There’s something more poignant about the death of Ed Stourton, which was announced today, than the passing of a decent man. He was that of course, but what I’ll miss especially is the silencing of a mellifluous broadcasting voice, that of an educated and civilised Englishman.

Stourton, who was 68, was famously cut by the bigwigs of the BBC’s Today programme in 2008

Stourton, who was 68, was famously cut by the bigwigs of the BBC’s Today programme in 2008, making space for more women, more regional accents, and the less posh, after ten years in the programme. But he was really good at the job. He cut to the chase; he ignored the superficialities. He was genial but merciless in identifying the main point at issue and pursuing it. He was intelligent, and without being anything but courteous, could make clear when an interviewee was being inadequate or evasive. He never talked about himself unless he had to. He kept himself, in fact, out of the picture, because that’s what a good presenter does. Compare and contrast etc.

And, let me say it, he had a lovely voice, the kind you once could expect of the BBC. You looked forward to listening to him; he was very easy on the ear and his diction was distinct and articulate, his accent civilised. In an age when we equate sincerity with being blokish and geniality with over-familiarity, he was a reminder that it’s possible to keep your distance as a presenter while being on the listener’s side. He was a large man physically, and that confidence conveyed itself in the way he wouldn’t get rattled or intimidated. He really was one of the best; he put in the work for his interviews and subjected the programme to incisive analysis afterwards.

I last met him at the Archbishop of Canterbury’s drinks party. He was lamenting the latest round of cuts at the BBC and thinking, with the announcement of the cull of lead presenters, that this would have included him. But he was amusing about his public school voice, recalling that Lord Reith actually liked having broadcasters with distinct regional accents.

He minded being sacked from Today, but was marvellous as presenter of the Sunday programme. He was a Catholic, notwithstanding his personal life, but he never let that influence his broadcasting other than to make him more informed, less superficial on questions of religion. He had been head boy of Ampleforth and a Benedictine formation never leaves you.

He was quite open about his prognosis, which he told me when we were leaving the BBC studio after I’d been on the Sunday programme with him – something about Pope Francis. I said, only half in jest, that he should make sure and have regular confession. He knew exactly what I meant. But when I saw him last and he said he didn’t have more than a few programmes left, I said, as before, to be sure and make a good confession.

“I can’t”, he said. His situation was what used to be called by the Church “irregular” in that he had left his wife for his present wife, now widow, Fiona, which meant the sacraments were barred to him.

I said in that case, he should simply make sure he made one last good confession before he died (on his deathbed he wouldn’t have a problem). “I think I shall do that”, he said.

I hope he did. Requiescas in pace, Ed.