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An Enduring and Erudite Court Jester in Britain An Enduring and Erudite Court Jester in Britain
(about 17 hours later)
LONDON — Ian Hislop looks mild and soft, rather like a pudding, with a nascent double-chin and not much hair. He is polite, soft-spoken and was, appropriately enough, born in the district of Swansea, Wales, called Mumbles. LONDON — IAN HISLOP looks mild and soft, rather like a pudding. He is polite, soft-spoken and was, appropriately enough, born in the district of Swansea, Wales, called Mumbles.
Appearances aside, Mr. Hislop is the much-feared czar of Private Eye, Britain’s clubby satirical and investigative magazine, and probably wields as much power, if he chooses, as any media boss in Britain.Appearances aside, Mr. Hislop is the much-feared czar of Private Eye, Britain’s clubby satirical and investigative magazine, and probably wields as much power, if he chooses, as any media boss in Britain.
The whole thing astounds him, of course. Like a good British man of a certain educated class, Mr. Hislop, 55, is absurdly self-deprecating, treating his accomplishments as some happy and wholly undeserved accident arranged as yet another joke by a self-amused deity.The whole thing astounds him, of course. Like a good British man of a certain educated class, Mr. Hislop, 55, is absurdly self-deprecating, treating his accomplishments as some happy and wholly undeserved accident arranged as yet another joke by a self-amused deity.
He joined Private Eye directly from Oxford, where he read English literature, edited a student magazine called “Passing Wind” and wrote comedy revues. He became editor of Private Eye nearly 30 years ago, taking over from Richard Ingrams, who shaped the magazine as the place where the British elite told tales on one another, often getting sued in the process, and poked fun at everyone else. He joined Private Eye directly from Oxford, where he read English literature, edited a student magazine called Passing Wind and wrote comedy revues. He became editor of Private Eye nearly 30 years ago, taking over from Richard Ingrams, who shaped the magazine as the place where the British elite told tales on one another, often getting sued in the process, and poked fun at everyone else.
“I just knew I wanted to do what I’d been getting away with at university — which was reading, writing about it, putting on stupid revues and working for student magazines,” Mr. Hislop said in an interview in the fashionably gritty Soho headquarters of the magazine. “And I thought, ‘This is great. Will someone pay me in the real world to do this?’ And for about 30 years I’ve gotten away with it.”“I just knew I wanted to do what I’d been getting away with at university — which was reading, writing about it, putting on stupid revues and working for student magazines,” Mr. Hislop said in an interview in the fashionably gritty Soho headquarters of the magazine. “And I thought, ‘This is great. Will someone pay me in the real world to do this?’ And for about 30 years I’ve gotten away with it.”
Early on, he gave a speech about how he would remain editor for a few years, fix the magazine and move on. “Which is hysterical, because I obviously did nothing of the sort,” he said. “I’m 55 and my 26-year-old self would have had a fit, someone so elderly hanging on to this job. But I can’t think of what else would be more fun.” Early on, he gave a speech about how he would remain editor for a few years, fix the magazine and move on. “Which is hysterical because I obviously did nothing of the sort,” he said. “I’m 55 and my 26-year-old self would have had a fit, someone so elderly hanging on to this job. But I can’t think of what else would be more fun.”
The magazine is private but highly profitable, with a paid circulation of about 230,000 copies, and it gives very little away online. Like the French satirical weekly “Le Canard Enchaîné,” it is printed on cheap paper and looks like a comic book. “The world is changing a lot, but we are now selling more copies than we were 20 years ago, and we have largely bucked the digital trend by not going digital,” Mr. Hislop said. The magazine is private but highly profitable, with a paid circulation of about 230,000 copies, and it gives very little away online. Like the French satirical weekly Le Canard Enchaîné, it is printed on cheap paper and looks like a comic book. “The world is changing a lot, but we are now selling more copies than we were 20 years ago, and we have largely bucked the digital trend by not going digital,” Mr. Hislop said.
“My only idea has been, don’t give away content for free,” he added. “That’s been my single contribution, and it’s worked for us. And also I’m just very old-fashioned about paying people.”“My only idea has been, don’t give away content for free,” he added. “That’s been my single contribution, and it’s worked for us. And also I’m just very old-fashioned about paying people.”
Like its French counterpart, Private Eye combines very funny jokes, many of them unashamedly adolescent, with serious investigative journalism of the kind most British papers no longer do. The trick, Mr. Hislop said, involves the readers, who provide leaks about what they know and love to settle scores.Like its French counterpart, Private Eye combines very funny jokes, many of them unashamedly adolescent, with serious investigative journalism of the kind most British papers no longer do. The trick, Mr. Hislop said, involves the readers, who provide leaks about what they know and love to settle scores.
“Professional gossip is really what drives this magazine,” he said. “It’s an insider job, Private Eye. People say, ‘Well, why do you get such good stories?’ and I always say, ‘Well, look who’s reading it.’ These are the people who know, and they tell us. So if you want to find out what’s going on in the Health Service, there are plenty of disgruntled doctors who will tell you. We’ve got people there who know, and M.P.s, and you know how leaky journalism is, so that’s not a problem. Lots of scores to settle.”“Professional gossip is really what drives this magazine,” he said. “It’s an insider job, Private Eye. People say, ‘Well, why do you get such good stories?’ and I always say, ‘Well, look who’s reading it.’ These are the people who know, and they tell us. So if you want to find out what’s going on in the Health Service, there are plenty of disgruntled doctors who will tell you. We’ve got people there who know, and M.P.s, and you know how leaky journalism is, so that’s not a problem. Lots of scores to settle.”
The magazine is also a good antidote to the British news media. “In the old days, Private Eye was there to break stories,” Mr. Hislop said. “Nowadays, we’re there to explain why stories are irrelevant or wrong and what the real story is.” Mr. Hislop does the same on the long-running BBC satirical television show, “Have I Got News for You.” THE magazine is also a good antidote to the British news media. “In the old days, Private Eye was there to break stories,” Mr. Hislop said. “Nowadays, we’re there to explain why stories are irrelevant or wrong and what the real story is.” Mr. Hislop does the same on the long-running BBC satirical television show “Have I Got News for You.”
But he knows the magazine really sells because of the jokes. “It’s expanded in terms of numbers of columns, numbers of areas we look at, but the essential mix is still the same,” he said. “Jokes, journalism. That’s it.” In that order? “Yeah.”But he knows the magazine really sells because of the jokes. “It’s expanded in terms of numbers of columns, numbers of areas we look at, but the essential mix is still the same,” he said. “Jokes, journalism. That’s it.” In that order? “Yeah.”
A recent cover proclaimed, “Cameron to bomb ISIS heartland,” with a fighter pilot saying, “Belgium, here we come!” Another piece mocked the rhetoric around the airstrikes in Syria, saying that the British Parliament had taken “the most important decision since the country went to war with Hitler in 1939,” as “Britain is now fully committed to continuing to bomb from the air a bit but not, of course, doing anything silly like putting troops on the ground where they might win or get killed.”A recent cover proclaimed, “Cameron to bomb ISIS heartland,” with a fighter pilot saying, “Belgium, here we come!” Another piece mocked the rhetoric around the airstrikes in Syria, saying that the British Parliament had taken “the most important decision since the country went to war with Hitler in 1939,” as “Britain is now fully committed to continuing to bomb from the air a bit but not, of course, doing anything silly like putting troops on the ground where they might win or get killed.”
Mr. Hislop had an expatriate youth. His father, a Scotsman, was a civil engineer who traveled the world, working in Nigeria, Kuwait, Saudi Arabia and Hong Kong, but he died when Ian was 12. Ian attended Ardingly College, a boarding school run on Christian principles, and then went on to Oxford. Mr. Hislop had an expatriate youth. His father, a Scotsman, was a civil engineer who traveled the world, working in Nigeria, Kuwait, Saudi Arabia and Hong Kong, but he died when Ian was 12. Ian attended Ardingly College, a boarding school run on Christian principles, and then went to Oxford.
In 1988, he married Victoria Hamson, a novelist; they have two children, Emily, 25, who works for Article 19, which defends freedom of information, and William, 22, who has just finished Oxford and is “entering the field of entertainment,” his father said with a slight smile. In 1988, he married Victoria Hamson, a novelist. They have two children: Emily, 25, who works for Article 19, which defends freedom of information, and William, 22, who has just finished Oxford and is “entering the field of entertainment,” his father said with a slight smile.
Mr. Hislop is an unusual mixture of Scottish skepticism and English faith in tradition, civic virtue and some sort of deity. Mr. Hislop is an unusual mixture of Scottish skepticism and English faith in tradition, civic virtue and some sort of deity. Asked why he remains an Anglican, he once responded: “I’ve tried atheism, and I can’t stick at it. I keep having doubts.” He has written and presented documentaries about the Church of England, and notes happily that Jonathan Swift was a dean. And he has a streak of little Britain, fascinated by the railways, Scouting and the Victorians, while castigating those who violate the norms of ethical social behavior.
Asked why he remains an Anglican, he once responded: “I’ve tried atheism and I can’t stick at it. I keep having doubts.” He has written and presented documentaries about the Church of England, and notes happily that Jonathan Swift was a dean. And he has a streak of little Britain, fascinated by the railways, Scouting and the Victorians, while castigating those who violate the norms of ethical social behavior. Satire, he says, has always been about exposing “vice, folly and humbug,” but vice seems to bore him, and he quickly got rid of the magazine’s gossip columns. “Do you really care who the Duke of Devonshire’s niece is sleeping with? I never did.” His decision was aided, he said, when those columnists tried to block him as editor, so he fired them.
Satire, he says, has always been about exposing “vice, folly and humbug,” but vice seems to bore him, and he quickly got rid of the magazine’s gossip columns. “Do you really care who the Duke of Devonshire’s niece is sleeping with? I never did.” His decision was aided, he concedes, when those columnists tried to block him as editor, so he fired them.
It is humbug that seems to infuriate him the most. He views Jeremy Corbyn, the new Labour Party leader, as the stale politics of the early 1980s. “It all becomes a joke, the idea that this is a new kind of kinder, fresher politics, but it’s exactly the same people with exactly the same background,” he said.It is humbug that seems to infuriate him the most. He views Jeremy Corbyn, the new Labour Party leader, as the stale politics of the early 1980s. “It all becomes a joke, the idea that this is a new kind of kinder, fresher politics, but it’s exactly the same people with exactly the same background,” he said.
Some call Mr. Corbyn a pacifist, “but actually he’s only a pacifist if it’s the West. Armed aggression on behalf of other groups he doesn’t have a big problem with,” Mr. Hislop said. “If you point out those sorts of contradictions it’s just reminding people of the things they don’t want to hear about, and they get cross.” SOME call Mr. Corbyn a pacifist, “but actually he’s only a pacifist if it’s the West. Armed aggression on behalf of other groups he doesn’t have a big problem with,” Mr. Hislop said. “If you point out those sorts of contradictions, it’s just reminding people of the things they don’t want to hear about, and they get cross.”
David Cameron, the British prime minister, brings laughter. There was the widely denied story in a book about Mr. Cameron involving a lewd act with a pig’s head. “If you want something disgusting the PM has done, there’s loads of it,” he said, citing a new tax on subsidized housing. “It’s all about a pig when he was 20. How about being really appalling when he was 50?”David Cameron, the British prime minister, brings laughter. There was the widely denied story in a book about Mr. Cameron involving a lewd act with a pig’s head. “If you want something disgusting the PM has done, there’s loads of it,” he said, citing a new tax on subsidized housing. “It’s all about a pig when he was 20. How about being really appalling when he was 50?”
If you have gone to an elite school like Eton, Mr. Hislop said, “you know who Cameron is — he’s very accomplished, very smooth, very confident, not overly diligent,” an intelligent coaster, “clever enough, but you don’t ever feel he’s read any of the detail on anything, none of the footnotes. Which is why he started in public relations, which is not an accident.”If you have gone to an elite school like Eton, Mr. Hislop said, “you know who Cameron is — he’s very accomplished, very smooth, very confident, not overly diligent,” an intelligent coaster, “clever enough, but you don’t ever feel he’s read any of the detail on anything, none of the footnotes. Which is why he started in public relations, which is not an accident.”
Mr. Hislop is the country’s court jester, but concedes he wants to be taken as an “homme sérieux,” having done documentaries and books on weightier topics. He is working on a documentary about attitudes toward the poor and on a play based on a film he did about a satirical newspaper produced in the trenches of World War I, “The Wipers Times” — monolingual British troops called Ypres, Wipers. Mr. Hislop is the country’s court jester, but concedes he wants to be taken as an “homme sérieux,” having done documentaries and books on weightier topics. He is working on a documentary about attitudes toward the poor and on a play based on a film he did about a satirical newspaper produced in the trenches of World War I, The Wipers Times — monolingual British troops called Ypres, Wipers.
Asked what he finds most ludicrous about Britain, Mr. Hislop thought for a moment, then cited the author Alan Bennett, now 81. “He was sitting writing and he heard the bands rehearsing for the Trooping the Color,” the parade that marks the official birthday of the monarch. “And he looked out of his window and said, ‘I was just thinking how utterly ridiculous this pompous nonsense is,’ and then he said, ‘I realized I had a lump in my throat.’ And being British,” Mr. Hislop said, “that is sort of what it’s like.”Asked what he finds most ludicrous about Britain, Mr. Hislop thought for a moment, then cited the author Alan Bennett, now 81. “He was sitting writing and he heard the bands rehearsing for the Trooping the Color,” the parade that marks the official birthday of the monarch. “And he looked out of his window and said, ‘I was just thinking how utterly ridiculous this pompous nonsense is,’ and then he said, ‘I realized I had a lump in my throat.’ And being British,” Mr. Hislop said, “that is sort of what it’s like.”