Richard Sharp, of Oxford, Goldman Sachs and now the BBC, had a patrician air to him as he sat facing Parliament’s Culture Select Committee. Don’t you know who I am, he seemed to be asking. This was, as it happened, very much the question, because committee members feel that when they approved him as chairman of the nation’s broadcaster, there were one or two rather important things about him that had been overlooked.

Blyth and Sharp were, at the time, applying for jobs that were in the gift of the government

They relate, inevitably, to the man who appointed him, the part-time author, occasional MP and full-time scandal machine, Boris Johnson. In one of those tales that only makes sense when you remember that it involves the nation’s biggest problem family, Sharp introduced Johnson’s cousin, Sam Blyth, to the Cabinet Secretary, Simon Case, so that they could discuss the best way for the very rich Blyth to help the cash-strapped Johnson meet his decorating bills.

Unfortunately, in a stroke of bad luck for all concerned, it turns out that both Blyth and Sharp were, at the time, applying for jobs that were in the gift of the government. Some people — cynical people who constantly see the worst in honest Borises — think this all looks fishy. Other people — stuck-up prudes of the type who are probably very little fun at parties — think that Sharp should have mentioned this when he was applying for the BBC job.

Sharp had come — he said several times how very happy he was to be with us — to set those people straight. “I’ve never given financial advice to the former prime minister,” he opened. It was a phrase he used more than once, and each time he did so I was reminded of the disclaimer that people use when they’re about to advise you on your finances, but want to make it clear they accept no responsibility for the consequences of following their suggestions. Which are very much not suggestions.

All Sharp had done, he insisted, was put Blyth in contact with Case. “You acted as a sort of introduction agency,” suggested Damian Green, the committee chairman. “Exactly,” replied Sharp, then paused. “Well, I ensured that due process was followed.”

We had to understand, Sharp reminded us, what a period of national emergency this all was, what with all the death and the lockdowns and the economic crisis. Blyth had been “concerned” that Johnson should “focus on the job”, he said. To which we can all say Amen.

The committee was unimpressed

Green asked why, if Sharp had never given Johnson financial advice, Case had felt moved to write to Johnson to tell him to stop seeking financial advice from Sharp. “I’ve never given the prime minister advice, he’s never sought it, I know nothing about his personal financial affairs,” replied Sharp, a happier man than those of us who’ve had the misfortune to read all the stories about how poor Boris was on his absolute uppers, down to his last fiver, and hoping for a postal order from his cousin any day now. According to Sharp, the memo referred to civil service efforts to stop Johnson from trying to call him to get advice. “That’s an interesting reading,” replied Green, drily.

“I had no interest in providing him financial advice,” continued Sharp, clearly a man who knows a lost cause when he sees one. “Our relationship is broadly professional,” he said, though there can only be a limited extent to which that’s ever true where Johnson is concerned. “I didn’t facilitate a loan.” Although he did let Johnson know that he was putting Blyth in touch with Case. Not, to be clear, that Johnson should have felt in any way obliged to Sharp over that. It was just the sort of favour one professional fellow does for another professional fellow.

The committee was unimpressed. “You knew what the score was and you didn’t tell us about it,” said the SNP’s John Nicolson, who was furiously angry. “The loan wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t done what you did.” Sharp, icy cool, replied that he couldn’t speculate on what might or might not have happened. He had spoken to Case because he’d been anxious to avoid impropriety. Case had, according to Sharp, decided that the best way to avoid anyone thinking there was anything untoward about this was to keep very quiet about it. Which was certainly one approach.

It was all marvellously instructive about how things work among top people. Sharp hadn’t facilitated a loan, he’d just introduced a chap to another chap. He’d never given the prime minister advice on his finances, but he’d let him know that he was putting chaps in touch. At one point, in a marvellous slip, he referred to another troubled Johnson appointment as “Lord Dacre”. The Daily Mail supremo is currently still plain old “Mr”, but perhaps patronage, like other things, is only a matter of dates.

“It’s all a bit banana republic,” observed Nicolson. This sort of thing would never happen in the SNP’s Scotland. Their parliamentary committees are much better behaved, for a start.

Labour’s Kevin Brennan asked why Sharp had been involved at all. “Why didn’t you say: ‘You’re a member of his family?’” he asked. Sharp went a bit quiet at that point.

Overall, though, he was mystified by all the interest. “A fair and reasonable person could see that what I was trying to do was ensure that due process was followed,” he said. Although they couldn’t, because Case decided it would be best if all this was kept quiet, away from prying fair and reasonable eyes.

Sharp — would it be premature to call him “Lord Sharp”? — though responsible for the nation’s biggest news organisation, had fairly and reasonably decided not to mention the prime minister’s fair and reasonable private loan arrangement to anyone there. Ultimately, that’s not how chaps do things round here. Or round the House of Lords, either.