Media Charlatans, Climate Hypocrites, Fashion Nonsense


                                                     Media

The Charlatan, unknown artist, 
Photo Credit: City of London Corporation [CC BY-NC]
…the more disgracefully you behave, the bigger the platform the media will give you. If you are caught lying, cheating, boasting or behaving like an idiot, you’ll be flooded with invitations to appear on current affairs programmes. If you play straight, don’t expect the phone to ring.

In an age of 24-hour news, declining ratings and intense competition, the commodity in greatest demand is noise. Never mind the content, never mind the facts: all that now counts is impact. A loudmouthed buffoon, already the object of public outrage, is a far more bankable asset than someone who knows what they are talking about. So the biggest platforms are populated by blusterers and braggarts. The media is the mirror in which we see ourselves. With every glance, our self-image subtly changes.

…My hope is that the tide will turn. People will become so sick of the charlatans and exhibitionists who crowd the airwaves that the BBC and other media will be forced to reconsider.

(George Monbiot, The Guardian, 2019)

Hasn’t the battle been lost? Look at the general public’s fascination for the so-called reality shows like Love Island.


Climate Hypocrites  



The Commencement of the Deluge, William Westall (1781-1850)
Photo Credit: Tate [CC BY-NC-ND]
…I’m going to hold my hands up. I’m a climate hypocrite… The last time I ate red meat was last night. I’m heading to Gatwick to catch a flight after writing this.

There are those admirable saints who really do practise what they preach, but I bet most of those who profess to care about the planet are just as hypocritical as me. I don’t think it makes us bad people, just typically, fallibly human, lacking the willpower to do the stuff we know we ought, such as shedding a few pounds or putting away more in our pension.

…I already know we’re fast approaching a catastrophic climate tipping point and yet I’m just not very good at forgoing a steak, particularly when I know plenty of others won’t be either. … So public policy inevitably ends up with sin taxes as the go-to policy lever for trying to get us to switch away from the bad stuff.

Sure enough, a meat tax has been mooted. But the big problem with green taxes is that they hit the least affluent hardest. It’s people on low incomes who are most sensitive to marginal increases in the cost of their food and flights and who might decide they can’t afford their one holiday a year as a result. But it’s the very well-off who can much more easily absorb the cost of green taxes who do the bulk of the polluting: the richest 10% of households in the UK produce four times as many emissions as those in the bottom 50. That’s one reason why a jury set up by the Food Ethics Council rejected the idea of a meat tax last week.

…I want to do more, but I know I need someone to force me to take my carbon footprint more seriously. And perhaps that means people will become more willing to countenance something more radical, but fairer, than sin taxes; saying there’s only a certain amount of meat or air miles we’re going to consume as a population every year and once it’s gone it’s gone.

…People could be allocated polluting credits to cover activities such as meat eating and flying that they can sell or buy in an online marketplace.

(The Observer, 2019)

If you are into the “carbon footprint movement” then surely your lifestyle must reflect that to some degree? For some it may well mean abstaining from red meat completely whilst for others it might be reducing its intake. As for “polluting credits” doesn’t that just mean the richer you are the more you can ignore your own carbon footprint? Isn’t that what the super-rich do already? Don’t they say they plant trees or donate money when they fly in their private jets to offset their “carbon footprint”?


Fashion

 
Cinderella, Valentine Cameron Prinsep (1838-1904)
Photo Credit: Manchester Art Gallery [CC BY-NC-ND]
…When it comes to this jumpsuit there are two flourishes I am weighing up. One comes from John Lewis again, the silver Kin heels… (£79). Messaging: I’m in the army now, but I haven’t suppressed my inner Cinderella. The other comes from one of my favourite boutiques, Found in Bath. It’s this pretty clip from the cult hair accessories brand Seoul Import (£22, foundbath.co.uk). Messaging: I am in the army now, but am standing by for my Strictly Come Dancing call-up.

(Anna Murphy, The Times, 2019.)

                       Messaging? What are you on about?

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