My Week Boris Johnson*
Monday
Everybody is shouting. Next door, the
baby is wailing. I’m face down on my
desk.
Matt Hancock is saying we need to
explain Covid rules by a sliding scale,
or perhaps a traffic light.
“Didn’t we do that in April?” says
Rishi Sunak.
“Oh, did we?” says Matt.
“More importantly,” says DominicRaab, “we need to talk about fishing.”
“Fishing,” I say, miserably, into my
ink blotter.
Liz Truss says something about
how they’re also very cross in
Liverpool. Although, of course, they
always are.
“And the agriculture bill,” says
Michael Gove, “because I love
animals.”
I’d forgotten he loved
animals.
Then Matt says
something about the
virus, and Rishi says
something about
retraining, and
Dominic says
something about
toilets and a
lorry park in
Kent.
Then the other
Dominic reminds
me that I’m due
to address MPs
on Zoom
tomorrow too,
and we need to
work on a strategy to win them over.
“What about tiers?” says Matt.
“I thought about that,” I say. “But
I’m a really ugly crier.”Tuesday
Hardly slept. Pulling myself together
for that Zoom thing. It’s a bit unruly.
Matt Hancock is doing the tech.
“So the red wall,” I’m warbling, “has
been, um, breached, like Hannibal
wait not Hannibal but Hadrian, we
have found that the northern savages
are... are.. .”
“Shall I sing Rule,
Britannia?” says Michael
Fabricant.
Matt mutes him.
Then Theresa May
kicks off with some
questions, and I tell them
that Liverpool,
Nottingham and
Manchester are all
places in the north. Or
near the north? And
they’re all different, but
also, the same! And so
we have a new system,
which goes from
top to bottom,
but starts in
the middle.
Ye s.
“And now,” I
say, thinking
I’d better turn
on the old Boris
charm, “for some
jokes!”“Those weren’t the jokes?” says
Theresa.Wednesday
At PMQs, Keir Starmer demands a
two-week circuit-breaker lockdown
for half-term. Back at No 10, there’s
uproar.
Dominic Cummings is the most
upset, because his boffins had done
loads of really expensive modelling
which suggested Keir wouldn’t attack
us on tiers because “tier” and “Keir”
are such similar words.
“To be honest,” I say, “I’m still not
sure I understand the tier thing.”
Matt says it helps to imagine if your
house was a bit on fire, versus if your
house was a lot on fire. As in, you’d
behave completely differently.
“Would you?” I say.
“Wouldn’t you?” he says, in panic.
“Anyway,” I say. “We are where we
are. And it’s simply too late to make
plans for half-term.”
“We’ll probably just go to Durham
again,” says Dominic, who might not
really be listening.Thursday
We’re locking down London. Also,
there’s Brexit. Keep forgetting. And
today is the deadline! For something.
Fishing! So, I’m Zooming all the other
national leaders in advance of a big
meeting they’re having.
“What, no invite?” I say.
“You’ve left,” Ursula von der Leyen
reminds me.
“But still,” I say, genuinely hurt.Then I haven’t got long, because it’s
a busy week. What with all the tiers.
“Animals?” says Angela Merkel,
confused.
“Les poulets chlorés,” says
Emmanuel Macron, sadly.
“Fish!” I say, remembering what this
call is about.
“Chicken,” says Macron, frowning.
“No we bloody aren’t,” I say, and
then I hang up, just to show them.
Reckon that went pretty well.Friday
Now the Brexit talks have completely
collapsed. Michael Gove calls and
says we’ll have a real problem with
the shit in Kent.
“Nigel?” I say. “But you’d think he’d
be delighted.”
Michael says he’s actually talking
about the problem of lorry drivers
needing the toilet all along the M
when the border closes. And the lorry
park we haven’t built yet. And the
way we’re going to need every
portable toilet. In the world.
“No time,” I moan. “Can’t think.
Lancashire! Where even is it?
Manchester. Andy Burnham. Canada.
Australia. Fish!”
Michael says I sound a bit tired.
Also, I tell him, there’s the baby. It’s
always teething. And in tears, too.
“But not for long,” says Michael.
“You think?” I say, hopefully.
“Oh sure,” says Michael. “Tier 3
soon.”*according to Hugo Rifkind
Re cord f ine
for BA over
big data hack
Tom Knowles
British Airways is to be fined a record
£20 million for failing to protect the
personal details of more than 400,
passengers.
Imposing a fine significantly less
than the feared £183 million, the Infor-
mation Commissioner’s Office (ICO),
the privacy watchdog, said it was un-
acceptable that the airline had failed to
put in measures to keep data secure.
In 2018 British Airways reported the
hack, leading the ICO to announce that
it would hit BA with the largest fine the
watchdog had imposed, amounting to
1.5 per cent of BA’s annual turnover of
£12 billion.
The hack occurred on June 22, 2018,
but the company was not aware of the
problem until September 5, when it was
alerted by someone outside the organi-
sation. Hackers gained access via the
BA website and mobile app by using a
stolen password to gain information
about card details, addresses, email
addresses and travel arrangements. A
total of 429,612 customers and employ-
ees were affected.
“There were numerous measures BA
could have used to prevent an attacker
being able to access the network,” the
ICO said. A BA spokeswoman said: “We
are sorry we fell short of our customers’
expectations. We are pleased the ICO
recognises that we have [since] made
considerable improvements to the
j security of our systems.”News
20 1GM Saturday October 17 2020 | the times