In the latest instalment of the long-running series Irony is Dead (part 583), former Tory plotter turned Spectator editor Michael Gove has been appointed a judge for the Orwell Prize. For anyone wondering if there’s another Michael Gove currently stalking the corridors of public life, one committed to truth-telling a moral probity, the answer is no. It’s that one.
With its stated aim of “making political writing into an art”, The Orwell Prize is one of Britain’s most prestigious literary awards, and Gove, who served in the austerity government of David Cameron and George Osborne before helping to inflict the economic disaster of Brexit upon Britain, has been appointed chair of a panel judging reporting on homelessness. In other news, in the wilds of the American west, Wile E Coyote has been granted trusteeship of Arizona’s largest wild bird sanctuary.
Speaking of birds, George Orwell himself might well be turning in his grave like a rotisserie chicken. During their 14 years in office, in which Gove occupied eight government positions, the Conservatives saw rates of homelessness more than double. As well as missing their house-building targets by a distance of galaxies, the government also stalled on their promise to end no-fault evictions in the rental market. The Tories’ three-term reign of terror also saw a 144% rise of families living in temporary accommodation. The number of children residing in ad hoc digs rose by 120%.
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Before becoming Spectator editor in 2024, Gove wasn’t always the journalist’s friend, either. During his time in government, the 58-year-old was accused of restricting Freedom of Information requests, while his aides were said to have set up a Twitter account aimed at discrediting unfavoured members of the fourth estate. Wearing his reporter’s hat, in his write-up of an interview with Donald J Trump, in 2017, Gove neglected to inform readers of the Times that Rupert Murdoch was also present during the interlocution.
All of which reminds us of the famous words spoken by the late Tom Lehrer. “Political satire became obsolete when Henry Kissinger was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize,” he said, in 1973. More than half a century later, the elevation of a sharp-elbowed insider of dubious repute has dulled the lustre of an honourable prize.
