Skip to main content

The latest front in the culture war - wildlife documentaries?

Anyone with even a passing acquaintance with the internet will have noticed its tendency to get a bit het up about the slightest of things. The ability to broadcast and respond instantly isn't really conducive to reasoned debate, but it is handy to glean an idea of how people really think and feel. By its very instant nature it can lend itself to moments where someone says what they really think, perhaps being unaware what that reveals about them.

Take, for example, climate change. That's pretty much a done deal, right? Nobody reputable's questioning that any more, right? I mean, plenty of people are questioning it, but nobody, you know, bright. Only the terminally dense or those with financial skin in the game are truly, publicly doubting the veracity of the Anthropocene. And so, it follows, that it's a subject which generates a reasonable deal of consensus.

Now, the heart-warming, eye-popping, awe-inspiring, this-is-what-you-pay-your-licence-fee-for-and-don't-you-forget-it nature documentaries of Sir David Attenborough were, for a long time, subject to a fair degree of criticism by environmentalists, as for many years they skirted round the issue. Maybe offering the odd hint that all wasn't as it should be but, as a general rule, not scaring the Sunday evening horses.

A few years ago, Sir David decided that this approach wasn't cutting the mustard, and started to use his platform to make explicit the link between the dealings of humans and the destruction of habitat and changing of climate. Reasonable enough, one might think, it's too easy to think everything in the garden is rosy, and the odd reminder that it isn't probably isn't the worst idea. Programmes about the natural world need to acknowledge that humanity's headlong rush towards consumerism has serious consequences for the world as a whole.

Unless, of course, you're Daily Mail Columnist Sarah Vine, who tweeted intemperately after watching Perfect Planet, a programme which is explicitly about the planet we live on and all the forces that act upon it. 

Tuned in to watch a bit of david Attenborough but am now being subjected to propaganda. Yes, I know: humanity is an evil plague on the planet. But can I just look at some elephants please? #PerfectPlanet

 Poor old David Attenborough, he can't bloody win, can he?

Now, there's a fair bit to unpack here. What, precisely, did she expect from it? The trailers have made it pretty clear what it's about. Then there's the dismissive "yes I know" which implies she means anything but. But the biggest give-way here was the word "propaganda". As if telling the truth is now akin to trying to brainwash people.

I know we live in a post-truth age, but it's slightly surprising to see reportage by one of the world's most highly respected broadcasters described in such a manner, as though Attenborough were Leni Riefenstahl. Perhaps I shouldn't be surprised by this linen from a woman whose husband, Michael Gove, routinely vets Freedom of Information requests, only granting them to newspapers he deems friendly, and once refused to answer questions from a C4 news reporter by saying that he was pursuing "a left-wing agenda". But having got used to this sort of truth-twisting from HMG, it's still a bit of a shock to see it applied to someone as unimpeachable as Sir David.

The replies, as is so often the case, were eyebrow-raising and instructive. Some called for a "balanced argument" as if the debate were still a live thing. One complained of "being lectured at for being alive." All told, there was a palpable sense of grievance that the BBC were screening something showing the world as it is, not as the respondents would wish it to be.

This ostrich tendency is, I think, one of the things most hampering the movement towards a zero emission world. This bunch of snowflakes had a fit of pearl-clutching at the mildest suggestion that they might need to alter their lifestyle a little, and their first instinct was to lash out. At David. Attenborough. Copper-bottomed, Navy-Strength, certified national treasure Sir David Attenborough. 

Because there aren't any easy ways out of this mess, no matter how much dishonest politicians like to pretend that there is. It will involve a change of lifestyle. Less driving, less red meat, less flying, less new stuff. Reduce, reuse, recycle. But the second that gets brought up the entitled whining babies that make up a significant proportion of our population throw their (plastic) toys right out of the pram. 

More curiously, Vine, who despite all appearances to the contrary, isn't stupid, must have known what the programme was about. Watching it and then complaining about it is a bit like watching It's a Sin and then saying "I don't mind the gays, but why do they have to flaunt it?" It smacks of spoiling for a fight, and at a time when the BBC is being assailed on all sides by the cultural barbarians who make up the majority of the right-wing press, Vine's jibes are on-brand, opening up yet another front in the forever war between public service and those who seek to monetise everything. Why shouldn't the programme just be a parade of lovely elephants? It's only lefties who think that they're going to die out. Maybe you could put some of them in hats, that'd be nice. That's what they'd do on Disney plus, and at a reasonable price, too.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Creepy old men

I note, somewhat wearily, that creepy old men are back in the news, being creepy. Creepy old men, and their apologists and enablers, who argue that their creepiness is somehow the natural order of things. Old men would have you believe that it is difficult to not be a creepy old man. That it is a task of epic proportions. It is not that difficult. It is a matter of intention. As yet more of the grimness of Epstein unfolds, creepy old men are, sadly, a flaccid topic once again. Whether it be pursuing students thirty years their junior, or simply not asking too many questions about the background of the probably legal young woman who you've just been introduced to by your good pal Jeff. To be clear, I am not referring to criminal creepy old men, the ones who actually committed statutory rape, the ones who fucked trafficked hirls. That is not something which is allowed to get away merely with the contempt of the observer.  That deserves prison.  No , I'm referring to the hinterla...

Inedible

"He says it's inedible" said my front of house manager, as she laid the half-eaten fish and chips in front of me, and instantly I relaxed.  Clearly, I observed, it was edible to some degree. I comped it, because I can't be arsed arguing the toss, and I want to make my front of house's lives as simple as possible. The haddock had been delivered that morning. The fryers had been cleaned that morning. The batter had been made that morning (and it's very good batter, ask me nicely and I'll give you the recipe some time). The fish and chips was identical to the other 27 portions I'd sent out on that lunch service, all of which had come back more or less hoovered up, we have have a (justified, if I do say so myself) very good reputation for our chips. But it was, apparently, "inedible". When it comes to complaints, less is more. If you use a hyperbolic word like that, I'll switch off, you've marked yourself as a rube, a chump, I'm not g...

The daftest complaint I ever had

I have written here several times down the years about customer complaints, both justified and idiotic. Working in hospitality they are an ineivitability. No matter how good you are, how consistent, you will get complaints. Very few of them stick in the memory, but some, by virtue of their extreme idiocy, do. And one popped into my mind as I was plating up a dish this lunchtime, and I thought, why not, it's as good a thing to write a blog about as any. It's also an entertaining example of how events can play out in ways you may not expect at the time. It sticks in the mind as it combined stupidity with a petty malice and venality which leaves me with no qualms about taking the piss out of it publicly. I rarely let bad reviews lie, if I feel they're unfair I might demur, if I feel they're reasonable I'll make a point of apologising. If they're stupid I'll take pleasure in replying very politely. This one got ignored. It happened on a Sunday, which is another ...