At a Christmas lunch in London last December, a merchant banker named Nathaniel Norgren - nicknamed Nog - got so drunk that he knocked over a table, spilling red wine over the front of a colleague, Elizabeth Weston, writes Kevin Myers.
A bit of a pest, this Nog. He had already complimented Weston on her cleavage, and had argued with a male colleague whether the slang for breasts was waps or baps, declaring: "Elizabeth has great waps." He also talked about barbecuing, which Weston later maintained that was a euphemism for sex. Less euphemistically, he wondered about her sexual life, and at one point put his arms around her suit and said, "Your waist is skinny too." This was not at work, but at a drunken lunch. Afterwards, after Weston complained to her boss about Nog's behaviour, he was immediately docked a year's bonus of $48,000, though half of that was returned to him on appeal. Moreover, he wrote a comprehensive letter of apology, and asked Weston to send him the bill for the dry cleaning. Which, all in all, made it pretty hefty punishment for some drunken yuletide infelicities, but that's merchant banking for you.
However, the matter did not end there. Weston left Merrill Lynch and proceeded to sue it for sexual harassment, victimisation and constructive dismissal, largely on the basis of what happened at that lunch. However, there were other complaints - one is that a female executive was "racist" toward her (she is Australian). Another was that a senior executive referred to a Danish colleague as a "hurdy-gurdy" because of her accent. She alleged that he said. "I haven't heard hurdy-gurdy talking for a while. She's talking filth, isn't she? Those Scandinavians are always talking filthy, aren't they?" Weston alleged that she - the poor dear - had suffered from breathlessness, insomnia, panic attacks, palpitations, tearfulness and lack of confidence because of what had happened to her. Nog had meanwhile left Merrill Lynch to join an investment company in the Channel Islands. However, when news of Weston's suit became public knowledge, his job offer was withdrawn. Last Friday, Merill Lynch settled Weston's case with a half a million pound pay-out, and she is returning to Australia. (Good riddance). Thus she and her lawyers are much, much richer; and meanwhile poor old Nog, unemployable in banking because of her court case, is now a van-driver.
So. Is this it? Is this what the feminist project has come to, where successful professional women are suddenly reduced to tearful little victims whenever men become drunken or stupid or flirtatious? Is every such human infelicity to end in the courts? Are foolish men to be reduced to driving vans, while women to whom they made "inappropriate" remarks are given vast financial compensation? This surely is the nadir of feminism, the permanent infantilisation of women.
Meanwhile, thanks to the equality, feminism and the race relations industry, the courts are becoming even more intrusive and powerful, even as they manage to see out of both ends of the telescope simultaneously. Thus when a woman is not being infantilised as the victim, she is being magnified as the heroine: hence the Appeals Court ruling in London last week that one third of the future earnings of the Arsenal footballer Ray Parlour should go to his ex-wife.
The original High Court settlement had given her £250,000 in a lump sum, plus £212,000 a year, and their million pound home (complete with swimming pool) plus a holiday home in Norfolk. But the Appeals Court increased the annual payments to £406,000, with another £37,500 for the children. These yearly payments are to be reviewed in four years' time - even though her ex-husband's contract with Arsenal expires next year, and it will not be renewed.
But why did the court so rule about future income, over which Karen Parlour can have no possible influence? Because, in the past, she helped cut down on his drinking. (So what stops him drinking now she's out of his life? And why should she be rewarded for this?) All else aside, Ray Parlour seems like your typical modern footballer: a vapid, overpaid, irresponsible individual who walked out on his wife and children, and it is right that he should maintain them all. But surely, the lump sum, the houses and the £202,000 personal annual maintenance would have been enough compensation to Karen Parlour? Well, that's what she thought initially. So why did she appeal the original settlement? "Because my lawyer and my barrister said they wanted me to do it, and that I had a good chance of winning." Because my lawyer and barrister wanted me to do it. Ah. What chilling words they are, enough to scare the bejasus out of Jason and his Argonauts.
Neither law nor justice is at work here, but the clinical assessment of lawyers of how much more can be extracted from the system - on this occasion, the "system" being a wretched footballer in the twilight of his career.
But all this is happening in Britain: what's the relevance to us? This. Common law jurisdictions imitate one another, especially in matters of litigation - the word which makes lawyers weep tears of purest joy: gravy everywhere, like dung in an abattoir. Shameless lust for legal fees has driven the litigation juggernaut throughout the common law world: thus doctors are now utterly unable to insure themselves against the hunting-packs of lawyers that bay ravenously outside every maternity ward and operating theatre. And the Appeal Court ruling in London will be the minimum benchmark for future confiscations against men, with the only direction being upward: ruination, Parlour-made.