Michael DEACON
One thing we’ve learnt, in the digital age, is that human beings will fight over anything. No object on Earth is too trivial to provoke furious tribal warfare on social media. For proof, take the latest source of online enmity: Mr Potato Head.
According to reports, this simple children’s toy – which first went on sale in 1952 – is to become “gender neutral”. Or, at any rate, the “Mr” is to be dropped from the logo on the box. Cue a day of apoplectic delirium on Twitter.
“Who was actually offended by Mr Potato Head being male?” bellowed Piers Morgan at his 7.7 million followers. “I want names. These woke imbeciles are destroying the world.”
Personally, I have to say, I’m somewhat torn. Which is sillier: dropping the “Mr” from “Mr Potato Head”? Or caring that the “Mr” has been dropped from “Mr Potato Head”?
On the one hand, I don’t see what necessitated the change, other perhaps than a desire for cheap publicity. But on the other hand, I’m worried that I’m expending just a little bit too much time and energy thinking about the gender identity of a plastic root vegetable.
Either way, we can be sure of one thing. The row will only be fleeting. Because another bizarre source of online outrage will be along any moment to take its place. This is just how we live now. Every little thing pits Left against Right.
I can’t wait to find out what we’ll be rowing about next. Perhaps one side of the culture war will pretend to be outraged about Coco Pops, or Mothers’ Day cards, or daffodils. And then the other side will pretend to be outraged about the outrage.
I blame lockdown. It’s driven us all mad.
At the risk of stoking a culture war myself, I have to say I’m a bit puzzled by what’s happening with The Simpsons.
For over 30 years the character of Dr Hibbert has been voiced by Harry Shearer. This week, though, it was confirmed that Shearer has been replaced in the role – on the grounds that he’s white, and Dr Hibbert is black. From now on, Dr Hibbert will be voiced by a black actor, Kevin Michael Richardson.
This makes good on a promise made by the Fox network last summer, following the Black Lives Matter protests. “Moving forward,” said Fox in a statement, “The Simpsons will no longer have white actors voice non-white characters.”
No doubt this promise was wellmeaning. In practice, though, I’m not sure what the move is meant to achieve. The Simpsons, after all, is a cartoon. Which means the actors never appear on screen. To the viewer, therefore, it makes no difference what race each actor belongs to. The only thing that will change is Dr Hibbert’s voice.
This isn’t the first such row involving The Simpsons. Last year, Hank Azaria stepped down from voicing the character of Apu, the Indian shopkeeper. Critics had been unhappy not only because Azaria is white, but because, in their view, the character is an offensive racial stereotype.
I was surprised by this. Partly because I liked Apu. But mainly because by far the most stereotypical character on the show is actually white. Or, strictly speaking, yellow.
What is Homer Simpson, after all, but a stereotypical caricature of the American white working class? He’s portrayed as ignorant, uneducated, lazy, vulgar and grossly overweight. He eats junk food, drinks too much beer and spends most of his free time either in a bar or gawping at mindless pap on the TV. If The Simpsons had started in the past five years, rather than in the late 1980s, Homer would be widely assumed to be a satire of blue-collar Trump supporters.
Yet no one, as far as I know, complains that Homer is an offensive stereotype, or demands that he be written out of the show. And why would they? Everyone loves Homer. Because, for all his faults, Homer is also funny, likeable, and fundamentally a good man.
But then, you could say exactly the same about Apu.
Sir Keir Starmer has had a sticky couple of weeks. After a run of underwhelming poll results, the Left seem to be losing faith in his leadership. They fear he’s too bland,
too cautious, too dull. They want him to be bolder and more forthright.
If I were him, though, I wouldn’t worry about it too much. Instead, I would seek inspiration from an Opposition leader who endured precisely the same criticisms. Margaret Thatcher.
It seems scarcely credible now, but during her first year as Conservative leader many people thought Mrs Thatcher was dull and unimpressive, too. In June 1975, four months into her leadership, a journalist from the
New Statesman went out to canvass Conservative supporters in the seat of Woolwich West, London, ahead of a local by-election. He was startled by what he found. “Never before,” he wrote, “have I heard such disdain expressed for a party leader by solid party supporters.”
One said the Conservatives needed a more “forceful” leader. Another complained that Mrs Thatcher was “not speaking out enough”. A third suspected that she “doesn’t have a natural appeal” to voters. A fourth predicted that she would soon be replaced (“I don’t think she’ll stay”). A fifth, meanwhile, thought that Mrs Thatcher’s problem was that she was just too nice. (“She’s too sweet, and politics isn’t sweet. I think we wanted somebody stronger.”)
Looking back, I think it’s safe to say that Mrs Thatcher managed to prove those critics wrong. Whether Sir Keir can do the same, I don’t know. But perhaps, to lift his spirits, he should hang a portrait of Mrs Thatcher on the wall of his office. And buy himself a good, strong handbag.