We want to be inspired, not mimicked

From an Institute of Ideas talk by Craig Mawdsley at the National Portrait Gallery given by the senior planner at Saatchi & Saatchi

Monday, 12 March 2001

It is a time of unprecedentedly low participation in conventional politics. More people vote to evict people from the Big Brother house than vote in many elections. So what do politicians do about all of this? They try to look more like us - William Hague drinks people under the table and all Cabinet ministers are card-carrying football supporters. They wear jeans and appear on Richard and Judy.

It is a time of unprecedentedly low participation in conventional politics. More people vote to evict people from the Big Brother house than vote in many elections. So what do politicians do about all of this? They try to look more like us - William Hague drinks people under the table and all Cabinet ministers are card-carrying football supporters. They wear jeans and appear on Richard and Judy.

But none of this works. It doesn't work, because these people aren't remotely ordinary. They're politicians. There's nothing ordinary about being the Prime Minister and something deeply disturbing about wanting to be leader of the Conservative Party since you were 15 years old. No one can carry it off because it's not them. By and large, these are extraordinary people who have achieved a lot and get little credit for it. They think that we would like them more if they were like us. But they're missing the point.

George W Bush is the conclusion of all this, and I don't think we want to go there. A man who was elected president because he was less well qualified to do the job than the other guy. "Yes, he's a bit dumb like us, and he's never left the country either, so we'll have him. At least we know that he's not smart enough to confuse us."

This pursuit of ordinariness renders the institutions these people represent completely obsolete. Prime ministers are meant to be special people with vision and leadership ability. They're not meant to be your next door neighbour. Take the royal family - The entire principle of royalty is that you have a mystique, a magic surrounding the institution that makes you believe they have a special significance. If they end up succeeding in saying "hey, I'm just like you," then you end up with a group of fairly unappealing individuals who cost us all a vast amount of money for no apparent return.

They understand this in Hollywood. Julia Roberts' publicists aren't falling over themselves to send her to Patagonia to clean toilets. Michael Douglas and Catherine Zeta Jones didn't get married in a registry office in Carmarthen to prove that they're just like us. These are people who are fascinating to us because they are extraordinary and lead lives that fascinate us, precisely because they are so different to our own. Catherine Zeta Jones is simultaneously us and what many of us want to be. She can appear in films wearing Prada and lounging in the California sunshine, but she still has a vestige of a Welsh accent that reminds us who she is - both familiar and extraordinary at the same time.

Even the most oft-quoted example, is not really an argument for ordinariness. Victoria and David Beckham are about as far from ordinary as you could ever imagine. You have a woman who has pretty much given up her life for the pursuit of fame and fortune. She's working extraordinarily hard to win the hearts and minds of 12-year-olds across the globe. She's one of the most successful marketing people of the last decade. Her husband is the most gifted football player of his generation, combining the looks of a fashion model with the skills and reflexes of a gifted sportsman.

These people are not remotely ordinary, and that's why they're fascinating. The problem the politicians have is that their undoubted talents are not really coming to the fore. The pursuit of ordinariness in all things prevents us from seeing what they're really for - delivering a vision and working hard to implement it.

It's important to work out what people's aspirations are and try to help them achieve them. That's what politicians should be for. Working out what people are like and then trying to look, talk and dress like them rather misses the point. People would rather be inspired than mimicked.

Don't tell police what they'd see in the National Gallery or Wallace Collection

Comment: Philip Hensher
Monday, 12 March 2001

Thomas Mann's short story Mario and the Magician, a fable on the rise of fascism in Italy, begins with a small episode that seems unconnected to the main theme but, on contemplation, is intimately linked to it.

Thomas Mann's short story Mario and the Magician, a fable on the rise of fascism in Italy, begins with a small episode that seems unconnected to the main theme but, on contemplation, is intimately linked to it.

It is directly taken from an episode from Mann's own life, when he took his family on holiday to an Italian beach resort. In the story, a liberal German family allows its eight-year-old daughter to take off her swimsuit, which is stiff with sand, to rinse it in the sea.

The Italians on the beach are outraged, and mount a public protest.

The narrator is puzzled.

"In the last decade our attitude towards the nude body and our feelings about it have undergone a fundamental change all over the world. There are things we 'never think about' any more, and among these is the freedom we had permitted to this by no means provocative little childish body. But in these parts it was taken as a challenge."

Not just, it seems, in the context of Mussolini's Italy.

Last week, the police mounted a raid on the Saatchi gallery in London, and there were suggestions that several works of art by Tierney Gearon, an American photographer, be removed. A number of complaints from members of the public had been received, and the police had come to the view that the display of Gearon's photographs of naked, masked children on a beach may contravene child-protection legislation.

This heavy-handed action roused, unsurprisingly, condemnation from across the board. Baroness Warnock said that she "couldn't imagine anything more terrible than police coming in and saying this photographer can't take pictures of their own children". Alan Yentob was "sure they are completely innocent pictures". Blake Morrison said, rightly, that our current touchstone for obscenity has become the photographing of a naked child, and that this would have baffled all previous ages.

It is certainly an extraordinary action to take, and, personally, I cannot see what rational person could view these pictures as obscene.

By the same standards, our galleries are absolutely full of works of art which might contravene the Children Acts; not just Mapplethorpe's deliberately sexual images of children, but Bronzino's National Gallery allegory, with some decidedly under-age and incestuous sexual contact going on.

And for heaven's sake, no one tell the Met about the Wallace Collection, stuffed as it is with French rococo putti, all intently observing the lewdest scenes. And there is, of course, some art of previous ages that no painter or photographer could possibly get away with now; there is a Fragonard in Munich, which depicts a barely pubescent girl masturbating with a dog.

Next to a fairly average Boucher, Ms Gearon's photographs seem statements of utter blamelessness. What's wrong with them, then, that they have aroused the ire of the coppers? Well, first, the items in the Saatchi gallery are photographs, and therefore, as Blake Morrison says, "real - in a way that a figurative painting could never be". But, second, there has been a shift in belief, one that is as evident in the defenders of the work of art as in its official detractors.

The only defence now available for a work of art of this sort is that it is "innocent"; that there is no conceivable sexual content in it that would be apparent to any serious investigator. I don't see it. Childhood sexuality is an insistent presence in these photographs, with their masks and their forward posing. The question ought to be not whether these photographs are innocent of sexual implication, but whether that is an improper subject for the investigation of serious art?

The innocence of children is the principal belief that paedophiles fervently share with their official prosecutors. Paedophiles need to believe that children are innocent; the great desire of sexual abusers is of initiation into knowledge. They are more unwilling than anyone to admit what everyone has always known - that children have some form of sexuality.

To say that is not to think that the potential for desire in children should on its own ever lead to sexual practice, but it is entirely proper to say that their sexuality is a reasonable subject for the investigation of artists, as well as scientists.

Of course, any photographer who corrupted his models should be prosecuted. But no one can possibly think that Ms Gearon, photographing her own children, did any such thing. And to say that artists should not be permitted, within these bounds, to talk about the subject with freedom is to sacrifice an important civil principle to a single dubious proposition.

What readings will be drawn from Ms Gearon's photographs, a Bronzino allegory, Lolita or, for that matter, Little Dorrit, by someone who is already deeply disturbed, no one can say. If these subjects cannot be talked about by artists, then we have begun to lose our belief in the value a civilised society should place on art altogether.

Art lovers and culture minister defend artist over 'family snapshots'

By David Lister, Media and Culture Editor
Monday, 12 March 2001

The Culture Secretary, Chris Smith, yesterday spoke out against censorship in art after police warnings that the gallery run by contemporary art collector Charles Saatchi could be prosecuted for exhibiting photographs of naked children.

The Culture Secretary, Chris Smith, yesterday spoke out against censorship in art after police warnings that the gallery run by contemporary art collector Charles Saatchi could be prosecuted for exhibiting photographs of naked children.

For eight weeks of the exhibition at the Saatchi Gallery in north London the exhibition has attracted the attention only of those interested in contemporary art.

Then at the end of last week police visited the gallery, possibly studying art history, but equally possibly because they were tipped off by the News of the World, which ran a long excoriation of the exhibition at the weekend. Believing there was at least a case that the photographs constituted pornography rather than art, the Metropolitan Police have referred the case, concerning the exhibition called 'I am a Camera', to the Crown Prosecution Service.

The pictures involved are images by the London-based American photographer Tierney Gearon, 37. They depict her young children, Emilee, 7, and Michael, 4, clad only in masks.

Yesterday the debate moved from being between the gallery owner Charles Saatchi and the police to involving the government. The Culture Secretary, who has not seen the exhibition, became involved, warning of the dangers of censorship.

Speaking in a television interview Chris Smith said the key was to strike the difficult balance between the need to protect children from exploitation and maintain free speech.

"We must be very careful in this country before we start censoring things that are happening, either in newspapers or in art galleries," he told Sky's Sunday with Adam Boulton programme.

"We are a country that believes in free speech and we need to hold very fast to that principle. If there is material that is exploitative of children then obviously you need to have some degree of protection. Balancing those two objectives is what difficult questions of this kind have to be about."

Under the Protection of Children Act, it is an offence to take or exhibit "indecent photographs or pseudo-photographs of a child."

Raids on art galleries are rare. In 1966, police raided the Victoria and Albert Museum to investigate pictures by 19th century artist Aubrey Beardsley. In 1970, under obscenity laws police confiscated sexually explicit lithographs by John Lennon from a gallery.

Six years ago David Hockney spoke out at the Royal Academy in defence of the depiction of naked children, saying it was a tradition in art.

And, among those defending the exhibition, Lady Warnock, the moral philosopher, said: "I can't imagine anything more terrible than police coming in and saying this photographer can't take pictures of her own children. It is something artists have always done." The feminist writer and art critic Germaine Greer also defended the pictures saying they could be misused, but then so could images of the Virgin Mary.

Alan Yentob, one of the BBC's most senior executives, added: "The implication of obscenity has only been made as a consequence of the vice squad going to the gallery in a lumbering way. Have they not got better things to do?"

But not everyone even among the liberal intelligentsia, was prepared to defend the photographs. Andreas Whittam Smith, president of the British board of Film Classification, was critical of their inclusion in the exhibition and critical of the Saatchi Gallery for not taking the pictures down following the police visit.

Mr Whittam Smith said: "People will try to argue this is another Lady Chatterley case, but it isn't. The Protection of Children Act is just that. It's there to protect children. The people from the Obscenity Squad at Scotland Yard are highly professional and in touch with public opinion. The fact that these pictures are taken by a mother and exhibited in a public gallery is a gift to paedophiles. It shows it as normal and official and validated.

Visitors to the gallery yesterday did not suffer any adverse reactions to the exhibition. Eric de Bruyn, 30, a fine art student said: "I feel English people always have a problem with nudity whether it's adult or children. There is nothing obscene about these photographs. I don't think they are adult masks the children are wearing. I see them just as cartoon masks." Simon Hodson, 28, a consultant, added: "It's totally far-fetched to call this pornographic material. If you ask any family with children they will all have snapshots of a similar nature."

Jenny Blyth, the curator at the Saatchi gallery, has said she was stunned when the police arrived. "There were a couple of images they wanted us to remove and if we did not remove then they would get a warrant and remove the exhibits themselves. I was so surprised I couldn't believe it. They said they were looking at the threat of prosecution."

Ms Gearon defended her images, saying they were completely innocent and were part of a two-year project of documenting her family. "My children are beautiful and these are beautiful, innocent pictures," she said. I am immensely proud of my exhibition. I do not accept that I have done anything wrong. When people ask if I am sexually exploiting my children I honestly don't know what to say. It simply isn't true."

Edward Booth-Clibborn, the publisher of a book on which the exhibition is based, said police had told him to pull all copies from book stores. "They warned me that the book... was in contravention of the obscenity acts," he said. "This is not child pornography. These are brilliant works of art."

The exhibition, which has been mounted in association with The Independent on Sunday, runs at the Saatchi Gallery for a further two weeks.

Art world defends Saatchi child photos

By Cole Moreton
Sunday, 11 March 2001

The art world responded in dismay yesterday to news that police had raided the Saatchi Gallery in London and threatened to close down an exhibition that includes photographs of naked children.

The art world responded in dismay yesterday to news that police had raided the Saatchi Gallery in London and threatened to close down an exhibition that includes photographs of naked children.

"I'm all in favour of the police becoming art critics as long as criminals can become magistrates," said Jake Chapman, whose partnership with his brother Dinos has taken the modern art world by storm in recent years. "Art criticism should not be based on the Obscenity Act, which is as melodramatic as its name implies."

Scotland Yard's obscene publications unit has told the gallery to remove pictures by the American artist Tierney Gearon before it next opens on Thursday or face charges. The Crown Prosecution Service believes images of the photographer's children naked on a beach and urinating into snow may contravene child protection legislation.

The gallery does not intend to remove them. Last night artists and critics were unanimous in their condemnation of the raid, and warned that it could create a dangerous precedent that threatened artistic freedoms.

"I am sure they are completely innocent pictures," said Alan Yentob, the BBC's director of drama. "The implication of obscenity has only been made as a consequence of the vice squad going to the gallery in a lumbering way. Have they not got better things to do?"

Photographers had always been fascinated by the innocence of youth, he said. "I was very surprised that that such action should take place in a sophisticated city like London."

David Grobb of Eyestorm, an art dealer specialising in popular editions of work by contemporary artists such as Damien Hirst, agreed that the pictures were "pretty innocent. I'd have thought paedophiles would get more turned on by naturist magazines".

The images came across as "a celebration of family life", said Paul Wombell, director of the Photographers' Gallery in London. "A lot of parents take photographs of their children at this kind of age on holiday and they rarely have clothes on."

Jon Norton, the artist, banker and husband of Mo Mowlam, said: "In society, we need to have the greatest freedom of expression of art. And therefore art should never be constrained, however shocking or disturbing it is to society."

The critic Germaine Greer said the pictures did not represent "anything that other people don't do". They could be misused, she said, but then so could images of the Virgin Mary. "The annoying thing is that all the people who think they are not going to like it will go along to the gallery and make a nuisance of themselves - and the rest of the people who might understand it will probably stay away."

Karen Wright, editor of the magazine Modern Painters, said the CPS would be setting a "dangerous precedent" if it chose to pursue a case. "The masks used in some of the photos transform them into something quite eye-catching and eerie, but I don't think they are obscene or titillating."

Jake Chapman warned against an over-reaction to the actions of "a group of unsophisticated, superstitious police officers. They encourage avant-garde protestations and make it more pleasurable to make more crude art."

Naked nonsense

Sunday, 11 March 2001

Acting (it would appear) on the promptings of a Murdoch-owned tabloid newspaper, officers of Scotland Yard's Obscene Publications Unit have visited London's Saatchi Gallery and warned that they will return to seize pictures from the current exhibition, "I am a Camera" (sponsored, incidentally, by The Independent on Sunday), unless some offending photographs are removed. Meanwhile, other police from North Wales have asked the BBC for a videotape of "winker" Anne Robinson's appearance on Room 101 following complaints of anti-Welsh racism. What a joy to know that our boys in blue have so much time on their hands.

Acting (it would appear) on the promptings of a Murdoch-owned tabloid newspaper, officers of Scotland Yard's Obscene Publications Unit have visited London's Saatchi Gallery and warned that they will return to seize pictures from the current exhibition, "I am a Camera" (sponsored, incidentally, by The Independent on Sunday), unless some offending photographs are removed. Meanwhile, other police from North Wales have asked the BBC for a videotape of "winker" Anne Robinson's appearance on Room 101 following complaints of anti-Welsh racism. What a joy to know that our boys in blue have so much time on their hands.

Only they haven't, of course. Like all the public services, the police are hard-pressed trying to follow their worthwhile duties, without time- and resource-wasting exercises such as these. The photographs in question are the work of the American photographer Tierney Gearon, and depict her children, naked, wearing masks and urinating on snow. Reprinted several times in broadsheet newspapers and glossy magazines, they are undoubtedly provocative; to some they are disturbing. That is the point of them. It is doubtless why Charles Saatchi bought them, and why his gallery displays them.

But these photos are in a different league from the illegal and non-consensual violent images of children available on the internet. To compare them is not only to insult the artist and her children - it is to devalue the damage done to children by real paedophiles. The gallery's curator, Jenny Blyth, remarked, "They [the photographs] are funny and delightful. Tierney Gearon is totally devoted to her children. They are snapshots of children at play. They are not depraved in any way."

Of course, there is a fine line between art, pornography and an innocent depiction of reality. It would be disingenuous to pretend otherwise. It is a line of which Norman Tebbit was well aware when he compared Rupert Murdoch's Page Three girls to the nude paintings of Rubens. We must be vigilant about the blurring of that line. But this stand against the photographs in the Saatchi Gallery - or against Ms Robinson's remarks on the Welsh - makes the law look an ass.

CPS to consider charges over naked children in photographic exhibition

By Jade Garrett and Elaine Cole
Saturday, 10 March 2001

The Crown Prosecution Service is considering whether to take action against the Saatchi Gallery over an American photographer's exhibition containing naked pictures of her children

The Crown Prosecution Service is considering whether to take action against the Saatchi Gallery over an American photographer's exhibition containing naked pictures of her children

Police told the gallery that the photographs of Tierney Gearon's children naked on the beach and urinating into the snow on a skiing holiday may contravene child protectionlegislation.

Jenny Blyth, the curator of the gallery, confirmed that police had visited the I am a Camera exhibition and interviewed her and Gearon. "The police said they were acting on what they described as 'widespread' complaints about the exhibition, which the police felt contravened the Child Protection Act," she said. She claimed the police had told her to remove the pictures by next Thursday or they would return with a warrant.

A spokeswoman for the Metropolitan Police said officers had made two visits to the gallery, but denied ordering that the pictures be removed. "We were concerned about the nature of some of the photos," she said. "We have not ordered their removal as we have no power to do that unless a law has been contravened, but we have sent a report to the Crown Prosecution Service for a decision on whether to prosecute."

Ms Blyth said that the gallery would continue to exhibit Gearon's pictures, which have been widely published in magazines and national newspapers. "The two pictures that the police have commented upon are harmless photographs of her children disporting themselves on holiday," she said. "They lack any prurient interest and are neither lewd, nor sexually provocative." She said that any prosecution would be a breach of an undertaking given to Parliament when the Children Act was passed.

I am a Camera, which is sponsored by The Independent on Sunday, has been at the Saatchi Gallery since the middle of January and has attracted up to 3,000 visitors at the weekends. The gallery has extended its run because of high public demand.

Saatchi, pure and simple

The brothers have taken revenge on their eponymous agency. In a rare interview, Maurice Saatchi talks about how he is an ad man reborn

By Jade Garrett
Tuesday, 20 February 2001

"Pop star" is not a description you would readily apply to Lord (Maurice) Saatchi of Staplefield. But that's how one of his chief executives describes him. "Pop star", "hustler", "the arch-simplifier"... the list goes on. Everyone has an opinion, but few of the descriptions seem to sit well with the man himself.

"Pop star" is not a description you would readily apply to Lord (Maurice) Saatchi of Staplefield. But that's how one of his chief executives describes him. "Pop star", "hustler", "the arch-simplifier"... the list goes on. Everyone has an opinion, but few of the descriptions seem to sit well with the man himself.

M&C Saatchi enters its seventh year with the satisfaction that it has outstripped Saatchi & Saatchi, the agency the brothers founded in 1970 and were subsequently ousted from, for the first time in a new business league table. As a business story, it received blanket coverage in the national press; to Lord Saatchi, it had an "air of inevitability about it".

A combination of hard-nosed determination and an inherent fear of failure is what pulled in £250m last year - not forgetting a little help from some of the best top-level contacts in the business. Lord Saatchi's associates will tell you he spends practically every night out, entertaining clients. Staff will tell you how the agency's reception area is continually redecorated before important clients' visits.

Lord Saatchi's standards are what prised a slice of the £25m Sainsbury's account away from a rival agency that had held it for 20 years. He also refused to accept that his agency had been turned down for the £40m Rover account when it came up for review. He called the troops back to the agency in the middle of the night to rework the pitch, and eventually won.

I'm sitting in a glass-walled meeting-room on the seventh floor of M&C Saatchi's Golden Square offices, looking out towards the London Eye, waiting for my first glimpse of those famous specs. This is where the agency's five partners reside: Maurice and Charles Saatchi, Jeremy Sinclair, Bill Muirhead and David Kershaw.

Two minutes later, Lord Saatchi appears and instantly starts negotiating the sort of piece he wants me to write before telling me that all personal questions are off-limits.

For the record, he is the son of Iraqi Jews who were forced to rebuild their lives in post-war Britain. He has been married to the writer Josephine Hart - the author of Damage and Oblivion - for nearly 20 years. It's his second marriage. And he has one young stepson and a son from his marriage to Hart.

He is fiercely protective of his private life, and the "pop star" tag is undoubtedly not one he would care to promote. But you can see why it's applied. Despite his insistence on singling out other members of the management team for praise, he remains the star attraction at M&C, in the eyes of both the staff that work for him and the clients he serves.

In six years, M&C has become the UK's sixth largest agency, one place above S&S, with a staff of more than 250 and an international network of 10 offices. Fronting the agency today are the joint chief executives, Moray MacLennan and Nick Hurrell, and managing director, Tim Duffy. Chairman James Lowther and creative director Simon Dicketts complete the top-level line-up. While MacLennan may be comfortable admitting that under the circumstances it's difficult not to feel smug, Lord Saatchi is more cautious.

What was his reaction on beating Saatchi & Saatchi?

"It was noted," he says.

But the reality must have been much sweeter than he's letting on. In 1994, Maurice and Charles Saatchi suffered the indignity of seeing the agency they founded wrested from them by an American investment fund that controlled the majority of shares. Maurice resigned after being stripped of his executive role, and Charles followed. At the time, it was described as the biggest bust-up in advertising history.

Senior Saatchi & Saatchi management and multimillion-pound business followed them out the door. In January 1995, The New Saatchi Agency was born (later to become M&C Saatchi) and its launch made the national News at Ten.

Then in April 1995, British Airways joined the ranks. One condition to winning the account was that the brothers opened three other offices in New York, Australia and Hong Kong. So that's what they did.

M&C was founded with the slogan "brutal simplicity of thought", and Lord Saatchi has built an agency that prides itself on being able to get straight to the point. "There is an astonishing amount of waffle and vagueness, a lack of clarity. Precise thinking and simplicity are the qualities we admire."

The witchcraft comes, he says, in turning simple thinking into striking images. "I find walking into this building an elevating experience. The average age is 28, so it has a very exuberant atmosphere. It is non-political in a way that I have never experienced before. There are no corridor conversations. You can say what you really believe without feeling that it is going to cause hurt or resentment. There is none of the electric tension that exists in most corporate meetings."

Second time around, Lord Saatchi has binned the management books. He maintains that there was no plan other than to make the agency the opposite of everything that Saatchi & Saatchi stood for.

"Paranoia and fear motivate us pretty strongly," adds MacLennan. "It comes from the way the company was born. A spotlight was on us, everybody waiting for us to fail."

At the time of M&C's launch, there were 35 legal writs between the two agencies. "Saatchi & Saatchi tried to strangle us at birth, tie us up in legal matters so that we couldn't operate," says MacLennan.

But it's the lack of a guiding principle that critics home in on today. While other agencies refuse to advertise to children and shun the multimillion pound cigarette or alcohol accounts on principle, what is M&C's enduring business philosophy?

"It's true to say there isn't one," says Lord Saatchi. "The company started without a philosophy, without a plan. It was more like a tidal wave that took us along with it. Aimlessness has been an asset because we don't have the linear ambitions of Saatchi & Saatchi, a company driven by its aim to become the number one agency in the world. It was obsessed by league tables and its position in them. We have raised aimlessness to a high art."

The agency stands accused of always chasing the money and ignoring the issues - ditching its Health Department anti-smoking campaigns in favour of Silk Cut, and, after famously helping the Tories to power, they now work with the Central Office of Information. Lord Saatchi doesn't see the harm in this, and compares it to the work of a barrister. "The idea of being choosy about your clients according to some philosophy is very pompous."

The reason he no longer works with the Tories, he says, is because 22 years was long enough.

And what of the ads? While other agencies have made their names on the back of a single client - Levi's for Bartle Bogle Hegarty, Volkswagen for BMP DDB and Tango for HHCL and Partners - what single ad campaign defines M&C? "There are no defining campaigns," says Lord Saatchi, "because we are eclectic. We do the press advertising for Currys and Dixons, which is certainly the best retail advertising in the country, alongside posters for 'Euro No' and TV campaigns for police recruitment and British Airways. It's very varied, but I hope what they all share is clear thinking."

"They're in for the quick kill," says one of Saatchi's original shareholders. "They are good hustlers with big names that do good work, but I'm not sure it can be classed as great work."

Thirty years in the business are said to have mellowed Lord Saatchi considerably. The man who once famously said "It's not enough for us to succeed, others must fail", now has words like "softly, softly" applied to him. But while M&C might pride itself on an open approach and clarity, Lord Saatchi can be frustratingly vague. What does the future hold? He'd like more of the same. Why is the agency so unloved in the industry? He's unaware that it is. Can he imagine a time when he won't be so involved in the running of M&C? Not really.

And most importantly, what does he make of the rumour that M&C is soon to surrender to the advances of the French giant Publicis? After all, the two already work together on BA. He says he hasn't heard that one. Odd, then, that his two chief executives have. If he were to sell, would Publicis be an obvious choice? You guessed it, he doesn't know.

But what is behind his loathing of being interviewed? He'll tell you it's because the real glory belongs to his team, but a big part of it harks back to something Charles once said. His elder brother hasn't given an interview about the business in over 20 years, some say because he is worried people will be disappointed with the real him.

And no amount of probing will ever convince Lord Saatchi to tell you anything he doesn't want to. For him too, perhaps, the perception is reality.