Toby Young has narrated this article for you to listen to.
I thought the Spectator dinner for Michael Gove hosted by Fraser Nelson would be cancelled. To be clear, this wasn’t a dinner where the Ming vase would be passed from one custodian to another, witnessed by the magazine’s general staff. Rather, this was a dinner to celebrate Michael’s legacy as education secretary organised weeks earlier by Rachel Wolf, founder of the New Schools Network, and which Fraser had kindly agreed to host. But – talk about bad timing! – at 1.30 p.m. on the day it was due to take place it was announced that Michael would be succeeding Fraser as editor. That was a bit like Theresa May having agreed to host a dinner for Boris in Downing Street to celebrate his legacy as Spectator editor, only to discover that in the interim he’d ousted her as prime minister. Would it go ahead?
Of course the Pinteresque subtext of the evening was the editorial succession
The answer is yes, obviously. As Fraser said, he could have asked Rachel to hold the dinner at a nearby restaurant, claiming he was exhausted after a difficult day. But that would have made it look like he was unhappy about the appointment, which he wasn’t. So the dinner went ahead.
Apart from Fraser, I was the only journalist, having played a part in making the free schools policy a reality. Every-one else was an ex-minister, a former civil servant or a retired policy wonk: essentially, the brains trust behind Michael’s education reforms.
So that was supposed to be the topic for the evening. But, of course, the Pinteresque subtext was the editorial succession. Could Fraser resist bringing up his and Michael’s disagreement over lockdown? Would the new broom reassure him that Ross Clark wouldn’t be fired, given that Michael is completely captured when it comes to the ‘climate emergency’? Bear in mind that the two hadn’t met since Sir Paul Marshall’s £100 million bid for the magazine. This was their first opportunity to talk – and they’d have to do it in front of an audience!
I arrived early and Fraser showed me into his office – or, as he put it, ‘Michael’s office’. He confessed to having at the last minute ordered some vintage Margaux, knowing that Michael would be presented with the bill at the end of the month. I had thought that we were about to learn Sir Paul had acquired the Telegraph Media Group along with The Spectator and Fraser was to be appointed editor of the Telegraph. Indeed, I had a pitch prepared about making me the movie critic. But Fraser’s body language suggested otherwise. He had the air of a man contemplating a future in which 14-hour days would not be the norm.
After we were seated, Fraser stood up and took the bull by the horns. He welcomed Michael, repeating what he’d been telling his staff all day: the great thing about Gove as an editor is that he knows where all the bodies are buried because he buried half of them himself. Michael, he said, had shown government at its best (free schools) and worst (lockdown), but either way was always inspiring Spectator covers. He also said he was reassured by Michael’s reputation as a boss, inspiring loyalty and affection among those who’d worked for him in different government departments, as was apparent from the presence of so many former colleagues in the room.
Michael then reciprocated, telling Fraser he felt a bit like David Moyes succeeding Alex Ferguson. During his predecessor’s 15 years at the helm, the magazine had put on readers, enhanced its reputation and increased in value from £20 million to £100 million. How could he follow that?
The conversation moved on to school reform, with the general theme being that trying to get anything done in government is incredibly hard. The reason Michael had succeeded is because he and the people in the room spent two years planning everything beforehand; the Lib Dem education minister, David Laws, was surprisingly sensible; and the policy was supported by ‘the Centre’, i.e. Downing Street. I asked how people like me, still involved with schools we’d set up 14 years ago, could protect them from an interfering Labour government and they told me not to worry. ‘This lot are so incompetent they won’t be able to do any serious damage,’ said one former No. 10 policy chief.
Towards the end of the evening, Michael told the assembled company they could ask him anything – he was no longer in politics so he could answer truthfully. When it was my turn, I said the best thing about working for Fraser from a columnist’s point of view is that he never told me what to write or censored anything I’d written. Would Michael be equally hands-off? ‘Write about anything you like,’ he assured me. ‘You have a free hand.’
‘In that case,’ I said, ‘I’ll write about this dinner.’
I hope he’s as good as his word.
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