Jason Arday’s death is tragic. But please spare us the sanctimonious complaints that he was merely an ‘obscure’ academic who was the victim of a racist witch-hunt. The probing and questioning and exposure were entirely legitimate. Arday was plainly guilty of plagiarism. He had also made a series of fantastical claims about his life and career. He ended up being appointed as a professor at one of the world’s most august seats of learning – where his students, who had worked extremely hard to get there, were paying large fees for the privilege of being taught by him. Far from being obscure, Arday had happily engaged with the media over many years, often repeating his false claims. He appeared on numerous TV shows and guest edited Radio 4’s flagship Today programme. He even carried the Olympic torch. Moreover, he had secured a major publishing deal for his autobiography, which was set to be released in Britain and the US just as the scandal broke. By no measure was this man ‘obscure’. When a fellow academic in Plymouth began to question his credentials, Arday (or someone close to him) made a complaint to the police. When a journalist from Times Higher Education started investigating, he was subjected to a police inquiry and also received a threatening letter from the leading libel solicitors, Carter Ruck. Arday and those around him were clearly not averse to hounding others when they felt like it. It’s very possible that Arday did not have sufficient support measures in place when he was finally exposed – but that’s on others. The investigation and questions amounted to legitimate journalistic inquiry. This was never just about Arday’s fabulism. It was also about the increasingly controversial philosophy of DEI, the obsession of our political, corporate and educational institutions with pushing that philosophy, and how it might have led to someone with Arday’s subpar credentials being appointed in the first place. These are all valid questions to ask – and, by asking them, journalists are simply doing their jobs.