In our time

Wednesday

The Spectator

Letters: Let children drink

Chagos stupidity Sir: To British Establishment watchers, Michael Gove’s dissection of the dubious and devious machinations of Jonathan Powell, Richard Hermer, Philippe Sands et al over the Chagos Islands (‘The guilty men’, 31 January) should come as no surprise. Powell, in the Irish Troubles context in particular, has form. His negotiating position more resembled that of an imported diplomat than an official of the UK government. What is surprising in the Chagos fiasco, however, is the seeming gullibility of some at least on the American side. Are they, one wonders, working to a covert agenda of withdrawal and retrenchment, or are they just very stupid? Terry Smith London NW11 Democracy

Wednesday

Angus Colwell

Our verdict on the new In Our Time presenter

Melvyn Bragg’s first ever intro to In Our Time in 1998 clocked in at 21 seconds. Misha Glenny, meanwhile, took one minute and four seconds to get through his. The initial public reaction to Glenny taking over from Bragg was positive. The prevailing sentiment was ‘thank Christ it isn’t Stephen Fry’. But now you felt as though you could hear two million people shouting ‘Get on with it!!’ at the radio as he stressed and elongated virtually every syllable. John Stuart Mill and his wife had been labouring over ‘On Liberty together for soooome yeeaarrss’. Then we were away. And he’s all right, thank God. With In Our Time, there

Thursday

John Phipps

Why In Our Time remains the best thing on radio

In Our Time is the best thing on Radio 4, possibly the best thing on the radio full stop. It is broadcast regularly from a parallel universe where everyone is interesting, everything is worth knowing and anyone can know it if they want to. It gets the best out of its medium by being somewhat contemptuous of it. It understands that the overproduced trimmings of modern radio are entirely extraneous. There will be no sound effects, no music and no catchphrases. All that we need by way of introduction is the word ‘hello’. After that, there’s no telling what will follow. ‘Hello. In 541 AD, in the realm of Justinian,

Saturday

Jeremy Clarke

My love affair with Hannah Arendt

The three of us — me, Catriona and her daughter Skye — were having a wash and brush-up before going out for a meal ata restaurant in the village, when we learnt that President Macron’s smooth dishonest face had just addressed the nation on TV and told it that he had ordered bars, cafés and restaurants and all places of entertainment to be closed until further notice. The news both exhilarated and disappointed: real life had begun in earnest but the bars were shut. Skye assembled a round of gin and tonics and we three settled down in a row with our feet on the coffee table to make our