IT’S intriguing how we view the power of personality. With no racing to entertain us in Britain last weekend, there were probably many more people than normal tuning into to Nick Luck’s magazine show on RacingTV on Sunday, and the highlight for many was the debate between Luck and racing legend Michael Dickinson on the subject of dirt racing.

The discussion was reminiscent of a boxing match, with the combatant’s former sparring partners who knew each other’s moves, but with Luck playing the role of contender to Dickinson’s assured and cunning champion. It soon became clear that the champ wasn’t going to give his opponent any quarter, his continual use of the phrase “Boy Wonder” as effective as any jab, and calculated to cause Luck to lose his composure.

The younger man, to his credit, kept his cool under extreme pressure, and landed a couple of significant blows. Dickinson’s smile disappeared once or twice, but not for long, and his absolute belief in his agenda saw most ringside judges calling it an easy points victory for former Master of Harewood.

I scored it differently, though; Dickinson projects a mesmerising mix of diffident charm and steely conviction. He can be softly spoken, but he isn’t at all soft and he knows how to utilise the force of his argument, not just in his careful and sometimes cynical choice of words, but in his own physicality.

Most people were of the opinion that he gave his opponent a battering, but that is largely because he played the part to perfection, seeking to belittle the other man at times rather than outfighting him, and convincing the audience that he had won by carrying himself that way.

It was enthralling TV, made so by the presenter’s willingness to slug it out with a big hitter, and a draw was a fair result. That said, some of the facts quoted might be open to different interpretation after the event, and I’d certainly pay to watch a rematch.

SEMINAL FIGURE

For many of us of a certain age, Michael Dickinson is the seminal figure (along with Martin Pipe) in British jump racing. His achievements in what was a short training career in Yorkshire were phenomenal, and everyone knows the basic story of his achievement in saddling the first five home in the 1983 Gold Cup, having provided the first and second with two runners the previous year. His Famous Five rather masked his other tremendous feat in the 1982/83 season, when he produced 120 winners under National Hunt Rules from just 42 horses to represent his yard.

Those who observed him on this period of his career will tell you that he was utterly single-minded in his quest for perfection to the exclusion of all else, and that obsession was rewarded with achievements which may never be equalled. It struck me watching his appearance on television, that his character has always been the same, and while his goals are different now as he promotes the benefits of Tapeta as the racing surface of the future, his method remains steadfast despite what others may say.

It’s easy to put someone like Michael Dickinson on a pedestal, and wax lyrical about how he dominated the parochial jumping scene over three decades ago, and it’s also not difficult to take pot-shots at him given his strident attitude against dirt racing and medication.

Did he not use medication himself when enjoying success in the States with Da Hoss and Tapit? Is dirt racing any more dangerous than jump racing, for which he still retains his old fondness? Is he not twisting figures because he is now a businessman with a product to sell?

These are all discomfiting questions, and it’s right that they are posed, but the truth, as we have seen in British political debate in recent days, is that trying to boil the complexities of a character like Dickinson to something which can be labelled either hero or villain according to our own world view is to debase the argument completely.

Strong characters effect change, and understanding as much as we can about what drives them is an education, whether or not we feel they deserve unstinting praise. Too much of what we see or hear is one-dimensional and only useful to reinforce already-held biases, and last week’s televisual treat was a reminder that robust debate conducted with knowledge and respect is a much more uplifting experience than what we are too often served up.