Torquil Xavier Dunn was born in 1948, the only son of Sir Archibald Neville Maximilian Toobey-Cien-Toobey-Dunn and Lady Hortense Kneedes. He was educated at Dotheboys Hall and Brasencheek College, Oxford, where he chose to specialise in Human Rights Law. He was called to the Bar in 1977, which he found most upsetting as he had to settle a monumental slate accumulated during his student days. Dunn quickly rose to the top of his profession, aided by his fierce advocacy style, his compendious and incisive knowledge of the minutiae of the British constitution, and his father�s position in the House of Lords.
Now a High Court Judge, with an instinctive understanding of the lives of ordinary men and women, Justice Kneedes-Toobey-Cien-Toobey-Dunn (or Justice Dunn, as he modestly prefers to be known) takes his place as the latest in a long line of respected Beacon columnists. We wish him well.
It was on Monday morning that I fully appreciated the rapid rate at which modern communication can take place, after an embarrassing but amusing incident. On my arrival at court, I realized that I had left a vital page of my summing-up speech on my desk at home. I clearly could not adjourn the hearing � it would have cost thousands of pounds in taxpayers� money.
Even if my car had been roadworthy, it would still have taken a good three hours or so for my wife to drive to London to deliver it to me. I was outlining the predicament to the court when one of the barristers profoundly shocked me by saying, �Fucks it up, my lord.� Frankly appalled by such obscene language, I immediately ruled him in contempt and cleared the court.
It was only later in the morning that my secretary took me aside and explained that the poor chap had been referring to some method of sending printed pages via the telephone network.
Will I ever come to grips with this new technology?
I only recently acquired a mobile telephone, as I was so overwhelmed by the sheer complexity of the models on sale. I freely admit that computers are totally beyond me, and I rely on my secretary�s skill in this department to see to my administration.
Even my trusty manual typewriter, which has served me well ever since my student days, gave up the ghost last month. I was forced to replace it with an electronic version, which is a lot quieter than my old one, and seems to do everything except make the tea.
My car had to go in for repair a few weeks ago, so for the first time in some years I travelled to London by train.Things had changed enormously since my last journey. The train was smooth, comfortable, air-conditioned, clean and � believe it or not � on time.
In spite of the horror stories one reads in the newspapers, and notwithstanding the terrible events at Potters Bar, Selby, Ladbroke Grove and so forth, I am pleased to record that my journey left me relaxed and cheerful upon my arrival.