As much of the world breathes an unnecessary sigh of relief that the Mayan Apocalypse did not come to fruition, at least one person in the United Kingdom must be wishing that it had. But unfortunately for David Cameron, he really does have to lead the government right up to the next election and (one suspects) not a second longer.
Rarely can John Lennon's perennial inquiry "And so this is Christmas and what have you done?" resounded more reproachfully in a British politician's ears.
Now, Sordel must acknowledge from the off that Gordon Brown did little more of any actual value, but at least he must have been fully occupied by whimpering, chewing his nails, mopping his nose with a dirty handkerchief and, of course, holding his breath when anyone came into his office looking for him.
Cameron, however, seems to be completely idle. Which is perhaps hardly surprising that he has no money to do anything. If he had an elder sister looking for some quality smooching time with her boyfriend, she would have to advance him the tuppeny bit to get himself down the pictures and take the long way home. Rarely has someone of high net worth been so administratively down on his uppers.
The measure of the situation is perhaps given by the way the government approaches problems these days. Rather than actually read the Leveson Report, for example, Cameron came straight out and said that he was not minded to legislate on it, but would the press please come up with their own ideas?
Faced with tax evasion by big corporations, the government did not actually attempt to close tax loopholes, but instead invited the British Public to shame those corporations into paying up.
Defeated by the complexities of the education system, the government now encourages people to set up their own local schools, and hospitals cannot be far behind. Indeed, if its relationship with the police continues in the direction it has been taking, it won't be long before social order is delivered by posse.
Perhaps not all of this, however, is a bad thing. Upset with civil war in Syria, Cameron wondered aloud who would rid him of this troublesome Assad, but otherwise kept his head down, an approach whose lack of heroic statesmanship is at least offset by a little practicality and humility.
Doing nothing has a virtue all of its own, as demonstrated by the fact that no one at the BBC got into any trouble at all for shelving that Newsnight investigation into Jimmy Savile. Perhaps not doing something is the new doing something.
Personally (and as demonstrated by the thin nutshell pickings of recent months) Sordel feels rather ahead of the fashion in this respect, and welcomes Cameron to join him on the sidelines, where we shout just as much but are not required actually to break a sweat.
Whatever else happened in 2012, we can expect less of it in 2013.
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Changing Trains
In the grand scheme of things, the fiasco surrounding the award of the West Coast rail license to FirstGroup counts for little, but unfortunately it reminds us of what we already knew: ministers are responsible not for their departments, or to ordinary people. The only responsibility of a minister these days on which he or she will be evaluated by his or her prime minister is the fervour with which they hold the line.
Richard Branson & Virgin Trains said, over and over again, that FirstGroup could not possibly run the West Coast line on the terms upon which the contract had been awarded to them. Possibly that sounded like sour grapes from an incumbent who had been cheated of a lucrative contract but - if it were you or me - I think we might have just checked.
After all, the accusation from Virgin was not vague.
Time and time again, however, those tasked with defending the decision came out and said that everything was fine, no need to worry. Justine Greening, then Transport Secretary, is subject of an article in the Belfast telegraph from 28th August that is retrospectively damning. The article points out that the award to FirstGroup had been called into question by Virgin trains, The Labour Party and the Commons Transport Select Committee yet she still intended to sign the contract.
She was only prevented from signing the deal - and thereby committing taxpayers to a deal which would have cost them hundreds of millions of pounds - by legal action on the part of Virgin.
Moreover, her successor was hardly less staunch. Last month he told the Transport Select Committee: "I am satisfied that due diligence was done by the department and therefore the intention is to go ahead with the contract when we can. We are determined to press ahead with the award that we have made[.]"
When a Minister of the Crown tells MPs that he is satisfied with his department's due diligence, that satisfaction is supposed to predicated on something. Yet now the government is trying to shrug their failure on this question. We are told that "ministers could not be expected to delve into the minutiae of the [..] complex deals."
But of course, there was no need to delve into details. Virgin had already identified where the problem lay, and all it needed was for one of out Transport Secretaries to have the humility to think: "these guys are suing us ... maybe just check that out."
Had they done so, the scale of the blunder would have been immediately obvious, because FirstGroup was essentially placing a one-way bet against the UK taxpayer. A company worth £900 million was saying that if enormously optimistic forecasts of growth were achieved, then it would pay back £13.3 billion in cash by 2028. Repayment was staged in such a way that FirstGroup repaid comparatively little until almost nine years into the contract term.
In order to secure the considerable revenues of the West Coast line (£824 million last year) FirstGroup were only being asked to guarantee a sum of £190 million, which would have been what the taxpayer would have been able to recoup if FirstGroup went bust as the higher payments fell due.
You don't have to be a Dragon to reject this deal, yet at least two ministers backed it with extraordinary zeal, just as (one need hardly add) Jeremy Hunt backed the Sky deal before them. Presumably they, like FirstGroup, calculated that if a week is a long time in politics then 2021 was an eternity away.
The immediate loss to the taxpayer is being estimated at £300 million, which we can doubtless measure in terms of the firm cost-saving measures favoured by this government.
Richard Branson & Virgin Trains said, over and over again, that FirstGroup could not possibly run the West Coast line on the terms upon which the contract had been awarded to them. Possibly that sounded like sour grapes from an incumbent who had been cheated of a lucrative contract but - if it were you or me - I think we might have just checked.
After all, the accusation from Virgin was not vague.
Time and time again, however, those tasked with defending the decision came out and said that everything was fine, no need to worry. Justine Greening, then Transport Secretary, is subject of an article in the Belfast telegraph from 28th August that is retrospectively damning. The article points out that the award to FirstGroup had been called into question by Virgin trains, The Labour Party and the Commons Transport Select Committee yet she still intended to sign the contract.
She was only prevented from signing the deal - and thereby committing taxpayers to a deal which would have cost them hundreds of millions of pounds - by legal action on the part of Virgin.
Moreover, her successor was hardly less staunch. Last month he told the Transport Select Committee: "I am satisfied that due diligence was done by the department and therefore the intention is to go ahead with the contract when we can. We are determined to press ahead with the award that we have made[.]"
When a Minister of the Crown tells MPs that he is satisfied with his department's due diligence, that satisfaction is supposed to predicated on something. Yet now the government is trying to shrug their failure on this question. We are told that "ministers could not be expected to delve into the minutiae of the [..] complex deals."
But of course, there was no need to delve into details. Virgin had already identified where the problem lay, and all it needed was for one of out Transport Secretaries to have the humility to think: "these guys are suing us ... maybe just check that out."
Had they done so, the scale of the blunder would have been immediately obvious, because FirstGroup was essentially placing a one-way bet against the UK taxpayer. A company worth £900 million was saying that if enormously optimistic forecasts of growth were achieved, then it would pay back £13.3 billion in cash by 2028. Repayment was staged in such a way that FirstGroup repaid comparatively little until almost nine years into the contract term.
In order to secure the considerable revenues of the West Coast line (£824 million last year) FirstGroup were only being asked to guarantee a sum of £190 million, which would have been what the taxpayer would have been able to recoup if FirstGroup went bust as the higher payments fell due.
You don't have to be a Dragon to reject this deal, yet at least two ministers backed it with extraordinary zeal, just as (one need hardly add) Jeremy Hunt backed the Sky deal before them. Presumably they, like FirstGroup, calculated that if a week is a long time in politics then 2021 was an eternity away.
The immediate loss to the taxpayer is being estimated at £300 million, which we can doubtless measure in terms of the firm cost-saving measures favoured by this government.
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
Not Just A River In Egypt
Occasional anti-hero of these pages Lazarus Galloway has been in the news this week for suing, or threatening to sue, the NUS for libel. Apparently some spotty would-be Labour MP from the NUS has described Galloway as a "rape denier".
Strictly speaking, the person doing the denying would be Julian Assange, who has consistently claimed to be innocent of the charges made against him by two women by Sweden. Galloway managed to get himself in trouble by claiming that these charges themselves, if proven, did not amount to rape. (Leave aside for a moment the considerable issue of whether they could be proven to a reasonable legal standard of certainty.)
Whatever Assange's likelihood of successful prosecution, however, Galloway clearly fancies his chances of suing the NUS. His record on legal actions is, of course, enviable, having relieved The Daily Telegraph of a considerable sum and agreed out-of-court settlements with The Christian Science Monitor (libel) and The News of the World (phone hacking). Libelling Galloway is like putting Brer Rabbit in the briar patch.
In any case, the "rape denier" charge is a bizarre one. Galloway wasn't denying that rape takes place, or that rapists should be prosecuted & punished. If the model for this form of deplorable behaviour is - as seems likely - Holocaust denial, then the pattern fits very poorly. Holocaust deniers - in the face (it needs hardly be laboured) of overwhelming evidence to the contrary - assert that the systematic execution of Jews by Nazis never happened. Galloway was claiming that if it happened as reported, it wasn't a crime.
(The rape, that is.)
One thing is nevertheless clear from all this. If Assange did rape two women in Sweden, then his crime was very felicitous indeed to his opponents, since it is a crime which very few people (and not even someone as outspoken as George Galloway) will defend.
Maybe the U. S. government is just that lucky.
It's a strange wind, though, that brings windfalls to both the U..S. administration and George Galloway.
Strictly speaking, the person doing the denying would be Julian Assange, who has consistently claimed to be innocent of the charges made against him by two women by Sweden. Galloway managed to get himself in trouble by claiming that these charges themselves, if proven, did not amount to rape. (Leave aside for a moment the considerable issue of whether they could be proven to a reasonable legal standard of certainty.)
Whatever Assange's likelihood of successful prosecution, however, Galloway clearly fancies his chances of suing the NUS. His record on legal actions is, of course, enviable, having relieved The Daily Telegraph of a considerable sum and agreed out-of-court settlements with The Christian Science Monitor (libel) and The News of the World (phone hacking). Libelling Galloway is like putting Brer Rabbit in the briar patch.
In any case, the "rape denier" charge is a bizarre one. Galloway wasn't denying that rape takes place, or that rapists should be prosecuted & punished. If the model for this form of deplorable behaviour is - as seems likely - Holocaust denial, then the pattern fits very poorly. Holocaust deniers - in the face (it needs hardly be laboured) of overwhelming evidence to the contrary - assert that the systematic execution of Jews by Nazis never happened. Galloway was claiming that if it happened as reported, it wasn't a crime.
(The rape, that is.)
One thing is nevertheless clear from all this. If Assange did rape two women in Sweden, then his crime was very felicitous indeed to his opponents, since it is a crime which very few people (and not even someone as outspoken as George Galloway) will defend.
Maybe the U. S. government is just that lucky.
It's a strange wind, though, that brings windfalls to both the U..S. administration and George Galloway.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Your Cheating Heart
The Times leader today has a lesson for those of us interested in the ethical status of tax avoidance: "Tax avoidance is not justified solely by the plea that it is within the law. Tax avoidance is a way of playing the system to gain reward that has not genuinely been earned. It is, indeed, a form of cheating."
Not so, O mighty Some-guy-behind-an-editor's-desk. If a game has rules and you play within the rules, then you are not cheating. There is no "spirit of the rules" to a game: Fool's Check is not a friendly thing to do to someone, but it is an exploitation of a position on which the rules of Chess pass no comment. In Chess, if you're stupid enough to walk into Fool's Check, tough luck.
While tax avoidance does, therefore, seem to have some sort of ethical character, it is precisely not cheating. (Which is just as well, because I'm not sure that cheating is immoral either, in and of itself.)
You might counter: this is not a game, it is people's lives & livelihoods. And you'd be right. But for someone to be cheating on the tax non-game, you'd need to show that there are two parties to the relationship, and most of us do not sign up to be taxed.
In the extreme, it's like saying that you would be cheating not to mention the fiver you have in your back pocket in the course of being mugged. Tax money is not a voluntary payment and most of us have it subtracted by our employer before we ever get our hands on a wage.
Before you tell me that there's an implicit Social Contract ... who told you that? Was it the guy who has your wallet, by any chance, and is haring down the nearest ally to blow your money on foreign wars and bail-outs for bankers? Did he mention that he was only going spend your money on the National Health Service and the Police Services before or after he relieved you of your watch & wedding ring?
Moreover, HMRC does not play within the rules of a game: it makes the rules. But the most ghastly rules ever made with regard to taxation is this: you are now regarded as morally culpable if you do something deemed intended to avoid tax.
Imagine that you are driving your car at 49 mph in a 50 mph speed limit, when you are pulled over by the police. It seems that driving at 49 mph is now deemed as penalty avoidance and the police rely on those penalties to support policing in the area. You have a car more than capable of 130 mph, you wealthy bastard. Stop grinding the faces of people who can only afford a bicycle.
Then when you get home there's a letter from HMRC condemning you for attempting to avoid VAT by saving your money rather than spending it: they have ordered a new television for you and charged your credit card accordingly. Oh, and they find that you could afford the mortgage on a house in a higher Council Tax band, so the furniture van will be calling next Thursday, some time between midnight and midnight.
Oh, and if it's against the law to enter into a scheme to avoid paying tax, there will be a lot of people after the next election looking very shame-faced ... because avoiding tax has always been the strongest reason for voting Conservative.
Not so, O mighty Some-guy-behind-an-editor's-desk. If a game has rules and you play within the rules, then you are not cheating. There is no "spirit of the rules" to a game: Fool's Check is not a friendly thing to do to someone, but it is an exploitation of a position on which the rules of Chess pass no comment. In Chess, if you're stupid enough to walk into Fool's Check, tough luck.
While tax avoidance does, therefore, seem to have some sort of ethical character, it is precisely not cheating. (Which is just as well, because I'm not sure that cheating is immoral either, in and of itself.)
You might counter: this is not a game, it is people's lives & livelihoods. And you'd be right. But for someone to be cheating on the tax non-game, you'd need to show that there are two parties to the relationship, and most of us do not sign up to be taxed.
In the extreme, it's like saying that you would be cheating not to mention the fiver you have in your back pocket in the course of being mugged. Tax money is not a voluntary payment and most of us have it subtracted by our employer before we ever get our hands on a wage.
Before you tell me that there's an implicit Social Contract ... who told you that? Was it the guy who has your wallet, by any chance, and is haring down the nearest ally to blow your money on foreign wars and bail-outs for bankers? Did he mention that he was only going spend your money on the National Health Service and the Police Services before or after he relieved you of your watch & wedding ring?
Moreover, HMRC does not play within the rules of a game: it makes the rules. But the most ghastly rules ever made with regard to taxation is this: you are now regarded as morally culpable if you do something deemed intended to avoid tax.
Imagine that you are driving your car at 49 mph in a 50 mph speed limit, when you are pulled over by the police. It seems that driving at 49 mph is now deemed as penalty avoidance and the police rely on those penalties to support policing in the area. You have a car more than capable of 130 mph, you wealthy bastard. Stop grinding the faces of people who can only afford a bicycle.
Then when you get home there's a letter from HMRC condemning you for attempting to avoid VAT by saving your money rather than spending it: they have ordered a new television for you and charged your credit card accordingly. Oh, and they find that you could afford the mortgage on a house in a higher Council Tax band, so the furniture van will be calling next Thursday, some time between midnight and midnight.
Oh, and if it's against the law to enter into a scheme to avoid paying tax, there will be a lot of people after the next election looking very shame-faced ... because avoiding tax has always been the strongest reason for voting Conservative.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Some Guy Behind The Editor's Desk
Sordel learnt a valuable lesson from the example of Jonathan Aitken.
For those too young (or perhaps too old) too remember him, Aitken was one of what seemed at the time a great many Conservative politicians forced to resign by various scandals last century. This one is rather more interesting to us today than some of the others because it involved the Saudis, but what people tend to remember is not the scandal itself but the speech that Aitken made when embarking upon a catastrophic libel action that landed him in prison for perjury:
If it falls to me to start a fight to cut out the cancer of bent and twisted journalism in our country with the simple sword of truth and the trusty shield of fair play, so be it, I am ready for the fight. The fight against falsehood and those who peddle it.
And the lesson that Sordel learnt from this episode is that the clearest evidence available to us that someone is a scoundrel is the grandiloquence with which they appeal to high principle.
At which one turns to Michael Gove.
Gove - whom under normal circumstances one would have dismissed as a pompous nitwit perhaps shortly before he opened his mouth but certainly shortly thereafter - has managed to hold much of the country thrall beneath his mesmeric, piscine glassiness during his tenure as Secretary of State for Education. He is rather like an unsettling child who, having been liberated from the need to blink by genetic abnormality, settles all arguments with a staring competition.
"Good fellow, Gove" we mutter nervously, leaving him in the classroom at break to eat flies and cogitate on future improvements to the English Baccalaureate.
His appearance before the Leveson Inquiry yesterday revealed, however, the man's Inner Aitken as he proceeded to lecture Lord Leveson about the Freedom of the Press and admonish him pre-emptively for seeking to curtail it in any way.
Gove (like Aitken as it happens) is a former journalist who finds himself on the Westminster side of a revolving door. Presumably having been rendered giddy by passing through it, Gove seemed to have forgotten himself completely, regarding his testimony as an opportunity to bloviate insufferably in a manner that is fairly characterised by Esther Addley in The Guardian.
Clearly his dizziness was infectious as well, since it was clear from the tone of voice employed by both Robert Jay and his judicial master that their eyes were rolling almost as persistently as Gove's vainglorious oratory. Go watch the full performance if you can find the time.
Clearly such a man is not to be contained in my Promethean nutshell: like the Press itself he strides free of such bounds bearing the simple sword of truth and the trusty shield of fair play.
Still: it might be appropriate for him to remember that those editors of whom he speaks in tones befitting deities did all put their trousers on one leg at a time. The Press is all very well in abstract, but in particular some of them might prove to be the sort of odious tick who would presume to lecture a judge on his public duties for the sake of striking a public pose.
In such cases it is surely justified to extend the right to freedom of speech only grudgingly and with scant reason for celebration.
For those too young (or perhaps too old) too remember him, Aitken was one of what seemed at the time a great many Conservative politicians forced to resign by various scandals last century. This one is rather more interesting to us today than some of the others because it involved the Saudis, but what people tend to remember is not the scandal itself but the speech that Aitken made when embarking upon a catastrophic libel action that landed him in prison for perjury:
If it falls to me to start a fight to cut out the cancer of bent and twisted journalism in our country with the simple sword of truth and the trusty shield of fair play, so be it, I am ready for the fight. The fight against falsehood and those who peddle it.
And the lesson that Sordel learnt from this episode is that the clearest evidence available to us that someone is a scoundrel is the grandiloquence with which they appeal to high principle.
At which one turns to Michael Gove.
Gove - whom under normal circumstances one would have dismissed as a pompous nitwit perhaps shortly before he opened his mouth but certainly shortly thereafter - has managed to hold much of the country thrall beneath his mesmeric, piscine glassiness during his tenure as Secretary of State for Education. He is rather like an unsettling child who, having been liberated from the need to blink by genetic abnormality, settles all arguments with a staring competition.
"Good fellow, Gove" we mutter nervously, leaving him in the classroom at break to eat flies and cogitate on future improvements to the English Baccalaureate.
His appearance before the Leveson Inquiry yesterday revealed, however, the man's Inner Aitken as he proceeded to lecture Lord Leveson about the Freedom of the Press and admonish him pre-emptively for seeking to curtail it in any way.
Gove (like Aitken as it happens) is a former journalist who finds himself on the Westminster side of a revolving door. Presumably having been rendered giddy by passing through it, Gove seemed to have forgotten himself completely, regarding his testimony as an opportunity to bloviate insufferably in a manner that is fairly characterised by Esther Addley in The Guardian.
Clearly his dizziness was infectious as well, since it was clear from the tone of voice employed by both Robert Jay and his judicial master that their eyes were rolling almost as persistently as Gove's vainglorious oratory. Go watch the full performance if you can find the time.
Clearly such a man is not to be contained in my Promethean nutshell: like the Press itself he strides free of such bounds bearing the simple sword of truth and the trusty shield of fair play.
Still: it might be appropriate for him to remember that those editors of whom he speaks in tones befitting deities did all put their trousers on one leg at a time. The Press is all very well in abstract, but in particular some of them might prove to be the sort of odious tick who would presume to lecture a judge on his public duties for the sake of striking a public pose.
In such cases it is surely justified to extend the right to freedom of speech only grudgingly and with scant reason for celebration.
Friday, May 4, 2012
Cameron Behind
A report in The Huffington Post this morning suggests that Tory activists have been using tactical voting methods in the London mayoral elections in an effort to push Liberal Democrats candidate Brian Paddick into a humiliating fourth or fifth place.
Even The Huffington Post's own article suggests that the number of voters using this tactic may be very low, but it is sadly indicative of the times that it should even have been formulated.
Ever since the Tories romped back to power, they have behaving like someone who has stepped in something, desperately scraping the soles of their shoes in order to remove the Lib Dems. Indeed, for the first year of the coalition government both Labour and the Conservatives found common ground in their desire to return the Lib Dems to their former state of total unelectability.
That was all very well when the Conservatives were working towards the idea of a clean victory in 2015, but right now hopes of that seem to be draining away.
Moreover, events may yet conspire to strengthen the Lib Dems' hand. Remember Business Secretary Vince Cable, whose responsibilities to oversee News Corp's bid for BSkyB were removed from him and given to Jeremy Hunt? At the time Cable was made to look very stupid by a Daily Telegraph sting (which was later the subject of a successful complaint to the Press Complaints Commission). Now, however, he looks remarkably like the only British politician to shake hands with the Murdochs and retain his small change & pocket watch.
To a different extent the same can be said of Clegg himself. Having been variously depicted as hapless, clueless and ineffectual, he can scarcely be portrayed now as having anything more than a bystander role in the policies that have proved most unpopular for the coalition. While George Osbourne was preparing his politically catastrophic budget, Clegg & Cable were pushing the idea of a "Mansion Tax".
As fig leaves go it may be small, but it beats going around stark bollock naked.
Of course, the recovery in Lib Dem fortunes has been predicted more often than the end of the world, the only difference between them being that at some point the world assuredly will end. Of less concern to the Conservatives than the rise of the Lib Dems, however, will be their own fall: something in which they are likely to prove the principal architect. Had they kept the Lib Dems relatively strong, they might have prevented Labour from jumping from third place into first in the Birmingham council elections last night.
In an ideal world the Lib Dems could act like a hedge fund for the Tories: an opportunity to invest both in ice creams and umbrellas. Right now - as Britain wrings out its prematurely knotted handkerchiefs beneath the pitilessly grey Spring skies - Cameron seems to have gone full-tilt into the ice cream business.
Even The Huffington Post's own article suggests that the number of voters using this tactic may be very low, but it is sadly indicative of the times that it should even have been formulated.
Ever since the Tories romped back to power, they have behaving like someone who has stepped in something, desperately scraping the soles of their shoes in order to remove the Lib Dems. Indeed, for the first year of the coalition government both Labour and the Conservatives found common ground in their desire to return the Lib Dems to their former state of total unelectability.
That was all very well when the Conservatives were working towards the idea of a clean victory in 2015, but right now hopes of that seem to be draining away.
Moreover, events may yet conspire to strengthen the Lib Dems' hand. Remember Business Secretary Vince Cable, whose responsibilities to oversee News Corp's bid for BSkyB were removed from him and given to Jeremy Hunt? At the time Cable was made to look very stupid by a Daily Telegraph sting (which was later the subject of a successful complaint to the Press Complaints Commission). Now, however, he looks remarkably like the only British politician to shake hands with the Murdochs and retain his small change & pocket watch.
To a different extent the same can be said of Clegg himself. Having been variously depicted as hapless, clueless and ineffectual, he can scarcely be portrayed now as having anything more than a bystander role in the policies that have proved most unpopular for the coalition. While George Osbourne was preparing his politically catastrophic budget, Clegg & Cable were pushing the idea of a "Mansion Tax".
As fig leaves go it may be small, but it beats going around stark bollock naked.
Of course, the recovery in Lib Dem fortunes has been predicted more often than the end of the world, the only difference between them being that at some point the world assuredly will end. Of less concern to the Conservatives than the rise of the Lib Dems, however, will be their own fall: something in which they are likely to prove the principal architect. Had they kept the Lib Dems relatively strong, they might have prevented Labour from jumping from third place into first in the Birmingham council elections last night.
In an ideal world the Lib Dems could act like a hedge fund for the Tories: an opportunity to invest both in ice creams and umbrellas. Right now - as Britain wrings out its prematurely knotted handkerchiefs beneath the pitilessly grey Spring skies - Cameron seems to have gone full-tilt into the ice cream business.
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Unqualified Writer Questions Qualified Writer's Qualifications Shock
Writing in The Times yesterday, Kevin Maher took to task Lucy Worsley for introducing herself as "Dr. Lucy Worsley" on what he rather high-handedly terms "the BBC's pop-history show" If Walls Could Talk: The History of the Home. Evidently the only people permitted to refer to themselves as doctor are those who kiss Kevin's boo-boos and allow him to take a lollypop from the jar.
Naturally it's not that Maher is just bothered about the doctor thing: he has another axe to grind with her and just lampoons her obvious self-importance as a side-swipe. To show that he is no mere sneering oik, however, he does let drop that he is quite au fait with this education business himself and has an M.A. ... but naturally (being the sort of person who sets these gew-gaws at a clear-sighted estimation of their importance) he got over that some years ago and is no longer clinging to it.
Let's just compare those two qualifications then, shall we?
Lucy Worsley is Chief Curator at Historic Royal Palaces. "She's also a winner of the Royal Historical Society's Frampton Prize, a visiting professor at Kingston University, and one of the few beardless Fellows of the Society of Antiquaries." (God help us ... even Sordel is beginning to go off her!) She is the author of several books about history and her doctoral thesis was written on a subject in the history of architecture.
One might almost think that she introduces herself on her programme as "doctor" to reassure the audience that, unlike many people who present programmes on television, she is actually qualified to speak on her subject with authority. (And let's just leave on one side the additional defence that she was probably encouraged to style herself so by the BBC programme-makers.)
Now, Kevin Maher.
He may not have written his biog on The Times website, but he might have at least proofread it: "Kevin has been a film editor forThe Face magazine, a film pundit for The Big Breakfast, and a film researcher for Channel 4. He now writes about film, because he can" [sic]
Exactly what he "can" is left unsaid, or at least unpunctuated, but at least we have discovered that film is Kevin's metier.
Well, Film Studies is perhaps not the most elevated of academic subject ... but we should certainly congratulate Kevin on sticking to what he loves and making a career of it. A Masters degree is, after all, still a Masters degree and Film Studies need fear no bullying from the likes of Architectural History.
Except Kevin's Masters dissertation is not in Film Studies. Its title - as he mentions in his column - is "Beyond Good and Evil: A Post-Feminist Analysis of Charlotte Brontë's Villette With Respect to Nietzsche". [sic]
Does it perchance become crystal clear why Maher is so opposed to academic willy-waving when he has no relevant qualifications in the field in which he writes? (And this despite the fact that there must be suitably-qualified writers queuing around the block at all nearby Job Centres.)
Moreover, those schooled in reading dissertation titles will be ready to set at nought Kevin's endeavours with even more zeal than he himself modestly brings to bear. A dissertation advancing a "post-feminist" analysis reading one novel by Brontë (1816-55) in the light of the student's almost certainly superficial acquaintance with the work of Nietzsche (1844-1900) ... that's basically university code for "here's a load of crap I made up to look interesting to girls".
A show of modesty when one has so much to be modest about is scarcely virtuous, Mister Maher.
Naturally it's not that Maher is just bothered about the doctor thing: he has another axe to grind with her and just lampoons her obvious self-importance as a side-swipe. To show that he is no mere sneering oik, however, he does let drop that he is quite au fait with this education business himself and has an M.A. ... but naturally (being the sort of person who sets these gew-gaws at a clear-sighted estimation of their importance) he got over that some years ago and is no longer clinging to it.
Let's just compare those two qualifications then, shall we?
Lucy Worsley is Chief Curator at Historic Royal Palaces. "She's also a winner of the Royal Historical Society's Frampton Prize, a visiting professor at Kingston University, and one of the few beardless Fellows of the Society of Antiquaries." (God help us ... even Sordel is beginning to go off her!) She is the author of several books about history and her doctoral thesis was written on a subject in the history of architecture.
One might almost think that she introduces herself on her programme as "doctor" to reassure the audience that, unlike many people who present programmes on television, she is actually qualified to speak on her subject with authority. (And let's just leave on one side the additional defence that she was probably encouraged to style herself so by the BBC programme-makers.)
Now, Kevin Maher.
He may not have written his biog on The Times website, but he might have at least proofread it: "Kevin has been a film editor forThe Face magazine, a film pundit for The Big Breakfast, and a film researcher for Channel 4. He now writes about film, because he can" [sic]
Exactly what he "can" is left unsaid, or at least unpunctuated, but at least we have discovered that film is Kevin's metier.
Well, Film Studies is perhaps not the most elevated of academic subject ... but we should certainly congratulate Kevin on sticking to what he loves and making a career of it. A Masters degree is, after all, still a Masters degree and Film Studies need fear no bullying from the likes of Architectural History.
Except Kevin's Masters dissertation is not in Film Studies. Its title - as he mentions in his column - is "Beyond Good and Evil: A Post-Feminist Analysis of Charlotte Brontë's Villette With Respect to Nietzsche". [sic]
Does it perchance become crystal clear why Maher is so opposed to academic willy-waving when he has no relevant qualifications in the field in which he writes? (And this despite the fact that there must be suitably-qualified writers queuing around the block at all nearby Job Centres.)
Moreover, those schooled in reading dissertation titles will be ready to set at nought Kevin's endeavours with even more zeal than he himself modestly brings to bear. A dissertation advancing a "post-feminist" analysis reading one novel by Brontë (1816-55) in the light of the student's almost certainly superficial acquaintance with the work of Nietzsche (1844-1900) ... that's basically university code for "here's a load of crap I made up to look interesting to girls".
A show of modesty when one has so much to be modest about is scarcely virtuous, Mister Maher.
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