We all know, and everyone is commenting on, the moral meanderings of Mandelson. He borrowed money, he was indiscreet, he counselled, he cajoled, he gossiped about the great and good, he trifled with the lives of the rich and famous, he was a good friend of Jeffrey Epstein, he seems to have leaked privileged government information to a private individual. But I, for one, am not impressed. This is the small change of history. Nickels and dimes. Either bring charges: for instance, treason or attainder, or something: or be quiet. But no one wants to be quiet.

What is more interesting, then, is the attempt at damnatio memoriae, ‘the damnation of memory’, whereby Romans attempted to destroy the reputation of a dead emperor, or confirm after death the destruction of reputation the emperor had visited on himself when alive. Caesar? Deified on death. Caligula, Commodus, Elagabalus? Damned on death. Which meant absolute cancellation. Their names were effaced from inscriptions. It was cancellation cubed. We all talk about cancellation. But no one has tried – yet – to remove Rowling’s name from Harry Potter, Starkey’s name from Monarchy, Linehan’s name from the credits of Father Ted, or, God forbid, Toby Young’s name from How to Lose Friends and Alienate People.

Read More: The Damnatio Memoriae of Lord Mandelson