Are our leaders torturers? It's a serious question. Of course no-one in the Government sanctions torture. And torture is not carried out on our soil or in our name.

But the response to the allegations that Britain may be co-operating with the US in the movement of terrorist suspects to countries where they may be tortured is worrying.

The operation of the flights themselves is neither confirmed nor denied. Tony Blair's response in Parliament when questioned about the use of "British airports'' was a classic of political slipperiness: "In respect of airports, I don't know what you are referring to.'' Anywhere with a runway, Tony, will that do?

More crucially, answers to the main allegation, of association with torture, which has also arisen over evidence gleaned in other countries against terrorist suspects held here, always begin with strong emphasis on the "war'' against terrorism, and the Government's duty to keep Britain, and the world, as safe as possible for its citizens. The denials of involvement in torture follow.

If we truly cherish the values that put torture completely beyond the pale, absolute assurances that we have nothing to do with it, even by remotest proxy, should come first. That has so far been conspicuously lacking - and why I ask the question at the head of this piece. And for as long as the slightest suspicion remains that we could be implicated, our moral authority to condemn repressive regimes is compromised.

As Tony Blair reiterated in his first House of Commons Question Time exchanges with the Tories' new leader David Cameron, his education policy rests on giving schools freedom.

Strange, then, that while this mantra is endlessly repeated, ever-more interference seems to come from Mr Blair's direction.

Earlier this month the Government ordered that the teaching of reading must revert to what used to be called phonetics, now clumsily re-dressed as "synthetic phonics''. This week the Government has thought fit to advise schools to protect children from the "terrifying'' Father Christmas. They are already grappling with eight guidance documents issued last month urging them to teach children how to "explore their emotions''.

With every instruction of this kind a school's ability to set its own agenda, and the scope for any brilliant teacher to do things their way, is reduced.

Out of school and among the babies now. A charity called The National Literacy Trust believes the speech development of infants could be held back by - the front-facing pushchair.

The Trust's Liz Attenborough says: "With the introduction of the buggy in the 1970s, where the child faced away from the parent for the first time, fundamental time spent on practising to speak has been lost.''

Here's news for Liz. The pushchair in which my wife and I propelled our three kids from 1961 onwards was a front-facing model - Cumfifolda. Did it stem the flow of prattle? Well, when our first-born was about 18 months old, a shop assistant asked of her: "Does she ever shut up?''

Incidentally, the Cumfifolda, robust enough to be pushed up mountain tracks, was infinitely superior to its successor, the wobbly-wheeled MacLaren, and others of its type, that still hold sway. Now pushing our third grandkid, our perpetual cry is "bring back the Cumfifolda''.