Stephen Glover

I must confess that I have not watched the development of Ofcom with the care I should have. In the distance I heard the voices of colleagues muttering that the new media regulator would interfere in the freedom of the press, but I chose not to listen. I thought that Ofcom, as the successor of the Independent Television Commission, the Radio Authority, the Broadcasting Standards Commission, Oftel and the Radio Communications Agency, would concern itself with issues which do not on the whole concern the rest of us very much. Dear reader, I have let you down. Ofcom opened for business on 29 December with a spanking new office and an enormous staff.

Within the next few weeks Lord Hutton will publish his inquiry. None of us can know where, if anywhere, his axe will fall. Geoff Hoon, the Defence Secretary, may be feeling his neck a little anxiously. So too will Andrew Gilligan, the BBC reporter whose story about Downing Street ‘sexing up’ the September 2002 dossier lies at the very centre of this drama. It is certain that the Hutton report will be at least mildly critical of Mr Gilligan. He has himself admitted, or almost admitted, to having made some errors. He was unwise to suggest on the Today programme on 29 May — since he had no proof — that the government inserted into the September dossier its claim about Iraqi weapons of mass destruction being deployable in 45 minutes while knowing it to be false.

There seems scarcely to be a person alive who does not hope to acquire ' or know someone who hopes to acquire ' the Telegraph group in the coming year. The names of former Daily Telegraph editors and managing directors, and even one or two still on the payroll, are associated with this or that possible bid. The Barclay brothers, who own the Scotsman, are said to be making inquiries. The interest of the Daily Mail and General Trust and of Richard Desmond, owner of the Express group, is, of course, already well known. American publishers are being cited, though none has so far said that it will make a bid. What this tells us is that the Telegraph group is a highly desirable property. It was not always so.

Jane Root, the controller of BBC 2, has decided to axe the award- winning current affairs programme Correspondent. Thirty years ago there were a number of such programmes on the BBC, and the disappearance of one of them would scarcely have been noticed. But in Greg Dyke’s increasingly dumbed-down BBC, Correspondent is probably unique, and so its passing is of some significance. In consigning it to his-tory Ms Root reveals a great deal about herself. According to her, the programme’s title conjures up visions of ‘an Eton- educated guy in a white linen suit’. It will be replaced by an international current affairs series called This World which, we can be certain, will be entirely free of Old Etonians and linen suits.

As the days pass, more and more people are assuming that Hollinger International will be forced to sell the Daily Telegraph, the Sunday Telegraph and The Spectator. Of the home-grown suitors, the favourite remains the pornographer, Richard Desmond, owner of Express Newspapers. Daily Mail and General Trust (DMGT) is another potential bidder. Let me declare an interest. Although I write a column for the Daily Mail, I would be perfectly happy if a benign foreign publisher such as the Washington Post group acquired the Telegraph newspapers. My aversion to Richard Desmond is based on this simple fact ' that he has made his fortune partly out of publishing hard-core pornography. Last week my colleague Matthew Parris disclosed that he is 'rather relaxed about pornography'.

First the Independent goes tabloid, now the Times follows suit, though both papers are still available in broadsheet form. The Daily Telegraph and the Guardian may not far be behind. What is behind this revolution? There has been a decline in quality newspaper sales over the past couple of years, and publishers have increasingly felt that some sort of shake-up was necessary to revive the market. The Independent was in a particular trough, with sales at less than half the level of the early Nineties, and needed to do something dramatic. It has certainly succeeded. Overall sales have gone up, and in some areas the paper’s tabloid version is outselling the broadsheet one. The Times evidently felt it was in danger of missing out.

Most people are assuming that Conrad Black will lose control of the Daily Telegraph, the Sunday Telegraph and The Spectator. He has been forced to resign as chief executive officer of the New York listed company Hollinger International, which owns these titles in addition to the Jerusalem Post and Chicago Sun-Times. Lord Black and fellow executives face probable investigation by the Securities and Exchange Commission, the American financial regulator. Hollinger has admitted that a total of $32.15 million in so-called ‘non-competition payments’ was made to Lord Black and senior colleagues without the authorisation of the audit committee or the full board. Lord Black has personally agreed to pay back more than $7 million to shareholders.

Earlier this week my dear friend the writer William Shawcross left a message on my answerphone. I am sure he will not mind if I repeat it. ‘Hi, Stephen, it’s William, your old friend. How are you? I have just heard some wonderful rumour today that you are going to use your entire column to denounce Associated Newspapers for its contemptible torture of both the Prince of Wales and George Smith. If this is true, I am so pleased. Congratulations, old bean.’ This message, it can be fairly said, is delivered in tones of jocular irony. Nor do I think that Boris Johnson, the editor of this magazine, will mind if I repeat what he said to me on the same subject.

If the Daily Mirror reported the Second Coming, would anyone believe it? Probably not. There is a general view in polite society that the newspaper and its editor, Piers Morgan, are not entirely to be trusted. This may be an opinion based on prejudice, or it may have its roots in solid fact. This week the Mirror has been serialising the new book by Paul Burrell, former butler to Diana, Princess of Wales. My impression is that many people are not taking its revelations completely seriously, particularly Mr Burrell’s claim that ten months before she died Diana predicted the circumstances of her demise. An allegation which might have rocked the nation had it first appeared in the Guardian or the Times has had a limited effect.

Nigel Dempster was the most famous print journalist of modern times, even though he seldom appeared on television. I remember his coming down to Oxford in the early Seventies. A group of admirers lured him to the Saraceno restaurant in Magdalen Street. Foremost among them was Tina Brown, already setting her compass in the direction of Fleet Street. Everyone was entranced by Nigel. There was scarcely anyone in the world whom a group of undergraduates would rather have met. Last week Nigel left the Daily Mail after 30 years. He was a raffish and glamorous poacher who gradually turned into a grand gamekeeper. To start with, he saw much to mock in the ways of the aristocracy. As time went on, he found these people less risible, and grew to like them.

The merger of Carlton and Granada may seem a matter of little importance. Who cares if two ITV companies, neither of which any longer produces very distinguished programmes, should come together? But the development is in fact of some interest because it may well lead to an acquisition by an American behemoth of the new company, which will represent almost the whole of ITV. By themselves Carlton and Granada were too small and too unprofitable to tempt the likes of Viacom. The merged £4 billion company, once it has accomplished its cost savings, may be an alluring prize, Twenty-five years ago, the 15-odd companies which then comprised ITV attracted some 50 per cent of television viewers.

It strikes me, as I follow the Hutton inquiry, that almost any human activity can be made to appear questionable, even dodgy. I think of my – not untypical – hurried departure for London yesterday morning. Already late, I filled the dog's water bowl directly from a jug, though I knew it needed washing out; threw a bank statement into the bin unopened; ate half a chocolate bar left by one of my sons on the kitchen table; and induced the taxi driver to break the speed limit as we raced to the railway station, where I just caught my train, and thereby accomplished my mission.

Last Saturday the Times raised its cover price to 90 pence, which is what the Daily Telegraph sells for on that day. On Monday it went up to 50 pence, pricing the paper at only 5 pence less than the Guardian and Telegraph. Thus ends the price war between quality newspapers which began ten years ago almost to the day, on 6 September 1993. At that time Rupert Murdoch did something that most people thought was mad. He reduced the price of the Times from 45 pence to 30 pence. The general view was that buyers of quality papers did not care overmuch about the price they paid. Writing in the London Evening Standard, where this column then resided, I doubted that the price cut would lead to an increase in sales. How wrong I was.

What is the view of the Andrew Gilligan affair at the Frog and Firkin? It is some time since I have been down to the Frog, but I feel I know its ways so well that I can be pretty sure what they are thinking. Most of its denizens are stuck somewhere between boredom and bewilderment. They feel as though they have been asked to take a paper in astrophysics with half an hour's preparation on the subject and the aid of a blunt pencil. Of course, there will be some who believe they understand the whole thing perfectly. The landlord, who happens to be a Labour councillor, is certain that the BBC and Mr Andrew Gilligan are gravely at fault, and looks forward to the day when Alastair Campbell is raised to the peerage.