As it’s this time of year I began with Professional Security Magazine, let me reminisce for once, about a night 30 years ago, while a journalist, but before I joined the magazine.
The background is the latest message from the consultant in the specialist field of VIP safety, Philip Grindell, of Defuse Global, who remarked on the reported ‘red carpet intruder’ who ‘rushed’ the actress and singer Ariana Grande at a premiere of the film Wicked: For Good. Philip made the acute point about such ceremonies; that the red carpet gives an impression of control; which can bring the risk that those charged with securing the event get complacent. Philip also referenced the ‘glitter bombing’ of the Labour leader Sir Keir Starmer on stage at a Labour Party conference in 2023. While the protester did no more than throw glitter to gain publicity, another example we can add is the attempted assassination of the author Sir Salman Rushdie in New York that seriously injured him with a knife on stage in 2022. The list of political and cultural celebrities hurt or murdered by people allowed in close is long and melancholy.
In the ‘bubble’
To take a topical example of England versus Australia Ashes cricket, the trend is towards adding distance between the public and the sportsmen, which lessens the risk of trouble from outsiders. That’s quite apart from the maturing of the security function that has seen a security specialist generally attached to a tour and giving advice; and indeed the players don’t have a say in whether they want that distance. Once, England when touring Australia would be in the other country for the whole summer, and between international matches the tourists would play state sides, even ‘country’ elevens. The altogether more leisurely calendar gave opportunities for seeing the country; at the lesser games, the players could mingle; sign autographs. The 2025 England touring party has a round of hotels, practice, leisure (typically at access-controlled golf and country clubs) and drives to airports between fewer, televised high-intensity matches. To sum up, the players and their support staff are ‘in the bubble’, usually apart from the public and the press and prying eyes generally.
My story
A friend was a fan of Big Audio Dynamite, the band set up by the former Clash singer Mick Jones; about 30 years ago they were playing in Leeds and as I was living in York, he met me and we went to the concert. Afterwards, my friend knew that the band would let in fans back-stage. We had to wait a while, and some of those waiting sang an Inspiral Carpets song (one of those odd details that sticks in the memory). We were let in. With my journalistic hat on I got a few words from Mick Jones (he said smilingly, ‘as you can see, it’s very glamorous’, referring to the boxes of pizza lying around, that the band had eaten after the gig). Forty years before, my mother waited at the back of West End or regional theatres, to get programmes signed by the actors. Then as since, giving access to the public was the price that entertainers had to pay, willingly or not. Even then, a spectrum of interest in VIPs was catered for; for the less fanatic, or simply those less able to travel, VIPs might run ‘fan clubs’. By the 1990s, Mick Jones was unusual for keeping up the tradition of punk (if that is not a contradiction) of rejecting ‘us and them’ barriers. The internet and social media platforms have since made it possible for musicians and actors to become famous, partly by building online followings, without actually having to meet anyone, avoiding all the risks that the presence of strangers brings. Yet the wish for people to meet their heroes, let alone with malicious intent if they harbour irrational grudges, remains.
