Skip to content
Eight chief constables either under disciplinary action or awaiting its result. Out of forty-three forces. This Author pauses, sets down her toast, and wonders whether the constabulary of the Southern Kingdom is policing the nation or merely policing itself. On a Sunday when one might have hoped for a little calm, the affairs of the realm have arrived with characteristic impertinence.
Lord Blunkett – a man who once held the keys to the Office of Home Affairs himself – has co-authored a report declaring that police leadership requires nothing less than a “fundamental overhaul” and an “ethical reset.” Not one of the forty-three forces in the Southern Kingdom and the Principality was graded outstanding for leadership. Almost a third were found wanting. Two were deemed outright inadequate. One rather hopes the officers in question are not investigating their own inadequacy, for that particular inquiry would take some time. The report publishes Monday, and This Author suspects the Metropolitan Constabulary will not be pinning it to the noticeboard with any great enthusiasm.
To the matter of Viscount Farage, who continues to accumulate undeclared benefits with the cheerful abandon of a man who has never encountered a parliamentary register in his life. The Sunday Times now reports that one George Cottrell – a cryptocurrency entrepreneur and convicted wire fraudster of eight months’ acquaintance with an American gaol – provided Viscount Farage with security staff, social media operatives, and the use of a property conveniently adjacent to the Palace itself. None of it, apparently, required declaration, because none of it was, strictly speaking, political. One admires the audacity of that argument almost as much as one deplores the logic.
This Author notes that Viscount Farage is already facing a parliamentary probe over a £5 million gift from a billionaire donor, also not registered. At what point does a pattern become a habit, and a habit become simply a lifestyle? The Reform Society‘s leader maintains all rules were followed. His spokesman denies any wrongdoing. The probe continues. The tot grows longer.
Across the ocean in Mexico City, Thomas Tuchel has graciously announced that the Mexican populace has, thus far, refrained from depriving his squad of sleep. High praise indeed. The Southern Kingdom‘s footballers face the World Cup co-hosts in the last sixteen tonight – or rather, Monday at one in the morning by the Capital‘s clock – under the watchful gaze of the National Guard, riot police, and barriers erected specifically to discourage enthusiastic local fans from gathering outside England’s hotel. Ecuador had previously lodged a noise complaint with Football’s Grand Governing Body after suffering a night of loudspeakers, motorbikes, and horns. Thomas Tuchel reports the atmosphere has been “nicer than expected.” One hopes the scoreline is equally pleasant, though history counsels a degree of caution where the Southern Kingdom and tournaments are concerned.
Meanwhile, the National Health Society has unveiled its latest attempt to modernise the art of falling ill. An artificial intelligence triage tool, to be embedded within the National Health Society‘s own app, will henceforth ask patients a series of questions before directing them to a doctor, an apothecary, the hospital, or – most economically – simply home with a glass of water and the suggestion that they rest. A trial in Sussex produced a twenty-nine percent reduction in telephone queues, which is either a triumph of technology or a testament to how many people were previously telephoning simply out of habit. Health Secretary Health Secretary Murray was swift to clarify that no machine will ultimately decide whether one sees a doctor. The machine will merely, one gathers, decide everything leading up to that point. Over two hundred thousand patients will experience this modernisation within the year, with full rollout promised by April 2028 as part of a ten-billion-pound overhaul of the National Health Society‘s technology. This Author wishes the patients well, and the algorithm patience.
And then there is the matter of the Duke of Sussex, who arrives in the Capital next week without the Duchess of Sussex and their two children – a revision to the original plan that came about, one understands, when it was confirmed that taxpayer-funded police security would not be forthcoming for the family. The Duchess of Sussex, young Archie, and Lilibet will remain in the American Colonies for the London portion of proceedings, though they may yet join the Duke in Birmingham later in the week for the Invictus Games.
What makes this particularly poignant, Gentle Reader, is the question of His Majesty the King and his grandchildren. The two children, aged seven and five, have not been seen by their grandfather in four years. Whether a meeting will now take place under the revised arrangements remains uncertain. The Palace declines to comment on private family matters, which is the royal household’s way of saying rather a great deal while appearing to say nothing at all. This Author does not press. But she does note that four years is rather a long time, by any accounting.
I am, as ever, your most devoted observer – Lady Whistledown.