Not Nutt

What a day. I had hoped to write a long, thoughtful post on the subject of emigration, pen a few words on the Stanley Spencer paintings from Burghclere, now in Somerset House and soon to go on tour (see it), and the movingly old-fashioned 1956 BBC TV programme that accompanies it, in which Spencer himself appears) - and maybe think in more depth about the Duggan inquest and its implications. Perhaps I might also have tried another disquisition on the distinction between risking your mind taking drugs, because you are a frivolous ingrate,  and  the more calculated risks you must take in life,  which make you a better person.

 

But as my train trundled through the Thames Valley , passing glittering floods and wintry hills, and as  I ploughed through my pile of newspapers, my silenced telephone began to throb. Leaving the quiet carriage, I took the call.

 

Would I take part in a discussion of cannabis laws with Professor David Nutt on Sky TV? But of course. Delighted. When and where? All fixed. I mentally rearranged my day. I did a bit of work on Professor Nutt, and on the subject of cannabis strength which I knew would come up. The TV station involved had a film about cannabis farmers and the high-strength dope they produce.

 

As I sat at my London desk a little later,  a text message arrived. There was something about the wording that seemed a little, well, shamefaced to me. ‘Unfortunately’ and ‘Bad news’ featured in it. Anyway, why a text and not a call? They were ‘unable’ to have me on. Why? I was able to get there. Their building hadn’t ( so far as I could establish) fallen down or been flooded with hot soup. Their satellites were still flying above the earth.

 

A few pointed questions elicited the answer that Professor Nutt wasn’t coming on with me. The exact reason wasn’t available. Indeed, a body called ‘his people’ were blamed for this, rather than the sainted Professor. Well, if I had any ‘people’, which I don’t, I wouldn’t let them turn down TV appearances on my behalf, but never mind.

 

Why wouldn’t he come? Not clear. I, and you, may suspect what we wish. But we do not know and cannot say.  It’s my view he didn’t come very well out of our last broadcast confrontation, a long-ago clash on a bizarre report claiming ( as always ) that the illegal drugs aren’t as bad as we think. The core of the matter, with links to older material, is summed up here http://hitchensblog.mailonsunday.co.uk/2011/07/i-am-a-scientist-you-will-obey-professor-nutt-speaks-again.html

 

So, the match was off.  I made it plain that I thought this daft, and was going to write about it. Then I was offered the chance of going on *before* a colleague of Professor Nutt, Professor Val Curran. I said that surely , since she would be the one making the proposition (weaker drug laws), I should go on afterwards, if we couldn’t go on at the same time. The normal rule of debate is, after all,  that opposition replies to proposition.

 

In the end, we were back, almost,  to square one. I was finally invited to go head-to-head against Professor Curran on the Adam Boulton programme at about 1.30 pm today.

 

I haven’t seen a recording of the event, so I can only say that I felt that I was interrupted quite a lot, usually in the middle of making a point. I hope I managed to get that point across even so.  Sometimes these impressions are false, or exaggerated by selective memory. Sometimes they’re not. Anyway, there it is. But it’s a sort of answer to those who say, quite frequently, on Twitter and elsewhere, that they long to see an argument between me and Professor Nutt. So do I. And it’s not my fault that there wasn’t one today.

 

 

I was just about to write about this when Mehdi Hasan (the one who asked to write for the Daily Mail, then violently attacked that paper on Question Time) , whose way with words I have often documented here (for example http://hitchensblog.mailonsunday.co.uk/2012/12/mehdi-hasan-the-pcc-and-me.html , with links contained in it),  chose to make an unprovoked attack on me on Twitter, to which I then had to respond. The nerve of it.