DIARY
Ihave become rather tired of the postur- ing of Imperial Chemical Industries, which has been going on for some months now, since Hanson had the temerity to purchase 2 per cent of its shares. While painting Lord Hanson as a man dedicated solely to profit — rather a desirable attribute in a businessman, I should have thought — ICI has spent large quantities of its sharehold- ers' diminishing funds on tear-jerking tele- vision advertisements. A child on an Afri- can plain holds up in his hands a loaf of bread, thanks entirely, it appears, to ICI technology; an ancient Caribbean musician plays a tune in time to his heart-beat, kept going by an ICI pacemaker; a small black girl smiles and laughs — the grandchild, presumably, the old man would never have seen but for ICI. As it happens ICI is also a big player in the explosives business, in- cluding military applications. Are we to be given a further advertisement showing the African child and Caribbean grandpappy hurtling through the air, in small pieces, thanks to ICI technology? The less fanciful truth is that ICI is as dedicated to the making of profits as Hanson is, but has been rather less successful in achieving this objective. ICI's attempt to persuade us that it is some kind of corporate equivalent of a listed building worthy of a preserva- tion order is understandable, but prepost- erous.
The following headline in the Times Business section last week filled me with a mixture of gloom and confusion: 'BA may back BAA over CAA fees.' So many companies have recently changed their names to their acronyms, I suppose be- cause it sounds snappy and with-it. At least good old ICI keeps Imperial Chemical Industries as its official title. But Rio Tinto-Zinc no longer exists. There is only RTZ. On the board of The Spectator sits the great industrialist Sir Owen Green, but chairman now of only BTR. With a market capitalisation of over £10 billion it is too grand to call itself Birmingham Tyre and Rubber. That other company of gummy origin, the London Rubber Company, is now, coyly, LRC. Perhaps the saddest case of all is P&O, a stunted dwarf compared to the Peninsular and Oriental Steam Naviga- tion Company.
If it wasn't so grim, one might be able to view the furore over 'outing' — the naming of public figures as homosexuals by mili- tant queers — as just another silly season story. I use the word 'queer' advisedly, because this is what the militants call themselves. While some people find that refreshing, we will all now have to come to DOMINIC LAWSON terms with the fact that the innocent word for a schoolchild's trip has now been taken over by darker forces. At a lunch at The Spectator last week Sir Robin Day told me that, far from being a recent innovation, the use of gay, meaning homosexual, was current in America in the 1930s, and that in Oscar Wilde's time the word 'earnest' had a similar meaning. Which puts a whole new gloss on the Importance of Being. Another guest, Sir Alec Guinness, came up with a further refinement. In his youth, 'musical' was the standard euphemism, as in 'He's very musical, you know.'
o say that Sir Alec Guinness is very observant is rather like saying that Vivian Richards is a fine cricketer. The great actor could perhaps pass on some of the benefits of his observed wisdom to Mr John Major. Sir Alec told me that he had been watching Prime Minister's Questions and had noticed that Mr Major always followed Mr Kinnock's physical mannerisms. If Mr Kin- nock asked a question with a sunny beam, Mr Major would reply with a similar expression on his face. If Mr Kinnock led with a scowl, Mr Major's face would darken in turn. This creates the impression that Mr Kinnock is the more decisive character, more the leader. According to Sir Alec, Mr Major should look carefully at Mr Kin- nock's expression, and do the opposite, thus making the Labour leader seem either pompous or flippant by turn, and at the same time imposing his own different character on the proceedings. Perhaps this is something the Prime Minister should think about during the recess, once the Test Matches are over.
'This is what I really look like.' Ilive in Kensington. Normally, I would not complain. But when Luciano Pavarot- ti, self-styled 'King of the High Cs', gives a concert in Hyde Park, I wish I lived anywhere else. But at least Pavarotti's was a one-night affair. My greatest pity is reserved for the residents of Earl's Court, whose lives have been disrupted for a month by the Royal Tournament. Most of the roads in the area have been buried under a heap of police 'no parking' bol- lards. One of the exits of the local tube station has been blocked off. All post- boxes in the vicinity have been sealed. I quite understand the police's concern ab- out the possibility of a terrorist incident, and would not wish to interfere with their policies or their overtime payments. But it is no longer practicable to hold such events in the heart of London. There is no particular reason why the Royal Tourna- ment should be held in Earl's Court. There is plenty of space in Docklands, where there are scarcely any people and a surplus of hall-sized warehouses.
Idon't want to pick on the Times — I much admire its editor, Simon Jenkins but I have become irritated by the way it has taken to using the word 'surprise' as an adjective. For example, on Tuesday its front page described Mr F. W. de Klerk's demotion of two of his ministers as 'a surprise announcement'. To be fair, this disease, originating in the tabloids, has infected virtually all the quality papers. I think only the FT has remained immune. It alone referred to Mr de Klerk's manoeuvre as 'a surprising about-turn'. But probably even the adjective is redundant.
The rapidly increasing pay of business- men running monopolies has ceased to be a surprising or even a surprise development. But it still requires an explanation. Why should the likes of the chairman of British Gas, British Telecom and Thames Water be paid so much more than businessmen in competitive industries? Perhaps they will argue in the next annual report to share- holders that they work far harder than their peers in the competitive fray. The latter, after all, need spend no time setting prices and deciding what level of profit they will make. Adam Smith's invisible hand does it all for them. But the hard- pressed monopolist chairman must have hours of price-rigging meetings, and end- less discussions with the public relations advisers about what level of profits will be politically acceptable. It may not be much of an argument, but I doubt whether they will be able to come up with a better one.
Previous page
