The Succession, originally uploaded by jjn1.

On Wednesday some of us went to a very enjoyable dinner at St Antony’s College, Oxford (which is Wolfson’s sister college). Wandering round the Combination Room afterwards I was struck by this juxtaposition of the bust of the founder of the college, Antonin Besse, and a lovely portrait by Henry Mee of its third Warden, Marrack Goulding.

From NewsBiscuit.

Thanks to Quentin for spotting it.

Like many hacks, I’ve done very little work this morning, because I’ve been glued to the live feed from the Leveson Inquiry. Why? Because the Dirty Digger, aka Rupert Murdoch, has been giving evidence under oath. At the heart of his questioning by Robert Jay Q.C., Counsel for the Inquiry, was Jay’s attempt to obtain from Murdoch an acknowledgement that he wielded political power. Predictably, Jay failed to elicit from the Digger any acknowledgement to that effect.

I suspect that — unless a smoking gun appears (e.g. a documentary trail proving that Murdoch obtained a commercial advantage as a result of a solicited political intervention) — Jay is on a mission to nowhere. Whenever the questioning strayed onto dangerous ground this morning — e.g. discussion of the Sun front-page headline saying “It was the Sun wot won it!” after John Major unexpectedly won the 1992 General Election — Murdoch went to great pains to point out that he had delivered a “bollocking” to the editor responsible, Kelvin MacKenzie. And the reason is obvious: if newspapers were claiming to exert such direct power over the electoral process, then they would be in trouble — even in such an enfeebled democracy as ours.

And yet it’s obvious even to the dogs in the street that Murdoch wields enormous power. The reason the Leveson Inquiry can’t get to it, though, is that it’s working with the wrong conceptual framework. If you want to understand the power that Murdoch actually wields, then a good place to start is Steven Lukes’s wonderful book, Power: A Radical View, the best analysis of the phenomenon I’ve every encountered. Crudely stated, Lukes’s view is that power comes in three varieties:

1. the ability to compel people to do things they don’t want to do;
2. the ability to stop people doing what they want to do; and
3. the ability to shape the way they think.

The problem with the Leveson Inquiry is that it’s looking for evidence of #1 and/or #2, whereas in fact #3 is the one they want. And cross-questioning the chief suspect is not the way to get at it.

Peter Checkland and SSM7, originally uploaded by jjn1.

Last Friday, I went to Lancaster to take part in a symposium organised by the Lancaster University Management School to honour my friend and mentor, Professor Peter Checkland (seen here with a photograph of himself inspecting an ancient Indian locomotive). It was a stimulating, intriguing and enjoyable event. The pdf of my contribution is available here. (It explains the enigmatic heading over this post, btw.)

Lovely piece by Professor Mary Beard, responding to the sneering of the Sunday Times‘s TV ‘critic’, one A.A. Gill, who focussed on her appearance rather than on her TV programmes, Meet the Romans.

So what of my revenge?

First, I’d like to invite him to a tutorial in my study at Cambridge and ask him to justify and substantiate his opinions. We could talk them through. Possibly then he would learn a little about the crass assumptions he’s making and why they don’t amount to anything more.

Next, for my Roman-style revenge on Gill, I’d force him to watch each of my programmes from start to finish. And to ensure he did so with appropriate diligence, I’d ask Clare [Balding — a BBC sports commentator who has also been abused by Gill on account of her appearance] to be on hand to enforce the penalty.

And as Gill is also a food critic —and I’m certain there is a veritable battalion of angry chefs and restaurateurs who would gladly volunteer to help with this bit — I’d force-feed him, like a goose destined for pate de foie gras, his least favourite dishes, while he sat and learned about the Romans.

And then we’d talk about them — and I mean about their substance, not just about my lack of lipgloss.

According to Wikipedia, Gill is a “recovered alcoholic” and has acute dyslexia, which means that all his ‘writing’ is dictated. I’d often wondered if this might explain his curious style.

From the Digger’s twitterstream:

Hmmm… I wonder who owns those Channel Island “billions”. Could it be a reference to the Barclay twins — owners of the Telegraph group?

Surely not.