At moments when they are about to deliver yet another item of miserable news, government ministers tend to intone the now-familiar mantra that we are all facing "tough decisions". It has become a verbal tic, rather like the use of "Inshalla" in Arabic countries.
Yet the real tough choices are not for Tories – toughness is part of their marketing package, after all – but for decent, good-hearted liberals living in difficult times.
Here, for example, is a perfect moral conundrum. A blow in favour of books for children has been struck, supported by the National Trust for Literacy and involving the former children's laureate Michael Morpurgo. On the other hand, the campaign involves a deal between McDonald's and a Murdoch publishing company, and, if successful, could well encourage unhealthy eating and childhood obesity.
It is a straightforward moral choice. The McDonald's chain is aggressively marketing its £2.20 Happy Meals by offering free books, nine million of them, as incentives. In the past, the company has been in trouble for encouraging children to pester their parents by offering toys with its burgers or nuggets. Last year, Happy Meals were banned by a court in Santa Clara County in California in order "to prevent restaurants from preying on children's love of toys to peddle high calories, high fat, high sodium kids' meals."
Now, cunningly, McDonald's has changed the bait to books. It is cynical, the Campaign Director of the Children's Food Campaign has said, a touch desperately. It should not be the role of a fast-food chain to encourage literacy.
Yet cynicism, of course, is what happens in a market-led society. The National Literary Trust was quite right to take a deep breath, hold its nose and support the initiative. Having revealed last month that one in three children does not have a single book at home, the organisation knows better than most that now is not time for squeamishness.
Local councils are closing libraries. The minister responsible, Ed Vaizey, is being utterly feeble. Bookshops are losing their place on the High Street. It is children in relatively deprived areas who are paying the highest price, slipping into a world in which the imagination never extends beyond a computer game.
Where are these readers most likely to be found? Scoffing Happy Meals, of course. If a hard-eyed corporation cleverly exploits the fact that children are being deprived of all that books and stories offer, then to oppose it, from a position of privilege, is hypocritical and snobbish.
Maybe the young readers will be a little tubbier than they would otherwise have been, but at least they will be reading. While government ministers are wringing their hands about children's literacy while doing nothing, a fast food chain is cashing in. We should be grateful.
Spare us 'cultural exports' like Clarkson
The many defenders of Jeremy Clarkson are probably right. In his way, he and his work are perfect reflections of a kind of England rarely reflected in the mainstream media.
Unfortunately that England is crass, vulgar and faintly shaming. It is also represented by Top Gear around the world.
In a recent programme, the presenters went to India. The Prime Minister, a pal of Clarkson's, appeared in it. There were jokes about lavatories, getting the trots, and various pathetic and ignorant references to the local culture.
With quiet dignity, the Indian High Commissioner has complained to the BBC, referring to "the hurt sentiments of a large number of people". The undertakings given by the BBC, and believed, in their innocence, by the Indian authorities, had been cheerfully ignored.
There has been no apology yet, and even if one is made, that process has become utterly devalued by repetition. This man, according to the BBC chairman Lord Patten, is "a leading cultural export". How very embarrassing that is.Reuse content