Society

Letters to the Editor | 30 September 2006

Home is a classroom From Amanda CraigSir: I was interested in Rod Liddle’s article ‘Who is right about home schooling?’ (23 September) because I too have children at top private schools and have noticed large gaps in their general knowledge thanks to the detestable National Curriculum. However, the solution is quite simple and does not necessitate removing them from their friends. Stick a map of the world and a map of Britain up where they have meals, and they will learn geography. Make a time-line with them, and they will learn history. Listen to Radio Three in the car if you do a school run, and they will learn more

Spectator Wine Club September Offer

Order the wines onlineI’m just back from my annual trip to Adnams of Southwold. It’s one of those events that makes the end of summer rather more tolerable. Their shop in town (they are soon expanding into other parts of booming East Anglia) is cool, elegant and stuffed with exciting wines which Adnams’ buyers have found all over the world. A tasting of a few dozen wines is followed by lunch at the Crown Hotel, which has some of the best food in the region. And I am invariably spoiled for choice; every single one of the wines they suggested this year was of the highest standard, and trimming the

Secret admirers: Frogs and rosbifs

The relationship between Britain and France, in business as in so many other things, seems always to have been built on incomprehension, or at least on very different points de vue. The two former great colonial powers are said to have built their empires on very different institutional models, for example: trading posts or comptoirs de commerce for the British Empire, schools and cultural centres for the French. In other words the Frogs did it for la gloire, while the British just ventured abroad to make money. Yet ever since the Industrial Revolution, these two ancient enemies have been co-operating widely with each other in trade, transfer of technology, business

Martin Vander Weyer

Smarties are moving to Hamburg, but smart science is thriving in York

If you happen to be reading this on Friday evening, I invite you to picture me making merry at the Michaelmas Feast of the Company of Merchant Adventurers of the City of York, which is about to celebrate its 650th anniversary and of which I am a rather junior member. Our founders — mercers trading in cloth with the Low Countries and the Baltic ports — were the drivers and networkers of York’s mediaeval economy, and its first exponents of globalisation. But our merriment this week will be dampened by the latest impact of that phenomenon on the city. Nestlé, owner of the confectionery factory that is still universally referred

The genetic code genius failed to kill faith

On one day last year, when I was in Princeton to give a lecture, I separately bumped into three scientists writing books about God. Lee Silver’s Challenging Nature is about the parallels between Christian fundamentalism in America and eco-fundamentalism in Europe; Dean Hamer’s The God Gene was written (he told me) to pay off a credit-card debt left him by a profligate boyfriend; and Bob Wright’s book on the Almighty is still unpublished. They are not the only ones. The philosopher Dan Dennett has recently published Breaking the Spell while Richard Dawkins’s eagerly awaited (by friends and enemies) The God Delusion is now in the bookshops. This fascination with God

A handshake with Clinton on the golf course

It was all there at the K Club last weekend — just what it had always said on the tin It was all there at the K Club last weekend — just what it had always said on the tin. The passion, the best golf and golfers in the world, a glorious setting, rain, sweat and tears, an emphatic triumph for Europe and, of course, the craic. I was on the front row of the barrier overlooking the 16th green on Sunday — where I had stood for four hours — and shook the hand of Bill Clinton as he walked to the scene of the denouement. A short time

Rod Liddle

A miserable waste of space

One of the lovely things about writing for The Spectator is that we have an extremely knowledgeable and well-read audience, so there is no need to explain the sort of stuff that one would need to explain were one writing for the Sun, say, or the New Statesman. An article about humorous verse of the mid-19th century, for example, would not require a preamble making it clear that Edward Lear did not, in his spare time, make jet aeroplanes. You know that already. This holds true for an agreeably diverse range of subjects; however, there is always an exception to test the rule. Occasionally a subject crops up which lies

Variety turn

In Competition No. 2462 you were given the lines, ‘A man so various that he seemed to be/ Not one prime minister but twenty-three …’ (a rejig of Dryden’s famous couplet) and asked to continue. Dryden’s Zimri, the various man who ‘in the course of one revolving moon/ Was  chemist, fiddler, statesman and buffoon’, is a caricature of George Villiers, 2nd Duke of Buckingham, who killed in a duel the Earl of Shrewsbury, while the countess, Buckingham’s lover, watched, disguised as a page. The incident is commemorated at Cliveden, where it happened, by flowers arranged in the shape of crossed swords, with the date 1667. The standard this week was

Marshall arts

The last telephone call from Michael Marshall was in midsummer. Should we sit together at the half-century dinner of the cricket-writers’ club at Lord’s? Sorry, I hadn’t booked. I wish I had. Sir Michael died this month at 76. For a devout Yorkshireman, I suppose having to be Conservative MP for Arundel for 32 years had compensations for pastoral cricketing even if the castle’s fabled private ground was a world away from Sheffield’s Bramall Lane where Marshall, as he said, ‘learned the lore of the game’ long before his father sent him south to Bradfield. Michael was fully entitled to be an eminence of our cricket-writers’ club, not only for

Dear Mary… | 23 September 2006

Q. On holiday in Greece this summer there was an area of unexpected tension in our house party. As we lay by the pool it seemed that everyone was reading either Wicked! by Jilly Cooper, or A Much Married Man by Nicholas Coleridge, or Title Deeds by Liza Campbell, or The Guynd by Belinda Rathbone. This meant that at no time could you enjoy discussing any of those titles you had read or were reading yourself because, as soon as you started, you would elicit a scream from a neighbour begging you to stop on the grounds that they hadn’t read it yet or hadn’t yet reached the passage you

Restaurants | 23 September 2006

Pasha describes itself as a ‘Moroccan oasis in the heart of Kensington’, which you would do well to remember, as who hasn’t, at some time or other, found themselves in the heart of Kensington thinking, ‘I do so wish there was a Moroccan oasis around here’? It is just round the corner from the Albert Hall, on Gloucester Road, at the end of a small parade of chi-chi boutiques and bakeries so artisan that the price of a loaf of bread is pretty much up there with the cost of the average car. It’s the kind of place where you don’t so much buy a cake as take a mortgage

Sin city

Germinated on the greed and profligacy of mankind, it’s now the fastest-growing city in the US whose every new building rises like a brittle, neon flower out of the scorched earth. Sticking up its finger to the notion of living anywhere close to within its means, it leeches resources from its neighbouring states only to repay them by polluting their airspace. It currently boasts a reckless 360-gallon water usage per capita despite being built on a spot so arid that a sky-diving honeymooner squeezed into a white nylon Elvis suit is more likely to land on your head than a single drop of rain. I’m talking, of course, about Las

Diary of a Notting Hill Nobody | 23 September 2006

Monday Look, this thing with the tree isn’t funny. It’s deadly serious. Jed has found out from the ad agency where they got the template and it’s not good news. Terrible showdown with little guy in red specs who looked just like Lord Saatchi’s mini-me. Personally I don’t see it makes much difference that our new logo is based on the first flag of Lebanon. Or that it’s a cedar, not an oak. We have cedars in Britain don’t we? But Jed is distraught and says that when Dave finds out ‘we’re all kofta’ — some form of cockney rhyming slang. Don’t care. Am off to Bournemouth with Jed for

Letters to the Editor | 23 September 2006

Bill’s legacyFrom John O’ByrneSir: Toby Harnden (‘Clinton: Tony and Gordon just have to work this out’, 16 September) states that the former president ‘feels he was cheated of the chance to prove himself while president; so he is anxious to cement his legacy’. What legacy? Bill Clinton is among the most overrated presidents ever. In his eight years in the White House he had plenty of time to ‘prove himself’ but achieved nothing spectacular. For example, his policy of cutting defence-spending left America exposed to terrorist attack (the bill was left to his successor). He had a chance to catch Osama bin Laden after the World Trade Center bombing in

Ancient & Modern | 23 September 2006

A group of gangsters’ molls in Pereira, which evidently has the highest murder rate in Colombia, has decided to withhold sex from their boyfriends until they give up their guns. Inevitably they have been likened to the women in Aristophanes’ comedy Lysistrata (staged in Athens in February 411 bc) whose purpose was to persuade their men to make peace in the war between Athens and Sparta that had been going on for some 20 years. But the Colombian ladies have not been reading their Aristophanes. The point about Lysistrata, the heroine of the play, is that she fully understands the nature of her fellow Athenians, i.e. that the women (in the

The Pope was not attacking Islam

Piers Paul Read says that the controversial nature of the Pope’s address has been missed in the furore over Muslim sensitivities: he was daring to equate Europe and Christendom When he delivered his lecture on ‘Faith, Reason and the University’ in Regensburg last week, Pope Benedict XVI said some provocative and contentious things. His comment on Islam was only one of them, and was by no means the most significant; but quoting the judgment of the Byzantine emperor Manuel II Paleologus that certain aspects of Islam were ‘evil and inhuman’ was the most arresting and has caused a worldwide furore. Some have criticised Pope Benedict for being tactless; others on

Rod Liddle

Who is right about home schooling?

Rod Liddle says that we should leave teaching to the professionals, however much they annoy us, and stop pretending that children benefit from learning obscure languages or how to paint like Cézanne at home I think it was the bit about Cézanne which really got to me. It came early on in last week’s article. Perhaps you read it; my colleague James Bartholomew was explaining how he had intended to tutor his daughter Alex, now that he had taken the liberating decision to remove her from school because the teachers and everybody else were useless. From now on he’s going to teach her at home, or in agreeable bits of

A vision in lilac driving a world-class business

Rupert Steiner meets Bupa chief Val Gooding, one of Britain’s most successful female bosses A silhouette of a faceless giant hangs on Bupa’s atrium wall. The piece is bisected and has vaguely medical undertones, appropriate for the corporate offices of a private healthcare group. But the parallels do not stop there. Bupa has another almost anonymous giant in Val Gooding, its 56-year-old chief executive. She is Britain’s second most powerful female boss, but with very little of the profile many of her male counterparts court and enjoy. Over the past ten years Gooding has turned Bupa around, grown its market share, produced record results and built the business into a