I can’t possibly give a full account of my encounter with Howard Marks in Oxford on Thursday evening, as you can't take notes on a debate when you're taking part in it, but I thought readers might appreciate a few notes on the event. First, I should explain how it is we came to be debating. Mr Marks and I first met on a windy evening in Blackpool more than ten years ago, when we were both speaking at a National Union of Students event, on drug laws, in the vast and rather lovely Winter Gardens. It was quite a big meeting and we were having quite a lot of fun arguing when some commissar from the NUS marched on to the stage, switched off my microphone and told me I had to leave. When I asked why he told me that I surely already knew. I said I had no idea. I then foghorned my protest to the hall, not needing the microphones, and rose rather angrily to go. Howard (as I have ever since called him) behaved magnificently. He scooped up his notes, took me by the arm in a very friendly way and said ‘Well, if he’s going, I’m going too!’
