Humour me and imagine a world in which a woman’s hotness was not seen as her defining quality. Granted, this is sort of like imagining a world without weather, or Richard without Judy, but bear with me. Back towards the beginning of this century, the brilliant writer Ariel Levy wrote about the fetishisation of female hotness in Female Chauvinist Pigs: “Hotness has become our cultural currency … Hotness is not the same thing as beauty, which has been valued throughout history. When it pertains to women, hot means two things in particular: fuckable and sellable. The literal job criteria for the stars of the sex industry.”

Which brings us to Theresa May. You’ll be thrilled to know – and I’m sure May will be absolutely delighted to know – that this week a male writer for the Spectator officially declared her to be hot; hotter, even, than Jemima Khan, just in case you’ve ever found yourself flummoxed by this debate. Congratulations, May! You’ve bested Harriet Harman, who was infamously deemed not hot in the Spectator by Rod Liddle in 2009, and even though Liddle has since admitted that piece might have been a bit de trop, that hasn’t stopped another sweaty Speccie writer from trying to rehash a similar furore all over again, while writing with one hand.

In case anyone is worried that all this chat about female politicians’ shaggability might be a little sexist, don’t worry! “I can just hear the chorus of leftwing women complaining that, here we go again – judging women in politics by their looks!” writes Cosmo Landesman, the Spectator’s Theresa May fan. “Well, actually, looks have nothing to do with it. By that criteria, I should be swooning over Jemima instead of drooling over Mrs May.”

You see? Not about looks. So, really, to say that May gives him a massive love boner, and Khan doesn’t, is proof of the writer’s feminist credentials. Really, May should thank this writer for fantasizing about her, seeing as she’s such a moose and all, amirite?