Farewell Michael, a warm-hearted, self-deprecating friend like no other
WHO is Michael Mosley? This is the punchline of a joke Michael was telling me last week over dinner at the Hay festival. He was aware of the fragile and transient nature of TV popularity that for him had lasted several decades and saw no signs of fading.
I first met Michael about 20 years ago and we hit it off. He interviewed me for a TV documentary at St Thomas’ Hospital on ageing. He was unlike other TV presenters of the time, always bringing the most out of the material with practical experiments, usually on himself.
Over the next few years, we did a few science and health programmes together and then met at a New Year’s drinks party in 2013 just after his book on the 5:2 diet had come out. He was very modest and said he was rather shocked it was a bestseller as his previous science books had flopped.
Recipes and other self-help books followed and with his GP wife, Clare Bailey, he helped thousands of people with Type 2 diabetes come off their drugs and realise the importance of food and exercise rather than relying on medicine. Many people with diabetes such as the ex-labour MP Tom Watson regard him as their hero.
We performed several times on stage and it was always fun and unplanned. Last year at the Hay festival we recorded a live Just One Thing for the BBC about the benefits of a diverse plant diet and he went wildly off script which kept everyone on their toes.
As Michael admitted, his wife Clare, who had the cooking skills and also the diabetes knowledge from treating patients for over 20 years, was essential to his success. Together they were an amazing team with complimentary skills. Clare generally prevented him doing anything “too daft”. But he did crazy stuff anyway, from eating tapeworms, to long-term fasts, to ice baths and staying awake for days on end.
He was upset that the BBC and Channel 4 had said he couldn’t do any more cold-water stunts because the insurance was becoming too high. Our last ski trip together he was as usual, going far too fast and crashed hurting his back, but after a brief rest was back on the slopes, as eager as ever.
I think this combination of recklessness and his humble, calm and self-deprecating style as he carefully explained complex science in simple terms was why the public loved him. We also loved when he didn’t always do it perfectly himself. He was far from perfect and never ran marathons (he hated running) or had big muscles and a six-pack and he was constantly battling with pre-diabetes and his weight, as he confessed to having an appetite like a labrador.
He suffered from insomnia and never managed to find a cure for that, although must have tried hundreds of remedies; He did tell me recently that deep breathing exercises did now sometimes help him get back to sleep. He was probably kept awake by a brain that didn’t stop whirring and coming up with new plans and ideas.
Despite his extrovert on-stage persona, Michael was quite shy and took time to know well. When you did you found a warm-hearted and committed friend. He was immensely proud of his four children and they kept him grounded and will be devastated that he left them so soon.
What I will miss most about Michael is not just his friendship and generosity but his amazing positivity. However grim things might look, the message was don’t just complain about the health service, or bemoan your luck, there was always “just one thing” you could do yourself to improve the situation. I think that’s a pretty good legacy.
We’ll miss you, Michael