From electoral comedy in Clacton to academic farce in Cambridge. We can be grateful for one thing. Count Binface did not apply for a Cambridge chair. If he had - God knows.

Suppose an aspirant author had approached a publisher or a literary agent with an idea for a novel about university appointments, based on Jason Arday. It is unlikely that whoever received it would have read many pages before summoning the writer. 'Before you ever again put finger to keyboard, would you first look up the word 'verisimilitude' and ponder its meaning. Now take this rubbish away.'

But there is a difference. That would have been the fate of a work of fiction. The Arday affair actually happened.

I almost feel sorry for ex-Professor Arday. He looks even younger than his 37 years. So what on earth were the grown-ups doing? His curriculum vitae should not have withstood five minutes' scrutiny. One assumes that he was lulled into the belief that he could say whatever he wanted and simply be greeted with applause. I do not know what will happen to him now. Someone should have saved him from himself.

Apart from providing material for incredulous laughter, the Arday nonsense could bring two benefits. First, it will encourage a healthy scepticism about sociology. There have been serious sociologists. Durkheim, Max Weber, Talcott Parsons, George Gilder: all added to the sum of thought and knowledge. But there are others, a number of them French. Derrida, Foucault, Lacan; all unreadable, all combining pseudo-intellectuality and meretriciousness. Derrida was famous for deconstruction, a 'theory' which briefly infested literary studies. Taken to its logical conclusion, it should have destroyed that academic discipline, but there has been belated resistance.

Lesser-known figures could really be described as socialist-ologists. Their main goal is to find out why the working classes are failing in their historic duty, to bring about the socialist revolution.

But there is one sociological question which interests me. When the English set off for the football World Cup in 1966, they did so under the banner of the Union Jack. (Technically, that term should only be used at sea: on land, Union Flag, but no matter.) Back in 1966, if you had asked the average English fan: 'Why not the Cross of St George?' the reply would have been 'what's that?' So how did the Cross of St George migrate from the church steeple to white-van man's bonnet? Was it something to do with Scottish nationalism? I would like to know: a task for a sensible sociologist, in the hope that this is not entirely an oxymoron.

There is a further aspect to the Arday dégringolade. A journalist on the Times Higher Education Supplement did start to investigate, but was warned off by the police and virtually accused of racism. I am afraid that this confirms one's prejudice about too much current police procedure. The allegation is that in order to win promotion, it is no good showing that you have been a good thief-taker. Much wiser to boast about the number of seminars you have attended on sensitive policing requirements in a complex multi-racial society. Sound like an old-fashioned copper, and you will arouse suspicion. Sound like a jargon-ridden plod-ologist and a chief constable's baton awaits. If this is unfair, let the police authorities prove it.

The Cambridge authorities also have some proving to do. What about declaring that in future, redoubled efforts will be made to ensure that all appointments at whatever level will be made on merit and that there will be no discrimination, either negative or positive. As for DEI, it should stand for dunce-hood and educational idiocy.

If Cambridge and some police forces need to be reinforced in all that, the Conservative party should rush to their assistance. After all, the Tory leader is perfectly positioned to make those points, as forcefully as is necessary.