In defence of page 3

Page 4 is the real issue.

Amid the furore over Rupert Murdoch possibly axing page 3, a key issue has been left unexplored. Without page 3 how can they print page 4?

I would argue that axing page 3 would rapidly lead to an abolition of both. And if our national broadsheets start skipping straight from page 2 to page 5, what kind of message does this send our children, some of whom are still learning to count?

Page 3 may have become "anachronistic" or "obvious" to Murdoch critics, but there are still some traditionalists out there who think we shouldn't try to fix what's not broken - let's not forget that 2 has been followed by 3 since The Sun was founded, if not before. It's simply the natural order of things. And as someone who has actually been 3, I for one applaud the "freshness"  and "youth" that the number has come to be associated with.

The possible move has been further criticised by some as a sly bid by Murdoch to save on paper and printing ink. But many other publications have been doing the same for quite some time - The Sun, for example, has been systematically stripping all quality content from its pages for the last 20 years, and none of its readers have noticed.

3. Photograph:@Chris_Samuel via Flickr

Martha Gill writes the weekly Irrational Animals column. You can follow her on Twitter here: @Martha_Gill.

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Theresa May is paying the price for mismanaging Boris Johnson

The Foreign Secretary's bruised ego may end up destroying Theresa May. 

And to think that Theresa May scheduled her big speech for this Friday to make sure that Conservative party conference wouldn’t be dominated by the matter of Brexit. Now, thanks to Boris Johnson, it won’t just be her conference, but Labour’s, which is overshadowed by Brexit in general and Tory in-fighting in particular. (One imagines that the Labour leadership will find a way to cope somehow.)

May is paying the price for mismanaging Johnson during her period of political hegemony after she became leader. After he was betrayed by Michael Gove and lacking any particular faction in the parliamentary party, she brought him back from the brink of political death by making him Foreign Secretary, but also used her strength and his weakness to shrink his empire.

The Foreign Office had its responsibility for negotiating Brexit hived off to the newly-created Department for Exiting the European Union (Dexeu) and for navigating post-Brexit trade deals to the Department of International Trade. Johnson was given control of one of the great offices of state, but with no responsibility at all for the greatest foreign policy challenge since the Second World War.

Adding to his discomfort, the new Foreign Secretary was regularly the subject of jokes from the Prime Minister and cabinet colleagues. May likened him to a dog that had to be put down. Philip Hammond quipped about him during his joke-fuelled 2017 Budget. All of which gave Johnson’s allies the impression that Johnson-hunting was a licensed sport as far as Downing Street was concerned. He was then shut out of the election campaign and has continued to be a marginalised figure even as the disappointing election result forced May to involve the wider cabinet in policymaking.

His sense of exclusion from the discussions around May’s Florence speech only added to his sense of isolation. May forgot that if you aren’t going to kill, don’t wound: now, thanks to her lost majority, she can’t afford to put any of the Brexiteers out in the cold, and Johnson is once again where he wants to be: centre-stage. 

Stephen Bush is special correspondent at the New Statesman. His daily briefing, Morning Call, provides a quick and essential guide to domestic and global politics.