|This is one of the strongest reasons I became a Conservative.|
I am now only three years from 30 which, apart from being something of a last port-of-call for adulthood, will also see the end of my Conservative Future membership. I needed to know exactly why I was in this and what I wanted to do with my continued Conservative party membership.
It was certainly not to swan around in white tie and 'pretend to be posh' - as a certain Sunday newspaper might have it. But the manner in which this purely private and, let's face it, rather superficial social activity was blown out of all proportion by the press encouraged me further to really get down why I call myself a Conservative.
My belief in free markets, personal responsibility and the small state factored greatly in my decision to join the party in February 2007. But these convictions do not significantly set me apart from a large number of Liberal Democrats or, indeed, the wider European liberal movement. I could quite easily have remained nonpartisan and joined a group like the Freedom Association or Adam Smith Institute.
No, it was a far more emotional - and therefore much more powerful - reason, based on personal experience, which prompted me to join. I regularly kept a journal in those days which charts, in rather intimate detail, a radical personal and intellectual journey.
One snippet in particular stands out from the myriad of economic quotes from Friedman and Hayek. It was my reaction to David Cameron's 2006 Conference speech. That year he laid down in plain but forceful English the emotional benefits of marriage. Specifically, on how it provides the necessary foundation for the citizen to really make something of their lives and, in doing so, contribute to the national economy.
The tone of the speech is so far from the rhetoric of a prime minister understandably preoccupied with the continued economic woes of our island nation that I felt it necessary to reproduce said snippet in full. Speaking in Bournemouth, Mr Cameron said;
"I'm not naive in thinking that somehow the state can engineer happy families with this policy or that tax break. All I can tell you is what I think. And what I think is this. There's something special about marriage.
"It's not about religion. It's not about morality. It's about commitment. When you stand up there, in front of your friends and your family, in front of the world, whether it's in a church or anywhere else, what you're doing really means something.
"Pledging yourself to another means doing something brave and important. You are making a commitment. You are publicly saying: it's not just about 'me, me, me' anymore. It is about we: together, the two of us, through thick and thin. That really matters."
The speech had a profound effect on the mind of that 21-year-old art student watching Conservative Party Conference at home on television. It was probably the first time in my life I began to think of marriage as a good idea.
But this was not purely based on Cameron's words. His message had touched upon something I was already beginning to experience. Because, as he went on to say, this commitment does not simply apply to the traditional definition of family.
This was, of course, a reference to his support for civil marriages (which has now grown to a planned parity between heterosexual and homosexual marriage) but to me it sounded as though he was describing my very own little 'family'.
We may have been only five close friends sharing a house but there were things about the arrangement which had already had a profound effect on my mental state. It sounds ridiculous now but the commitment we made in putting down deposits on the house, together with the 12-month tenancy contract, provided me with a much-needed sense of stability.
Putting an equal share in the kitty for the weekly shop reinforced this and the practice of one member of the household cooking dinner for everyone else each day of the week kept us close.
I was going through a difficult patch at university at the time, having realised I may have made a grave mistake in even going, but every day I felt strengthened by the fact that, whatever I went though, my 'family' was always there for me at the end of the day while we sat around the dinner (or rather, coffee) table.
Being able to relate that experience to Cameron's moving description of marriage fundamentally changed my view of that institution and, in the coming months, what Conservative party membership could offer me.
So it struck a chord with me reading, exactly six years later, Jill Kirby's words in the ConservativeHome Daily newspaper on Tuesday in which she asked of Cameron 'What had happened to that passion?' It was her opinion the prime minister only spoke passionately on the subject these days in reference to gay marriage.
Now, I fully support the Government's plans to include homosexuals in the definition of marriage. It does, after all, only apply to civil marriage as religious marriage is not recognised in law. But this must not come at the expense of making clear, at every opportunity, the emotional benefits of the institution as a whole.
Because, however much we may dislike it, people vote with their emotions. Furthermore, even men like Friedman and Hayek knew that a liberal democracy and free market economy can only work if people have strong familial and community networks of support. If you destroy those foundations, or allow them to wither, statism is inevitable.
John Redwood, a man I greatly admire, said 'The Conservative party is a tax cutting party or it is nothing'. But I say it would be poor shadow of its former self if it ever ceased to be the party of family and of family values - however unconventional the model.