DIARY
CHARLES MOORE Who reads The Spectator? No doubt you would prefer to think of yourselves as indefinable. But there are, I can now reveal, some hard facts, the first of which is that you answer questionnaires. Through NOP Market Research Limited, we orga- nised a survey before Christmas. We sent eight-page questionnaires to randomly selected subscribers and also enclosed them in news-stand copies. Most organisa- tions sending off questionnaires count themselves lucky if they get a five per cent response. More than 30 per cent of our survey (i.e. 921 people) replied.
T. he purpose of the survey was to discover readers' attitudes to the magazine and to learn about any habits of theirs which might interest potential advertisers. Not wishing to put anyone's nose out of Joint (or swell anyone's head), I cast a veil over which writers in the magazine are most widely read and enjoyed, except to note that 29 per cent of you do not normally read me and so will probably miss this interesting information. What is re- markable is that so many of you read so much of the paper. Not much escapes you. Roughly speaking, three-quarters of the readers read three-quarters' of the maga- zine. Ninety per cent read the magazine every week. You also read newspapers in quantities — 41 per cent the Times, 31 per cent the Daily Telegraph, 33 per cent the Independent, 19 per cent the Financial Times, 13 per cent the Guardian. Four of the respondents read the Daily Star. Among magazines, a third of you read Private Eye and 19 per cent the Economist. Seven per cent read the New Statesman. When asked about the balance of subjects in The Spectator, the respondents are almost depressingly content. More than two thirds think that the balance is about right. I was surprised that 20 per cent think that there is too little coverage of religious subjects, and that 13 per cent complain of too much sport' (though 20 per cent say there is too little). I admire the gallant one per cent who say there is 'too much humour'. Of those who have started read- ing the magazine in the past year, most give the normal reasons for doing so (e.g.
seeing an advertisement), but two per cent say that they began after seeing Jeffrey Bernard on television.
Now for your habits. They are mostly of a kind to please advertisers. There are few teetotallers, and the drinkers drink well. Eleven per cent drink champagne regularly' (at least twice a week), 17 per Cent drink malt whisky and 32 per cent chateau-bottled wine. I am told that this is about three times the score of the average 'AB'. A third of you go to restaurants once a week or more. Eighty-two per cent own property. A quarter have had two holidays abroad last year and two per cent have had 'five to nine' foreign holidays in that period. Fourteen per cent are company directors. Ten per cent have a credit card at Harrods. But let it not be thought that the readers of The Spectator are merely rich and pleasure-loving. You also have minds. Ten per cent bought 20 or more hardbacks for themselves last year and 69 per cent have bought a book as a result of a review in The Spectator. Twenty-six per cent bought 20 or more paperbacks for themselves. The arts are well patronised too — a third of the readers bought an original work of art last year, 36 per cent went to the opera and 73 per cent to a public art gallery. And in your conduct of your lives you are paragons of public- spiritedness. No fewer than 45 per cent of readers made a speech before an organised group last year, and 32 per cent were elected officer of a club or organisation. Forty-four per cent donated at least £50 to charity last year, but my heart rather sank on learning that 37 per cent wrote a letter to an editor. As for the delicate matter of class, this is assessed by the polling orga- nisation, not by self-description. NOP con- cluded that 35 per cent of you are 'A'. They identified two per cent as `C2DE' and one per cent as 'housewife'.
'I can't say that I particularly want to be pro- moted by a local authority.' The survey confirms me in my belief that The Spectator has the sort of readers who are good at persuading others. With this in mind, I am launching a 'reader get reader' scheme with a tempting reward. The details are on page 16.
The top story on the front page of the latest Sunday Telegraph was written by the editor, Peregrine Worsthorne. It revealed that the director of the National Portrait Gallery, Mr John Hayes, had written to Mr Kingsley Amis and asked if he would sit for a joint portrait with his son, Martin. Mr Amis, says Mr Worsthorne, has 'nothing whatsoever in common' with his son 'in a literary sense', and so (though I do not grasp the logic of this connection) he was annoyed. He wrote: Dear Mr Hayes, Many thanks for your letter inviting me to Sit for a portrait with my son Martin. This is one of the most amazingly inept and tactless suggestions that has ever been made to me. Martin fully agrees with this judgement. Whoever put it forward originally is obvious- ly waiting for a vacancy at Harpers and Queen or Taller.
If this refusal leaves your artist with time on his hands, you might get him to knock up a picture of the Two Ronnies.
Yours sincerely, Kingsley Amis.
Well, it is a very good idea about the Two Ronnies, but I cannot see what was wrong with Mr Hayes's request. There is nothing gimmicky about such double portraits, nor any implication in the invitation which is insulting to Amis pere or fils. Both men have interesting faces and the resem- blances and differences between them are interesting too. Anyone looking at photo- graphs of them would want to compare them. A portrait would be better still. The relationship between father and son is one of the most important in literature: it is not nearly often enough attempted in painting. Keep trying, Mr Hayes.
0 ne of the points of the late Canon Gareth Bennett's Crockford's preface was that those in the Church of England who do not toe the prevailing liberal line are denied preferment. His view is confirmed by the case of Dr Edward Norman, Dean of Peterhouse. Since his Reith lectures attacking liberal secularism and 'guilty public schoolboys', Dr Norman has found the grander ecclesiastical avenues blocked to him. Now, in a gesture of self- renunciation, he is giving up academic work to. become chaplain to a college training infant-school teachers in Kent. Meanwhile the liberals flourish like the green bay tree.
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