Manchester

Would you blush to admit you lived in Crotch Crescent in Oxford? Once again, newspaper stories have sprouted about rude-sounding place-names. It all seems rather artificial. What happens is that a company seeking publicity (this time a financial products outfit) finds a list of place-names that could be taken as rude. They get a survey company to show the list to innocent bystanders, who say which they find rudest. Newspapers obligingly publish the graded list as though it were news: Fanny Avenue, Crotch Crescent, Titty Hill, Wetwang, Shitterton… down to Jackass Avenue and Great Snoring. (Are those two even rude?) In truth, Crotch Crescent is named after a child prodigy and composer, William Crotch (1775-1847).

The present Lord Howard de Walden’s first name is not Howard. It’s Peter, for the 11th Baron is the film-maker Peter Czernin. In 2004, the barony of Howard de Walden was called out of abeyance in favour of the 9th Baron’s eldest daughter, who married Joseph Czernin. All this spoils it for the Financial Times, which refers to peers according to this pattern: Lord Peter Mandelson. That is not English. Lord Peter Mandelson would be the son of a duke or marquess, like Lord Peter Wimsey, the younger son of the Duke of Denver. My husband has been driven to incoherent rage by wireless announcers talking of Lady Victoria Starmer, the wife of the former PM, and making things worse by referring to her as the First Lady. In America the First Lady is the wife of the head of state.

‘Well, we all have areas of ignorance,’ said my husband with a little too much relish, I thought. He was responding to my admission that I had reached a ripe old age without realising that the words yoga and yoke had the same origin. Yoke has been used in English for more than 1,000 years and yoga only since about 1785, but it had been in use in Sanskrit since the first millennium bc. The meaning of yoga was held to be either the yoking and reining in of the senses, or the yoking and joining oneself to the Prana (life force), the Om (absolute) and the Universe.

When my husband asked me whether I knew any mathematics at all, I replied by telling him that I had been a properly brought-up girl. The cause of our little wrangle was the phrase vanishingly unlikely. A newspaper article on scams pointed out that ‘only a tiny minority of oil workers are women, meaning it is vanishingly unlikely to meet a real one online’. Another said that ‘Britain is vanishingly unlikely to meet Nato’s target of spending 5 per cent of GDP on national security by 2035.’ In both those examples, vanishingly is used in the sense ‘infinitesimally’. But the meaning properly wanted here is ‘hugely’ or ‘almost infinitely’ unlikely. It is the likelihood that is vanishingly small. The unlikelihood is very great.

‘If I hear anyone say Manchesterism again, I will…’ said my husband, leaving his thought unfinished, and slipping, rather easily, into the role of Lear in his impotence. I had no intention of explaining to him what Andy Burnham means by Manchesterism. No one knows – perhaps not even he. But the word has been around since 1883, when it was reputed to be a system that ‘enriched the few at the expense of the many’. That had been the charge against its inventors, Richard Cobden and John Bright, whom Disraeli accused in 1846 of being ‘Gentlemen of the Manchester School, who believe they may fight hostile tariffs with free imports’.

Sir Stephen Watson, Chief Constable of Greater Manchester Police (GMP), is Warrington-born, Rhodesia-raised. His father was an engineer in the Royal Navy and his work took the family to South Africa, South West Africa and then, when Sir Stephen was still a schoolboy, the breadbasket. The Watson family stayed in Rhodesia until Robert Mugabe became prime minister in 1980 and threw them out. ‘I saw the collapse of policing,’ Sir Stephen says. ‘I saw the collapse of the rule of law. I saw the collapse of health systems, of education systems, of legal systems.’ He also saw what Britain could lose. ‘I think there is a complacency in the UK. We take things for granted. I like to quote Kipling on this: “What should they know of England who only England know?