and finally A tricky case of mistaken identity


Chris Proctor wonders what is in a name


O


ver the summer, as an antidote to Donald, I took to re-reading Thoreau’s Walden. All was going well in the woods until I happened across his claim that we need only read


one newspaper in our lives and that’s it. We’ve done media. “I never read any memorable news in a newspaper.


If we read of one man robbed, or murdered, or killed by accident, or one house burned, or one vessel wrecked, or one steamboat blown up, or one cow run over on the Western Railroad, or one mad dog killed – we need never read of another. One is enough. If you are acquainted with the principle, what do you care for a myriad instances and applications?’ So every media report is the same, with the


exception of changed names. X becomes prime minister rather than Y. A is arrested rather then B. It’s an appalling thought for our trade, but I can’t help but think it could be comforting. I’m thinking of producing a newspaper that I can


read every morning to brighten my day. I don’t think I’ll ever tire of an edition reporting Thatcher being forced out of office, Obama’s election, a euro being worth 60p, an article with my byline and Everton winning at Anfield. Besides, I’ve never been a great one for remembering names, to the extent that I frequently call my daughter Jess “Kate” and my daughter Kate “Jess”. And I call everyone I meet “mate” as I don’t recall their names. This has not always been to my advantage, professionally speaking. I once went for an interview to edit a parliamentary


magazine. All was going well as I aired my experience and fictitious merits to a panel of MPs until one asked if I subscribed to the Pitcom Journal. I frowned and confessed I’d never heard of it. “What’s the Pitcom Journal?” I asked. “It’s the magazine you are being interviewed


to edit.” I tried to retrieve the situation by claiming that I


was a big fan but the moment, like the job, was gone. And I was once interviewing a transport minister,


who, to put her at ease, I referred to, frequently and chummily, as Angela. She waited until I was packing


up my non-functioning tape recorder before she told me her name was Maria. Her twin sister was Angela, she said. Angela Eagle. She offered to arrange a meeting where I could speak to her if I wanted. I got a bit huffy and said I didn’t. One was enough. Also, I was reporting on a union conference some


years ago, keying into my laptop to save time. Instead of even trying with names, I jotted down a characteristic and a quote, thinking I could get the name from a delegate list later. The system worked swimmingly until an executive council member came over to see I’d got the main points of a speech he’d made. Happily I remembered I had actually written something, rather than nodding off when he spoke, and flicked back willingly through my pages to his contribution. The quote was fine. But he was less impressed that in place of “Comrade Jenkins”, the words were attributed to “fat bloke, red hair”. Possibly even worse was at a reception at the


British Library where strong drink was added to my shortcomings vis-à-vis name recollection. I found myself chatting to a familiar face and remarked that he was looking well. Very nice tan, I told him. It appeared he had been to the Caribbean watching cricket. We got on very well, chatting easily although I wouldn’t know one end of a cricket stick from the other. Finally I confessed that although we were undoubtedly mates, I couldn’t actually recall where I knew him from. What did he do? “Retired,” he told me. “I used to be the prime minister.” This was not my fault, actually. It turned out to


be John Major, and he was much taller than he should have been. As a rule, people you see on the telly are shorter when you meet them in real life. If he’s going to go round being taller, it’s his look out.


All in all, names have been a setback in my chosen career. And, with Thoreau, I think they’re unnecessary in conscientious reportage. If you read “some Tory said sorting out Brexit’s a breeze and I like cutting public spending”, it doesn’t matter which one said it, does it?


26 | theJournalist


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