Politics

There’s one thing that bothers me a lot about the letter sent by ‘more than 70’ MPs to the director-general of the BBC complaining about bias in its coverage of the Brexit debate. There are 650 MPs in the House of Commons, of whom 330 are Conservative. So does this mean that more than 570 of our elected representatives, including the vast majority of Tories, think the BBC is doing a bloody good job and is an exemplar of impartial reporting? If so, I suspect they have been secretly lobotomised — perhaps by members of the BBC’s impeccably fair and impartial editorial board. In the dead of night. Silently, without

In what I like to think of as The Spectator’s back garden — most people call it St James’s Park — the cherry trees are in blossom. There’s a group of six or seven of them, clouds of bright pink, in the corner nearest 22 Old Queen Street. They’re worth a look, even if you think blossom’s a bit of a girlie interest. There are more dotted around. A little grove of white cherries on the south side of the lake is ranked among the best in London, according to one website: ‘A simple point-and-shoot photo of these trees somehow transforms itself into an impressionist painting.’ But we shouldn’t rank

It can be cruel, the way politics plays out. At the very moment George Osborne was telling the bemused staff of the London Evening Standard last week that his working life in politics had obscured a passionate desire to become a newspaper editor, a familiar figure could be seen in the fresh meat department of the Whole Foods supermarket almost directly underneath the paper’s Kensington newsroom. That man was David Cameron, and inevitably someone with journalistic instincts spotted him, snapped him on her phone, and tweeted it. Stephen Robinson and James Forsyth discuss Cameron and Osborne’s diverging retirement plans: We congratulate ourselves on the ‘here today, gone tomorrow’ nature of

For someone who once branded his own Cabinet colleagues ‘bastards’ — and two decades later said he only called them bastards because they were bastards — John Major has of late become weirdly sensitive to rough, colourful language. He’s peeved at what he calls ‘ultra Brexiteers’, who are big meanies, apparently. These ultras are launching ‘vitriolic and personal attacks’ he says, and they seem hell-bent on ‘shouting down anyone with an opposing view’. Their behaviour is ‘profoundly undemocratic and totally un-British’. In short, they’re bastards. Just say it, John. Major’s not at all vitriolic attack on those he considers ‘ultra’ — people who are ‘excessive; extreme; fanatical’ — is seen

So I am feeling a bit better about my lack of radio experience. These are exciting times for free movement of labour and with Westminster under the control of Tory and Labour cabals, lovely jobs outside Parliament are tempting. George Osborne is no more qualified to edit the Evening Standard than Tristram Hunt to run the V&A, but now art and antiquities scholars have dried their tears, that is turning out splendidly. The late Nick Tomalin pointed out that success in journalism requires only ‘ratlike cunning, a plausible manner, and a little literary ability’. The trade is temperament as much as technical skill and Osborne has a journalistic love of

Was it a case of fate or a helpful tip off from No 10 that meant Brexit Central‘s Brexit party fell on the same day Theresa May announced the date she would trigger Article 50? Either way, it made for a joyful atmosphere as the likes of Vote Leave’s Matthew Elliot, Nigel Evans and James Cleverly gathered in the Barley Mow to celebrate the UK’s impending departure from the EU. Leading the celebrations was arch-Brexiteer Jacob Rees-Mogg, who used his speech to rebuff suggestions that Leave supporters lack answers; ‘we know the road — and it’s a good road, it’s a high road. It’s a high road that we built before —