SP I-TTATOR'S NOTEBOOK
NIGEL LAWSON
The Ministry of Technology's non-role in the non-protection of Britain's beaches from oil pollution bears all the hallmarks of Mintech and its chief, Mr Benn—the gritty min with the Mitty grin. Two recent and true stories may serve as illustration. A short while ago the Prime Minister made a resounding speech proposing the setting up of a European Technological Community. Back in Brussels, the Common Market Commission pricked up its ears and re- solved to find out more. Its emissaries inquired of the Foreign Office: what precisely was it that Mr Wilson had in mind? Was it a supranational affair like the Coal and Steel Community, or simply collaboration between nations? How would it be organised? What aspects of technology would it govern? And so on. Not a matter for us, replied the Foreign Office: try the Ministry of Technology. We know nothing about this, said the Ministry of Technology; but we'll look into it And that's the last anyone seems to have heard of the Euro- pean technological community.
Again, some six months ago Britain's leading computer manufacturers went to see Mr Benn. They reminded him of the Government's pledged commitment to save the British com- puter industry from American domination. They warned him that this would happen unless they could compete with IBM in offering modern computers on rental terms. Now the manufacturing of advanced computers for hire to customers requires substantial finance to bridge the period until the rental repayments have reimbursed the company for its produc- tion and other costs. This could not be ob- tained from the market in the normal way— partly because of the credit squeeze but even more because the new British computers were an unknown quantity, and might even become obsolete. So would the Government, if it really wanted to save the industry, lend it the money at a perfectly respectable rate of interest? Well, said the Ministry of Technology, of course we'd like to help you, but we don't know how. Meanwhile, six months later, the industry has reached the point where it must either get the finance without further delay or else give up for ever the dream of competing with the Americans. And it's still waiting.
Us
Recent press comments on the domestic affairs of the SPECTATOR have been notable chiefly for their inaccuracy. As my colleague Donald McLachlan pointed out a little while ago, the press has never been particularly good at re- porting the press. No doubt, too, in a year of advertising recession which is causing prob- lems throughout Fleet Street, there is a simple psychological explanation for the fact that those newspapers at present making the big- gest losses have tended to comment most wildly and most adversely on us.
All the same, I'm a little surprised that the BBC, in its usually responsible Ten O'Clock programme, should have chosen as its sole exegete of the SPECTATOR'S affairs a man whose connection with the paper was ended more than twelve years ago when he was succeeded as editor by the present proprietor. More than once during his superficial and misleading analysis this commentator (who seemed to be suffering from the delusion that the paper's sale rose during his brief editorship) claimed that our circulation was now 'going down.' The truth of the matter is that there was a small drop in the second half of last year as a result of our price increase (of which unaccountably no mention was made). The purpose of the price rise was, of course, to bring about a neces- sary improvement in the paper's financial posi- tion. And this it has achieved. All this has nothing whatever to do with the possibility of the SPECTATOR changing hands, which is some- thing that happens from time to time even among the best—or should it be top?—papers.
`Shocking'
I hereby publicly give notice to all tradesmen, contractors, professional men and others whose goods I may have purchased or whose services I may have employed between the years 1959 and 1953 inclusive, that they are required, before the end of the current financial year, t.) furnish me with all books, ledgers, accounts, etc., relating to such transactions, with a view to ascertaining the margin of profit secured by them; upon which, and duly confessing their sinfulness, they will be required to repay to me any such profits as I may deem to have been excessive.
Of course, I must admit that I inexplicably-, forgot to make this stipulation at the time; but that doesn't seem to worry the Govern- ment in the Bristol Siddeley affair, so why should it concern me? And please don't write to me to say that if I have a good case I can seek redress through the courts, and if I haven't I should shut up. We're not living in the bad old days of the rule of law any more, you know; it's social justice that rules today.
The Sunday Times, indeed, seemed utterly overwhelmed with outraged indignation : 'A shocking affair' was the heading to its first leading article on the subject. Come to think of it, I seem to recall another instance at about the same time of a government- appointed agency awarding a contract on such indecently lucrative terms that even the lucky contractor himself was obliged to de- scribe it as 'a licence to print money.' I look forward hopefully to next weekend's Sunday Times first leader: 'Another shocking affair.'
Strong move
The appointment of Dr Roy Strong—who writes on Madame Tussaud's 'swinging London' exhibition on page 375 of this issue—as direc- tor of the National Portrait Gallery has delighted all of us at 99 Gower Street. Having equalled Sir Kenneth Clark's record of getting the top job at a major London gallery at the age of 31, Dr Strong is now bursting with plans for new exhibitions, publications, a history of pho- tography with archives—and a new building.
Plainly, the excellent and wrongly neglected National Portrait Gallery is going to be even more a place to watch in the years ahead. Roy Strong's prediction is that these will see, among other things, the return to high fashion of the painted portrait—and if so, hopefully, even eventually the infiltration of modern art into the MPG. Why hot? It's about time someone or something put the camera in its place.
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