My girlfriend stopped me from attacking Bell Pottinger CEO James Henderson in the loos at Ascot two weeks ago. She’s half-Swedish, half-Californian — and therefore Swiss when it comes to disputes. I brooded for a week after, lamenting a lost opportunity to see Henderson’s floppy hair stuck under my foot in the latrine as I repeatedly waved my hand in front of the flush sensor. The following week I loitered around key points at the Henley Regatta awaiting another opportunity. Alas, it did not arrive. I’ve been banging my head against the wall for the past 18 months because nobody in London was paying any attention to Bell Pottinger’s activities in SA. I’ve spoken to lawyers, journalists, politicians, senior public servants and two lords. The response, particularly from the liberal media, was an overwhelmingly tepid: "Oh, we know they are a mischievous lot, we have already profiled them." The more I heard this the more I got the feeling we were living in an age of stoning peasants, wh...

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