Society

Thursday

Lucy Vickery

De haut en bas | 27 March 2014

In Competition 2840 you were invited to provide an extract from the autobiography of a modern-day celebrity, ghostwritten by a literary great. Where would Jordan’s literary ambitions have been without the creative input of Rebecca Farnworth? And how many chapters would Wayne Rooney have managed without the guiding genius of Hunter Davies? Behind many a bestselling biography is an invisible man or woman, the unsung hero who has done most of the work but gets virtually none of the credit. There were some inspired pairings: Charles Dickens and Jamie Oliver; Charlotte Brontë and Susan Boyle; Stephen Fry and Samuel Johnson. Commendations to C.J. Gleed, Noel Petty and Josh Ekroy. The

John McTernan

Why Simon Stevens – more radical than most Tories – may save the NHS

In a valedictory interview, Sir David Nicholson was quite frank about the state of the health service that he has run for the last eight years. ‘In its current form,’ he declared, ‘the NHS is unsustainable.’ It is hard to imagine Simon Stevens, who takes over as NHS England chief executive this week, having to say that when he leaves. His friends know him as an experienced reformer, a policy expert and a radical. His CV causes some suspicion in Tory circles — he is a former adviser to Tony Blair (I’m also guilty in that respect) and was a co-author of the last Labour government’s health reforms — but

Liam Mullone

Why I won’t let my children learn French

[audioplayer src=”http://traffic.libsyn.com/spectator/TheViewFrom22_27_March_2014.mp3″ title=”Liam Mullone and Freddy Gray debate whether it’s a good idea to let children learn French” startat=1467] Listen [/audioplayer]My children won’t learn French. If their school tries to force the issue, I’ll fight tooth and nail. There’ll be the mother of all Agincourts before I let it happen. It’s not that I have any problem with the language, even though it has too many vowels and you have to say 99 as ‘four-twenty-ten-nine’, making it impossible (I imagine) to sing that song about red balloons. It’s just that I want my children to be successful, and learning French makes no business sense. There’s a moral issue too, but

Ross Clark Ross Clark

The equal pay bomb that could wipe out public sector jobs

I have just decided that my work is of equal value to that of the feminist supermodel Cameron Russell. Neither of us, admittedly, is quite as useful as a plumber, and I can’t claim to be of much use promoting swimwear. But otherwise I reckon we are a pretty close match. We both tart ourselves around and while my work doesn’t involve a lot of physical input, I would like to think that it requires a slightly higher contribution from the brain department. There then arises the question: should I not be paid as much as she is? Ludicrous? Perhaps, but no more so, I think, than what is going

Owen Matthews

Let Putin have Crimea – and it will destroy him

David Cameron says that Russia’s annexation of Crimea ‘will not be recognised’. Ukraine’s Prime Minister Arseniy Yatsenyuk promises that ‘we will take our territory back’. They are both misguided. Let Crimea go: it will be the making of Ukraine and the end of Vladimir Putin. Without Crimea, there will never again be a pro-Moscow government in Kiev. Ukraine will have a chance to become a governable country — a strongly pro-European one with a Russian minority of around 15 per cent. Putin will have gained Crimea but lost Ukraine for ever. And without Ukraine, as former US national security adviser Zbigniew Brzezinski famously said, ‘Russia can no longer be an

Aidan Hartley

A £50 million search for love

 Laikipia When I first knew Michael Cunningham-Reid he was such a strict teetotaller that he would not eat trifle for pudding in case there was sherry in it. For years, not drinking was his leitmotif, along with big cigars and a thirst for gambling, racehorses and catching marlin with just two lines out on the Indian Ocean. At Michael’s funeral at his Lake Naivasha farm, my wife Claire was the first to reveal she had secretly given him a glass of wine. Julian then confessed he had done the same and said over the microphone, ‘Own up, who else?’ Mourners under the fever trees wriggled on their hay-bale seats and

Mary Wakefield Mary Wakefield

In defence of self-deprecation

I think the ancient English art of self–deprecation may be dying. I don’t mean self-deprecation in its distorted and most exported form: pug-eyed rogues like Hugh Grant getting away with murder — more usually infidelity — by grinning and rubbing their hair. That’s different. That’s ‘bogus self-deprecation’, as my friend Stuart Reid used to say. What I mean is the assumption that you shouldn’t swank or push yourself forward; that in conversation it’s more polite, civilised, to downplay your own achievements, even and especially if you’re a great success. I began to worry at a conference I was invited to last week: a day of lectures and advice for young

Martin Vander Weyer Martin Vander Weyer

Why I’ll join the silver stampede to cash in a pension

At the beginning of the last decade, a young man who claimed to be my ‘premier banker’ paid me a visit. He was accompanied by his boss, evidently there to assess the junior’s performance. Once upon a time — at least in popular imagination — bank managers were kindly, cautious, long-term advisers, but by the turn of the new century they had become shameless product-pushers with targets to fill, and it was obvious from the body language of both visitors that this poor chap had to sell me something by the end of the call or his job was on the line. So I took his ‘advice’, signed for a

Ed West Ed West

Game of Thrones tells the story of Britain better than most histories

A young pretender raises an army to take the throne. Having recently learnt of his father’s beheading, the adolescent — dashing and charismatic and descended from the old kings of the north — vows to avenge him. Despite his youth, he has already won in the field and commands the loyalty of many of the leading families of the realm; he is supported in this war by his mother, who has spirited away her two younger boys to safety. Pitted against them is the Queen, proud and strong-willed, and more of a man than anyone around her, battling for the inheritance of her sadistic young son. This is the premise

James Delingpole James Delingpole

How I learned to stop worrying and love the Bomb

Just as every child now thinks he’s going to die of global warming, so those of us who grew up in the Seventies and Eighties all thought we were going to die of nuclear war. We knew this because trusted authorities told us so: not just the government and our teachers but even the author of Fungus the Bogeyman. When the Wind Blows (1982) was the downer of a graphic novel which Raymond Briggs wrote as our punishment for having enjoyed Fungus. It was about a nice, retired couple called Jim and Hilda Bloggs who somehow survive the first Soviet nuclear strike, unwittingly smell the burned corpses of their neighbours,

Lloyd Evans Lloyd Evans

Where’s a goofy, flat-chested shrew when you need one?

Ray Cooney, the master of farce, is back. These days he’s in the modest Menier rather than the wonderful West End. His 1984 caper, Two Into One, opens with Richard, a starchy Tory minister, plotting an affair with a sexy blonde researcher, Jennifer. Richard decides to attempt a daring double bluff by booking Jennifer into a hotel in Westminster where his gullible wife Pamela is already installed for the weekend. Pamela meanwhile starts an indiscretion with Richard’s bungling junior, George, but their dalliance is compromised when Jennifer’s husband Ted turns up and is mistaken for George’s ‘boyfriend’, whom George has invented to conceal his affair with Pamela. Improbable? You bet.

Olivia Cole

Editor’s letter

Ahead of the Scottish referendum in September, and as the country prepares for the Commonwealth Games, Spectator Life caught up with a new generation of fine Scottish actors who seem destined for Hollywood, from Joanna Vanderham, star of The Paradise, to Laura Fraser of Breaking Bad and Richard Madden and Rose Leslie, who you may recognise from Game of Thrones.  We also took the chance to canvass their views on independence. Speaking of new talent, I’m delighted to feature the novel Shotgun Lovesongs by Nickolas Butler, a midwestern story of family, fame and friends. It’s one of my favourites in a long time, and if you are packing for a beach or,

Wednesday

Steerpike Steerpike

Nick vs Nigel debate: The room spun

Nick Clegg had been given the night off babysitting; but, after the poll verdict on tonight’s EU debate with Nigel Farage, he may wish he’d stayed at home with the kids. As the dust settled, the Deputy Prime Minister was bundled into a car and fled the field of battle. Meanwhile, Nigel Farage headed for a victory lap at the Reform Club, where his party donors had been watching. Backstage, Westminster’s hack-pack was necking cheap vino and Pret sandwiches after carrying out a spectacular volte face. Initially ‘the spin room’ had called the duel for Clegg, on both style and substance. But, as news of the Sun/YouGov poll filtered through

Hamish Macdonell

Alistair Darling needs football fans—not financiers—to save the union

Has the No camp got it wrong? This may seem an odd question to ask when the unionists are still leading in the referendum race but there is no doubt that the gap between the two sides of the independence debate has tightened. According to a new YouGov poll in the Times today, when the don’t knows are discounted, the No camp is on 58 per cent (down three points) and the Yes camp is on 42 per cent (up three points). A gap of 16 points is still healthy with six months to go but this is a considerable distance from the polls a year ago which gave the No camp

Fraser Nelson Fraser Nelson

The genius of the Spectator’s Peter Robins

Some of the best journalists in Britain rarely, if ever, have their names in print. One of them is my colleague Peter Robins, the genius chief sub editor (or, technically, production editor) of The Spectator. In his Times column today (£), Matthew Parris has a story about Peter. Here it is: ‘If you sometimes feel you’re getting gobbledegook from this columnist you should realise how much worse gobbledegook you’d get were it not for that most self-effacing of species, the sub-editor. I blush to remember the errors from which this page’s subs have rescued me. But I believe The Spectator’s Peter Robins touched new heights last week when, after I

Freddy Gray Freddy Gray

Cocks-in-socks: charity has become exhibitionism

The digital-age male is a pathetic creature. Shorn of all his old manly attributes, he has to puff himself up. He does this, as Clive Martin on Vice magazine pointed out recently, by ingesting large amounts creatine, lifting weights, thinking about his clothes (sorry, look), and calling everyone a legend, because if everyone is a legend then he must be a legend, too. We all become heroes, as Mike Skinner — legend! — said. Oh, and he takes selfies. Lots and lots of selfies. Witness the latest #cockinasock fad: men snapping themselves naked, their penises in socks, their torsos tensed, so as to post the images online in the name

Tuesday

Jonathan Aitken

Take it from an ex-con — the outrage over prison books is misplaced

When I was doing my time in HMP Standford Hill, a strange pair of heavily perfumed Korans and Bibles were delivered to one inmate, ostensibly to help him with his ‘studies in comparative religion’. As intended, the perfume threw the sniffer dogs off the scent. But a suspicious prison officer found a significant quantity of heroin stuck between the pages of these holy books. This was an example of ‘parcelling it,’ con-speak for getting drugs into jails. So Chris Grayling, the Justice Secretary, has a point now that he is trying to restrict the supply of books into prisons. But not much of a point: such examples are real but

Isabel Hardman Isabel Hardman

Despite low-key launch, Tory ‘managed migration’ campaign should worry No. 10

Mark Field’s new Conservatives for Managed Migration group hasn’t attracted overwhelming public support from MPs. When it launched this morning, it only had two Tory MPs openly signed up, with Field telling BBC News that ‘I think we have got quite a few supporters’ but refusing to give an exact number. This might be causing No. 10 some satisfaction, although Downing Street sources are insisting that they are ‘relaxed’ about the group. It does, after all, argue that there is a ‘fundamental problem’ with the Conservatives’ net migration target. And there is considerable irritation among the Prime Minister’s advisers that MPs feel the need to set up new groups whenever

Mary Dejevsky

Ten fateful forks in the road to Crimea

Regret suffuses the post mortem on many a conflict, with hindsight recommending alternatives that were far less obvious at the time. Crimea is different. Rarely can the fateful choices — those critical forks in the road — have been so evident as those that have led Russia, Ukraine and the West into this conflict. A different choice at any one of these 10 junctures could have averted immediate danger and indicated a route back to safety: 1. Last summer it became apparent that Russia and the EU were increasingly at loggerheads over Ukraine It was Vladimir Putin’s Eurasian Union vs the association agreement on offer from Brussels. As November drew

Douglas Murray

FGM is a shaming indictment of multiculturalism and mass-immigration

A number of interesting things have happened recently: The Law Society has provided legal guidance to ensure that Muslims in Britain can have their wills judged according to Sharia. BBC Newsnight hosted an in-studio row between three Muslims over whether one Muslim should be allowed to say or do anything that is deemed religiously insensitive by any other Muslim. Majority opinion seemed to be ‘no’. Then there has been huge excitement that, after decades during which tens of thousands of girls in Britain were genitally mutilated, charges have for the first time been brought against some suspected perpetrators of this horrific crime. Just in case anyone is lost in all this