Watch: Jim Crace, Catherine Hakim and Hannah Dawson debate beauty, intellect and power

We openly discriminate in favour of intelligence while playing down the role of physical beauty in our lives. Is this a mistake? Are we cheating ourselves?

We openly discriminate in favour of intelligence – at school and at work – while denying or trying to limit the role of physical beauty in the choices we make. Could this be a mistake? Should we accept the many different qualities possessed by individuals and prize them equally, and if we did so, would this undermine our society and lead us towards ruin?

Sociologist Catherine Hakim has written extensively on employment, labour markets and sex discrimination. Known for her theory of "Erotic Capital", she argues that sexual attractiveness is measurable as social and economic asset, and that beauty can be used as a tool for the empowerment of women. Hakim identifies the favouring of the intellect as a symptom of Western civilization’s traditional preoccupation with anti-sensuality: a puritanical mentality that we should have outgrown.

The novelist Jim Crace - shortlisted for the 2013 Booker Prize - believes that giving the physical preference over the intellectual is unjust. At the core of his contention is the role that luck plays against hard work and determination. He argues that people should be judged by what they have control over, and that we should strive to separate character and characteristics.

But is there scope for considering beauty as part of one's personality? Beauty runs deeper than the surface, according to Hannah Dawson, prominent university intellectual and historian of ideas. Like Catherine Hakim, Dawson recognises the gender dimension is integral to this discussion. She asserts that women's appearances are subject to considerably more scrutiny than men's, and accepts the role of beauty and attractiveness in the workplace. However, she wants to see an end to this discrimination and urges us to value action over appearance.

How would a shift in the value we attribute to intelligence and beauty change our world? Philosopher Julian Baggini chairs this debate from IAI TV to ask that very question.

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Hillary and the Viking: dramatising life with the Clintons

August radio should be like a corkboard, with a few gems pinned here and there. Heck, Don’t Vote for Him is one.

Now is the season of repeats and stand-in presenters. Nobody minds. August radio ought to be like a corkboard – things seemingly long pinned and faded (an Angela Lansbury doc on Radio 2; an adaptation of Charlotte Brontë’s The Professor on Radio 4 Extra) and then the occasional bright fragment. Like Martha Argerich playing Liszt’s Piano Concerto No 1 at the Albert Hall (Prom 43, 17 August).

But on Radio 4, two new things really stand out. An edition of In the Criminologist’s Chair (16 August, 4pm) in which the former bank robber (and diagnosed psychopath) Noel “Razor” Smith recalls, among other memorable moments, sitting inside a getaway car watching one of his fellows “kissing his bullets” before loading. And three new dramas imagining key episodes in the Clintons’ personal and political lives.

In the first (Heck, Don’t Vote for Him, 6 August, 2.30pm), Hillary battles with all the “long-rumoured allegations of marital infidelity” during the 1992 Democratic primaries. Fenella Woolgar’s (brilliant, unburlesqued) Hillary sounds like a woman very often wearing a fantastically unhappy grin, watching her own political ambitions slip through her fingers. “I deserve something,” she appeals to her husband, insisting on the position of attorney general should he make it to the top – but “the Viking” (his nickname at college, due to his great head of hair) is off, gladhanding the room. You can hear Woolgar’s silent flinch, and picture Hillary’s face as it has been these past, disquieting months, very clearly.

I once saw Bill Clinton speak at a community college in New Jersey during the 2008 Obama campaign. Although disposed not to like him, I found his wattage, without question, staggering. Sweeping through the doors of the canteen, he amusedly removed the microphone from the hands of the MC (a local baseball star), switched it off, and projected for 25 fluent minutes (no notes). Before leaving he turned and considered the smallest member of the audience – a cross-legged child clutching a picture book of presidents. In one gesture, Clinton flipped it out of the boy’s hands, signed the cover – a picture of Lincoln – and was gone.

Antonia Quirke is an author and journalist. She is a presenter on The Film Programme and Pick of the Week (Radio 4) and Film 2015 and The One Show (BBC 1). She writes a column on radio for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 28 July 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Summer Double Issue