Society

Saturday

Jeremy Clarke

Low life | 26 November 2011

For 21 years my bike has leant against the wall just inside the garage door. On Monday morning it was gone. Nicked. I loved that old Dawes Galaxy. But I couldn’t work myself up into a state about its theft. I tried anger, I tried indignation, but without success. Good luck to them, I thought. I might be a fool, but I try not to be a hypocrite as well. Besides, I was elated and humbled that morning because the postman had delivered another packet of your jokes; the biggest yet, containing about 60 letters, emails and postcards; all of them miles too late, unfortunately, to be entered in the

Taki

High life | 26 November 2011

Henry Kissinger, writing on American foreign policy, mentions that, according to Dean Acheson, ‘Leaving high office is like the end of a great love affair — a void left by the disappearance of heightened sensibilities and focused concerns.’ Dr K. should know. He was a swinger in his younger days, was among the first to mention that power is one of the greatest of all aphrodisiacs, and knew quite a few beauties in his time. He then married the very graceful and extremely supportive Nancy and has lived happily ever after. Lucky Dr K. I am a great fan of his and consider him a modern Machiavelli, meant in the

The Spectator

Letters | 26 November 2011

Economy pack Sir: Of your ten suggested remedies for the UK economy (‘Get it right, George!’, 19 November), not one mentions the obvious answer: recognise that communications technology is transforming every business and social model on the planet and accelerate Britain’s dozy and halfhearted commitment to invest in its communications infrastructure — broadband and mobile. Give the people the tools and they will generate the growth. Peter Krijgsman Somerset Sir: The big ideas in your last issue will have a limited immediate impact on the one million youngsters out of work; something more radical is required. I suggest that the government spends money created by quantitative easing directly on infrastructure

Charles Moore Charles Moore

The Spectator’s Notes | 26 November 2011

On Tuesday morning, I was sitting reading Jessica Douglas-Home’s vivid new book about the great Delhi Durbar in 1911 (A Glimpse of Empire, Michael Russell). In the background, the Today programme was burbling. I had just got to the bit about the Maharajas paying homage to the King-Emperor. The author describes how the Maharaja of Nawanagar — better known as the great cricketer Ranjitsinhji — though splendid in his silver carriage, was also stony broke: ‘Ranji’s extravagance was much frowned upon in official circles … After the Durbar, he was humiliated by the imposition of a financial adviser upon his administration’. Then on to Today came a man called Horst

Quentin Letts

Diary – 26 November 2011

Nine years ago we moved to Herefordshire from Gloucestershire, where lovely Jilly Cooper was a neighbour. There is less bedhopping here in the Marches, fewer rakes such as Jilly’s character Rupert Campbell-Blacks. Recently, however, we learned that a married friend here was having an affair, bonking away in the marital home like a bonobo monkey. What should we do? Sometime matinee idol Hugh Grant would tell us to mind our own business. Broadsheet columnist Joan Smith on Monday assured the Leveson Inquiry that 21st-century Britain is laid back about marital collapse. Speak for yourself, Joan. I take the view that marriage is a public estate, declarations of love being exchanged

The Spectator

Portrait of the week | 26 November 2011

Home David Cameron, the Prime Minister, said: ‘Getting debt under control is proving harder than anyone envisaged.’ In a speech to the Confederation of British Industry he blamed in part ‘paralysis in the eurozone’. His words came a week before the Chancellor was due to make his autumn statement, and the Office for Budget Responsibility to publish projections for the public deficit, which looked most unlikely to be expunged by the end of this parliament. Mr Cameron had earlier held talks with Chancellor Angela Merkel of Germany and was thought to have discussed a ‘narrow’ amendment to the Lisbon Treaty that would not be subject to a referendum in Britain.

The Spectator

The technocrats’ coup

Just a few weeks ago, calling someone a ‘technocrat’ was a soft insult. The word meant, in effect, an efficient dullard. Now, technocrats appear to be inheriting the earth. They represent a new global elite, and they have recently added Greece and Italy to their empire. When Egypt’s military faced riots on the streets this week, it sought to assuage the crowds by replacing the government with a cabinet of technocrats. The Libyan rebels are doing the same. We have seen two very different types of regime change this year. The Arab Spring is driven by popular uprising; Europe has pioneered the reverse: an uprising of an unelected European elite

Rod Liddle Rod Liddle

Comic timing | 26 November 2011

Ah, so this time Jimmy Carr has fallen foul of the increasingly vociferous Down’s Syndrome lobby. A few weeks back it was Gervais, who used the word ‘mong’, provoking fury among the god-awful bien pensant and the pressure groups. Now Carr has told a joke about those Variety Club Sunshine Coaches used to take Down’s Syndrome kiddies on trips. ‘Why do they call them variety when the kids all look the same,’ he said. Not a very good joke at all (but then I don’t find Carr very funny in general). But the response it elicited was funny. Some grandstanding idiot from the Variety Club said Carr should ‘apologise to

Fraser Nelson Fraser Nelson

Wrestling over cuts

Britain’s economic debate has been reduced to WWE-style wrestling, where two figures adopt semi-comic personas and have at each other for the entertainment of the crowd — while not doing any real fighting at all. So it is with Osborne and Balls. Rhetorically, they are poles apart; one championing cuts, the other spending. But you’ll notice that neither quantifies the cuts. That’s because Osborne is simply enacting an only-slightly-souped-up version of Darling’s plan and the real difference between the two parties is tiny. This was the point of last night’s Newsnight, where David Grossman filed a report (in which yours truly was interviewed) about the great pretend fight between two

Interconnect

Competition: Two bridges

In Competition No. 2723 you were invited to supply an updated version of Wordsworth’s ‘Upon Westminster Bridge’. A reading of the sonnet on Westminster Bridge in September 2002, to commemorate its 200th anniversary, was all but drowned out by the roar of the rush hour. A far cry, then, from Wordsworth’s view of a slumbering city, ‘silent, bare’, dominated by St Paul’s, with fields to the south. It was described thus in a diary entry by the poet’s sister: ‘The houses were not overhung by their cloud of smoke & they were spread out endlessly, yet the sun shone so brightly with such a pure light that there was even

Douglas Murray

After spring, winter

Spring was a long time coming in the dictatorships of the Middle East and North Africa. But when it arrived it was unhesitatingly welcomed by western leaders. William Hague declared the Arab Spring more important than 9/11 and the financial crisis. Barack Obama delivered one of his most mellifluous speeches on the subject. Everyone hoped for the best. But hope, we were reminded, is not quite enough. The shooting of protestors in Tahrir Square by the Egyptian army is the latest sign of something the West seems in no mood to admit: the Arab Spring is giving way to an Arab winter. In the last year we saw uprisings topple

Dot Wordsworth

Never trust a technocrat

 ‘Technocrats?’ said my husband, turning his face from the television and the latest news from Italy, looking at me for a change, and putting his whisky glass down in puzzlement. ‘Aren’t those the chaps who helped Franco out?’ ‘I don’t think they can be exactly the same people still, darling,’ I replied soothingly. But he had a point. It seems strange that we should think politicians more capable simply because they rejoice in the name technocrats, as the men put in to run Greece, Italy and are called. And a technocrat as a caretaker prime minister for Egypt seemed to be just the bone to throw the crowds in Tahrir

Rod Liddle Rod Liddle

Sorry, Ken, but even I know you can’t say that

This week I thought I would offer advice on the sort of things one can and cannot say in public without fear of censure. I realise that I may not be the most obvious person, at this moment in time, to offer such a service. Maybe even the last person. But one has to plough away, give help where it might be needed. And in this particular case, to our Justice Secretary, Kenneth Harry Clarke. So Ken — here’s the last thing you should ever say in public. You should never, ever, as a suffix to a statement, make the claim: ‘And most women agree with me.’ We’ve got to

Daniel W-Drezner

Republicans vs the world

During the 2008 US presidential election cycle, the respected journal Foreign Affairs invited the leading presidential candidates from both parties to outline their views of world politics. All of them responded with essays that, one presumes, they at least read if did not write. This year, ahead of next year’s elections, Foreign Affairs has proffered the same invitation to the leading Republican aspirants. To date, they have all refused or not responded. This parallels the trend of not talking about international affairs in their endless series of presidential debates: mentions of Afghanistan and Iraq are reported to be down 65 per cent from 2008.   One could argue that these

Freddy Gray Freddy Gray

Life of Brian

‘It must be so awfully boring being a fish,’ says Brian Sewell, as he looks out the window at his pond. ‘You can only have sex once a year on a prescribed day. The frogs are just the same.’ We are in his study. It is a large room full of books, mostly big art books. An old German Shepherd lies passed out on the floor. ‘Poor Winckelmann,’ says Sewell, peering down at the dog. ‘She is the love of my life. I can’t bear the thought of her departure. But I know she’s going.’ Sex and death are on Sewell’s mind. His memoirs, Outsider: Always Almost, Never Quite, have

James Bartholomew

Vote for happiness

What makes you happy? If you did not think anybody cared, you could not be more wrong. Your happiness has become a major issue. It is being investigated by professors with regression analyses. It is being fussed over by politicians who want to show their human side. The British government has decided to measure your happiness. Over in Paris, the OECD has recently come out with a major report on well-being. There is a growing band of academics studying your happiness, including Professors Layard and Oswald in Britain and Professors Gui and Becchetti in Italy. One of this growing band of happiness professors is Bruno Frey of the University of

James Delingpole James Delingpole

A refreshing weekend of real conservatism

Conservatism is dead in Britain — as it is in Europe, as it is in most of the world — and if you want to know what the problem is, a good place to start is the one where I’ve just been: the David Horowitz Restoration Weekend in Palm Beach, Florida. Horowitz is a prominent US activist, author and intellectual whose Freedom Center, if you didn’t know better, you might assume was a conservative think tank. But it’s not. As Horowitz reminded us on the first night of our three-day palm-fringed extravaganza of cocktails, fine cuisine, and sound conservatism courtesy of Mark Steyn, Ann Coulter, Herman Cain, Allen West, Baroness

Martin Vander Weyer Martin Vander Weyer

Any other business: Boffins tell us time travel is possible — but sadly not for Northern Rock

I wrote here in July that I was hoping to see history reversed at Northern Rock. Shortly after that, Swiss boffins declared that time travel really might be possible, after discovering they could fire neutrinos through an Alpine tunnel at a fraction faster than the speed of light. But the idea of propelling the privatised remains of the Rock backwards through several decades — to emerge as a mutually owned and socially responsible provider of mortgages to sensible savers in the north-east — was never high on the Treasury’s agenda. The bank whose 2007 collapse heralded 2008’s financial armageddon was always going to be sold to the highest bidder at

Roger Alton Roger Alton

Spectator Sport: Coming of age

Bracing times for those of us who are part of the winter fuel allowance generation — FAGs, as we like to call ourselves. At Haydock Park, the courageous Kauto Star thundered back into the national conscience with a spine-tingling win in the Betfair Chase. The 11-year-old is an equine superstar in the mould of Red Rum and Desert Orchid, and the sight of him showing his Gold Cup conquerors, Long Run and Sam Waley-Cohen, a clean pair of hindquarters can’t make Boxing Day at Kempton come soon enough. Kauto’s trainer Paul Nicholls was probably still enjoying a celebratory drink when 34-year-old Darren Lockyer, as Australian as a sweaty singlet, ended

Friday

Peter Hoskin

From the archives: A nation ablaze

A more recent gem from the archives than we would normally mine, but with the forthcoming government report into the riots — and with Fraser’s and David’s recent posts — we reckoned you might care to (re-)read Harriet Sergeant’s piece from this summer. It formed the centrepiece of an issue largely dedicated to those fiery disturbances, and which also included thought-provoking articles by Theodore Dalrymple and Ravi Somaiya. Here it is: These rioters are Tony Blair’s children, Harriet Sergeant, The Spectator, 13 August 2011 On the third day of the London riots I received a telephone call from Mash, a member of a Brixton gang who I befriended three years