I hate name-droppers. Anyway, in the 1990s, writer Salman Rushdie came to New Zealand and had dinner with my mum and other New Zealand writers, including my then stepfather Maurice Shadbolt. They were told to arrive at a restaurant to meet an unnamed guest, and tell no-one. Life for the author of The Satanic Verses was one spent in hiding following the fatwa of the Ayatollah of Iran calling on Muslims to kill him, along with all those ‘’involved in the publication’’ of the novel. Last weekend, Rushdie's luck outrunning the 40-year fatwa ended.

The common principle of Rushdie’s critics is that if you offend someone’s beliefs then you are at least partly in the wrong, and so threats are somewhat excused. Giving offence justifies violence. It is monstrous position. Words are not violence. Violence is violence.

Being prepared to offend is how we progress. You cannot tell people that the Earth orbits the sun when centuries of status and identity depends on forcing everyone to agree that the sun goes around the Earth. Usually, offensive views are simply offensive. But sometimes, occasionally, they are Galileo. How are you going to tell truth-tellers from the bad mannered? Who is going to make the call about which is which? Ayatollahs? A panel of expert judges appointed by the government and clergy of the day?

Fear of giving offence is causing writer JK Rowling to be cancelled. ‘It causes columnists like me to pause before defending her right to have her say. Fear of violence and fear of offence might prevent The Satanic Verses being published today. Cancelled, it would avoid offending anyone. We would be deprived of the right to decide the book’s merits for ourselves.

Josie's defence of Salman Rushdie in Stuff is here.