Weirdos and Misfits

In an earlier post we left our hero, Dominic Cummings (the Prime Minister’s Senior Advisor), encouraging “weirdos and misfits with odd skills”, among others. to apply to become Whitehall Government advisors and officials in order to break the mould of an established Civil Service stuck in its ways and staffed by people from particular educational backgrounds all trained to think along similar lines. Brilliance, originality and intellectual diversity are what are now needed by a new administration intent on dealing with “some profound problems at the core of how the British state makes decisions”. In his extended job description for these genius-class spads (special advisors) and civil servants, Cummings states

·       “I don’t want confident public school bluffers,” (Like his boss?)

·       “If you play office politics, you will be discovered and immediately binned.”

One early appointment of this type last month, Andrew Sabisky, has already been binned. He certainly had unconventional views; for instance, in the past he had advocated: enforced contraception to prevent the creation of a permanent underclass; giving children performance enhancing drugs, "probably worth a dead kid once a year"; discussing the relative IQs of different racial groups; and the merits of eugenics. His background checks were clearly inadequate and his appointment must have caused the Prime Minister considerable embarrassment when a journalist asked him if he shared Mr Sabisky‘s opinions. Prompted by this story, I want to take a brief look at IQ and eugenics

The arguments about IQ are well rehearsed. To do well on a typical IQ test you need to have sharp numerical skills, a way with words in your mother tongue, and a logical facility for analysing abstract concepts and patterns; no doubt these are sometimes useful attainments for everyday life but they offer a very narrow view of intelligence. Emotional intelligence, social and psychological intelligence, physical and spacial intelligence are also important, but they make no contribution to the number on the printout that is your IQ. Qualities like patience, perseverance, resilience, stamina, tolerance and many more contribute to success and survival. My anthropologist son has studied a community of hunter-gatherers in Tanzania. They are generally well-rounded human beings, sharp, humorous, sociable, polyglot and good with a bow and arrow, but it would be hard to imagine a test that could sensibly compare their “intelligence” with that of non-hunter-gatherers. Judging a human being and their worth to society by a simple number between 50 and 150 makes about as much sense as giving them a top job because they are quick at solving cryptic crosswords (although that skill might have helped you in Hut 8 at Bletchley Park during WW2).

The issue of eugenics has risen on the scale of ethical concern since the human genome was decoded two decades ago. (“Designer babies” is now the popular phrase for it in the Media.) At least we now know better than to try to identify a gene for this or a gene for that. Take for instance a simple feature like human height. It’s easily measured and unambiguous. Remarkably, it is now known that more than 600 genes contribute to it, some positively, some negatively, some in micrometres, some in millimetres, ignoring the effects of nurture such as diet, health and exercise.  But whatever intelligence is (other than the ability to achieve a certain numerical score on an IQ test), it’s certainly not as easily measured and unambiguous. While it is true that geneticists are getting better at identifying families of genes that work together to influence a particular trait and measuring their relative contributions, it is also true that a given gene may influence a spectrum of other characteristics, and if you engineer genes to produce a desired expression of one phenotype, you can’t know what its effects on other characteristics will be. There are many examples where our tinkering with the genes of domesticated animals over the centuries (that is to say. selective breeding) has led to undesirable and unforeseen results. Many dog varieties are known to suffer from its negative side effects; Labrador retrievers, for instance, bred for a placid temperament and trainability, often suffer from early-onset bone diseases such as hip dysplasia, in which the abnormal formation of the hip socket can cause crippling lameness and painful arthritis of the joints,. There is no doubt things can go wrong.

I am fascinated by the burgeoning science of genomics, its practical applications, and its implications for the future of the human race. If covid-19 doesn’t stay my hand, I want to discuss the subject in more detail in future posts.

Our Man in Japan

Some encouraging news yesterday from our son M in Japan (no connection with MI6 as far as I know). He teaches English in a small town on the northern island of Hokkaido, which was identified as the epicentre of the Japanese outbreak of covid-19 at the beginning of March with around 30 confirmed cases. The Government took prompt action and closed schools, sporting activities and any businesses that facilitated public gatherings. Everyone was told to stay indoors. emerging only for solitary exercise and shopping for essential supplies. Thanks to this prompt action and Japan's strong tradition of compliant social behaviour and respect for authority, the outbreak is now under control with a daily count of 1 or 2 new cases on the island. The schools have reopened today and M will back in the classroom again; meanwhile the Country is exercising vigilance against a second wave..

The ABC of Crises

The headlines have become monotonously obsessive in recent years.

        First a decade of Austerity

        Then four years of Brexit

        And now, for goodness knows how long, Coronavirus

What next? Division, as in the Divided Kingdom or Depression, as in the 1930s?  Leave your suggestions in the comments below and start preparing now!

What's in a name?

Here's some topical New Yorker humour



In the United Kingdom, Waldo's name is "Wally". Books often change their titles when they are republished overseas. One of my favourite examples is Alex Bellos's entertaining maths book Alex's Adventures in Numberland. On the apparent hypothesis that Americans are more familiar with Euclid (he of The Elements, all thirteen books) than Lewis Carroll,  Bellos's book was re-titled Here's Looking at Euclid across the Pond, with a second hook in the nod to Casablanca.

And here's a topical clue for socially-distancing cruciverbalists:

This pandemic emerged from a carnivorous explosion (11)

Cummings and Goings

Dominic Cummings is chief political advisor to the current British Prime Minister (PM), Boris Johnson - or Bojo to his adoring fans -  a tousled political bruiser, strong on charm and classical erudition but short on principles if they seem to block the way to power. Cummings is thought to have masterminded the recent election campaign that brought Johnson and his Conservative Government an unassailable overall majority of 80 in the House of Commons; “Let’s get Brexit done!” was the winning slogan for an electorate exhausted by three years of bitter and inconclusive squabbling that divided political parties and the Nation after the narrow referendum majority in favour of leaving the European Union (EU).

Political advisors are often regarded with suspicion and distaste by the upper echelons of the Whitehall Civil Service, who are traditionally cautious but usually clever and effective, their brief being to offer the elected ministers sound advice but above all to carry out their ministers’ policies efficiently even if they believe them to be misguided and not in the best interests of the Country. (The BBC TV series Yes Minister beautifully satirized this relationship.) Political advisors are in danger of undermining the civil servant’s role and countering their advice. Cummings has been demonized by sections of the media as a subversive eminence grise pulling the strings of government behind the scenes, a svengali whispering dangerous ideas in the Prime Minster’s ear.

There have been two senior ‘goings’ in the past fortnight. Sajid Javid, the Chancellor of the Exchequer -- he who collects our taxes, decides how to spent the proceeds and borrows the shortfall --  resigned during a Government reshuffle. He had been given the unpalatable ultimatum to sack his loyal advisors and bring his powerful department, The Treasury, under direct control of the PM’s team (coyly referred to as ‘Number 10’, the PM’s official residence in Downing Street). He has been replaced by Richi Sunak, a rapidly rising star with degrees from Oxford and the Stanford Business School, who is thought to be fiscally less conservative than Javid and less likely to oppose plans for greater spending (for example on the ridiculously expensive HS2 plan for a new faster rail link from London to Birmingham and beyond). The second departure was the Permanent Secretary to the Home Office, the overburdened ministry that deals with Law and Order, Immigration, Citizenship and Homeland Security, and that is heavily involved in the negotiations for a new relationship with the EU. He was offered a severance package to go quietly, but chose instead, against Civil Service convention, to go public with a stinging attack on Number 10 for briefing against him and more directly on the Home Secretary, Priti Patel, for her demanding style and bullying tactics. Questions have been asked about the role of the chief puppeteer in these shenanigans.

Cummings has an interesting blog where he thinks aloud fresh thoughts on radical ideas for changing how Government and the Civil Service work. Of course, radicals and radical ideas are anathema to much of the Establishment, a vague collective term for people who appear to run the country, and have a strong sense of entitlement and a devotion to the preservation of their species. Our two oldest Universities, lumped together as Oxbridge, are frequently implicated in this perpetuation of the status quo. Cummings himself has a first class degree in Ancient and Modern History from Oxford, where he was described as "fizzing with ideas, unconvinced by any received set of views about anything  … someone determined to bring down things that don’t work." His latest interesting post includes a recruiting call for new kinds of people to apply for jobs as government officials (members of the executive branch of the Civil Service, traditionally recruited from high-flying graduates of the top universities, who quickly become imbued with its long-established prevailing ethos). One of his list of seven invited categories was “weirdos and misfits with odd skills” and, as you may imagine, this one quickly caught media attention; however, as it turned out, it was not entirely tongue in cheek.

At last I have reached the prompt for the main point of this post, but I’ve already gone on too long. Stay tuned for the denouement.

The Case of the Missing Detective Stories

Last week I was sitting in the stock room chewing on a sandwich before starting my afternoon shift behind the till in the Oxfam Charity Bookshop in Stratford upon Avon. The room was surprisingly tidy. The usual chaotic piles of recently-donated books had already been sorted, priced, cleaned and put away on the shelves in their respective categories. A large gleaming volume still on the sorting table caught my eye.

(Click on the images to enlarge them.)

It was an omnibus edition of every Sherlock Holmes story that Conan Doyle had ever written, beautifully bound and decorated with gold leaf on the covers and sides. Having always has a soft spot for the Baker Street detective, I decided to consult the bookshop manager about the price. My family has justifiably complained about my bibliophilia, pointing out the serried rows of still-unread books on our bookshelves, but I have barely scratched the surface of Conan Doyle’s oeuvre and this was too good an opportunity to miss, even if I wouldn’t be able to smuggle it indoors concealed in my jacket pocket.

Further investigation showed it was a limited edition and therefore of possible antiquarian value, even perhaps a welcome legacy for one of our children. I can imagine the following exchange between the protagonists:

Dr Watson: Let me present you with this magnificent tribute to your career, Holmes. I have just acquired it from a bookseller in Charing Cross Road. It’s a complete collection of your famous cases.

Sherlock Holmes: Interesting Watson, set it on thi table next to me.

Dr Watson: Careful Holmes! You’ve split your port on it. Believe me, it set me back a pretty penny.

Sherlock Holmes:  I think you may have been taken for a ride, Watson. it has been rendered worthless, vandalized by a previous owner.

Dr Watson: My Goodness, you are right Holmes. Over 600 pages have been cut out. It’s hollow.  How did you know?

Sherlock Holmes:  Elementary my dear Watson. A tome of such dimensions, over a foot long, 9 inches wide and 4 inches thick, would weigh some eight or nine pounds. From your muscle movements, dexterity and facial expression, it was obvious you were handling a far lighter object, and I concluded at once that a previous owner must have hollowed it out to form a safe hiding place in his library, perhaps to protect the family jewels against burglary or to conceal a supply of spirits kept there to indulge a secret addiction.

Now here’s a challenge: Write an account of a new Sherlock Holmes adventure in which the criminal is uncovered and his fate sealed by the discovery of a hollowed-out book.