101 YEARS OLD AND STILL RECOMMENDS CAUTION...

MUCH fun was had last week at the expense of schools minister Nick Gibb who refused to answer a television interview question when he was asked what eight times nine is. “I have learnt through bitter experience never to answer these kind of questions,” he said.

Curiously, the interviewer then failed to pull him up on his ungrammatical use of the phrase “these kind of questions” instead of saying “this kind of questions” or “these kinds of question [or questions]”, thus compounding his apparent innumeracy with a simple inability to notice that ‘kind’ is singular and thus requires the singular ‘this’ rather than the plural ‘these’. How, we might ask, can a chap who can’t tell singular from plural be expected to know nine times eight?

If Hilaire Belloc was still alive, I feel sure he would compose a Cautionary Tale on the matter, but he is not, so I feel I must do so myself. Nick, who had problems with

multiplication tables. Young Nick, from quite an early age, Had no pretence to be a sage, But still outpaced the other fools, Becoming Minister for Schools. He then exposed, for all to see, His weaknesses on live TV. An interviewer asked him straight: Do tell me, sir, what’s nine times

eight?” The minister was clearly flustered, His visage turned the shade of custard. “I’m glad you asked me that,” he said, “Now ask me something else instead. Don’t try your viewers to confuse, I’m here to talk about the news.” The interviewer said, “That’s fine, Instead I’ll ask you eight times nine.” Poor Nick by now was feeling queasy, “Eight nines,” he said, “is not so easy. The answer, you must surely see, Depends on things like VAT And if our calculations must For winter seasonal change adjust. I wouldn’t want to estimate What’s eight times nine or nine times

eight, Before I know the policy Of people at the Treasury And how my answer might affect Negotiations in Utrecht, Berlin, Rome, Paris, all points East, Before our EU role has ceased. I really must procrastinate Before I tell you nine times eight.” “Your arguments are not persuasive,” They said, “Don’t try to be evasive. The nation your reply awaits: So tell the viewers, what’s nine

eights?” “Nine eights, eight nines, it’s all the

same, I’m bored with your incessant game. You sit there twiddling your thumbs And posing me horrendous sums. I will not answer your request. Ask Stephen Hawking, he knows best.” Then up he got and off he flounced, His limitations now denounced. The moral of the squalid tale, Is ministers are set to fail, Unless they stay informed and cool, Recalling what they learnt at school, And don’t forget, as they once knew, That eight times nine is seventy-two.