Even for an editor, kicking a wastepaper bin is going too far
Published 18 September 2000
Media - Bill Hagerty
There hasn't been as much blood spilt in Scotland since Bannockburn. So violently have Martin Clarke at the Daily Record and Rebecca Hardy at the Scotsman wielded their broadswords that warriors toughened by years of close combat in the killing fields of national newspaper journalism have reeled from their presence, nerves shredded and bereft of both jobs and self-respect.
Thuggery is not new in newspaper editing. It is in the nature of what is a high-speed, high-risk business that it will produce some bare-knuckle bruisers when cock-ups damage circulation or the paper's reputation. But the humiliation that accompanied the seething and shouting and effing and blinding at the Record and the Scotsman is a relatively recent phenomenon.
The words Kelvin and MacKenzie may well be forming on the lips of any former colleagues of that notorious master of abuse, should they be reading this. While MacKenzie may not have been the first editor to heap mortification on luckless members of staff, he is most certainly the only one to have pilloried a genial employee and future successful editor by publishing his picture, in the Sun, and suggesting to its readers: "Want someone to yell at? Scream at? Fume at? RING HIGGY THE HUMAN SPONGE, HE'LL SOAK IT UP." Stuart Higgins did indeed. Many other MacKenzie victims made their excuses and left, preferring the tranquillity of such alternatives as lion-taming or bullfighting to life in the Wapping jungle.
The late and greatly talented Sir David English is another who, history records, could strip the dignity from grown men and women with a tongue-lashing; and employees have claimed the same of Andrew Neil.
But there is no record of the papers run by English or Neil haemorrhaging staff in the way the Scotsman has, although it must be remembered that Neil is the publisher of the paper. Nor, as far as I am aware, did their editing styles embrace the kicking of wastepaper bins and the hurling of missiles favoured by Clarke.
The wonder, and the sadness, is that there are so many who are prepared to be degraded, so fearful of losing their jobs that they, like Higgy before them, will soak up every indignity heaped upon them. Yet there is no evidence to suggest that publicly brutalised members of staff will function better than those treated with consideration and respect. On the whole, great editors are remembered for flair, courage and outstanding leadership, rather than the ability to reduce colleagues to tears of frustration.
Lynda Lee Potter, not necessarily referring to editors of her acquaintance, reveals in her autobiography, Class Act, how she learnt when very young that "it is quite easy to be authoritative or the boss and give orders without demeaning people". Editors, please note.
With the school of knuckle-duster man (and woman) management technique in newspaper journalism diminished by Clarke's departure from the Record, humiliation has found a new outlet. Following the presenter Chris Tarrant's baiting of contestants in the hugely popular Who Wants to be a Millionaire? - "They can win a lot of money, so why shouldn't they be given a rough time?" is the rationale I heard him deliver in a talk to passengers on board the QE2 - the BBC has now created a Rebecca Hardy of the TV screen.
Anne Robinson, a former Mirror executive and now a successful broadcaster and writer of a Hyacinth Bucket-style diary in the Saturday Times, fronts The Weakest Link, a quiz programme that goes out every weekday on BBC2. The jeopardy (television's current buzzword) factor here is that a group of contestants have to jettison the least effective of their number at the end of every round.
Robinson treats those taking part with contempt, pouring scorn on their attempts to build a cash prize by answering general knowledge questions. She dismisses the failures with a curt "Goodbye" and ends the show in the same way, straight to camera. Even the viewer is made to feel humiliated. In one letter published in the Radio Times, a complainant wrote: "I could not believe the rude and arrogant way it was presented by Anne Robinson. Does she really have to be so offensive to those taking part?"
Well, yes, she does. The audience figures for the show are excellent and climbing, claims the BBC. Humiliation is in.
Congratulations, then, to the members of the Daily Record sports department who resigned en masse after one tirade too many from the boss. It was probably the catalyst that caused Trinity-Mirror to invite Clarke to peddle his venom elsewhere. Perhaps the deputy sports editor, Alan Rowan, and his pals can get on The Weakest Link.
Following my gloom, expressed in this column on 10 July, over speculation that a government-friendly, "on-message" columnist was to replace the combative Richard Stott at the News of the World, Sion Simon arrived to write interminable pro-new Labour guff on a weekly page free of advertising. This is a lot of space to be devoted to politics in a paper still foaming at the mouth about paedophiles, an issue over which, infamously, some of its readers have taken to the streets.
I mentioned my reservations concerning Simon to a good friend and admirer of his, who agreed and said he might whisper words of wisdom in the columnist's ear. Behold, in last Sunday's Screws, the fearless Simon put the boot into Blair over the Dome fiasco. Still too much politics on the page, however. I really must talk to our mutual friend again.
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