What is the first historical event you can recall?
The Falklands War. I must have been about eight. I seem to remember Brian Redhead intoning all the latest on the Today programme, which I woke up to (courtesy of my parents) then, and still do now.
What is the book you are most embarrassed you never read
1984 by George Orwell—though I am now finally about to read it, with my 12-year-old daughter.
One bit of advice you’d give to your younger self?
Don’t worry so much. Things will turn out OK. Or Den peirazei as the Greeks would say.
What is your favourite saying?
“What will survive of us is love”—from Philip Larkin’s “An Arundel Tomb.” In this world of trouble, it is love, friendship and loyalty that matter more than anything else.
What was your most memorable interview of 2016?
Interviewing the parents of the murdered teenager Alice Gross left us all in tears in the studio. Hearing her father describe the years he shared with his daughter—and the future stolen from both of them—was sad beyond words. At the other end of the scale, interviewing right-wing provocateur Milo Yiannopoulos left me struggling to remain civil, as he described feminism as a cancer and denounced the gender pay gap as a myth.
If you were given £1m to spend on other people, what would you spend it on and why?
Mental health services for young people—because I know how important they are.
The talent you wish you had?
Playing jazz piano. I played the violin from a very young age but would love to be able to sit down in a bar at a honky tonk piano, like in Casablanca, and bash out some melodies.
What are the best and worst presents you’ve ever received?
The best presents I’ve ever had are pictures my children have done. I was less keen on the digital photo frame someone once bought me. I have a bit of a phobia of messy clusters of wires, so the idea of a photo frame you had to plug in really didn’t appeal.
Can you change things by reporting on them?
Yes. The Telegraph changed the political climate by reporting on the expenses scandal. The Guardian changed the media world by reporting on phone hacking. And I like to think Channel 4 News has wrought change too—from Iraq, to Syria, to Sri Lanka, to the UK.
What is the biggest problem of all?
That we can deliver parcels by drone and are making strides towards finding a cure for cancer, but we’re no closer to stopping people from senselessly killing each other.
Are things getting better or worse?
This is the central paradox Barack Obama addressed in his recent United Nations speech. It feels sometimes as if the world is going to hell in a handcart, with seemingly intractable conflicts around the world. And yet for so many, life is getting better not worse. To quote one example from Obama: the number of people living in extreme poverty has been dramatically cut. That’s something to celebrate.
The last piece of music that brought you to tears?
The hymn “Dear Lord and Father of Mankind,” sung recently at the memorial service for a colleague who died, far too young, from cancer. The soaring melody reverberating round the journalists’ church, St Bride’s Fleet Street, was almost too much to bear.
The Falklands War. I must have been about eight. I seem to remember Brian Redhead intoning all the latest on the Today programme, which I woke up to (courtesy of my parents) then, and still do now.
What is the book you are most embarrassed you never read
1984 by George Orwell—though I am now finally about to read it, with my 12-year-old daughter.
One bit of advice you’d give to your younger self?
Don’t worry so much. Things will turn out OK. Or Den peirazei as the Greeks would say.
What is your favourite saying?
“What will survive of us is love”—from Philip Larkin’s “An Arundel Tomb.” In this world of trouble, it is love, friendship and loyalty that matter more than anything else.
What was your most memorable interview of 2016?
Interviewing the parents of the murdered teenager Alice Gross left us all in tears in the studio. Hearing her father describe the years he shared with his daughter—and the future stolen from both of them—was sad beyond words. At the other end of the scale, interviewing right-wing provocateur Milo Yiannopoulos left me struggling to remain civil, as he described feminism as a cancer and denounced the gender pay gap as a myth.
If you were given £1m to spend on other people, what would you spend it on and why?
Mental health services for young people—because I know how important they are.
The talent you wish you had?
Playing jazz piano. I played the violin from a very young age but would love to be able to sit down in a bar at a honky tonk piano, like in Casablanca, and bash out some melodies.
What are the best and worst presents you’ve ever received?
The best presents I’ve ever had are pictures my children have done. I was less keen on the digital photo frame someone once bought me. I have a bit of a phobia of messy clusters of wires, so the idea of a photo frame you had to plug in really didn’t appeal.
Can you change things by reporting on them?
Yes. The Telegraph changed the political climate by reporting on the expenses scandal. The Guardian changed the media world by reporting on phone hacking. And I like to think Channel 4 News has wrought change too—from Iraq, to Syria, to Sri Lanka, to the UK.
What is the biggest problem of all?
That we can deliver parcels by drone and are making strides towards finding a cure for cancer, but we’re no closer to stopping people from senselessly killing each other.
Are things getting better or worse?
This is the central paradox Barack Obama addressed in his recent United Nations speech. It feels sometimes as if the world is going to hell in a handcart, with seemingly intractable conflicts around the world. And yet for so many, life is getting better not worse. To quote one example from Obama: the number of people living in extreme poverty has been dramatically cut. That’s something to celebrate.
The last piece of music that brought you to tears?
The hymn “Dear Lord and Father of Mankind,” sung recently at the memorial service for a colleague who died, far too young, from cancer. The soaring melody reverberating round the journalists’ church, St Bride’s Fleet Street, was almost too much to bear.
