RICHARD FERNANDEZ: When You Can’t Take the High Hand.

The resignations underscore the violence of the impact. Interestingly, BBC director Tim Davies actually makes a version of the “fake but true” argument. In his resignation statement, Davies says, “I have to take ultimate responsibility [for lying but] … I am proud that the BBC remains the most trusted news brand globally.” But, alas, in “these febrile times” I have to go. “In these febrile times” is one of those wonderful British phrases that roughly translates to “in this lynch mob atmosphere where people are a-hootin’ and a-hollerin’ fer my scalp” and conveys his slightly wounded feeling of having been punished for what is no big deal. Or didn’t seem a big deal at the time. Because even if the documentary was fake, it was true. Davie’s concluding line — “I will always be a passionate cheerleader for civilised society” — is a proclamation of innocence. You would understand what I did and forgive it if you were civilized. And he would have a case if it were but an error among gentlemen sipping whiskey at a club. But it is also a confession of profound ignorance. Davies is the director of a great bureaucracy, and his careless handling of January 6, an event that some observers call a foundational rupture in American politics, is careless to the point of recklessness.

Unlike ordinary people, MI5, MI6 and the BBC have a duty that ordinary people can dispense with. They have to act with a solid appreciation of the situation, not out of morality but because it is their job to preserve the British state from the consequences of stupid mistakes.

Read the whole thing; though I don’t think many at the BBC care much about “preserving the British state,” and haven’t for quite some time.