Robert McNeil: Founding fathers knew a good idea when they saw it, even if they disagreed about Sudockie

Published on Monday 12 May 2008 12:26

I HAVE been asked to say a few words about the place of The Scotsman in modern society vis-à-vis the ongoing economic and phenomenological situation and so forth.

However, as that sounds like it involves a lot of research, I have decided instead to make a few unscripted remarks. These will not be devoid of emotion. I have been employed by The Scotsman since the end of the First World War, initially in a sweeping, broad-brush role (I still have the original brush) and latterly more as a free-range, semi-organic, farm-assured consultant, pulling strings in the background and setting the general editorial tone of the paper, apart from all the political guff.

My words, therefore, come from the bottom. Of my heart, I can only say every beat enjoins the citizens of this nation to cherish The Scotsman, learn about your daft country, and keep several hundred gnomes cheerfully employed doon the bottom of Holyrood Road (and one wandering about in a dwam on Blackford Hill).

The Scotsman was originally started to cheer people up during the Black Plague. The two founders have, of course, become household names. But, to save looking them up, let us call them Mr A and Mr B. Picture them, if you will, in a mud-and-wattle hut on the High Street of Edinburgh, with their feet in basins of warm, soapy water.

Mr A: "Now, this newspaper that we are founding. I want it to be full of funny stuff. But I propose we put in a lot of tedious rigmarole about politics, the economy and so forth, so that it looks like a proper newspaper, and we can get the nobs on board."

Mr B: "Capital idea, Mr A – I am sorry, I have forgotten your real name for the moment. I have also thought of a game we could put in to amuse the lieges. I propose to call it Sudockie."

Mr A: "You have raised this idea with me before and I seem to recall, the last time, I instructed you to boil up a cauldron of water and immerse your heid in it. That sort of thing will never catch on. We must be realistic. The people want adverts on the front and closely packed pages of print with no celebrities mentioned. And no football. Bunch of idiots blootering a pig's bladder hither and yon."

Mr B: "Fair enough. Talking of bladder-related matters, hadn't we better write some sort of mission statement?"

Mr A: "Wot's that, then?"

Mr B: "Get with the programme, Mr A. Basically, a mission statement is a pile of verbiage, in which you make up high-falutin' principles aboot liberty and so forth."

Mr A: "I see."

And so, after a few more jugs of claret, they came up with the following words, which have resounded with clangs throughout the centuries: "Before proceeding to the ordinary business of our paper, we beg to observe, that we have not chosen the name of Scotsman to preserve an invidious distinction, but with the view of rescuing it from the odium of servility."

What an extraordinary statement! What on earth possessed them to put a comma after "observe"? Importantly, the statement continues: "With that stain removed, a Scotsman may well … yada-yada." Stirring words indeed. They saw Scotland through crises such as the Highland Clearances, Wembley 1966, Braveheart, and so forth.

It's interesting how the original founders banged on about the name. What inspired branding! Somehow, it has invaded the world's psyche, as no other paper's title in Scotland has done. You can phone anywhere in the world, saying "Hello, I'm from The Scotsman, don't you know?", and from Buenos Aires to Belarus, they know who you are. Even in London, they sometimes give a faint hint of recognition.

I cannot recall now if there was ever a serious intention to rename it The Scotsperson. It was joked about, but that's as far as it went. It changed to The Scotswoman. For a day. The leader of that coup, Lesley Riddoch, was taken away and never seen again, though ever since, to cover up the crime, I have had to write articles under her byline.

Some say The Scotsman sits on the fence politically, but it has to accommodate a wide range of views. When it matters, the paper has never shirked from adopting controversial stances, such as supporting the Second World War and calling for the Moors Murderers to be punished.

In 1922, it published its first photograph, of a brooch presented to Princess Mary by Edinburgh Corporation. Yes, that's what it says here. A brooch. It's thought to have been the first – and, interestingly, the last – time a brooch has featured on the front page of a newspaper. The picture caused a sensation, with several ladies in Morningside fainting theatrically.

I hear you say: "Yes, all very well. But what we want to know is, how do they treat you, the staff? Do they try to make you write unionist claptrap?" I can answer that question with only a small amount of dishonesty. They pretty well let me write what I want, only getting itchy when it comes to dangerous phenomena such as fundamentalist Islam, the Craven Scotch or Magnus Linklater. Even then, it's very rare that I don't get away with it, and I'm enormously grateful to the paper for letting a different, unconventional voice prosper and mutate ("said Mr McNeil, shortly before he was fired").

Surprisingly, for such an ancient institution, The Scotsman has embraced the challenges of the post-steam age with alacrity. The internet has posed new challenges for journalists. Before, we only had to write for intelligent, discerning people who took a broad view of matters generally. Now, we also have to cater for psychopaths, sad-cases and axe-grinders who sit up till three in the morning, bravely posting hate-mail from behind pseudonyms. It's called progress.

I return to Mr A and Mr B – their names come to me now, Ritchie and Maclaren – who could little have envisaged the trouble they started all these years ago. I see them now, sitting in newspaper heaven, perusing their copies of the paper.

Ritchie: "I say, Mr Maclaren, have you finished the Sudoku yet?"

Maclaren: "No, as you know, I still believe the adverts should be read first. Once I've got through the Upholstery & Home Furnishings – a magnificent read – I shall turn my attention to your fiendish tomfoolery."