Saturday, 12 April 2025

November 24, 2022: The Fascinating Backstory of King Charles III and His (Sometimes Controversial) Environmental Crusading / Sat 5 Apr 2025 : King Charles will have to tone down support for net zero after Badenoch says 2050 is ‘impossible’

 



Royals

The Fascinating Backstory of King Charles III and His (Sometimes Controversial) Environmental Crusading

 

His entry into the movement might have started from the path the royals put him on, but early in his life, he sought out his own mentors. Now he’s one of the most influential thinkers on climate in the world.

 

By Erin Vanderhoof

November 24, 2022

By Ken Goff/Getty Images.

https://www.vanityfair.com/style/2022/11/the-fascinating-backstory-of-king-charles-iii-and-environmental-crusading

 

Most people know by now that King Charles III really cares about the environment. It’s been repeated often in the months since the death of Queen Elizabeth II, especially by the people who admire him. What may be less known among the general public is exactly how respected among environmental advocates he really is.

 

This year, Charles reportedly canceled plans to attend COP27 in Egypt last week due to advice from Liz Truss’s short-lived administration, which was upheld by the new prime minister, but he did host a Buckingham Palace reception for over 200 politicians and activists who were on their way to Egypt. For Charles, trips to the United Nations Climate Change Conferences are about more than keeping up appearances—he actually participates. At 2015’s COP21 in Paris, where a landmark treaty was set to be negotiated, Charles used his opening remarks to remind the attendees to think of the world they were leaving their grandchildren. On his last trip to COP26 in Glasgow, Charles gave four separate speeches and introduced a video message from his mother.

 

One obvious reason for his passion for the environment is that he was simply in the right place at the right time. Historians have named 1970 as the year when threats to the environment broke through to the mainstream, and as a 22-year-old finishing up his university degree in anthropology and archeology and planning his career, the concern came naturally. For a handful of baby boomers, caring for the environment became a countercultural lifestyle, and though Charles was never a committed member of the Back-to-the-Land Movement, some of his beliefs and practices—from his organic farm at Highgrove to his concerns about GMOs—weren’t too far off.

 

 

Still, Charles remained unusually committed to environmental concerns even after the ’70s drew to a close, perhaps because it spoke to something deeper in him. Through speeches about the environment spanning five decades, he has described his interest in the environment in elemental terms, speaking of beauty, awareness, synthesis, and imagination. He has also been remarkably astute when it comes to incorporating new information and following the movement’s buzzwords. But engaging with his history in the movement also helps illustrate some of the pitfalls that have made action regarding the climate much harder to achieve.

 

The future king made his initial forays into environmental concerns long before global warming was even on the agenda. On a drab day in February 1970, Charles followed his father, Prince Philip, into a room at Strasbourg’s city hall for a conference about wildlife conservation. In a dark suit, looking younger than his 22 years, Charles sat in the audience as his father delivered a speech about resource depletion, endangered wildlife, and the need for more land to be set aside for conservation. These were the issues that Philip spent most of his life committed to, and they were fairly normal concerns for European royalty at the time. Charles and Philip were joined by four other European princes at the conference, which brought together government representatives and activists to launch the European Conservation Year.

 

By 1970, Charles had already been involved with the European Conservation Year planning for nearly two years. Many of Charles’s decisions about education and employment were planned by Queen Elizabeth II and her advisers, and his initial forays into the world of environmental activism were motivated by their desire for him to form closer connections in Wales. In 1968, Charles started preparing for his responsibilities as heir apparent by spending more time in the nation. First, he chaired a committee tasked with planning the nation’s participation in the upcoming European Conservation Year, his first time serving as the head of a meeting. The next year, he returned to take a summer course in the Welsh language before his lavish investiture in Caernarfon Castle in July 1969.

 

Charles’s 1970 trip to France was part of a larger plan to launch him into his career in public life. His university studies would come to an end that spring, so for the year following his investiture, he committed to a hectic travel schedule to serve as a royal apprentice before beginning his military training at the Royal Navy College, Dartmouth. After leaving the conference in Strasbourg, Charles traveled to Paris to attend the state funeral of French leader Charles de Gaulle.

 

 

One week after his trip to Strasbourg, he launched the Countryside in Wales conference in Cardiff, where he delivered his first-ever speech on the environment, noting that he was “personally fascinated by the problems of conservation at a time when the whole idea had become immensely fashionable.” The speech lays out some of the things he learned the previous week. He mentioned the scourge of “pollution in all its cancerous forms,” the growing issue of “nonreturnable bottles and indestructible plastic containers,” and how conservation is about “being aware of the total environment that we live in.”

 

In 2020, Charles returned to the speech and read portions of it in a video shared to the royal family’s YouTube channel, and it sounded surprisingly fresh. But one segment in which Charles discusses overpopulation wasn’t revisited in the video, perhaps due to its now controversial nature. “In many places the number of people is increasing faster than the resources of the local environment can cope, thereby exaggerating the problems of conservation,” he said in 1970. “There are two main schools of thought here. One is that nothing need be done about population because nature is bound to react by producing a particularly virulent plague or virus, and the other is that something certainly needs to be done by man to prevent his overpopulation.”

 

The rhetoric about a virus seems almost directly pulled from one of Philip’s more infamous comments from the 1960s—about returning in another life as a virus to wipe out some of the world’s population—though Charles moves on without endorsing his father’s idea. Though it’s strange to look back at this moment now, the idea that widespread population control was an urgent concern spread throughout the English-speaking world in the late 1960s and early 1970s, and Philip eagerly embraced the movement for a confluence of reasons. As an avid hunter and outdoorsman, Philip had a personal investment in conservation, and he approached environmental problems with the perspective of a natural scientist.

 

There’s also a long-running connection between the British royal family and the early scientists whose research made concern for the environment and the “quantity” and “quality” of the population into major issues. During the 19th century, Britain saw a population boom due to the Industrial Revolution, all while its citizens were moving to cities where disorder, crime, and pollution proliferated. Movements toward appreciation of nature and the eugenic improvement of society both have their roots in the British aristocracy, and many of its practitioners were awarded by and even close to the royals—including some people who were alive during Philip's lifetime. Charles Darwin, who proposed the theory of evolution and popularized the study of nature among the British aristocracy, was elected as a the Fellow of the Royal Society by a secret ballot that included family members. His cousin, Francis Galton, well-known for research into the nature of heredity and for founding the British Eugenics Society, was knighted by Queen Victoria. The next generation of natural scientists who were even closer to the family. Sir Bernard Mallet, a statistician who eventually became the president of the Eugenics Society, was married to one of the queen’s ladies in waiting. Lord Thomas Horder served as the personal doctor to Edward VIII, George VI, and Elizabeth II, juggling the duties with a role influencing international population control policy, which informed the use of forced sterilization abroad.

 

As historian Emily Klancher Merchant notes, the traditional motivations for eugenics—the quest to improve the “quality” of the human population—was supplanted by a push to moderate population growth for the sake of economic development and resource preservation. It rested on a theory that economic growth will lead the global poor to have smaller families. “This is based on British history, because Britain is where the Industrial Revolution happened, and these were the demographic consequences,” Merchant told Vanity Fair. “‘This is what happened in England, so this is what’s going to happen everywhere,’ is how demographers understood it.”

 

This motivated demographers to see family-planning as a tool for poverty alleviation. “We had population growth without industrialization and no social revolution to create small families. For demographers, this is the problem, and the initial solution that they propose is decolonization and kick-starting their modernization processes,” she said. “Modernization is going to create this new balance between low mortality and low fertility. Population will grow, but industrialization will take care of everybody, and everyone will have high living standards.”

 

Merchant added that the scientific evidence that connected population control with either economic growth or improvements in conservation has always been thin at best, but it became a central concern for the environmental movement as it grew in the 1970s. It remains a concern for some, even as scientific advances began to unravel their underpinnings and global critics attacked the movement for racist objectives and coercive practices in developing countries. Prince Philip continued to mention it into his 90s.

 

“This is still a very common thought—it seems almost like a truism,” Merchant said. “People are destroying the environment, which is true. So, if there’s fewer people, then maybe there will be fewer points for environmental destruction. It seems really obvious to natural scientists even now.” But there has never been a one-to-one connection between population and consumption of resources. “They don’t alway realize that the human activities that hurt the environment are determined by social, political, and economic structures.”

 

For most of his life both Charles and his sons, Prince Harry and Prince William, have mentioned Philip as their main inspiration to become environmental activists. But during the 1970s, Charles’s and Philip’s environmental interests began to diverge. Philip stayed involved in the conservation movement through his leadership at the World Wildlife Fund, which kept him tuned in to the latest scientific advances when it came to biodiversity loss and warming temperatures around the globe. In a 1982 speech at the University of Salford, Philip first mentioned the greenhouse effect and its potential threat to life on earth, just one year after The New York Times first ran a story about it on the front page. By 1986, he was describing the threat in apocalyptic terms. “The damage is being done, here and now, with long-term consequences just as destructive as a nuclear holocaust,” he said in a speech to the European Council of International Schools.

 

Charles, on the other hand, largely moved away from his father’s interest in population control when he found another set of mentors and started to embrace a much broader vision of what counts as an environmental concern. In 1973, the heterodox economist E.F. Schumacher released his book Small Is Beautiful: A Study of Economics as If People Mattered, and it made its way into Charles’s hands. By the end of the year, Schumacher visited the royals at Buckingham Palace, and Charles became a committed supporter of his ideas and institutions.

 

Schumacher’s work, which Charles has quoted in speeches for decades, has retained its relevance into the 21st century. “He wrote about getting beyond GDP growth—living within the limits of the planet and reorganizing economic activity such that people on the planet can truly thrive,” said Jared Spears, director of communications and resources at the Schumacher Center for a New Economics. Schumacher’s message was explicitly anti-fossil fuel because he was writing “against the backdrop of oil crises and shortages in the 1970s.”

 

Spears explained that the ideas only have added resonance now that the environmental movement is centered on fighting climate change. “In a way, the opposing forces have been the same for the past 50 years, but we know a lot more,” he said. “There’s a lot more you can say about the limits of scale, the limits of economic growth, and the reality that industrialized capitalism as it’s been operating for the past couple of decades is certainly not serving the people or the planet.”

 

Throughout the early 1980s, Charles kept his affiliations with the Prince of Wales Countryside Committee and other nature organizations. But his concern for nature and the environment were primarily expressed through the hobby of organic farming, which began when the Duchy of Cornwall bought Highgrove House in 1980 and his controversial forays into critiquing modern architecture. He also had to contend with widespread mockery in the press. As the Thatcher-era tabloids took aim at the urban left, environmental issues were increasingly referred to as “fringe” and “loony,” alongside other priorities of the Labour Party. Stories about Charles’s enthusiasm for talking to plants, his unconventional solutions to heating his own estates, and the jokes he made about banning hairspray in his home to save the ozone layer had the effect of making Charles seem political while also painting environmentally minded politicians as out of touch.

 

A watershed moment came in 1987, when Charles served as the UK’s patron for the European Year for the Environment and presented the first round of Better Environment Awards for Industry with a speech where he took on increasing “anti-conservation” sentiment in the world at large. By the time he appeared as a guest in a 1989 documentary about global warming and recommitted himself as a spokesperson for global warming, he was doing so in concert with then senator Al Gore, who first learned about the greenhouse effect and anthropogenic changes to the climate as a student at Harvard in the 1960s. As science became more incontrovertible, Gore became the US government official who most avidly called for action to protect the environment. In the mid-1980s, Charles met Gore during a trip to Washington, and the pair traded ideas for decades. (In 1990, Charles made another documentary called The Earth in Balance, and in 1992, Gore released his book Earth in the Balance.)

 

By the time the queen started speaking out about climate change in the early 2000s, the issue had become thoroughly mainstream, and by 2009 both of Britain’s major political parties had it as a part of their platform. By connecting his interest in conservation to his old-fashioned tastes and architecture and his passion for religion, Charles formulated a way of talking about the environment that focused on building consensus based on philosophical pursuits and shared values. In some ways, he was prescient to think less about the science of climate change and focus more on building a positive vision of society.

 

At the same time, abandoning explicit politics meant that his work became about preserving the status quo. For nearly three decades now, Charles has focused his rhetoric around the idea of “sustainable development” and worked with major corporations to come up with plans to reach carbon-neutrality over the next few decades. This year, at COP27, the biggest issue up for discussion was explicitly political and it might be one Charles will never be able to address. Before the conference, vulnerable countries organized to put “Loss and Damage” at the center of the agenda, demanding financial compensation for the disproportionate impact of extreme weather and climate change they have already faced.

 

One of Charles’s main mentors might have trained him for the situation, but it’s unlikely that he could really put the ideas into action. Spears, the director of communications at the Schumacher Center, pointed out that the fundamental importance of direct democracy was at the cornerstone of Schumacher’s ideas. “If we find a solution to the problem, it won’t come at COP27,” he said. “It will come from the communities on the ground who are working hard to come up with democratic solutions.”

 

Ultimately it might have actually been impossible for the future king to truly embrace the ideas of localism, and an unelected monarch might never be the person who will bring about egalitarian, sustainable communities. But Charles did find a way to preserve environmental rhetoric even when it became unfashionable, and due in part to his decades of work, concern for the environment now feels central to British identity. As the wave of direct action coming from young adults in Britain is already proving, it’s the next generation’s turn to carry that further.


 King Charles will have to tone down support for net zero after Badenoch says 2050 is ‘impossible’

 

Constitutional expert says Tory leader’s break from political consensus over target for greenhouse gasses will require monarch to choose his words carefully

 

Richard Palmer

Sat 5 Apr 2025 18.00 BST

https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2025/apr/05/king-charles-will-have-to-tone-down-support-for-net-zero-after-badenoch-says-2050-is-impossible

 

King Charles will have to temper his public support for net zero after Kemi Badenoch broke the political consensus over the UK’s greenhouse gas emissions.

 

Senior royal sources have conceded that the 76-year-old monarch, who has spent more than half a century highlighting environmental challenges, will have to choose his words more carefully now that the Conservatives under Badenoch have said it will be impossible for the UK to hit net zero by 2050.

 

“The only way that we can regain it [trust] is to tell the unvarnished truth – net zero by 2050 is impossible,” the Conservative leader said last month.

 

Charles III has spoken publicly about how vital it is to hit net zero by the 2050 target date, set by Theresa May’s government in 2019 and agreed upon by subsequent administrations. Successive prime ministers have used the king’s long track record on campaigning for climate action to help promote Britain’s leadership on combatting the challenges.

 

In December 2023, for example, the king told the Cop28 UN climate change conference in Dubai that more urgent action was needed to bring the world towards a zero-carbon future. “After all, ladies and gentlemen, in 2050 our grandchildren won’t be asking what we said, they will be living with the consequences of what we did or didn’t do,” he said.

 

At that point, the main UK political parties were agreed on the issue. Now the monarch runs the risk of becoming embroiled in a party political dispute. In addition to the change in the Conservative view, Reform wants to scrap net zero completely.

 

Craig Prescott, a constitutional expert at Royal Holloway, University of London, suggested the king must be less specific about his own views on the target. “I think if you take the view that the monarchy has to be ‘two or three steps away’ from party politics then, as party politics changes, the monarchy should change,” he said.

 

Charles, who flies to Italy tomorrow with Queen Camilla for a state visit that lasts until Thursday, will still put tackling the climate crisis and other environmental challenges at the heart of his monarchy.

 

The work to create a more sustainable future will be a feature of the trip. In Rome, the king will join a meeting chaired by the foreign secretary, David Lammy, and attended by business leaders to hear how Britain and Italy are working together on the transition to clean energy. In Ravenna he will meet farmers whose land and crops have been severely affected by devastating floods in the region in the past few years.

 

He and Camilla, who celebrate their 20th wedding anniversary at a state banquet in Rome on Wednesday evening, will visit the Colosseum and celebrate close defence ties between the two countries, in spite of the political differences between Keir Starmer’s Labour party and Italy’s rightwing leader, Giorgia Meloni.

 

The need to avoid involving the king in party political controversy has been highlighted after documents released on Friday revealed that the monarch secretly met Prince Andrew to discuss his future and was twice briefed about plans for him to be involved in a £2.4bn investment fund run by an alleged Chinese spy, Yang Tengbo. Buckingham Palace insisted Yang, since banned from Britain despite protesting his innocence, was not specifically mentioned.

 

Prince William is likely to attend the Cop30 UN climate conference in Belém, Brazil, in November and may also be more guarded than before about his views on achieving net zero, although royals may still be expected to reflect on government policy on the international stage.

 

Any silencing of the monarch and his heir threatens to weaken Britain’s voice abroad, according to some environmental groups. Shaun Spiers, executive director of the environmental thinktank Green Alliance, said Charles might be unable to speak out specifically on the 2050 target but could talk generally about the need for climate action. “The king is a well-respected leader and it would be a shame if he didn’t speak on it, particularly internationally,” he said.

 

Reshima Sharma, deputy head of politics at Greenpeace UK, pointed to popular support for green policies. “King Charles has long been an important advocate for action to clean up our environment and tackle climate change. While the monarchy must remain politically neutral, thankfully climate action continues to receive the kind of popular support that politicians can only dream of. This is reflected across voters of all stripes,” she said.

 

Buckingham Palace declined to comment.


Thursday, 10 April 2025

Nicolas Puech, Hermès Heir, an Emir and a Deal Gone Wrong

 



The Strange Case of an Hermès Heir, an Emir and a Deal Gone Wrong

 

Nicolas Puech agreed to sell his multibillion-dollar stake in his family’s luxury goods empire to the royal family of Qatar, but then said he couldn’t gain access to his shares.

 


Ephrat Livni

By Ephrat Livni

April 9, 2025, 5:02 a.m. ET

https://www.nytimes.com/2025/04/09/world/europe/hermes-qatar-puech-deal.html

 

Nicolas Puech is an heir to the Hermès fortune whose riches are shrouded in mystery. He either is or is not a billionaire, and may or may not have a sizable stake in his family’s luxury brand, depending on when and where these matters come up.

 

A new lawsuit filed in federal court late last month says that Mr. Puech recently claimed he does hold that stake, about 5 percent of the company, and had signed a deal to sell more than six million shares in Hermès to the royal family of Qatar. But Mr. Puech has also previously told courts in Switzerland, where he lives, that his shares had disappeared in the hands of a wealth manager.

 

The complaint in federal court in the District of Columbia, now under seal, accused Mr. Puech of failing to honor the sale, adding fresh intrigue to the enduring enigma of his wealth and offering a glimpse into the luxury ambitions of Qatar’s monarchy. The original suit was rejected on a technicality by the court, and the plaintiff has refiled with a motion to keep it under seal.

 

Mr. Puech, 82, is a great-grandson of Thierry Hermès, a 19th-century saddle maker who turned his business into a fashion powerhouse revered even by other fashion brands. Hermès — known, among other things, for the exclusive Birkin bags it sells only to insiders — was valued at $300 billion in mid-February, just days after Mr. Puech signed a deal to sell his shares, then worth over $15 billion, according to filings in the suit.

 

It is not the first time Mr. Puech and his slice of the family fortune have been the subjects of great debate and litigation.

 

In 2023, he made waves after moving to adopt his middle-aged, married Moroccan gardener to bequeath him half his fortune, prompting resistance from a charity he had formed, which expected the inheritance.

 

In a separate matter, Mr. Puech told Swiss judges that his longtime financial manager had swindled him out of his shares. But an appeals court last year rejected claims of fraud and found Mr. Puech knowingly gave the financial manager free rein to handle his affairs.

 

And there have been questions about Mr. Puech’s stake in Hermès — and just how much of it may remain — ever since he alienated his family by siding with a rival luxury tycoon, Bernard Arnault of LVMH, in Mr. Arnault’s failed bid to gain control of Hermès more than a decade ago.

 

The new lawsuit, filed by Honor America Capital, accuses Mr. Puech of breach of the contract to sell his shares, and asks the court to order him to make good on his pledge and to pay $1.3 billion in damages for “lost profits, opportunity costs, and reputational harm.” The company was formed by the deputy emir of Qatar in Washington in February, and court documents show it is backed by the emir himself.

 

A contract and letters filed with the complaint show the deal was discussed for months and signed on Feb. 10. A representative for Honor America Capital wrote to Mr. Puech’s lawyer in Switzerland to “confirm that we have secured a full funding commitment from His Highness Sheikh Tamim bin Hamad Al Thani, Emir of the State of Qatar” to close the deal.

 

But Mr. Puech twice delayed the share transfer, based on letters sent by his representative and filed with the court. On March 19, his lawyer wrote to the monarchy’s company to say that despite “best and repeated efforts,” his client was “unable” to get his shares and had concluded it would be “futile” to set another closing date.

 

Lawyers for the parties did not respond to requests for comment. But Mr. Puech’s past could not have been lost on the Qataris, who have an expansive portfolio of high-end retail and luxury brand holdings — including the Harrods and Printemps department stores — through their sovereign wealth fund and investment vehicles backed by the royal family. Still, the chances of getting a chunk of Hermès, apparently outweighed any risks of doing business with Mr. Puech, some experts suggest.

 

The share price of Hermès has spiked more than 200 percent in five years, and the brand is increasingly hot, even as other luxury purveyors have faltered. Gaining a 5 percent stake would be “super valuable,” said Eric Talley, a Columbia University professor specializing in corporate and transactional law.

 

It would be difficult to calculate damages, based on the structure of the deal and legal rules about remedies, Mr. Talley said, so rather than sorting it out, a judge could simply order Mr. Puech to complete the deal. Even if it turns out that Mr. Puech is correct and the shares are not immediately accessible, a ruling in their favor would give the Qataris legal leverage if his estate is eventually untangled and the shares resurface.

 

But prying loose those shares could prove extremely challenging. Mr. Puech has filed a complaint in France against his former wealth manager, reiterating the claims he made in Switzerland that the shares had disappeared.

 

Ephrat Livni is a reporter for The Times’s DealBook newsletter, based in Washington.

Wednesday, 9 April 2025

Last time Trump was in office, London’s Savile Row became a target for his administration’s tariffs.

 


UK

Sarah Butler

https://www.theguardian.com/business/2025/jan/26/trump-tariffs-businesses-global-worldwide

 

Last time Trump was in office, London’s Savile Row became a target for his administration’s tariffs.

 

In October 2019, every bespoke suit sold to the US from the UK was slapped with a 25% tax – part of a list of products targeted with duties in retaliation for the EU giving subsidies to plane-maker Airbus. The tariffs were in place until 2021, well into the Covid pandemic, by which time tailors, and many other businesses, were struggling with a host of other issues.

 

Huntsman, a Savile Row tailor established in 1879 and an inspiration for the Kingsman films, with an outlet in New York as well as London, chose not to pass on the cost of the duty to its clients.

 

Sales did not drop, according to Taj Phull, the firm’s managing director. “We had to absorb it so it didn’t reflect on to our customer,” he said. “It had an impact on operating profit in New York.”

 

The business was partly protected by the ease of travel between New York and London before the pandemic, when US visitors to the UK were able to claim back VAT on goods they took home and “customers wanted the shopping experience of Savile Row”, Phull said.

 

“We are a destination not an impulsive buy when you need a suit,” he added. “It is thought-through process for a lot of customers, whether an aspirational product someone has saved for, or a longstanding customer.”

 

Back in 2019, however, sales to the US were only about a quarter of the tailor’s business. Now they account for more like 40%, so such a tariff would have more of an impact.

 

Phull is nevertheless hopeful that the industry is not in Trump’s sights as a target for future tariff hits. “It was a weird thing when the Airbus tariff came out,” he said. “And I don’t see it being brought up again.”

 

Savile Row in firing line as US tariffs hit the UK

18 October 2019

https://www.bbc.com/news/business-50043349

 

Dearbail Jordan

Business reporter

Sean Dixon, co-founder of Richard James, says the Savile Row tailor feels "a bit like collateral damage".

 

He and the other bespoke tailoring firms who line the world-famous London street feel bruised because, from Friday, every suit they sell to the US faces a new export tax of 25%.

 

They are on a list of products the US is targeting with tariffs in retaliation for the EU giving illegal subsidies to plane-maker Airbus.

 

And it has left Savile Row reeling.

 

"I don't think anybody on the street was aware of [the tariff]," says James Sleater, founder and director of Savile Row's newest tailor, Cad & the Dandy, whose clients include British rapper Stormzy and rugby player Mike Tindall.

 

"Conversations about Airbus and [US President Donald] Trump and Savile Row are not normally three words that go hand in hand," he says.

 

The street has had little time to prepare for the tariff, which almost doubles the tax on an exported suit from roughly 13% to 25%.

 

On 2 October, the World Trade Organisation (WTO) gave the US permission to impose taxes on $7.5bn (£5.8bn) of goods it imports from the EU.

It was the latest chapter in a long-running battle between Washington and Brussels over illegal subsidies given to planemakers Airbus and rival Boeing.

 

That same day, the US published the list of EU products that would face the new taxes, including men's woollen suits made in the UK, as well as cashmere knitwear and Scotch whisky - and told businesses the tariffs would come into force on 18 October.

 

The tariffs come at a crucial time for the UK, which is preparing to leave the EU and strike trade deals with other nations, including the US.

 

International Trade Secretary Liz Truss says: "Resorting to tit-for-tat tariffs is not in any country's best interests and we are in regular contact with the Trump administration, urging them to refrain from resorting to such measures.

 

"As well as causing temporary disruption to UK businesses, it would also hit American consumers in the pocket."

 

Important market

Kathryn Sargent, Savile Row's first female master tailor, is concerned that her clients in the US, who make up a third of her business, may not be aware of the new tax.

 

She travels to cities such as New York, Chicago and Washington DC three times a year to visit customers, show them fabrics and do fittings for her suits, which start at about £5,500.

 

"It is a conversation that I'll be having with my clients when I'm over there, to sense what their reaction is and to see if it puts them off placing future orders," she says.

 

North America is an important market for Savile Row, as well as the wider British luxury industry.

 

Mr Sleater reckons that total sales of the street's goods into the US total some £40m.

 

The US is also the second largest export market, behind Europe, for UK luxury products, according to Walpole, the trade body for the British luxury sector, and Frontier Economics.

 

But it is not just the business connection between the two countries that is important to Savile Row's tailors.

 

"All the past US presidents have had garments made in Savile Row," says Ms Sargent. "When you think of all the Hollywood greats like Fred Astaire and Cary Grant, there is a beautiful relationship between Savile Row and America, so this tariff really hits us hard."

 

She hopes that her US clients' "love of British quality craftsmanship" will overcome any concerns about the added cost of buying a Savile Row suit.

 

Small bespoke tailoring firms like Ms Sargent's will not be able to absorb the cost of the tax.

 

Mr Dixon says that Richard James, one of the few Savile Row tailors with a store in the US, says it will do its best to absorb the cost: "But we think there will be a price… we will have to pass some of this on to our customers."

 

'Affluent'

Arguably, the type of people who have a bespoke suit made by a Savile Row tailor are not short of a pound or two.

 

"The customer base is fairly affluent," admits Mr Dixon, whose clients include actor Benedict Cumberbatch, footballer David Beckham and rapper P Diddy. "Nevertheless, an increase is an increase and we pride ourselves on people getting value for money, especially for a Savile Row suit.

 

"The amount of man-hours that go into it, the incredible fabrics used and a suit that can last 20 years or 30 years and then to have a big part of that being paid in tax. I don't know how people are going to feel about that."

 

While Savile Row's tailors were shocked by the tariffs, Walpole was not.

 

"We're disappointed, of course," says Helen Brocklebank, Walpole's chief executive. "But we're not surprised that suiting and textiles and fine fabrics came so heavily top of the list."

 

She says that UK luxury goods such as cashmere sweaters have often been targeted by the US in trade tussles.

 

In 1999, when Bill Clinton was in the White House, Scottish cashmere sweaters faced sanctions following a WTO ruling in a row between the US and the UK about bananas.

 

But Ms Brocklebank does not think this latest round of tariffs will have a major impact on sales of UK luxury goods.

 

"You have quite a weak pound at the moment and the number of US visitors coming to the UK to shop for these kinds of goods is at an all-time high, so I don't think that the impact is going to be enormous," she says.

 

Big win?

President Trump, who reportedly favours suits made by Italy's Brioni, described the WTO ruling at the beginning of October as a "big win" for the US.

 

But his jubilation - and any pain felt by UK businesses - may be short-lived.

 

Ms Brocklebank points out that next spring, the WTO will rule on Boeing, the US planemaker, which it found had benefited from tax breaks.

 

The EU could then be given the green light to enforce its own tariffs on US goods.

 

Mr Sleater says that while Cad & the Dandy was caught unaware by the new taxes, Savile Row should use the opportunity to elevate its brand, which has historically always been about understatement.

 

He says that while Italy's suitmakers - who are not facing US tariffs - have actively promoted their industry, Savile Row has not.

 

"The key thing about this is to stomach the tariffs being placed on us and - I'm talking about the street here - we somehow need to find a way to make our clothes even more appealing.

 

"Never before has there been such a time when branding is really, really important."

Tuesday, 8 April 2025

Remembering the ( so called ) 'Balmoral Test' and revealing the film location: Ardverikie House , Scotland











 Besides “The Crown” and “Monarch of the Glen,” Ardverikie House has also appeared in:

“Outlander” on Starz

“Mrs. Brown,” the 1997 Dame Judy Dench movie about Queen Victoria

“The Missionary,” the 1992 movie starring Michael Palin

“Miss Marple: A Murder is Announced,” a miniseries in 1985

“Salmon Fishing in the Yemen” a 2011 movie about fly fishing

“Outlaw King,” the 2018 movie with Chris Pine

“No Time to Die,” an upcoming James Bond movie with Daniel Craig

 

Ardverikie House is a 19th-century Scottish baronial house in Kinloch Laggan, Newtonmore, Inverness-shire, Scottish Highlands. The house was made famous as the fictional Glenbogle estate in the BBC series Monarch of the Glen.

 

The lands historically belonged to Clan Macpherson. The 20th chief, Ewen Macpherson, leased Benalder and Ardverikie in 1844 to The 2nd Marquess of Abercorn, an Ulster-Scots peer, "one of the trend setters in the emerging interest in deer stalking in Scotland." The Marquess expanded the original shooting lodge. He served as Groom of the Stool to Prince Albert, husband of Queen Victoria, who along with the prince spent three weeks at Ardverikie in the late summer of 1847.

 

In 1860, Lord Abercorn transferred the lease to Lord Henry Bentinck, another stalking enthusiast, who lived there until his death in 1870.

 

Sir John Ramsden purchased the Ardverikie and Benalder forests in 1871 for £107,500 (equivalent to £10,083,219 in 2019). In 1873, the house was destroyed by fire, and was rebuilt from 1874 to 1878. It was rebuilt in the popular style of Scottish baronial architecture, designed by the architect John Rhind.

 

Ramsden's son, Sir John Frecheville Ramsden, inherited the lands after his father's death in 1914. The majority of the land was sold off following the two World Wars, and in 1956 Sir John transferred the Ardverikie Estate to a family company under the chairmanship of his son, Sir William Pennington-Ramsden. The company, Ardverikie Estate Limited, still owns and manages the estate today. The estate does business renting cottages and letting the property for weddings.

 

Filming location

Ardverikie House and its estate have been used as a location for filming. It is most recognisable as the Glenbogle Estate in the BBC series Monarch of the Glen, that ran for seven series from 2000 to 2005. It was also used in Miss Marple: A Murder is Announced (1985), the films Mrs Brown (1997), Salmon Fishing in the Yemen (2011), and Outlaw King (2018). The estate has been featured in the series Outlander, and in the first, second, & fourth seasons of the Netflix drama The Crown, standing in for the Balmoral Estate.

 

During summer 2019, filming of No Time to Die was taking place in the town of Aviemore and the surrounding Cairngorms National Park with some scenes shot at the Ardverikie Estate.

Besides “The Crown” and “Monarch of the Glen,” Ardverikie House has also appeared in:

“Outlander” on Starz

“Mrs. Brown,” the 1997 Dame Judy Dench movie about Queen Victoria

“The Missionary,” the 1992 movie starring Michael Palin

“Miss Marple: A Murder is Announced,” a miniseries in 1985

“Salmon Fishing in the Yemen” a 2011 movie about fly fishing

“Outlaw King,” the 2018 movie with Chris Pine

“No Time to Die,” an upcoming James Bond movie with Daniel Craig

 

Ardverikie House is a 19th-century Scottish baronial house in Kinloch Laggan, Newtonmore, Inverness-shire, Scottish Highlands. The house was made famous as the fictional Glenbogle estate in the BBC series Monarch of the Glen.

 

The lands historically belonged to Clan Macpherson. The 20th chief, Ewen Macpherson, leased Benalder and Ardverikie in 1844 to The 2nd Marquess of Abercorn, an Ulster-Scots peer, "one of the trend setters in the emerging interest in deer stalking in Scotland." The Marquess expanded the original shooting lodge. He served as Groom of the Stool to Prince Albert, husband of Queen Victoria, who along with the prince spent three weeks at Ardverikie in the late summer of 1847.

 

In 1860, Lord Abercorn transferred the lease to Lord Henry Bentinck, another stalking enthusiast, who lived there until his death in 1870.

 

Sir John Ramsden purchased the Ardverikie and Benalder forests in 1871 for £107,500 (equivalent to £10,083,219 in 2019). In 1873, the house was destroyed by fire, and was rebuilt from 1874 to 1878. It was rebuilt in the popular style of Scottish baronial architecture, designed by the architect John Rhind.

 

Ramsden's son, Sir John Frecheville Ramsden, inherited the lands after his father's death in 1914. The majority of the land was sold off following the two World Wars, and in 1956 Sir John transferred the Ardverikie Estate to a family company under the chairmanship of his son, Sir William Pennington-Ramsden. The company, Ardverikie Estate Limited, still owns and manages the estate today. The estate does business renting cottages and letting the property for weddings.

 

Filming location

Ardverikie House and its estate have been used as a location for filming. It is most recognisable as the Glenbogle Estate in the BBC series Monarch of the Glen, that ran for seven series from 2000 to 2005. It was also used in Miss Marple: A Murder is Announced (1985), the films Mrs Brown (1997), Salmon Fishing in the Yemen (2011), and Outlaw King (2018). The estate has been featured in the series Outlander, and in the first, second, & fourth seasons of the Netflix drama The Crown, standing in for the Balmoral Estate.

 

During summer 2019, filming of No Time to Die was taking place in the town of Aviemore and the surrounding Cairngorms National Park with some scenes shot at the Ardverikie Estate.

Monday, 7 April 2025

THE NEW BOOK OF SNOBS A Definitive Guide to Modern Snobbery By D.J. Taylor / Andrew Mitchell and the Plebgate affair.




THE NEW BOOK OF SNOBS

A Definitive Guide to Modern Snobbery
By D.J. Taylor
Illustrated. 275 pages. Constable.

The New Book of Snobs by DJ Taylor review – what is the new snobbery?

There are film snobs, garden snobs and inverse snobs, not just people who send their children to elite private schools. Snobbery is in all classes and is a very human failing

Bee Wilson

Thu 27 Oct 2016 06.59 BST Last modified on Wed 29 Nov 2017 10.11 GMT


 “I’m afraid we’ve become terrible salt snobs,” joked the late food writer Alan Davidson when he and his wife Jane had me round for lunch one day in the early 2000s. On the table were a panoply of special salts, from pink Himalayan to damp, grey fleur de sel from France. Announcing himself as a salt snob was a form of gentle self-mockery, something Alan was good at. He knew how absurd it was to have all these salts, when he could have made do with a cheap tub of Saxa. But it was also a modest kind of boastfulness. Alan wanted me to notice how superior his salt collection was, which I duly did.

The concept of snobbery is deeply complex, as the literary critic and biographer DJ Taylor cleverly explores in his “definitive guide” to snobs. Snobbery is a form of social superiority, but it can also be a moral failing. Snobs may laud it over others, but we, in turn, despise and punish them for it. Taylor starts his book with the “Plebgate” affair of 2012, in which the government chief whip Andrew Mitchell was forced to resign his official post, and later pay substantial damages, after it emerged that he had rebuked a police officer who asked him not to cycle through the gates of 10 Downing Street with the words: “Best you learn your fucking place … You’re fucking plebs.” As Taylor notes, Mitchell’s sin was not to swear, but his use of the word “plebs”, which, in ancient Rome, simply meant the common people.

In modern times, very few snobs are snobs all the time. To be a salt snob does not necessarily mean that you will be a snob in any other area of your life. Taylor confesses that he becomes a snob whenever he hears Adele on the radio or hears a Channel 4 presenter “tumbling over her glottal stops”, but hopes that he is not a snob per se. He is the son of a grammar school boy from a council estate and feels that he knew “all about petty social distinctions from an early age”. He is fascinated by the many forms snobbery takes, from the garden snobs who despise hanging baskets and patios (the correct word, apparently, is terrace) to the inverse snobs who feel superior to anything that smacks too much of “middle-class” behaviour. Taylor also identifies the film snob, a perverse individual who may consider Brian de Palma’s Body Double wildly underrated and sees no point in Meryl Streep.

In his The Book of Snobs (1846-7), the novelist WM Thackeray noted that some people were snobs “only in certain circumstances and relations of life”. Others, however, were what Thackeray called positive snobs, who were “snobs everywhere, in all companies, from morning to night, from youth to grave”. Thackeray argued that in the Victorian society in which he lived, many people could not help being positive snobs, because the whole of British national life was founded on the principle of hereditary privilege. The true snob, in Thackeray’s book, would find, as Taylor explains, that “his entire existence is governed by its logic: wife, house, career, recreations”. The Victorian snobs depicted by Thackeray might ruin themselves to pay for a fashionable hat or a pianoforte in the back parlour or an absurdly expensive truffle-laden dinner. This was because they felt it was social death to dine with people of the wrong class, such as doctors or lawyers, instead of “the country families”.

Maybe I move in the wrong circles (or do I mean the right circles?), but I wonder how many people in modern Britain, even posh people, still think or act like this. Taylor, the author of a biography of Thackeray, aspires to update The Book of Snobs to modern Britain. But for much of the book, it feels as if he has hardly updated it at all, writing as if all snobs were people who necessarily went to elite public schools and who insist, like Nancy Mitford, on being “U” and not “non-U”. Taylor anatomises many varieties of current snob: school snobs, country snobs, property snobs and so on, in novelistic sketches. But many of his different snobs end up sounding rather similar, and I don’t recognise much of contemporary society in his book.

By the end, Taylor’s snob seems to have become a very specific class of person, one who keeps labradors, eats potted shrimps and cares about whether someone went to Winchester or Eton. Such a snob is rather like the Sloane Ranger of the 1980s (his acknowledgments cite Ann Barr and Peter York’s The Official Sloane Ranger Handbook, on which he seems to have modelled some of his style). Snobs, Taylor writes, are “fond of mangling or truncating personal pronouns”. The “diehard snob doesn’t have a bath, he ‘takes his tub’”. Late middle-age snobs “talk artlessly of having ‘made a bish’”. The snob, Taylor airily claims, “is a person who uses a title ostentatiously”.

Yet we can all think of plenty of snobs, of one kind or another, who base their snobbery neither on title nor ostentation. And so can Taylor. What makes this book a missed opportunity is that he has taken what could have been a panoramic meditation on the place of snobbery in British society and crammed it into a needlessly narrow and archaic framework, giving the impression that snobs only belong to that class of people who are found on the grouse moor or in Debrett’s.

Taylor is an intelligent writer, however, and the best parts of this uneven book suggest that snobbery is far from limited to the upper classes. “Snobbery is universal,” he argues at one point. ‘“No social class, intellectual category or art form is immune to the snob virus.” The essence of all snobbery, Taylor says, is the making of arbitrary distinctions. It consists of “imposing yourself on a social situation, pulling rank, indicating, with varying degrees of subtlety, your own detachment from the people in whose presence you find yourself”. As such, it is both an unlikable characteristic and a very human one. Whether we are eating salt or deciding where our child goes to school, the person has not yet been born who never once secretly felt that his or her way of doing things was better. The snob is someone who hasn’t yet realised when to keep these feelings to himself.


‘The New Book of Snobs’ Updates the Shifting Science of Social Cues

By Dwight Garner
April 18, 2017

The English writer William Golding (“Lord of the Flies”) had a longstanding sense of social inadequacy. When he applied to Oxford University, the admissions interviewer noted that he was “N.T.S.” — not top shelf.

Golding wrote that he would like to sneak up on Eton, the elite private school, as if he were a cartoon villain, “with a mile or two of wire, a few hundred tons of TNT and one of those plunger-detonating machines which makes the user feel like Jehovah.”

There’s no sting like a class sting. There’s a bit of Golding, an imagined status-anarchist, in most of us. Who doesn’t hate snobs? Yet we’re all snobs about some things.

It’s among the contentions of D. J. Taylor’s clever and timely “The New Book of Snobs” that the world would be a poorer place without a bit of insolence and ostentation. “The cultivation of an arbitrary superiority,” he writes — whether we are in a refugee camp or a manor house — “is a vital part of the curious behavioral compound that makes us who we are.”

Often enough, you’d need a hydraulic rescue tool, a Jaws of Life, to pry apart snobbery from a simple human desire to get ahead. As Taylor puts it, “not all social aspiration is snobbish” and “to want to succeed and to delight in your success is not necessarily to betray a moral failing.”

Taylor’s book takes its title and inspiration from William Makepeace Thackeray’s “The Book of Snobs” (1848), in which that Victorian novelist defined a snob as one “who meanly admires mean things.”

Snobbery is no longer so easy to define. As in a string of binary code, the ones and zeros keep flipping. In a world in which reverse snobbery is often the cruelest sort, it can be hard for the tyro to keep up.

This is where Taylor’s book comes in. “The New Book of Snobs” will not help you navigate the American status system. It’s a very British book; so British that there are currently no plans to publish it in the United States. (I’m reviewing it because it’s new and interesting, and because copies can be easily found online.)

To understand Taylor fully, it will help to be conversant with the humor magazine Viz, as well as with the humor magazine Punch; with the reality-TV star Katie Price as well as with the writer Nancy Mitford; and with the Kray twins and the rapper Tinie Tempah, as well as with Evelyn Waugh and Beau Brummell.

Writing is hard because thinking is hard. Writing about class and snobbery, in particular, is so hard that doing it well bumps you a rung up the class ladder. In America, no one has made a serious attempt to unpick the multiple meanings of status cues since Paul Fussell did in his wicked book “Class” (1983).

As a myriad-minded social critic, Taylor is not quite on Fussell’s level. (Almost no human is.) But he’s astute, supremely well read and frequently very funny. In its combination of impact with effervescence, his book puts me in mind of a Black Velvet, that curious cocktail made from Guinness stout and champagne.

The English class system, with its hereditary titles, is vastly different from ours. But snobbery — class’s meddlesome twin — is a lingua franca. There’s plenty for an attentive student to learn here.

We are in the age of Trump, and, clearly, some forms of attempted snobbery will always take the form of conspicuous consumption. Taylor correctly points out, however, that the wiliest snobs “pursue their craft by stealth.”

He’s excellent on the distinctions that can be conveyed “by an agency as subtle as an undone button, a gesture, a glance, an intonation, the pronunciation of a certain word.” In England, it’s possible to be crushed by the sound of an attenuated vowel.

Americans in Britain, Taylor suggests, must remain on alert. Upper-class Brits like to ridicule American vernacular by stressing our usages, as in (the italics are his) “I think she’s gone to the restroom,” or “We’ll have to take a rain check on that.”

Don’t think you can escape this sort of game. “The man who most loudly proclaims his lack of snobbishness,” Taylor writes, “is most likely to be a snob.”

Taylor’s book is filled with small, tart taxonomies. He lists the great snob heroes of fiction, including Lady Catherine de Bourgh in “Pride and Prejudice.”

He offers tidy profiles of notable snobs, including the journalist and politician Tom Driberg (1905-1976), who would write the managers of hotels in advance, “demanding an assurance that there would be no sauce bottles or other condiments on the dining tables during his stay.”

The author probes some of the class resentment behind Brexit, Britain’s decision to leave the European Union. President Trump is not mentioned in this book. But leaning on George Orwell and Charles Dickens, Taylor discusses nationalism as “an extreme form of snobbery.”

A great deal of strong writing about class has been emerging from Britain in recent years. I’m thinking, in particular, of Owen Jones’s book “Chavs: The Demonization of the Working Class” (2011). Taylor’s book is vastly different from Jones’s, but, in a sense, these men are climbing the same mountain from different sides.

To linger on the topic of class can seem like a sign of a sick soul. The subject can make us touchy, whether we are highborn or low or someplace in the middle. The critic Dwight Macdonald was a man of the radical left, yet a descendant of the old Dwight family of New England. In one grouchy 1947 letter, he wrote, “We can’t all be proletarians, you know.”

With nearly all status signifiers in flux, books like Taylor’s are more important than ever. Snobbery and immense learning, he makes plain, do not always walk hand in hand.

But in 2017, it pays to heed the advice of Ian McEwan, who wrote: “It is quite impossible these days to assume anything about people’s educational level from the way they talk or dress or from their taste in music. Safest to treat everyone you meet as a distinguished intellectual.”

Follow Dwight Garner on Twitter: @DwightGarner




Andrew Mitchell and the Plebgate affair explained for non-Brits
Why is ‘pleb’ a toxic word? How can a judge calling you a bit dim be a good thing? And how can two people sue each other at the same time? A guide for non-British readers

Peter Walker
 @peterwalker99
Thu 27 Nov 2014 18.33 GMT Last modified on Thu 21 Sep 2017 00.35 BST

Andrew Mitchell, who resigned as chief whip over the 'plebgate' affair

A senior British politician, Andrew Mitchell, has lost a high-profile libel action against the publishers of the biggest-selling daily newspaper, the Sun. That’s the easy bit.

For non-Britons, or indeed anyone who has not been following each twist and turn in a two-year saga which takes in politics, policing, law, the media, language, class snobbery and the intricacies of who can use which gate at Downing Street, everything else gets a bit complex.

We’re here to help. Below is a handy guide to what happened and what it all means.

So what did happen?
It all began on the evening of 19 September 2012 when Mitchell, then chief whip of the government – effectively the enforcer for the ruling party, the person who keeps discipline and makes sure ministers vote as they are ordered – tried to cycle out of Downing Street. He was in a rush, en route to an engagement, and wanted to ride directly out of the main vehicle gates.

But to Mitchell’s displeasure, he was told to dismount and walk his bike through a pedestrian entrance. He argued with the officer on duty, PC Toby Rowland and, according to the officer’s account of the exchange, told him:

Best you learn your fucking place – you don’t run this fucking government – you’re fucking plebs.

All this was gleefully recounted in the next day’s Sun newspaper, and even though Mitchell denied using the word “plebs”, the continued bad publicity led him to resign just over a month later.

The row has rumbled on ever since, including minute examination of CCTV footage from the evening in question, and culminating in a legal case which finished on Thursday that saw Mitchell sue the Sun for libel over its story, while at the same time Mitchell was sued by PC Rowland for calling the policeman a liar.

The judge, Mr Justice Mitting, released a complex ruling, but one that concluded Mitchell did use “the words alleged or something so close”, including the word pleb.

What’s the big problem with pleb?
Meaning a common, or lower-class person, pleb is a largely outdated piece of slang in Britain, rarely heard by most in recent years before Mitchell inadvertently brought it back to prominence.

As insults go, pleb is relatively mild, and has a distinguished etymology, being derived from the Latin term plebeian, a member of the lower orders in ancient Rome. However, it is a class-based slur, and despite weekly newspaper articles decreeing the end of class, Britons remain obsessed by social status, especially the idea a compatriot might be judging them in connection with it.

This obsession is all the more the case in the government in which Mitchell served, which is dominated by the products of England’s top private schools, which are, confusingly, known as public schools. Chief among these is Eton, attended by David Cameron. Mitchell went to the very marginally less posh Rugby – current fees for boarders about £32,000 (just over $50,000) a year – but was later an army officer and investment banker, which makes him very posh.

The idea of a government minister using a class-laden insult to demean an ordinary policeman was seen as especially toxic. It didn’t help Mitchell’s case that he was annoyed at being held up while heading to the Carlton Club, an old and hugely posh private members’ club.

Who did people believe?
It depends who you asked, and when you asked them. Mitchell has something of a reputation for anger and blunt speaking – OK, for being very rude. The just-finished libel trial heard testimony about him calling one security officer “a little shit” and telling another, charmingly:

That’s a bit above your pay grade Mr Plod.

But there were also claims the police exaggerated the complaints, in part as a political manoeuvre targeting a government which has sought major restructuring of policing. The Plebgate affair, as it was inevitably know, was used as a campaign tool in fighting police cuts. Eventually, two officers were sacked, one for passing information to the Sun.

For about two days Mitchell was a semi-popular cause célèbre among British leftwing Twitter users, who liked to argue that if he could be fitted up by the police, what hope was there for young black men from the inner city. This didn’t last long.

Why did the judge decide against Mitchell?
In what might count as a slightly mixed verdict for PC Rowland, the judge ruled in part that he thought it unlikely the officer had invented the “pleb” exchange because he seemingly did not have the imagination to do so.


Karen McVeigh
@karenmcveigh1
 Not only did Rowland lack wit, inclination imagination to fabricate, neither did he inclination for pantomime invention needed #plebgate

Is Mitchell uniquely rude among British ex-cabinet ministers?


No. Not even this week. David Mellor, who served in government in the early 1990s, was in the news this week for raging at a London taxi driver he thought had taken the wrong route. Among the choice sentences recorded by the driver on his mobile phone was this volley:

You’ve been driving a cab for 10 years, I’ve been in the cabinet, I’m an award-winning broadcaster, I’m a Queen’s Counsel. You think that your experiences are anything compared to mine?

What’s the lesson from all this?
Don’t be rude to the police. And be wary of trying to take them on in the courts – the police trade union, the Police Federation, has spent a reported £1m ($660,000) backing Rowland’s case. And if you must be rude as a British politician – as Emily Thornberry also knows only too well – just don’t bring class into things.





Patricia Routledge as the snob Hyacinth Bucket in Keeping Up Appearances