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There’s one upside to the Sussexes’ media savaging and Uncle Andrew is the beneficiary.
Joanne Black
The Duke and Duchess of Sussex’s struggles with the media must be a blessed relief to Harry’s Uncle Andrew. He is no more and no less a villain – and for that matter no more and no less a victim – than he was before the Sussexes began to have their life plan mapped out in public. But in that time, Andrew’s past associations have largely disappeared from the headlines.
New Zealand is largely free of the tabloid scourge. Our closest equivalent is the parliamentary press gallery, which from time to time turns feral on its target. What can start out as a justifiable line of media enquiry can become little more than bullying. Being the hunted, rather than the hunter, was well captured by former National MP Phil Heatley in his valedictory speech to Parliament in 2014.
“In Cabinet,” he told the House, “it actually gets to the point where it’s just your turn to be in trouble.” Taking your turn was no fun, Heatley said. “It is a bit like the two guys who were tramping and came across a tiger when they were in the jungle. One quietly slipped into his Nikes. The other one said: ‘You’ll never outrun him.’ He said: ‘I don’t have to. I only have to outrun you.’ That is what it is like. Although I did not like seeing my colleagues in trouble, it was a damned sight better than me being in it.”
Prince Andrew would surely agree.
Driving in the South Island in peak holiday time, I was struck by the dearth of hitchhikers. Like other species that gradually dwindle from the landscape, it is not till you see one or two that you remember “these used to be everywhere”. On my latest holiday, I saw just two hitchhikers.
There were many times in my younger days when I was that person on the roadside, though single females rarely had to wait long for a ride. Many women drivers would pick up only female hitchhikers. I once accepted a lift from a woman who was nervous and told me, “I have never before picked up a hitchhiker but I couldn’t bear to drive past and leave you on the road.” That suited me, of course, and I tried to be an engaging companion so that afterwards she might feel that she, too, had gained something from the experience, if only the appreciation of driving in silence after dropping me off.
A friend reckons that FoSK (fear of serial killers) is largely to blame for there being fewer people hitching, or if not FoSK then PFoSK (parental fear of serial killers). She made up these acronyms but we all understand how such syndromes might exist. New Zealand has a record of hideous crimes involving backpacking victims, and coverage of the New South Wales backpacker murders committed by Ivan Milat – who continued to deny involvement right up to his death last October – hasn’t helped hitching’s image. Such cases must have deterred many young women from hitchhiking and may also have persuaded many parents to stump up for a rental car – which was probably spent on something else while their daughters hitchhiked anyway.
Perhaps some would-be hitchhikers have taken to cycling. Cycling takes more effort and endurance, but shares hitching’s requirement that you can cope with bad weather, setbacks, long periods alone and ending the day nowhere near where you were hoping to get to.
At its best, hitching’s community was vibrant and co-operative and characterised by generosity, flexibility and courage. At its worst, it was as bad as human nature can be. It would be a shame if evil has triumphed.
“Seeing my colleagues in trouble was a damned sight better than me being in it.”