MEDIA STUDIES
The unknown may have done better than famous Andrew Neil, but he could still do much better
STEPHEN GLOVER
John Witherow, editor of the Sunday Times, is by most accounts an agreeable fel- low. He is also successful by the yardstick of circulation. Over the past six months, the paper has sold a weekly average of 1,332,094 copies, its best figure for 15 years. Mr Witherow has already outshone his famous predecessor, Andrew Neil, whom he succeeded in June 1994. Sales may have been boosted by the successful Irish edi- tion, and more people may be buying the paper because they feel richer, but Mr Witherow is the man sitting in the editorial chair, and he should receive the praise.
His circulation success should make us suspicious of the cult of editor as assidu- ously cultivated by Mr Neil. Whereas little is known about Mr Witherow, Mr Neil's escapades in Tramp's nightclub and the High Court, not to mention his numerous appearances on television and radio, made him almost a household name during his 11-year editorship. But how much did all that energetic self-promotion help the Sun- day Times? Though he may be uncelebrat- ed outside the confines of Wapping, Mr Witherow has presided over a sales increase during his short editorship unmatched by the ubiquitous Mr Neil.
Nor do all Mr Witherow's improvements have to do with circulation. The News Review section has been successfully rejigged, though some credit should go to Martin Ivens, Mr Witherow's deputy charged with the task, and to the supple- ment's new editor, Sarah Baxter. It was a great coup to persuade Robert Harris, the author and liberal commentator, to write a weekly column. Mr Harris's pride of place in the News Review has undeniably lent lustre to the Sunday Times over the past year, though the effect may be short-lived since he is reportedly unwilling to continue writing after the election.
But when one looks outside the News Review it is more difficult to find improve- ments that could be ascribed to Mr With- erow. In most respects he has gone on edit- ing the paper he inherited from Mr Neil. To change for change's sake is a foolish habit of which too many new editors are guilty, but it is not as if Mr Neil's Sunday Times was incapable of improvement. Let us accept that even a successful Sunday quality paper must have many lifestyle fea- tures, and that it should deal with a range of subjects unlikely to appeal in their entirety to anyone. My complaint about the Sunday Times is that it is still not intelligent enough when it should be.
The foreign pages, though graced by sev- eral fine correspondents, make little attempt to cover foreign affairs in a grown- up way. Many stories are soft and written around people rather than issues. Even the improved News Review opens with a serial- isation which often strikes a trivial note in the wrong place: most recently we have had a double dose of Dudley Moore, while last Sunday we graduated to the sex life of Peggy Ashcroft. As for the magazine, its 35th anniversary issue two weeks ago served only to remind us how much it has declined. One is left wondering whether the likes of Robert Harris do not serve as symbols of a greater seriousness that has not permeated very far into the soul of the newspaper.
It is not only a question of what goes in but also of what is left out. I,don't want to mythologise Harry Evans, editor of the Sunday Times from 1967 to 1981, but he did run some memorable investigative pieces. There are few articles of that sort now. Such journalism takes time, and is expen- sive. With profits of perhaps £60 million a year, the Sunday Times is fabulously prof- itable — much more so than in Mr Evans's day — yet it devotes very few of its enor- mous resources to painstaking journalism. I don't just mean the investigative stuff. Even in a Sunday newspaper most articles have to be written in a hurry but there are some things — interviews, profiles, certain fea- tures — which will be better done if a good journalist is given a couple of weeks rather than a couple of days.
The Sunday Times is in a uniquely strong position to do this. Mr Witherow might say that he is putting on sales and has no great need to worry. But my guess is that his paper would do better if he ran more ambi- tious pieces, and that elevating the tone of the supposedly serious parts would not drive away any readers. He should be less cautious. For once we can't blame Rupert Murdoch: there may be some things which Mr Witherow should do which his propri- etor wouldn't let him, but he could quietly introduce many improvements. Peter Stothard is leaving a greater mark at the Times.
Things may look good for the time being, but the Sunday Telegraph, admittedly sell- ing at 30p less and helped by an attractive subscription offer, is creeping up. Last month, it sold an average of 897,025 copies, its best figure since 1981. In the face of this distant threat, the Sunday Times looks a lit- tle too sleepy for its own good.
Irecently sat next to Will Hutton, editor of the Observer, at dinner. He seemed a very amiable fellow: liberal, broadminded, not inclined to take himself too seriously. The next day I watched him make an inter- vention at a seminar. He put on quite a show, rolling his eyes, thumping the table, and shaking his head like an angry horse. When he had done his piece, someone made a countervailing point, and Mr Hut- ton put up two hands, palms upward, as if to indicate that the argument might be more finely balanced than he had implied. It struck me that Mr Hutton is quite a per- former.
Last Sunday, the Observer led with a story that Sir Tim Bell, 'the Conservatives' adver- tising guru', was fined for indecent expo- sure nearly 20 years ago, and was once a cocaine abuser. In its review section, the paper printed a long excerpt from a book by Mark Hollingworth from which the front-page story was drawn. The cruel headline of the inside piece was, 'Get out of this one, Mr Spin.' This was another way of saying, 'We've stuffed you good and proper this time, Tim Bell.' Now I hold no brief for this man, whom I have never met. I have a vague prejudice against PR men, and a slightly more specif- ic one against Sir Tim. But I don't think Mr Hutton should attack him in this way. Sir Tim's conviction for indecent exposure did not turn out to be very heinous, and like his cocaine abuse it was a long time ago. One could understand the fuss were he a great statesman of apparently unim- peachable morals, but he is not. He is a PR man, and fairly insignificant even in our debased political culture. In a grand, Whig- gish way, were he only true to the traditions of David Astor, Mr Hutton should barely affect to notice him.
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