We can't deny that race plays a part

Christina Patterson: The Independent

Too many black men have been killed by the police. This is not the cause of these riots, but it's in the mix

Wednesday, 10 August 2011

August, historians will tell you, is a good time to start a war. And, boy, does this feel like a war. This feels, when you switch on the TV, and see footage of burning cars, and burning buildings, and of people jumping out of burning buildings, and of people too scared to walk down their street, and of dark silhouettes in helmets waving shields, and of dark silhouettes in hoodies waving iron bars, like the nearest to war most of us have been.

This feels, when you talk to friends, and find that they're staying in with their children all day, because the area outside their front door has been turned into something that looks as though a bomb has hit it, and when you talk to friends who do open their front door, and find a looter in a balaclava hiding in their garden, like the end of something, and the start of something else. It feels like the end of getting up in the morning, and knowing that you'll be able to go to work safely, and get home safely, and do your job safely when you're there.

For some of us, the only sign on our doorsteps was even more police cars screeching past than usual, and shops that closed early, and helicopters overhead. For my neighbours, down the road in Dalston, and down the road in Hackney, it wasn't. For the man, for example, who runs a pharmacy in Mare Street, and watched a group of teenagers try to trash his shop, which was, he said, "everything he had", and who pleaded with them not to, it must have felt like the end of everything he'd spent his whole life working to build up.

For the other shopkeepers in Mare Street, and the ones in Dalston, and the ones in Tottenham, and the ones in Brixton, who watched teenagers smash glass and fill their pockets with mobile phones, or jewellery, or grab trainers, or tracksuits, or even stagger under the weight of giant TVs, it must have felt as if one of the central pillars of their life was under threat.

And for the people who lost their homes, and all their possessions, and their children's toys, and every single photo of their children, which they will never, ever be able to get back, and who nearly lost their lives, and their children's lives, because someone thought it was a good laugh to throw a can of kerosene and a match, it must have felt as near as you get to losing your world, without losing your life.

This is what happens in a war. Wars start for a million different reasons, and the time to understand those reasons is not while the war is going on. They can start – even world wars can start – with a single gunshot. This one did. This one started with an old, old story, of a black man killed by police. It started when a woman wanted to know why four children would never see their father again. And when the police said nothing. And frustration turned, as it often does, and particularly in communities where there's a lot of frustration, to anger, and anger turned, as it often does, and particularly in communities where there are a lot of teenagers with not very much to do, to violence.

And it spread. Do we know if the boys, and young men, smashing windows, and trashing shops, and burning cars, and buses, and buildings, in Hackney, and Croydon, and Brixton, and telling passers-by that what they were doing was "fun", and that they were "trying to get their taxes back", knew about the shooting of the black man, or even cared? Do we know if they knew about the black teenager in Hackney who was stopped and searched by the police, and found to have nothing illegal on him?

We don't, and we can't. We don't, and can't, know why young men, and teenagers, and children as young as 10 suddenly decided that it was a good idea to do what everyone else was doing, which was to spread chaos, and violence, and fear. But we do know that when a tinderbox, or a car, or a carpet store, is set alight, this is what, throughout history, everywhere in the world, sometimes happens.
Race didn't cause these riots, but it played a part. Why else do you get three black men talking about them on
Newsnight, when you almost never see a black man talking about anything on Newsnight? And asked questions about "the black community", as if the people who had had their livelihoods destroyed would have the same views on anything as the 12-year-olds waving iron bars? And why else do you get people talking, as they are on newspaper websites, and radio phone-ins, about "thieving black scum"?

There is no excuse for wrecking people's livelihoods and lives. "She's working hard to make her business work," screamed a brave black woman at some of the rioters in Hackney, "and you lot want to burn it up, for what? To say you're warring, and you're 'bad man'? This is about a fucking man who got shot in Tottenham. This isn't about busting up the place. Get it real, black people. Get real!"

The woman was nearly in tears, and who wouldn't cry seeing their community destroyed, and who wouldn't cry knowing that this would be yet another excuse for people to associate black people with crime? The rioters weren't all black, of course. They were black, and mixed race, and white and wannabe black. They were people who are probably already in gangs, but who usually keep their violence to other gangs, but who, on Saturday, and Sunday, and Monday, and Tuesday, didn't. On Saturday, and Sunday, and Monday, and Tuesday, they discovered, perhaps for the first time outside their little world, the thrill of power.

There are 169 gangs in London. There are 22 in Hackney alone. These are people, often people who have grown up on estates where almost nobody works, often without fathers, and often without any qualifications, skills, or ambitions, who feel that the world has let them down. The guns and knives they carry make them feel that there's a tiny corner of the world they can control. And because of these boys – no more than 2,000 of them – who carry guns and knives, and because it takes more than reports on "institutional racism" to get rid of "institutional racism", you can hardly walk down a street, if you're black, without being stopped and searched.

Too many black men have been killed by the police. Too many black men and women have been treated like criminals when they're not. This is not the cause of these riots, but it's there in the mix, a mix where the key ingredient is feeling powerless. Cuts won't help. Growing unemployment won't help. Some investment, in youth services, and better schools, and mentoring schemes, might, but money alone isn't the answer.

It wasn't these children who created the culture that told them that what mattered was the brand of their trainers, or the glitter of their bling. It wasn't these children who created the culture that told them that their one hope of escape was hip hop, or fame. It wasn't these children who created the institutions of a country where all the black workers were in the canteens. We have, as a society, created this monster and, as a society, and like those people heading into the trouble spots with dustpans and brushes, we must pick up the pieces.

c.patterson@independent.co.uk; twitter.com/queenchristina_

Medical Errors - Eighth Leading Cause of Death in the US

According to the Institute of Medicine, between 690,000 and 748,000 patients are affected by medical errors in the US every year and between 44,000 and 98,000 die from them. Even this low ball estimate makes medical mistakes the eighth leading cause of death worse than breast cancer, AIDS and motor vehicles accidents. It also makes medicine far more error prone than high-risk fields. For commercial aviation to take the same toll in the US as medical errors do, a full-up 747 would have to crash every three days, killing everyone on board.

More troubling is the medical profession's traditional response to these disturbing statistics, which has largely involved evasion, obfuscation, minimisation, defensiveness and denial....

"Observing more senior physicians, students learn that their mentors and supervisors believe in, practice and reward the concealment of errors. They learn to talk about unanticipated outcomes until a mistake morphs into a complication. Above all they learn not to tell the patient anything."  - Nancy Berlinger in After Harm.

Extracted from Being Wrong by Kathryn Schulz

Ratings Agency Hypocrites

S&P’s downgrade carries a large dose of irony, since the extra debt the U.S. has piled on recently came courtesy of S&P's moronic toxic asset ratings.

by Nomi Prins | August 7, 2011 7:6 AM EDT

Can’t say rating agencies don’t have a sense of humor. Last weekend, the painfully embarrassing bipartisan political drama to raise the U.S. debt ceiling centered around doing whatever it took to avoid losing our sacrosanct AAA credit rating. This weekend, under cover of a Friday night, with markets safely closed and global traders gone for the weekend, the best-known rating agency, Standard and Poor’s, basically mooned U.S. economic policy.

On one main score, S&P’s downgrade rationale is right: Washington policy-making is decidedly "dysfunctional.” In fact, that’s a seismic understatement.

But that would also be a fair description of S&P’s decision-making in recent years. Remember: In the run-up to this very financial crisis, for which our debt creation machine at the Treasury Department ramped into over-drive, S&P was raking in fees for factory-stamping "AAA" approval on assets whose collateral was hemorrhaging value.

That high class rating was the criterion hurdle that allowed international cities, towns and pension funds to scoop up those assets, and then borrow against them because of their superior quality, and later suffer devastating losses and bankruptcies when the market didn’t afford them the value that the S&P AAA rating would have implied.

Perhaps, this downgrade is S&P’s way of saying, we’re on it now—we’re not going to give bad debt a pass anymore. Earlier this week, they downgraded a bunch of Spanish and Danish banks that are sitting on piles of crappy loans. Then, of course, there was Greece.

But just like Washington, the agency is missing the main reason for the recent upshot in debt. There’s a bar chart on the White House website that cites an extra $3.6 trillion of debt created during the Obama administration which is labeled for "economic and technical changes." That figure doesn’t include the $800 billion of stimulus money delineated separately, which is more deserving of that moniker.

Banks concocted $14 trillion of toxic assets that S&P rated AAA between 2003 and 2008.

Jin Lee / AP Photo

But it’s not like the GOP, in particular its Tea Party wing, screamed once about that $3.6 trillion figure during the latest capitol cacophony. Instead, the Treasury Department made up a name for Wall Street subsidies, and Congress went along. And until this spring, when the debt cap debate geared up a notch, S&P was pretty mum about this debt and exactly why it was created.

Recall, banks concocted $14 trillion of toxic assets that S&P rated AAA between 2003 and 2008—or higher in credit worthiness than it now deems the U.S. government to be. These banks now store $1.6 trillion of excess Treasury debt on reserves at the Fed (vs. about zero before the 2008 crisis) on which interest is being paid. In addition, the Fed holds $900 billion of mortgage related assets for the banks. Plus, about a half of trillion of debt is still backing some of AIG’s blunders, JP Morgan Chase’s takeover of Bear Stearns, the agencies that trade through Wall Street, and other sundries. That pretty much covers the extra debt since 2008—not that S&P mentioned this.

But yes, S&P is right. There is no credible plan coming from Washington to deal with this excess debt, nor is the deflection of the conversation to November fooling anyone, but that’s because there’s been no admission from either party as to why the debt came into being.

The bottom line? In the aftermath of the financial crisis, the U.S. created trillions of dollars of debt to float a financial system that was able to screw the U.S. economy largely because banks were able to obtain stellar ratings for crap assets, which had the effect of propagating them far more quickly through the system than they otherwise would have spread. The global thirst for AAA-rated assets pushed demand for questionable loans to fill them from the top down, as Wall Street raked in fees for creating and selling the assets. Later, banks received cheap loans, debt guarantees, and other financial stimulus from Washington when it all went haywire, ergo debt.

Despite a few congressional hearings on the topic, the rating agencies were never held accountable for their role in the toxic-asset pyramid scheme. Now they are holding the U.S. government accountable. The U.S. government deserves it, not because spending cuts weren’t ironed out, but because Wall Street stimulus wasn’t considered, the job market remains in tatters, and there’s no recovery on the horizon.

Still, the downgrade demonstrates that the U.S. doesn't run the show—the private banks and rating firms that get paid by them, do.

August 7, 2011 7:6am

BBC's TOP GEAR and Creative Truth

Top Gear's electric car shows pour petrol over the BBC's standards

Why is Top Gear apparently exempt from the BBC's editorial guidelines and the duty not to fake the facts?

Jeremy Clarkson test drives the Leaf electric car Photograph: BBC

 

What distinguishes the BBC from the rest of this country's media? There's the lack of advertising, and the lack of a proprietor with specific business interests to defend. But perhaps the most important factor is its editorial guidelines, which are supposed to ensure that the corporation achieves "the highest standards of due accuracy and impartiality and strive[s] to avoid knowingly and materially misleading our audiences."
Here's a few of the things they say:

"Trust is the foundation of the BBC: we are independent, impartial and honest."
"We will be rigorous in establishing the truth of the story and well informed when explaining it. Our specialist expertise will bring authority and analysis to the complex world in which we live."
"We will be open in acknowledging mistakes when they are made and encourage a culture of willingness to learn from them."

Woe betide the producer or presenter who breaches these guidelines. Unless, that is, they work for Top Gear. If so, they are permitted to drive a coach and horses – or a Hummer H3 - through them whenever they please.

Take, for example, Top Gear's line on electric cars. Casting aside any pretence of impartiality or rigour, it has set out to show that electric cars are useless. If the facts don't fit, it bends them until they do.

It's currently being sued by electric car maker Tesla after claiming, among other allegations, that the Roadster's true range is only 55 miles per charge (rather than 211), and that it unexpectedly ran out of charge. Tesla says "the breakdowns were staged and the statements are untrue". But the BBC keeps syndicating the episode to other networks. So much for "acknowledging mistakes when they are made".

Now it's been caught red-handed faking another trial, in this case of the Nissan LEAF.
Last Sunday, an episode of Top Gear showed Jeremy Clarkson and James May setting off for Cleethorpes in Lincolnshire, 60 miles away. The car unexpectedly ran out of charge when they got to Lincoln, and had to be pushed. They concluded that "electric cars are not the future".

But it wasn't unexpected: Nissan has a monitoring device in the car which transmits information on the state of the battery. This shows that, while the company delivered the car to Top Gear fully charged, the programme-makers ran the battery down before Clarkson and May set off, until only 40% of the charge was left. Moreover, they must have known this, as the electronic display tells the driver how many miles' worth of electricity they have, and the sat-nav tells them if they don't have enough charge to reach their destination. In this case it told them – before they set out on their 60-mile journey – that they had 30 miles' worth of electricity. But, as Ben Webster of the Times reported earlier this week, "at no point were viewers told that the battery had been more than half empty at the start of the trip."

It gets worse. As Webster points out, in order to stage a breakdown in Lincoln, "it appeared that the Leaf was driven in loops for more than 10 miles in Lincoln until the battery was flat."

When Jeremy Clarkson was challenged about this, he admitted that he knew the car had only a small charge before he set out. But, he said: "That's how TV works". Not on the BBC it isn't, or not unless your programme is called Top Gear.

Top Gear's response, by its executive producer Andy Wilman, is a masterpiece of distraction and obfuscation. He insists that the programme wasn't testing the range claims of the vehicles, and nor did it state that the vehicles wouldn't achieve their claimed range. But the point is that it creates the strong impression that the car ran out of juice unexpectedly, leaving the presenters stranded in Lincoln, a city with no public charging points.

Yes, this is an entertainment programme, yes it's larking about, and sometimes it's very funny. But none of this exempts it from the BBC's guidelines and the duty not to fake the facts.

The issue is made all the more potent by the fact that Top Gear has a political agenda. It's a mouthpiece for an extreme form of libertarianism and individualism. It derides attempts to protect the environment, and promotes the kind of driving that threatens other people's peace and other people's lives. It often creates the impression that the rules and restraints which seek to protect us from each other are there to be broken.

This is dangerous territory. Boy racers, in many parts of the countryside, are among the greatest hazards to local people's lives. Where I live, in rural mid-Wales, the roads are treated as race tracks. Many of the young lads who use them compete to see who can clock up the fastest speeds on a given stretch. The consequences are terrible: a series of hideous crashes involving young men and women driving too fast, which kill other people or maim them for life. In the latest horror, just down the road from where I live, a young man bumped another car through a fence and into a reservoir. Four of the five passengers drowned.

Of course I'm not blaming only Top Gear for this, but it plays a major role in creating a comfort zone within which edgy driving is considered acceptable, even admirable. Top Gear's political agenda also persists in stark contradiction to BBC rules on impartiality.

So how does it get away with it? It's simple. It makes the BBC a fortune. Both the 15th and 16th series of Top Gear were among the top five TV programmes sold internationally by BBC Worldwide over the last financial year. Another section of the editorial guidelines tells us that "our audiences should be confident that our decisions are not influenced by outside interests, political or commercial pressures". But in this case we can't be. I suggest that it is purely because of commercial pressures that Top Gear is allowed to rig the evidence, fake its trials, pour petrol over the BBC's standards and put a match to them. The money drives all before it. 

• guardian.co.uk © Guardian News and Media Limited 2011

UK's secret policy on torture revealed

Document shows intelligence officers instructed to weigh importance of information sought against pain inflicted

• Ian Cobain
• guardian.co.uk, Thursday 4 August 2011 12.42 BST
• larger | smaller

A number of men said they were questioned by MI5 and MI6 officers after being tortured at Guantánamo Bay. Photograph: Mark Wilson/Getty Images
A top-secret document revealing how MI6 and MI5 officers were allowed to extract information from prisoners being illegally tortured overseas has been seen by the Guardian. The interrogation policy – details of which are believed to be too sensitive to be publicly released at the government inquiry into the UK's role in torture and rendition – instructed senior intelligence officers to weigh the importance of the information being sought against the amount of pain they expected a prisoner to suffer. It was operated by the British government for almost a decade. A copy of the secret policy showed senior intelligence officers and ministers feared the British public could be at greater risk of a terrorist attack if Islamists became aware of its existence. One section states: "If the possibility exists that information will be or has been obtained through the mistreatment of detainees, the negative consequences may include any potential adverse effects on national security if the fact of the agency seeking or accepting information in those circumstances were to be publicly revealed. "For instance, it is possible that in some circumstances such a revelation could result in further radicalisation, leading to an increase in the threat from terrorism." The policy adds that such a disclosure "could result in damage to the reputation of the agencies", and that this could undermine their effectiveness. The fact that the interrogation policy document and other similar papers may not be made public during the inquiry into British complicity in torture and rendition has led to human rights groups and lawyers refusing to give evidence or attend any meetings with the inquiry team because it does not have "credibility or transparency". The decision by 10 groups – including Liberty, Reprieve and Amnesty International – follows the publication of the inquiry's protocols, which show the final decision on whether material uncovered by the inquiry, led by Sir Peter Gibson, can be made public will rest with the cabinet secretary. The inquiry will begin after a police investigation into torture allegations has been completed. Some have criticised the appointment of Gibson, a retired judge, to head the inquiry because he previously served as the intelligence services commissioner, overseeing government ministers' use of a controversial power that permits them to "disapply" UK criminal and civil law in order to offer a degree of protection to British intelligence officers committing crimes overseas. The government denies there is a conflict of interest. The protocols also stated that former detainees and their lawyers will not be able to question intelligence officials and that all evidence from current or former members of the security and intelligence agencies, below the level of head, will be heard in private. The document seen by the Guardian shows how the secret interrogation policy operated until it was rewritten on the orders of the coalition government last July. It also: • Acknowledged that MI5 and MI6 officers could be in breach of both UK and international law by asking for information from prisoners held by overseas agencies known to use torture. • Explained the need to obtain political cover for any potentially criminal act by consulting ministers beforehand. The secret interrogation policy was first passed to MI5 and MI6 officers in Afghanistan in January 2002 to enable them to continue questioning prisoners whom they knew were being mistreated by members of the US military. It was amended slightly later that year before being rewritten and expanded in 2004 after it became apparent that a significant number of British Muslims, radicalised by the invasion of Iraq, were planning attacks against the UK. The policy was amended again in July 2006 during an investigation of a suspected plot to bring down airliners over the Atlantic. Entitled "Agency policy on liaison with overseas security and intelligence services in relation to detainees who may be subject to mistreatment", it was given to intelligence officers handing over questions to be put to detainees. Separate policy documents were issued for related matters, including intelligence officers conducting face-to-face interrogations. The document set out the international and domestic law on torture, and explained that MI5 and MI6 do not "participate in, encourage or condone" either torture or inhuman or degrading treatment. Intelligence officers were instructed not to carry out any action "which it is known" would result in torture. However, they could proceed when they foresaw "a real possibility their actions will result in an individual's mistreatment" as long as they first sought assurances from the overseas agency. Even when such assurances were judged to be worthless, officers could be given permission to proceed despite the real possibility that they would committing a crime and that a prisoner or prisoners would be tortured. "When, not withstanding any caveats or prior assurances, there is still considered to be a real possibility of mistreatment and therefore there is considered to be a risk that the agencies' actions could be judged to be unlawful, the actions may not be taken without authority at a senior level. In some cases, ministers may need to be consulted," the document said. In deciding whether to give permission, senior MI5 and MI6 management "will balance the risk of mistreatment and the risk that the officer's actions could be judged to be unlawful against the need for the proposed action". At this point, "the operational imperative for the proposed action, such as if the action involves passing or obtaining life-saving intelligence" would be weighed against "the level of mistreatment anticipated and how likely those consequences are". Ministers may be consulted over "particularly difficult cases", with the process of consulting being "designed to ensure that appropriate visibility and consideration of the risk of unlawful actions takes place". All such operations must remain completely secret or they could put UK interests and British lives at risk. Disclosure of the contents of the document appears to help explain the high degree of sensitivity shown by ministers and former ministers after the Guardian became aware of its existence two years ago. Tony Blair evaded a series of questions over the role he played in authorising changes to the instructions in 2004, while the former home secretary David Blunkett maintained it was potentially libellous even to ask him questions about the matter. As foreign secretary, David Miliband told MPs the secret policy could never be made public as "nothing we publish must give succour to our enemies". Blair, Blunkett and the former foreign secretary Jack Straw also declined to say whether or not they were aware that the instructions had led to a number of people being tortured. The head of MI5, Jonathan Evans, said that, in the post 9/11 world, his officers would be derelict in their duty if they did not work with intelligence agencies in countries with poor human rights records, while his opposite number at MI6, Sir John Sawers, spoke of the "real, constant, operational dilemmas" involved in such relationships. Others, however, are questioning whether – in the words of Ken Macdonald, a former director of public prosecutions, "Tony Blair's government was guilty of developing something close to a criminal policy". The Intelligence and Security Committee, the group of parliamentarians appointed by the prime minister to assist with the oversight of the UK's intelligence agencies, is known to have examined the document while sitting in secret, but it is unclear what – if any – suggestions or complaints it made. Paul Murphy, the Labour MP and former minister who chaired the committee in 2006, declined to answer questions about the matter. A number of men, mostly British Muslims, have complained that they were questioned by MI5 and MI6 officers after being tortured by overseas intelligence officials in Pakistan, Bangladesh, Afghanistan and Guantánamo Bay. Some are known to have been detained at the suggestion of British intelligence officers. Others say they were tortured in places such as Egypt, Dubai, Morocco and Syria, while being interrogated on the basis of information that could only have been supplied by the UK. A number were subsequently convicted of serious terrorism offences or subjected to control orders. Others returned to the UK and, after treatment, resumed their lives. One is a businessman in Yorkshire, another a software designer living in Berkshire, and a third is a doctor practising on the south coast of England. Some have brought civil proceedings against the British government, and a number have received compensation in out-of-court settlements, but others remain too scared to take legal action. Scotland Yard has examined the possibility that one officer from MI5 and a second from MI6 committed criminal offences while extracting information from detainees overseas, and detectives are now conducting what is described as a "wider investigation into other potential criminal conduct". A new set of instructions was drafted after last year's election, published on the orders of David Cameron, on the grounds that the coalition was "determined to resolve the problems of the past" and wished to give "greater clarity about what is and what is not acceptable in the future". Human rights groups pointed to what they said were serious loopholes that could permit MI5 and MI6 officers to remain involved in the torture of prisoners overseas. Last week, the high court heard a challenge to the legality of the new instructions, brought by the Equality and Human Rights Commission. Judgment is expected later in the year.

• guardian.co.uk © Guardian News and Media Limited 2011

What's luck got to do with injury?

When a player walks off the field injured, we tend to sympathise. We need to pause to think if he is culpable

Sanjay Manjrekar in Cricinfo

August 4, 2011

Over the last few days MS Dhoni has been fending off questions about his team's fitness about as frequently as some of his young batsmen have had to fend bouncers in England.

I'm certain Dhoni has his own views on fitness, and I would love to hear them one day, for he is one of the fittest men in international cricket, but as captain - well, he has to say the right things, doesn't he? His patent response to questions about injuries to his key players has been that they are unfortunate and there is nothing one can do. I agree with him that injuries are indeed unfortunate, but I hope he does not really mean it when he says there is nothing one can do about them. There is plenty you can do about injuries, and there is a very good, logical explanation for why some cricketers suffer more of them than others.

When a player gets injured, it is often termed unlucky, and he is generally spared criticism, on the assumption that it was beyond the poor cricketer's control. I have seen, during my playing career, cricketers take advantage of this mindset of the fans and media to tackle their insecurities as players: you would often find a short period of poor form quickly followed by an injury absence.

Except in obvious cases, like where fingers are broken while batting or fielding - like with Yuvraj Singh at Trent Bridge - I really think most injuries should be held against players, as you would a poor performance on the field. Injuries too largely happen because of poor performance - off the field. A player who does not forget that he is a top-level international cricketer, even when he is not playing matches, simply does not get injured often.

Kapil Dev, the great Indian allrounder, who I had the privilege of playing with, was one of the fittest Indian cricketers there has been, and there is no better role model of a fit Indian cricketer than him. Was Kapil lucky that he could play 131 Test matches as a fast-medium bowling allrounder, missing only one Test in between, when he was dropped for playing a wild slog at a delicate stage in a match? No, he wasn't. There was a good reason for why he was so durable.

Kapil's greatest asset was that he was an outstanding athlete. Unathletic cricketers tend to suffer more injuries than athletic ones, and there are numerous examples in Indian cricket of fast bowlers who were talented but not good athletes. Should the lack of athleticism of a player not be held against him? Wouldn't the lack of a natural flair for numbers be held against a chartered accountant who keeps bungling up balance sheets?

Kapil was a superb athlete, and admirably, it was an advantage he never took for granted. He may not have given you the impression of being a thinking batsman, but when it came to his bowling, fielding and general approach to fitness, there was no one quite as sharp. He knew his body well and he made sure that he never pushed it beyond a certain limit, but he was also careful to not keep it in cold storage for too long.

During fielding drills, even before matches, Kapil would always throw the ball back to the keeper with real pace, while most fast bowlers I saw, would want to rest their bowling shoulders. Kapil thought different. He made sure his shoulder was always ready and never surprised - in case he had to throw hard for a run-out first ball of a match, for instance. Damage to a body often happens due to such sudden acts, resulting in the player missing games because of an "unfortunate" injury. Mind you, Kapil was not injury-free through his long career, but he planned the rehabilitation well, so he was always ready and raring to go for the next Test. Playing for India meant a lot to him.

Kapil did not let anyone influence him into changing his natural bowling action - though it had the potential threat of creating lower-back problems. He believed that if his body was allowing him to bowl without discomfort, it had to be the right action for him. I wonder, when I watch some of our Indian seamers who keep breaking down, whether they have strayed from their natural actions so much that their bodies have started protesting.

Rest to the body, as we know, is as critical as physical training, for a long, relatively injury-free career, and that is the big challenge for modern-day players: to get time off to rest their tired bodies. But it is also true that a cricketer opting out of an international series is not as big a deal as it used to be; players are usually given their time off without it being held against them. There is always a tour of West Indies or Bangladesh to take a break from, as we have seen.

I saw a couple of Indian players come into the England Test series off a period of relaxation, with chubby faces and bulging midriffs. That's not something you'd ever see with Rahul Dravid. The only international cricket he plays these days is Test cricket, and he often has to come into the team off long periods of "inactivity", but each time he turns up, he looks lean and mean. Dravid is another player with an excellent record of long-term fitness in Indian cricket, and he does not even have great natural athleticism to thank for it. What he has plenty of, though, as we all know, is discipline. He is the perfect example of that cricketer I mentioned earlier, who even when he is not playing reminds himself every day when he wakes up that he is still an active international player, only waiting for his next international assignment.

Players who are willing to make sacrifices, I have found, sustain fewer injuries than others, so the next time we see a cricketer suffer yet another pulled muscle, let's pause for a moment more before saying, "That's unlucky."

India's reinstatement of Ian Bell was a testament to their sportsmanship, not to cricket's supposed moral superiority

The oldest cricket cliche of them all

Ian Bell acknowedges the crowd after his second stint at the crease following his reinstatement against India. Illustration: Laurence Griffiths/Getty Images

A question: what connects the increase in 1923 of the cost of brewing licences, the British Army's use of dum dum bullets in the Boer War, modern Toryism, Arthur Balfour's opinions on Tariff reform, the lack of bilingual librettos in modern opera, the refusal of Lancashire mill owners to limit the working hours of their employees, and the theft, in 1921, of 1,000 cigars and a consignment of Trilby hats by the theatrical agent Marmaduke Miller?

The answer is that they were all, according to the Guardian "not cricket".

Unsurprisingly enough given its overuse, the cliche eventually lost its currency. But the myth persists that cricket adheres to a stricter set of ideals than other sports. There are a set of stumps pitched permanently on the moral high ground. And so, when MS Dhoni recalled Ian Bell to the crease last Sunday, the phrase "not cricket" was dragged out and dusted down by a couple of the commentators on Test Match Special.

My friend and colleague Rob Smyth wrote a good little book trying to fathom exactly what the spirit of cricket is. But one of the most telling definitions I've seen recently came from Steve James. "I was captain of Glamorgan for two full seasons and in both we won the MCC's Spirit of Cricket award," he wrote last Sunday. "But I've no idea what we did or what it was for." The spirit, Steve rightly points out, is a morass of contradictions. It is permissible for a batsman to stand his ground if he knows he has touched the ball, but it is a sin for a fielder to claim a catch that has touched the ground. It is against the spirit to "dispute an umpire's decision by word, action or gesture," but the DRS now encourages players to do exactly that.

As the Guardian has proven, it is often easier to point out what the spirit of cricket is not than what it is.
And what it is not has, over the years, encompassed just about everything. One of the earliest appearances of "not cricket" was in the Guardian, back in 1888, in a report of the opening match of the county season between Nottinghamshire and Sussex. "The Notts Committee agreed with the Marylebone Club in their endeavour to put down leg play," we are told. "It was not cricket, said Mr Oates, and people would not come to see play of that kind." Leg play! Perish the thought.

In England cricket first flourished as a game played by blackguards, rogues and gamblers, matches were played outside village inns for vast wagers, and results were bought and sold. It was the Victorians who recast it as an altogether more upright activity. "Not cricket" next crops up in the Guardian in a report of a sermon given by the Venerable Archdeacon Wilson at Rochdale Parish Church on 4 February 1894. "Cricket encourages a love of fair play," he told what we can only assume was an enthralled audience. "It is a moral training that operates far outside the cricket field." As for football, well, "the dishonourableness and ill-temper of its controversies is best described as 'not cricket'."

And yet anyone with even the most cursory knowledge of the way the Grace brothers played the game will know that they committed sins against "the spirit" that went way beyond playing the ball to the leg side.
Back in 1864, for instance, "not cricket" makes its very first appearance in these pages in a report of an incident in a game between Surrey and '18 gentlemen', one of whom was WG's elder brother, Edward. "Finding Jupp holding his ground at the wicket in defiance of the most insidious and trying balls," Grace "resorted to the expedient" of bowling a series of three "full pitch deliveries which culminated at 30 foot high and descended on the wicket at an angle unprovided for in the practice of the game."

Jupp, assuming it was an errant delivery, hit the first of them to leg (gasp!) for two. But then "turned sulkily" away from the next two deliveries and allowed them to take their course. The third of them landed flush on the undefended wicket. "There were bursts of hisses from the spectators, who did not conceal their disapprobation for Mr Grace's bowling. They stigmatised him as an 'old woman' and his bowling as 'no cricket'. "The Sporting Papers took up the question, and numerous correspondents angrily support either side," the report continues. "The main accusation against Mr Grace's new trick is that it is "not cricket". That it is quite legal we may assume, as the umpire did not decide against it."

And there's the rub. To this day there is a tension between the letter and the spirit of the laws. What a team is allowed to do and what we think it ought to do can be two quite different things, and when it comes to winning matches players often prefer to give the first precedence over the second, while the press do the reverse.

When Rob's publisher designed the cover for his book, they chose to use one of the most iconic photographs in the history of cricket: Andrew Flintoff with his arm around Brett Lee in the moments after England's victory at Edgbaston in 2005. And understandably so – for many people it seemed to capture the essence of the spirit of the game.

And yet there are people who worked alongside Flintoff in the England team – who insist on staying off the record – who argue that this was the moment that spoiled him as a cricketer. From that point on, they have told me, he became too obsessed with the public perception of him as 'good old Freddy', the guy who always plays the game in the right spirit. When he was appointed captain for the 2006-07 Ashes, he was too friendly with the opposition, too keen to have a laugh during the game and a beer after it. England even brought in a sports psychologist before the third Test at Perth to try and toughen him up. Flintoff himself hinted at this when he wrote, in the forward to Matthew Hayden's autobiography, that the friendships he developed with the Australians changed the dynamic, bringing "a respectful edge to the proceedings" in the middle.

And so to Trent Bridge last Sunday. Some will always argue that MS Dhoni's decision – prompted, reportedly, by the insistence of Sachin Tendulkar – to recall Bell showed weakness in his team's will to win. Others, myself among them, would say that it was simply an impressive piece of sportsmanship, albeit no more so than Paolo Di Canio's refusal to score in an open net when the former Everton keeper Paul Gerrard was down injured, or Andy Roddick arguing that the line judge was wrong to call Fernando Vedasco on a double fault when he was down match point in the 2005 Rome Masters.

The credit is India's alone. The decision was a testament to their character and sportsmanship, not to the moral superiority of the sport they play. The prattle about other sports learning from India's example seems insufferably pompous coming from a game whose history has been as riddled with controversy as cricket's has.