BRITAIN'S EDITOR NO. 1

Lake Wakatip Mail, Issue 4327, 17 August 1937, Page 7

BRITAIN'S EDITOR NO. 1

MR GEOFFREY DAWSON OF ' THE TIMES' CLOAK OF ANONYMITY If it were possible to rank public men like lawn tennis players, Mr Geoffrey Dawson, editor of ‘ The Times,’ would be well up in the list of England’s most important men, writes Peter Lyne in the ‘ Christian Science Monitor.’ He is placed in the first 1U by one well-informed observer of European affairs. But it is unusually difficult to assess Mr Dawson’s standing because his work is all done behind the scenes; he is hidden by a cloak of anonymity. Unlike the producer of a play, he does not even have his name on the programme. He is far too shy ever to take a bow before the curtain. His name and face are practically unknown to the public. In fact, he is almost a recluse. Newspaper men are seldom tonguetied. Whenever you meet them you hear them talking about each other and themselves. But in Fleet street and its environs there is silence about Britain’s No. 1 editor. He is seldom seen by fellow editors. There are no anecdotes of him going the round. Search where you will in every nook and cranny of the Press Club and reference libraries, there is little mention of him. He has few close friends; they are unenlightening about him. Yet here is a man who holds a unique position in journalism. He is one of the first to be in touch with the Prime Minister in such a crisis as that which led to the abdication of Edward VIII. There is a saying, indeed, that the British Government is as interested in what ‘ The Times ’ thinks of the situaton as ‘ The Times ’ is in what the Government thinks. In its early days ‘ The Times ’ earned the title of “ The Thunderer ” by reason of its forthright expressions on public affairs. So Mr Dawson might reasonably be called “ Thunderer ” No, I. Actually he has none of the characteristics of a thunderer. Mr Dawson is clean-shaven, small, with nothing striking about his appearance. in character he might be representative of that small cross-section of English people which used virtually to be England. He might have been a country squire—they were not all burly and red-faced—going to the little village church on Sunday with the tenants doffing their hats or curtsying to him and his family—a scene such as that so well depicted in the film version of ‘ Little Lord Fauntleroy.’ His education at Eton and Oxford was well in keeping with this tradition. 'lt is said that his heart is in the college clois- 1 ters of Oxford, where he is a Fellow of All Souls. But wherever his heart may be, he has successfully filled the editorial chair in Printing House Square for a total of 20 years, with a break between 1919 and 1923. ‘ The Times ’ building is an old-fashjoned rabbitwarren of a place and visitors sometimes wonder how they ever produce a newspaper at all. Mr Dawson’s room is medium-sized, with large desk, windows overlooking the square, pictures of past editors, in short a typical working journalist’s office. There are books, of course, but Mr Dawson is not a great reader. One of his favourite volumes is F. S. Oliver’s ‘ Ordeal of Battle, a political treaties on the World War. He seldom writes anything except a leading article. India is one of his special topics. No fluent gush of words flows into dictaphone or stenographer’s notebook. He writes slowly and laboriously with a pencil and with much crossing out and correcting. But, then, most journalists recognise that easy writing often makes hard reading. It is sometimes mistakenly supposed that ‘ The Times ’ is a Government organ. Actually Mr Dawson is one of the very few independent editors left in British journalism. In practice he is harnessed to an editorial committee, but not in the same way that other editors are kept on the lead by proprietors in search of profits, in fear of advertisers, and committed to political slogans. Although it is an upholder of tradition and pursues what might be called a moderate conservatism, ‘ The Times ’ often surprises its own readers with its liberal views. It tends to support the Administration of the day and to oppose the Government only in extreme cases. Its modest circulation, just over 190,000, is no indication of its great influence. It is essentially a haunter of exalted places. There are people who do not believe a news item is true until they have seen it in ‘ The Times.’ Occasionally they have to wait a day or so, for accuracy is more important than speed in Printing House Square. / The Times,’ however, gets its share of scoops; they are usually carefully planned affairs or the result of the exceptional contacts of its staff. The sieve for straining off inaccuracies must have about the finest mesh ever devised by a newspaper. A feature of its foreign news service is that it has no correspondent in Moscow. This is due to the difficulty in getting uncensored news out of Russia. So a correspondent in neighbouring Riga covers the Soviet. ‘The Times’ is a severe critic of Bolshevism. It has a quite frightening standard of dignity. Kurt von Stutterheim, after more than 10 years 'in London as correspondent of the ‘ Berliner Tageblatt,’ in his book, ‘ The Press in England,’ ”. . . ‘The Times’ . . . is something more than a paper and much more than a capitalist undertaking; it is an institution for the safeguarding of the public interests of England.’; It is not altogether surprising that the staff of 1 The Times ’ take themselves a little seriously. Sitting next , them at a conference, one almost feels them writing words of great weight and wisdom. They do not have to know any of the tricks of “ jazzing up ” , stories. ‘ The Times ’ records happenings iu chronological order. It frowns on any attempt to spoon-feed its read- - ers. It is read mostly iu the comparative comfort of first class railway carriages, in roomy limousines, in easy 1 chairs, in clubs after lunch, and in ' well-to-do homes in the evenings. Many people find ‘ The Times ’ heavy 1 reading. But it is by no nioans devoid of humour. Mr Ralph D. Blumcufeld. who came from the United States to j bo one of the leading figures iu Fleet '

Street, says in his book, ‘ The Press in ■ My Time ’ : “ I think Mr Dawson often casts long glances at the ‘ nationals and sighs at the office tradition which keeps his respectable old ‘ Times within its one-acre paddock. It would bo fun just to gallop the old war-horse over the sticks as they do every night in the ‘ Mail ’ and ‘ Express.’ ” A popular feature of ‘ The Time's ’ is the Agony Column. It figures on page 1, and consists of odds and ends ot personal wants and information. It lias earned its name from its many patheticappeals. A number of romances appear to be carried on through this medium. Some sceptical people like to think that I this kind of message is sent between j crooks making a date for a burglary. Messages in code are regarded as even ■ more suspicious. Most of the readers 1 of this column, however, prefer to acI cept the declarations of affection ai their face value and follow them with considerable interest, ing about a dozen people, in front of i the rostrum rise the numbered seats 'in which the buyers sit comfortably . smoking, and between them and the rostrum are a pair of high-speed hydraulic lifts, directly connecting with the basement and the ground floor. The lifts are loaded with samples of the consignments for sale, and the samples are plainly seen from any part of the admirably arranged room. The moment a lot is sold the lift containing it is lowered and the other lift .rises and shows the next sample, so there is practically a continuous sale And there is no reserve. The swiftness of sale is astonishing. 1 tried to calculate the speed, says a writer. At one time the auctioneer’s hammer seemed to rival an electric drill; it was not quite that, of course, but as a fact a sample is loaded on the lift at the ground floor, raised to the auction room, the bidding taken, consignment sold, sample lowered, and dealings begun in the next lot—at an average speed of less than eight seconds. Let America lift her hat to that And it is all done with truly British lack of fuss. There is no shouting, no excitement. The London Fruit Exchange gets through its enormous business very quietly. “ AGONY.” Here are two examples of the very mixed bag which the Agony Column provides:— To the motorist who might have run over me in the King’s road on Sunday evening.—Thank you. and— Fire Walking.—lndian professional fire walker claims to take barefooted amateurs over red-hot embers with complete immunity from injury. Volunteers are required to assist investigators. . . . Those chosen will “ walk ” entirely at own risk. Anonymity is a strict rule for stall 1 writers of ‘ The Times.’ In certain cases a name becomes common knowledge, although it is still never printed This was the case with Arthur B. Walkley, famous dramatic critic. At tin present time there is Mr Bernard Dai win, golf correspondent, who is internationally famous both as a golfer, with many past achievements to his credit, and as a writer with a flair for Dickensian quotations. Such is his skill in his weekly column on golf that many are his devoted readers who probably do not know the difference between a niblick and a No. 1 iron. He is most entertaining when he is writing—anony-mously—-about his own matches in a championship. There is nothing anonymous, however, about Letters to ‘ The Times.’ which are another special feature of this paper. On some mornings it positively bristles with prominent names. Some gibe at ‘ The Times ’ for getting so much free copy, but the fact is that practically everyone of importance in England who wants to say anything recognises it as the best medium of expression. Ownership of ‘ The Times ’ is considered to be so nationally important a matter that shares cannot be transferred without the sanction of a committee consisting of five ex officio members—the Lord Chief Justice of England, the Warden of All Souls’ College, Oxford, the president of the Royal Society, the president of the Institute of Chartered Accountants, and the governor of the Bank of England. This safeguard was decided on following reorganisation of the publishing company after Lord Northclifte’s passing in 1922. Mr John Walter, great-great-grandson of the founder of the paper in 1785, and Major the Hon. John Jacob Astor became chief shareholders. Major Astor has since become chairman of the company. Turning finally to a thumb-nail summary of Mr Dawson’s career, he entered the Colonial Office in 1898. From 1901-06 he was private secretary to Lord Milner, who is said to have moulded his character He was one of a brilliant set of young men, nicknamed the “ kindergarten,” whom Lord Milner took to South Africa after the Boer War. Others were the present Lord Lothian, Lord Tweedsmuir, and Sir Patrick Duncan, who was recently made Governor-General of South Africa. Subsequently Mr Dawson became editor of the ‘ Johannesburg Star,’ secretary of thp Rhodes Trust, and one of the Rhodes Trustees. In 1912 he sueceeded George Buckle as editor of 4 The Times. ’