Society

Saturday

Taki

High life | 15 October 2011

New York Here is the 64 million dollar question: is there a moral case against soaking the rich? I can’t think of a better place to ponder such an issue than right here in the womb of capitalism, the Big Bagel, taking into account that within the narrow corridor that is Manhattan Island some of the greediest, as well as grubbiest, human beings live and work. The second richest American, a Nebraskan, says that the state should, but he would, wouldn’t he? I have never warmed to Warren Buffett because behind that cuddly, avuncular manner is a shrewdy who always looks out for number one. I know, I know, he’s

The Spectator

Egypt’s new theocracy

The massacre this week of Coptic Christians in Cairo stands as a bloody corrective to the idea that the ‘Arab Spring’ was a wonderful uprising of the masses against dictators. Revolutions are not, in themselves, causes for celebration if they create a vacuum that can be filled by evil. The deliberate mowing down of dozens of peaceful demonstrators by armoured vehicles (hundreds of others were shot at point-blank range by Egyptian soldiers) is the starkest indication yet that the land of the Pharaohs is fast becoming a fundamentalist Islamic state, with the blessing of its powerful military establishment. The slaughter was the worst act of sectarian violence in modern Egyptian

The Spectator

Portrait of the Week – 15 October 2011

Home The Bank of England launched out on a further £75 billion worth of quantitative easing, but refused to buy government bonds maturing in 2017 because traders had driven up the price. Typical households will not return to the level of income they enjoyed in 2009 until 2015, according to the Institute for Fiscal Studies. The Olympic stadium is to remain in public ownership after the Games, the government confirmed, and not sold to West Ham. Unemployment rose by 114,000 from May to August to 2.57 million. The BBC decided to cut 2,000 jobs as part of savings of £670 million a year. Dave and Angela Dawes from Wisbech won

Ozzy Osbourne

Diary – 15 October 2011

I wake up early at my house in Hidden Hills, California, and go downstairs to make myself some toast and a pot of my special atomic coffee (you double brew the beans, add a double shot of espresso, and stay awake for days). And there on the table as I walked into the kitchen was a bottle of champagne that my wife Sharon had left open from the night before. Now, a few years ago, this would have been a disaster for me: I would have polished off that champagne for breakfast, disappeared for a month, then tried to come home by driving my Ferrari through the front door. But

Toby Young Toby Young

Toby Young: A weekend in sole charge

Caroline went away last Friday, leaving me alone with our four children for the weekend. Given that they’re aged eight and under, and I’d never been in sole charge before, it was something of a test. Could I cope? I hadn’t realised quite how regimented my children’s weekends are until I sat down and digested the three pages of instructions Caroline had left. Saturday mornings, for instance, are parcelled out into 30-minute slots, with tennis lessons, karate lessons and God knows what else. If I was late for one appointment it would create a domino effect, throwing the whole schedule out of whack. There was no room for error. Friday,

Mary Killen

Dear Mary | 15 October 2011

Q. I live in a two-bedroom flat. It is not spacious but happens to be in the centre of Mayfair. By and large I welcome overnight guests. However, among their number is a couple who were essentially friends of my former girlfriend rather than me but who have become used to the convenience of the location. I find the hypocrisy inherent in their visits tiring and wonder how, without a confrontation, I can discourage them from inviting themselves? — Name withheld, London W1 A. Time was when James Bond wannabes living in Mayfair would keep a half fridge in the bedroom. It meant they could effortlessly pop a cork and

Charles Moore Charles Moore

The Spectators Notes

Fox-hunting, as Lord Burns famously put it, ‘seriously compromises the welfare of the fox’. Everyone agrees that the welfare of Dr Fox, the Defence Secretary, has been seriously compromised, so I suppose everyone is right. But amid all the aerating about standards in public life and ministerial codes, no one seems to worry who now exercises power in these situations. The answer is civil servants, and people should be worried by this. It was the permanent secretary of the MoD who was asked to look into Dr Fox’s case, and the Cabinet Secretary who took charge. Why is this considered appropriate? Civil servants are, as their name suggests, supposed to

Tanya Gold Tanya Gold

Tanya Gold on food

Dorsia is the fictional restaurant in Bret Easton Ellis’s excellent novel American Psycho. The psycho, a banker called Patrick Bateman, longs to secure the 8.30 p.m. slot at Dorsia, but he can never get it; instead he walks through Manhattan killing other bankers, and sometimes prostitutes. Dorsia is like Jay Gatsby, an ever-receding metaphor, except it does breadsticks. And now it has opened in London, on the Cromwell Road, courtesy of a quartet of Swedes, whom a friend who understands clubland calls ‘ocean-going club fucks’. It is a private members’ club, with a nightclub in the basement and a bar above, but the restaurant will take anyone. You cannot telephone

Dot Wordsworth

Gibbous

‘A gibbous moon,’ my husband observed the other night, as indeed the moon must be for almost half the time. But when he asked me where the word came from, I could hardly say. That is because, as a girl, I was denied a proper classical education. I did know where to find out, though, and it comes straight from the Latin gibbus, ‘hunchbacked’, which hardly gets us much further. (The initial hard g in the English word is anomalous.) The related Greek word is kuphos, but this is not the word Homer used in the description of Thersites in the Iliad where William Cowper in his translation wrote: ‘Gibbous

Peter Jones

Ancient and modern: Austerity in Athens

Last time Pericles showed how a real politician dealt with the severe austerity measures he had persuaded the Athenians to adopt if they were to win the battle against Sparta in 431 bc (i.e. abandon their lands and come to live inside Athens’ protective walls): he pointed out that these measures meant that he and the rich would lose their vast properties and the income they generated. So last week the Greek parliament took this hint and slapped on a property tax. Politicians will obviously be very keen to pay it to prove they are not the cushioned shysters Athenians take them to be. But in summer 430 bc it

The Spectator

Letters | 15 October 2011

Members only Sir: Charles Moore (Notes, 8 October) makes some apposite comments about this year’s Conservative conference. This was my 19th annual conference and I feel disinclined to continue to attend despite being a past branch, constituency and area chairman. It is no wonder the attendance by party members was down: Manchester is not one of the most attractive cities in England, to say the least, and accommodation near the centre is expensive. The venue is inadequate with few rooms being of a suitable size for meetings, and many fringe meetings were held too far from the centre. The echo in the main hall was disturbing. Unless the party hierarchy

Tim Price

Investment special: The zero era

The Bank of England’s latest announcement of quantitative easing, widely referred to as QE2, prompts as many questions as it does answers — particularly for investors and pension-holders. Under a QE regime, money printed out of thin air is used to purchase government bonds from banks and other private sector investors. The theory then has it that long-term interest rates will fall, and banks will have more money to lend to eager borrowers. There’s just one problem with this cunning plan: it doesn’t work. It did not work in Japan, the first country to flirt with QE. Richard Koo, chief economist of the Nomura Research Institute, calls QE ‘the 21st

Merryn Somerset-Webb

INVESTMENT SPECIAL: The kids can wait

The government wants you to save more. You might think that odd for two reasons. First, because if you are an average person you’re unlikely to have much extra to save; your mortgage payments may be lower than they were, but what the financial crisis has given you with one hand it is ripping away with the other. High inflation is destroying the purchasing power of your net income. Secondly, if you watch the news at all you will know about the paradox of thrift. If we all start saving at once our horribly ill-balanced, consumption-based economy won’t be able to cope: economic growth will continue to collapse and we

James Delingpole James Delingpole

When the world ends, will I know how to cook our cat?

 ‘Oh God, you realise if it gets really bad we might have to end up eating that,’ I said, meaning our fat cat Runty. The Fawn started making upset noises. She’s very fond of Runty. My problem wouldn’t be so much the sentimental aspect as the practical one. Just how do you go about skinning and cooking a cat, when the power’s most likely to be gone and you’re long since out of barbecue charcoal? Which bits are safe to eat? Does it taste like chicken? ‘Don’t be ridiculous. It’s never going to get that bad,’ she said. ‘How do you know?’ I said. ‘Well London would need to be

The Spectator

Your nominations for the Spectator Threadneedle parliamentarian awards

Voter apathy? Don’t you believe it. Ever since we asked our readers to nominate this year’s best parliamentarian, our digital post bag has been full to bursting. Nominations have come from as nearby as Westminster and as far away as Australia. They have spanned all three major political parties, and Ukip besides. And they have been by turns witty, insightful and impassioned. This really is democracy in action. One early frontrunner is the Conservative backbencher Philip Davies. Reader Steve Mullins praises him as someone who ‘defends us almost single-handed against the massed ranks of pressure groups and sanctimonious political busybodies who want to dictate what we can say, do and

William Cash

Say no to wind farms: Selling our birthright

A few weeks ago, I attended a planning seminar at Ripley Castle in Yorkshire organised by the Historic Houses Association (HHA). It was a chilling presentation which contained a clear message: the current planning proposals — which close for consultation next week— pose a serious threat, not just to our countryside, but to our heritage. With the removal of Public Planning Statement 5 (PPS5) from the draft National Planning Policy Framework (NPPF), there are now few safeguards to prevent developers building 300ft-high industrial wind turbines right next to historic castles, new sprawling social housing next to the walls of stately homes or 12th-century village churches. No, no! I can already

Matt Ridley

Say no to wind farms: Shale of the century

The arguments for wind farms just became obsolete. We’re entering an era when gas will be cheap, plentiful – and green Which would you rather have in the view from your house? A thing about the size of a domestic garage, or eight towers twice the height of Nelson’s column with blades noisily thrumming the air? The energy they can produce over ten years is similar: eight wind turbines of 2.5 megawatts (working at about 25 per cent capacity) roughly equal the output of an average Pennsylvania shale gas well (converted to electricity at 50 per cent efficiency) in its first ten years. Difficult choice? Let’s make it easier. The gas well

Ysenda Maxtone Graham

Textbook error

If young people don’t want to learn languages, it might be because the teaching materials are so drearily trendy Tonight’s homework: learn ‘Bonjour’, ‘Je m’appelle,’ ‘Comment t’appelles-tu?’ ‘Ça va?’ ‘Ça va bien’, ‘Pas mal’, and ‘Qu’est-ce que c’est?’. And the tired child, already sick to death of French, having been taught it since the age of three but never methodically, starts climbing the Everest of trying to master these horrible, spiky phrases, with their sudden apostrophes, their ­unexplained hyphens, and the dangly fives under some but not all of the ‘c’s. ‘Try to remember: there’s an “s” on the end of “t’appelles”,’ we say. The child keeps forgetting. And we

Tom Hollander

Top gear | 15 October 2011

The exciting thing about showbiz is, you never quite know where you are. I thought of a good test some weeks ago. I phoned Denee, my agent’s assistant. ‘Can you ring Audi and see if they’ll give me a car. But for goodness sake be discreet.’ I know it sounds grasping, but I’d been forced to it. Orlando Bloom had a A4 3.0 TDI A4 when we did Pirates, which he let me drive up Regent Street because he was worried about his carbon footprint; Kate Winslet was in a Q7 last year in Cornwall when I got lost following her because I couldn’t understand her directions; and Michael Gambon

Christopher Booker

Private Eye’s private life

The first editor of the magazine turns a quizzical eye on 50 years of a ‘national institution’ Not long after the 50th birthday of what was once the most successful humorous magazine in Britain, one of the best-known writers of the day delivered a damning judgment. Whereas in its early days, Max Beerbohm wrote in 1899, Punch had made a reputation by its youthful irreverence, wittily lashing out in all directions, it had now become staid and respectable, ‘a national institution’. How strangely has this been echoed in the coverage being given to the 50th anniversary of Punch’s successor, similarly hailing Private Eye as a ‘national institution’. Little could its