There's a reason musicians are Lefties - it's all about class I read some lively comments on Twitter this week suggesting that classical musicians were lacking in respect for and praise of Margaret Thatcher. It's an interesting topic and it reminded me of two points about musicians: we tend to be fairly apolitical (or at least politically naive), and we're only a few generations from being the equivalents of servants, thus naturally Left-leaning. I was out of the UK as a care-free, fun-loving student for much of Mrs Thatcher's time in Downing Street and, as I didn't own a television in New York, never read the newspapers, and am old enough to have lived before the internet, she is a shadowy figure in my memory. Indeed, I recall one morning in 1982 walking along a practice corridor at the Juilliard School and meeting my friend Ezequiel Viñao. "Did you know we're now officially at war?" asked the Argentine composer with a smile. Oh, are we? Gosh. Anyway, let's go and have a coffee. What pieces are you working on at the moment? Many musicians in the darker years of the 20th century made a heroic stance against fascist or communist dictators and their atrocities, but some who continued to live under totalitarian regimes during those times seemed unwilling to engage with politics. Perhaps we can criticise what we perceive as their laziness, their collaboration, their pusillanimity, but we must remember that musicians are not writers; they have a differently focused intellect. Where prominent writers are expected to have a socially, politically responsible voice, musicians sometimes find meaning only in the voice which produces melodies with vocal chords. I suspect that many readers of The Daily Telegraph find annoying the preponderance of many artists" liberal, Left-wing views, but it's worth remembering that the superstar, highly paid musician is a recent phenomenon. Before the 20th century, to be a successful musician was merely to be one who was employed. A few, such as Liszt, Paderewski and several singers, had phenomenally lucrative careers, but they were rare - and Liszt gave all of his money away, travelling by choice in a third-class rail carriage. In most situations a musician was like a cook, someone brought in to provide a specialised service; and even when the more celebrated ones were offered a place at an aristocratic dining table, they were often seen as something of a performing monkey. Fast-forward to the 21st century. Someone was telling me only the other day that when playing a concert in an English country house a few years ago he had to arrive via the servants" entrance. I rest my case ("but not on the Queen Anne desk please"). Robert Mann, a founding member of the Juilliard String Quartet and its first violinist for 50 years, told me that he never passes a busker or street musician without stopping and contributing some small change. He sees them as colleagues - less successful ones perhaps, but still "comrades." And my piano teacher, Gordon Green, believed that musicians should be paid less than refuse collectors because they were doing something they enjoyed and which carried its own reward. Whether such socialism is foolish naivety or heroic idealism is a matter of opinion, but what is certain is that, however many CDs are sold or tours sold out, the sound waves themselves are free. Musicians, at their best, have kept this insight alive, reluctant to grasp or exploit something so fragile, so universal - like the natural beauty of lilies in a field. "Even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these..." as one first-century idealist put it. Stephen Hough will play Rachmaninov's 'Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini' and other works on the first night of the Proms, July 12