This evening I witnessed perhaps the most disgraceful scene of Television that it was ever my misfortune to see. Dominic Cummings being hounded by a pack of journalists who were shaking him as if he were a bone that they were determined not to let go until they could say Gotcha, turned my stomach. It reminded of me of nothing less than a Soviet show trial where the victim is paraded before the court until he confesses his crime only to be taken from that place to the basement of the Lubyanka where a bullet awaits.
After about an hour I could just about manage a bowl
of soup and some toast. I watched Love Affair (1939) with Charles Boyer and
Irene Dunne, to remind myself that there used to be kindness and romance in the
world and because I wanted to think about something else than scoundrels
taunting a good man who had done his best for his family and his child.
I have written frequently about journalism since the
start of this crisis and will do so again shortly, but nothing has angered me
more and reminded me that I was on the right track when I described Journalism
as missing the mood of the country.
Yesterday when we had the daily press briefing, we had
interesting and useful questions from members of the public. Afterwards we had Pretty
Polly Peston and friends parroting the same question about Mr Cummings and
receiving the same answer from Boris Johnson. They think that if only they
hound someone long enough, he will either resign or else he will kill himself
because of the pressure. At this point Mr Peston will lead tributes to their
great friend and he or she will be elevated into the sainthood of the departed.
The hypocrisy of this process tells me that journalism has nothing whatsoever
to do with truth, or morals or honour.
I have faithfully stayed inside since lockdown began.
I am not a lockdown sceptic. I go once a week to the shops. But if someone else
doesn’t follow the rules it is their business not mine. I rather admire their
courage. Lots of people are travelling throughout Britain. Journalists for
instance are allowed to travel where they please including abroad.
Morality is about focussing on what I do. It is not
about condemning others. That is for their conscience, not mine. I did not
condemn Catherine Calderwood for visiting her second home. She did no harm. First
do no harm. I did not condemn Professor Neil Ferguson for having a friend over.
Nor did I condemn Stephen Kinnock for visiting his parents. The vast majority
of Brits are obeying the rules, much more than expected. But the law if it is
to remain human has to allow for exceptions. It has to allow for the defence that
the person had a good reason.
I would have done the same if I had walked in Mr Cummings’s
shoes. I would have been frightened that both my wife and myself would be
unable to look after my child. But even if I disagreed with what he did I would
reflect that he made his decisions while infected with Covid and that this
illness makes thinking and judging difficult. The illness itself is an
extenuating circumstance, to all but the hounds with the bone.
Mr Cummings has always appeared to me to be an exceptionally
intelligent and original thinker. Our
Government needs him in this crisis.
None of the journalists who were desperate today to
trip him up have anything approaching his intellect nor indeed his morality. They
were not acting for the good of Britain, rather they were acting out a drama
that is only of concern to their failing profession. The task they set
themselves is to keep attacking as a pack until the victim breaks
psychologically under the torture or gives up with submission. If this is
morality it is the morality of the mob.
I listened to Mr Cummings’s humility expressed in his
rather nice Durham accent. I heard how he admitted his imperfection and his mistakes,
and I believed him. This is someone who is doing his best for Britain.
I heard no such humility from the mob that were
attacking him from all sides. I heard nothing about the mistakes they have made
in the judgements they make with 20/20 hindsight. I have yet to hear remorse
from a journalist about the damage he has done.
Dominic Cummings is marmite. Remainers and the Left
despise him because he has consistently outfought and outthought them. Journalists
despise him because he rightly views them with contempt. But this is a human
being who made incredibly difficult decisions while about to become sick with a
life-threatening illness. Would I have made better or different decisions? No,
I don’t think so.
People who have recently been ill with Covid are
frequently very vulnerable. It takes a long time to recover fully even when you
rush back to work because you are needed. When someone is vulnerable the last thing,
they need is to go through a struggle session with the People’s Liberation Broadcasting
Corporation. They need peace and quiet and to be left alone.
There has to be a reckoning for what happened today.
We need to tell journalists that we don’t want show trials and gotchas and that
their morality is not our morality. If necessary, we need to cease watching
their Television stations, refuse to pay our TV licences and cease renewing our
satellite subscriptions. We have already ceased buying newspapers.
I hope tomorrow I will be able to eat normally, but the
memory of various dogs with a bone that they would not let go will live with me
forever.
