Most of my friends are, like me, founder members of the wet liberals' party that was born in the 1960s. So when they ask me, "Now that you've retired from Fleet Street, what papers do you read?" I'm always rather embarrassed, as my answer is: "The two I most often read are the Guardian [nods of approval] and, er, the Daily Mail" [cries of "oh no!"]. So far my perverse behaviour has been kept private, but now I feel it's time to reveal all.
I have been two-timing in this way for some years. Initially, I offered a series of feeble excuses. One was that now that I have to pay my own newspaper bill, I have to limit my purchases (but why does one of them have to be the despised Mail?). Another was to blame my wife: she reads the Mail because its tabloid size is easier to fit on to the breakfast table; I only glance at it (but now there are serious tabloids). Another defence I have used is that I needed to see what "the enemy" was doing and to get an early warning of what, on social issues, the government was likely to do next. (This is still not a bad argument). But finally I have to admit that I actually enjoy and admire some parts of the Mail. I think it is superb at covering "non-political" big news stories. More heretically, I believe that on the key topic of immigration, I need to follow both papers in order to get anywhere near the full and fair account I am seeking.
To illustrate this I have skimmed through issues of the two papers on a day chosen at random—10th January. The two front pages played to the papers' contrasting strengths. The Guardian's headline was "Search for Middle East cash to rescue Northern Rock"—a real scoop on a serious subject. The Mail led on a story that every newspaper had—the discovery of more than 100 dead and starving horses on a farm in Buckinghamshire—but it projected it brilliantly, addressing, and answering, questions in the minds of what we hacks call "ordinary people." Why did the farmer have so many horses? Why didn't he bother looking after them? How did he get away with it for so long? And so on. I learned a lot about the vigorous but hidden trade in British horsemeat from the Mail. Like a pure Guardian reader, I often rant against the slanting of many Mail stories, but when it comes to gathering straight information on a straight news story, it is hard to beat the Mail machine.
Of course, there is nothing surprising about different newspapers having different strengths and weaknesses. On this particular occasion, I thought the Guardian scored twice on the other big story of the day—Hillary Clinton's surprise victory in New Hampshire. First, it had a piece from Martin Kettle saying the press should admit how badly it got its predictions wrong. This is not the kind of piece you are likely to find in the Mail, which never voluntarily admits to any error or weakness. Second, the Guardian had a topical feature by Germaine Greer inspired by Hillary's vote-winning tears. This is the kind of instant, opinionated, big-name feature idea that is actually a hallmark of the Mail. Despite their open hostility, the two newspapers occasionally reveal a grudging secret admiration for each other. For example, at the moment the Mail is copying the Guardian's giant picture idea and, unaccountably, the Guardian's irritating habit of highlighting numbers in news stories.
On the other hand, there were stories in the issue in question that are pure Mail. One talked of a drug that can reverse the symptoms of Alzheimer's "in minutes." The other was a feature which revealed that "the world of twitchers (birdwatchers) is full of dishonesty, bitter rivalry… and dark threats."
But my serious point was underlined by a story in the Mail headlined "Immigrant pupil numbers rise 50pc in just two years" with consequent problems for teachers and other pupils. Now this would probably be dismissed by Guardian loyalists as yet another Mail story knocking immigrants. But is it true? If it is, I for one wanted to know. Its provenance was not entirely clear. The Mail said the figures were "based on analysis of GCSE league tables" and in the next paragraph quoted a spokesman for the National Association of Head Teachers. Did the association do the analysis?
The Guardian didn't help me because it didn't carry the story. Perhaps it didn't know about it. Perhaps it had checked it and found it didn't stand up. Or—and this is my worry—it just didn't want to run a negative story about immigrants.
Coverage of this issue is becoming increasingly polarised. Two equally dubious caricatures are being presented: one depicts immigrants as scroungers, criminals and a burden on public services; the other depicts them as vigorous, hardworking individuals who are good for Britain but ill paid, ill treated and reviled for their pains. As ever, the truth is more complicated. But I confess I am not confident that the Guardian—the best paper I never worked for—gives me the full picture, so I read the Mail to alert me to potential gaps in this continuing story.
Some people might say that this so-called admission of guilt has transformed itself into an attempt at self-justification. It's true. I confess it.
