Paul Johnson’s great mind

Obituaries of Paul Johnson, who died last week, have captured his prodigious gifts of exposition, wide range of knowledge and formidable power of attack. All true, but there are good things to be added, which I saw as his editor at this paper in the 1980s, and as a friend. Despite his reputation for uncertain temper – Jonathan Miller said he ‘looked like an explosion in a pubic hair factory’ – Paul was a most reliable and easy contributor. His copy was self-starting, to length, on time. It hardly needed editing (except that he was, like Evelyn Waugh, surprisingly bad at spelling). Given that he lived entirely on what he wrote, I was touched that he never once complained about The Spectator’s fee for his weekly contribution, which was tiny (£90, I think). At that time, his column was about the press. It was, of course, fearless, and made trouble for many mighty media moguls but, for us in the office, Paul made no trouble at all.