bag. I hadn’t even posted or told anyone else it could potentially happen. But honestly? I didn’t mind. Andre’s been a huge help throughout my media journey. We lock horns (and I suspect we always will), but we’ve got each other’s backs when it counts. I was genuinely touched.

The Power of Support

From there, the messages started pouring in. Friends, fellow commentators, political contacts, even people I hadn’t heard from in years — all wishing me luck.

It was incredible — and humbling. Yes, it added a bit of pressure (suddenly this wasn’t just about me and a studio crew anymore), but the warmth and encouragement meant everything.

One message in particular made me smile — a cheeky note from Kevin O’Sullivan himself. Wishing me well — but with a very clear instruction: “Look after my show!”

Quite right too. I took that very seriously. I care about The Political Asylum being the “Friday Friend” is the a highlight and something I look forward to even when it’s been a long day. I care about that show, it’s host and the audience a great deal, and it was an honour to keep Kev’s chair warm — even for one night.

The Team That Made It Work

Two people made the show possible.

First — Samara Gill. I’ve been working with Samara’s team since my very first appearance on the show, just over a year ago — 24th May 2024, I certainly wasn’t ambushed by cake for the anniversary, Kevin didn’t even do the show that week. From that first show to now, Samara has been a constant source of support and calm professionalism.

We’ve built a great working relationship — and I was hugely grateful to have her in my corner for this one. She’ll also be featuring on my own show, Breaking Embargo, and I’m very keen to work with her more in future. She’s simply top class.

Second — Chloe Dobbs. Now, Chloe I haven’t worked with much before. But she dashed straight to the studio (London Friday rush hour a challenge in itself) and hit the ground running like a total pro. Sharp, composed, and exactly what I needed on the night. After this, I’d happily jump at the chance to work with her again.

Navigating the Debates — and the Reform Temptation

I wanted to make the show my own. No one can do Kevin O’Sullivan but Kevin O’Sullivan — so I didn’t even try. Honestly, my blood pressure doesn’t go that high and frankly no ones should

Instead, I leaned into the theme of ‘Breakups’ — political, party, ideological — and probably had a little too much fun with the monologue.

As a movie buff, I ended up littering it with rom-com references — and after about twelve rewrites, I had to force myself to stop.

The show itself was a joy to host.

I discussed the cracks in Reform UK with Chloe. Given my well-known Reform critic hat, this was prime meat — but as host, I consciously held back and let the conversation breathe. Chloe was sharp and insightful as ever — a really strong segment.

Sam Armstrong was brilliant on The Green Party and the wider rise of sectarian politics. His insights were spot on — engaging, thoughtful — and it was a pleasure to have a familiar face on screen.

Getting hold of a politico on a Friday who isn’t in the pub is no mean feat, but Sam allowed us to have a really rich discussion on representation, democracy, the dangers of radicalism, and so much more.

With Debbie Hayton, we tackled transgender issues — a vital conversation. Debbie, a trans woman herself who is deeply critical of large swathes of the LGBTQ community’s political direction, brought real clarity to the discussion. I had been part of a discussion with Debbie before and I found it intreging so when Samara said they were available, it was a solid yes!

We covered the reaction to the recent UK Supreme Court ruling, and as a gay man I found myself empathising a lot — I share that critical approach. I also managed to sneak in a little rant about Pride becoming a corporate sell-out, which landed well — I was very pleased with that part of the show.

And finally, with Rick Gates, former Trump campaign manager, we discussed Elon Musk and Trump ‘breaking up.’

This was honestly my favourite exchange of the night. Rick clearly enjoyed a few of my jokes — and I think was a little taken aback that I knew so much about the MAGA movement and was taking a different angle than most journalists. It made for a fun, punchy chat.

I also took calls — something I’ve always been slightly wary of. Not because I dislike the audience — far from it — but because I really struggle with strong accents down the line.

Chloe and I even joked in the ad break that we were doomed — but as it turned out, the callers were fantastic. Warm, engaged, and full of praise. I was genuinely relieved and very thankful.

Live TV — And That Awkward 14 Seconds

Live TV always delivers a surprise or two.

At one point, I jumped to a break slightly early — and ended up with an awkward 14-second gap, it felt an enternity but we rode that one out. Later in the show I thought there was a clip coming in for the next show, it’s standard to promo it so I did what Kev does, throws to a clip but there was nothing. There was no clip. Luckily I laughed it off, blamed the gallery for setting me up and no one had noticed— you learn how long a second actually is in those moments. It was torture. Nails of a chalkboard, a crying baby on a 4 hour flight and an out of tune drunk kareoke singer combined levels of excuriating torture.

But you know what? Little gaffes like that are what make live TV charming. It’s raw, it’s human, and it reminds you: this is real.

Why It Matters

I’ve worked hard for these opportunities. There’s been a lot of sacrifice, a fair bit of stress — and I didn’t want to let down Kevin, the team, or the audience who care about it. I am painfully aware that they have welcomed me in, despite some of my views, I wanted to do them proud as well. The size of responsibility was the looming elephant in my mind

I won’t lie I have watched it back. I watch everything back, kind of like a match analysis but despite so much praise I was terrified to see. Now, there’s always more to work on — slowing down wouldn’t hurt! — but on the whole I’m hugely proud of what we built that night. The debates were strong, the conversations honest — and the response has been incredible.

One thing has lingered with me though. A Whatsapp message hit me harder than I expected. A viewer texted in to say that as a gay man, it was refreshing — and comforting — to hear me and Debbie openly and critically discuss the state of modern Pride.

He said it made him feel less alone. That really struck me. I’d never fully appreciated how much it can mean simply to hear someone say what you’re thinking — out loud.

It reminded me why these debates and shows matter — why it’s worth doing this the right way.

So many people have said they enjoyed the show. That means more than I can say.

And yes Kev — I looked after your show. Promise.

And Finally…

I’ll be honest — the thrill of doing it, even once, was incredible. I had an amazing time.

I’m more than happy and still think it a privilege to be invited onto shows of any kind — to give my honest opinion, with my usual mix of sarcasm and exasperation firmly in tow but that thrill, of seeing your name up there, well consider this a growing ambition now

Despite the nerves and the inevitable doubts, I’ve realised it’s something I genuinely want to do more of. I set 2025 as a major push year. I launched my own content, saying yest to new opportunities in the media space and try new things. I’ve played many things safe, not been too risky, a long time regret but this experience has turned many plans upside down.

It’s a privilege to have the chance — and if I’m asked again, I’ll be there. Grateful, humbled — and with plenty more to say — followed by a signature eyeroll

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