Charles Moore

Last Saturday, a friend in Washington emailed to say he had been studying some of the latest 3.5 million pages of Epstein files. A few months ago, I had pointed out here (Notes, 11 October 2025) that much of Epstein’s famous ‘black book’ was just the contacts book of Oxford friends of Ghislaine Maxwell. As their contemporary, I congratulated myself on having been at Cambridge, thus avoiding meeting Ghislaine. So my friend’s message came as a bit of a blow. He rubbed it in: ‘You may be interested to hear that you, yourself, feature no fewer than 40 times.’ His second paragraph, however, kindly explained: the 40 references to me were repetitions or duplicates of one reference, in an email from Peter Mandelson to Epstein on 29 November 2009.

In our online edition, Danny Kruger, who is a dear man and my former employee, attacks our editor, Daniel Finkelstein and me for not joining Reform when ‘their party [he means the Conservatives] faces total extinction’. Lords Gove and Finkelstein are indeed Conservatives, but I am not a member of ‘their party’. I sit in the Lords as a ‘non-affiliated’ peer. My approach to life is definitely Tory, but not in a party sense. I would vote – if I had the vote – for any party that showed convincingly how it would govern in the light of conservative views. According to Danny, we should ‘stand barefoot in the snow’ in penitence and receive ‘absolution’ from Nigel Farage – whom he compares to Pope Gregory VII at Canossa.

Donald Trump’s long-standing and ever more ardent desire to own Greenland helps explain his attitude to Putin. Putin used cod history of imperial Russia to justify aggression against Ukraine and was allowed by a feeble West to turn that aggression into actual invasion. Trump avoids condemning that invasion and has supported Putin’s version of Russia’s rights. In relation to Greenland, he produces a sketchy historical account about how American boats got there first and an overdramatised theory, akin to Putin’s Ukraine one, about how a Greenland not owned by the United States threatens his country’s security. Frustrated by what he sees as the prissy pygmies of Nato, he envies the freedom of action of his friend and fellow imperialist, Vladimir.

On Advent Sunday, our grandson Christian became a Christian. He was baptised, sleeping, in the font of our parish church. On the whiteboard in the maternity ward, the newborn’s name beneath his was Mohamed. As is usual (and, in my view, preferable) nowadays, he was christened in the middle of the communion rather than separately. As is less usual, the rite was that of the Book of Common Prayer, ‘The Ministration of Publick Baptism of Infants’. It is tougher than the modern version. The godparents, in the name of the child, had to ‘renounce the devil and all his works, the vain pomp and glory of the world, with all covetous desires of the same, and the carnal desires of the flesh’, but managed with perfect equanimity to drink champagne afterwards.

Sir Tom Stoppard, who died last week, never wrote a memoir, but he did sort of speak one. Just over ten years ago, he told me that he and his new wife, Sabrina Guinness, had become tenants of an old rectory in Dorset. I asked him if he would therefore speak as guest of honour at the AGM of the Rectory Society, a fan club for existing and former clergy houses which I invented in 2005. The AGM always takes place in a central London church, and in 2015, the year I invited Tom, it was held in the Queen’s Chapel beside St James’s Palace. Beyond expressing a tepid wish that speakers make some small reference to the society and its purposes, I never specify their subject.

About seven years ago, I bought two pairs of pyjamas, one British, the other Chinese. At the time, they seemed of roughly similar quality, the important difference being that the Chinese ones were half the price of the British. Given that they have the same ‘lived experience’, I can make a direct comparison. The British ones, by Peter Christian (‘gentlemen’s outfitters’ accompanied by an image of two hares boxing), show few signs of the passing years. Their reddish colour with green and yellow stripes holds fast. There is very little wear and no tear at all. The Chinese pair (labelled ‘sleepwear’) tells a different story – the drawstring disappeared, the elasticated waist (which the British one wisely eschews) decayed, the blue checks faded, the cotton thinned.

When the BBC denies ‘systemic bias’, it denies the main, the crucial thing exposed by Michael Prescott’s now-famous leaked internal memo. Prescott was not presenting a ragbag of mistakes, but examples from many different areas of subjects where an institutional view prevailed – against Donald Trump, pro-trans, pro-immigration etc, all of them defensible views but none of them following rules of impartiality or accuracy. For this reason, the Prescott material about Israel/Gaza coverage is the most important by a long way, though less expensive for the BBC than its doctoring of Trump’s words.

As others, including Nigel Farage, were quick to point out, Sarah Pochin got it wrong. She uttered words which, shorn of their context (as they obviously would be), made her sound racist. But the almost compulsory use of persons of colour to promote products and services is a bit of a wonder of the world. Modernisers often speak of the need for institutions to ‘look like Britain as it is’ (depressing thought), but this seems not to apply on screen. In the style of Ambrose Bierce’s Devil’s Dictionary, I offer a definition of the phrase ‘television ads’, as follows: ‘Short filmic fictions about the blissful and virtuous lives of persons of mixed race or with non-white skin.

Poor old Hamas, losing all those dead Jews. The BBC reports that Hamas ‘could not locate the remaining hostages’ bodies’, of which there are 28. One can understand the problem. When you have been starving and torturing so many for so long, you may not necessarily remember where you left them when they died. In the words of the Balliol student who called for it this week, you have ‘put the Zios in the ground’. Why do more? Don’t your critics know there is (or was) a war on?

‘The facts of life are Conservative.’ This sentence is often attributed to Margaret Thatcher, whose centenary falls next week. The exact words are ‘The facts of life invariably do turn out to be Tory’ and were not hers. They appeared in the first major policy document produced under her leadership, ‘The Right Approach’ (1976). The author was probably Chris Patten, the document’s drafter and more of a ‘wordsmith’ – her coinage – than she. (There might even have been a deliberate Patten double-entendre of the sort that always escaped Mrs T since, in those days, the phrase ‘the facts of life’ meant the sex lessons given by embarrassed parents and teachers to children.) The operative phrase in the sentence is ‘turn out to be’.

It amuses me that the two main parties most averse to the idea of honours, monarchy, chivalry etc are led by knights – Labour by Sir Keir Starmer and the Liberal Democrats by Sir Ed Davey. This is entirely fitting, since they accurately reflect the dominant Blob establishment world-view and so were rewarded by being made Sir rather than staying plain Mr Blobby. But I wonder if the title has electoral disadvantages. Some voters must be subliminally more annoyed by Sir Somebody telling them to be radical, make sacrifices, save the planet and not to be racist than they would be by an untitled politician. On the other hand, it looks as though Sir Tony Blair, a Knight of the Garter, may soon be ruling in Gaza, at the orders of the Emperor Donald.

How can the nature sector respond to the genocide in Gaza? These are not my words. They appear in the subject box of an email which has been sent to members of the Wildlife and Countryside Link (WCL), though not, I think, by the WCL itself. It invites recipients to an ‘open forum for discussion and support’ on Zoom on 30 September. It seems that the Mammal Society, which supports pine martens, dormice etc, is involved. A sane answer to the subject box question would be a) that there is no genocide in Gaza and b) that the ‘nature sector’ has other duties. But the email tries to answer its own question: ‘At first glance the actions of Israel… are issues far outside the purview of any conservation or climate-focused organisation.

Daniel Kruger is a good and thoughtful man, whom I used to employ as a leader writer before he left for the higher calling of improving prisons. His choices in life have always been influenced by his sense of Christian purpose. That is what will have driven him to defect from the Tories to Reform. The trouble is that this sort of pilgrimage can lead to political misjudgments. There was a time, for instance, when Danny supported the leadership bid of Suella Braverman – a woman of blazing sincerity but not a good political navigator. Commentators are saying that Danny’s defection will make career-minded Tory MPs think they have a better future with Reform than with the Conservatives. That may be their calculation, but they should not base it on Danny’s example.

The current ‘Britain is on a knife edge’ mood is understandable. Our discontents are great and Sir Keir Starmer’s government is even more incompetent and divided than we critics expected. But do not forget how the British system works. We are not like France, paralysed because its executive president can, constitutionally, hold out until 2027, even though his governments last only for months. The tired phrase ‘overwhelming majority’ has meaning. Labour can overwhelm all parliamentary opposition. It may find it harder to overwhelm internal opposition, but an early general election remains most unlikely, since MPs do not demand an election if they think they will lose their seats.

A currently fashionable conservatism is militantly against Ukraine and, by more cautious implication, pro-Russia. We who disagree are, I quote Matthew Parris in these pages last week, ‘prey to the illusion that the second world war was a template for future conflict, and Hitler a template for Putin’. Others put it more unkindly, speaking of ‘Ukraine brain’ as a mental affliction among the Cold War generations. One should not project the entire second world war on to now, but some similarities with the 1930s are undeniable.

Successful political leaders hold in their minds some idea of what Mrs Thatcher called ‘Our People’. In this context, I do not mean the whole population of the country they seek to lead, or the core of the party they belong to. I mean that group of people with whose aspirations they most wish to identify. In making that identification, they combine direct self-interest – getting their floating vote – with a wider view about who are most important for the nation’s future prosperity and good order. In the Thatcher era, such people were the famous C2s, first-generation home-buyers, millions who could expect not only to earn but also to own. In Tony Blair’s time, the group was not so different, but a bit softer, as one expects when growth has seemed secure for many years.