Wolverhampton Conservative Councillor Jonathan Yardley writes in the Daily Mail

1.36.39pm BST (GMT +0100) Tue 7th Apr 2009

Wolverhampton Conservative Councillor Jonathan Yardley (Tettenhall Regis ward) recently got a talking to by the Police after an allegation of homophobia (which in fact he should have been accused of transphobia but there you go) has given his side of the story in the Daily Mail.

I am sure Councillor Jonathan Yardley will find some support in the 'Conservative' Daily Mail, but surely it is now in his best interest to keep quiet? After all the whole homophobia/transphobia incident has led to questions being raised by the local Wolverhampton Express and Star newspaper asking about his allowances after he hasn't been to a Wolverhampton City council meeting in two months due to illness and living in Plymouth (not quite where you would expect to find a Wolverhampton Conservative Councillor!)

Anyway here is what Councillor Jonathan Yardley wrote for the Daily Mail:

My PC lecture from police on how to tell a joke - and why it makes me fear for our society

By Jonathan Yardley, Wolverhampton City Councillor

As I walked to my local police station I felt anxious and puzzled. It was a journey I'd taken many times, as the Wolverhampton city councillor in charge of liaising with officers.

But this time the tables were turned. I was about to be questioned about that most modern of offences: homophobia.

I certainly didn't want to be at that interview and neither, I suspect, did the police. I'm sure they would rather have been catching criminals. That they could not do so is worrying for British society and the future of policing.

I'd decided to become a Conservative councillor after my father died at New Cross Hospital, Wolverhampton. He'd contracted MRSA following an otherwise successful operation for cancer. At the same time, my daughter was refused a place at the local primary school and my house was burgled.

All three things are, sadly, commonplace. In a modest way, I wanted to make a difference. After being elected in 2003, I hauled New Cross's then chief executive before the council's health scrutiny board demanding he clean up his hospital.

After the Tories gained power in Wolverhampton, I was given responsibility for neighbourhoods, and my portfolio included working with police. Among my duties, I attend meetings organised by the city's Chief Supt Richard Green so residents can discuss policing and air any grievances.

Last October we were on the panel for just such an event at the civic centre. To get an idea of the people who come along and what they think, wi-fi handsets are issued. These are similar to those given to the Who Wants To Be A Millionaire? audience, although ours have only two buttons.

To test the handsets, we asked our audience to press A if they were male or B if they were female.

To general amusement, someone said: 'What if you're transgendered?' Amid much laughter I suggested they could press A and B simultaneously. It was taken in good spirit, and no one objected at the time, certainly not the officers.

That all changed later in the week, when Chief Supt Green told me: 'There's going to be a formal complaint about the joke you made.'

I was shocked. It turned out that the person who had asked about transgendered people was at the meeting with his partner, a man dressed as a woman.

Later I had a phone call from the sergeant at Tettenhall station, the nearest to my home. He is an excellent officer with whom I've worked to bring down our local crime figures. He said I needed to attend the station to discuss my 'offence'.

With him at the station was an inspector whose patch included the civic centre where the 'offence' had taken place. Interestingly, they told me the objection had not come from the transsexual man or his partner.

They then described what they thought I had said, but their version was inaccurate. I think this was deliberate - to test my reaction, to see how truthful and precise I was. After all, the chief superintendent had been there and knew exactly what happened. I then gave them every tiny detail.

They questioned whether I was homophobic or whether I had malign thoughts about transgendered people. I assured them I did not.

One of them told me he had gone on a course with transsexuals to learn about their lifestyle. It was like walking on eggshells, he said: they were constantly looking for an angle to file a complaint against him.

The officers then pointed out that if anyone complained under anti-homophobia legislation, the police had to investigate. If they didn't, the case could be referred to the Independent Police Complaints Commission, and then the police themselves would be investigated.

I'm a Wolves fan and at soccer matches it's not unusual for derogatory remarks to fly between rival supporters. I suspect most games could produce at least 20,000 complaints for police to investigate.

'This is ridiculous,' I said.

'It's just a sign of the times,' replied the officers.

The inspector then described what I could and couldn't say in public. The full absurdity of the situation was dawning on me: a police inspector was giving me a lesson in comedy.

The meeting lasted two hours and the resulting paperwork probably took just as long. I was neither arrested nor charged and in the end no formal complaint was ever made.

I still feel angry. Tettenhall is affluent but, like many towns, suffers from yobbery, car crime and burglary. It hardly needs saying that police resources should be focusing on these instead.

Of course, I never set out to cause offence. My joke was in the English camp tradition that gently uses humour to smooth over tricky situations. It was no more than that.

We all have to show a little tolerance. Those who know me will have noticed I have little hair. Over the years, I've suffered jokes about baldness, but it's never worried me.

The most disturbing aspect of my 'offence' is that the objection did not come from the person supposedly offended. I never found out who was behind it, but believe it was probably political mischief-making.

As a councillor, I've enjoyed a great relationship with the police, and I'm determined this incident won't sully that good work.

On the other hand, I'll still try to ease my colleagues' daily lives with gentle humour. And we'll have to change the buttons on those handsets. Two aren't enough. We'll need seven or eight to cover all sexual orientations.