Do clubs matter? Yes, to their members, and clearly to those they exclude. When Alexis de Tocqueville compared American democracy with British, he said America’s roots were in the mob and Britain’s in the club. Americans vote for a president who doesn’t sit in Congress. Britons vote for a member of parliament, a tight-knit Westminster club.
The revived argument over London’s Garrick Club would have been music to De Tocqueville’s ears. Here we go again, a gang of London elitists ruling the land from a Covent Garden palace untainted by plebs or women. And this in the 21st century. Give us a break.
Places where those of like mind can meet and enjoy each other’s company are valuable. They enrich leisure and guard against loneliness. As guilds, lodges and associations, they exist in every community – including some for men and women separately. London’s clubs are a case in point. The Garrick, where I am a member, is not some fiendish hotbed of influence. Its average age is about 70 and those who frequent it are overwhelmingly retired. In my view, it cannot be regarded as a significant centre of power, but rather a good place to eat and entertain. It is popular and certainly livelier than traditional clubland haunts.
The Garrick was named after the actor David Garrick, as the club for London’s theatrical and arts community. Its “affinity” was no different from the military clubs’ exclusion of certain classes of soldier or the university clubs’ restriction to Oxbridge. All originally excluded women. Many clubs such as Brooks’s, Boodle’s, the Travellers and the Savile continue this exclusion of women, or exclusion of men in the case of the University Women’s. The Savile kept its cool in 2017 when it allowed a member to stay after they transitioned to become a woman. Margaret Thatcher was made a member of the men-only Carlton Club in 1975, largely because no one dared exclude her.
What makes the Garrick different – and has attracted media attention – is that some of its members are prominent in public affairs, including, apparently, the king. He is not known to have used the club. Membership seems to confer networking power beyond its walls. In particular, the Garrick has long been favoured by senior lawyers, with a profusion of senior judges. The judiciary is a largely self-governing profession and many lawyers – not only women – have come to regard membership as divisive and potentially a kind of freemasonry. Earlier this week a number of judges were pressed into resigning. It is within the legal world these concerns are concentrated. I really do not think such a charge could be directed at other professions at the club. It is merely absurd, not career-damaging, that Stephen Fry can belong to the Garrick, but not Judi Dench.
In truth, the Garrick’s problem over women attracts publicity because, unlike the other all-male clubs, it contains a large number of progressive members who want women in and who have been fighting for it for years. In the last two votes on women, in 2015 and last autumn, a clear majority was in favour, but the rules stated that two-thirds was required to carry. Legal opinion has since been sought, and it is plain that there is no actual rule opposing female members. There is therefore no rule that has to be changed. The membership committee can simply allow women to join.
I feel strongly that any association of citizens in a free society should be allowed to hold its own opinions and make its own rules, from political parties to London clubs. But for me, the exclusion of women from havens of civilised conversation and debate is the opposite of liberal. It is out of date and wrong.
In the case of the Garrick, this is not a purely private matter. The club has become a symbolic institution on London’s cultural scene, its exclusivity a practice that should long ago have ended. The majority of its members clearly want that discrimination to end. I sense it is about to happen. I look forward to celebrating it.
Simon Jenkins is a Guardian columnist
