In 2015, Jeremy Clarkson punched a subordinate named Oisin Tymon, a producer on his hit BBC show Top Gear. A review found Clarkson had subjected Tymon to an “unprovoked physical and verbal attack”, which had left him bleeding. Clarkson and the BBC later settled a racial discrimation and personal injury claim, reportedly paying out more than £100,000 after claims that Clarkson had referred to Tymon as a “lazy, Irish c**t” during the attack. Clarkson issued an apology to Tymon through his solicitors.
For two weeks that March, the story dominated the front pages. Clarkson was sacked “with great regret” by BBC director general Tony Hall, who cited Clarkson’s “sustained and prolonged verbal abuse of an extreme nature”. The better part of 10 years later, you’d be forgiven for having forgotten. Clarkson remains one of the biggest stars in media.
A newspaper column in which Clarkson admitted to a repulsive fantasy about Meghan Markle (borrowed from Game of Thrones) stirred controversy, but little consequence. His TV shows, The Grand Tour and Clarkson’s Farm, bring in millions of pounds. Thanks to Clarkson’s departure from the BBC, those millions now come to Prime Video.
The Clarkson debacle glowers over the BBC’s latest headache – How Do You Solve A Problem Like Gary Lineker? Lineker, like Clarkson, is loved by millions, even if Lineker’s politics – unreflectively left-liberal and defined by hostility to the Tory party – attract the opposite crowd.
As regular readers will know, I am no fan. I have already argued that he can be a lazy thinker, and makes a mistake in imagining he is a public intellectual, not a football commentator.
Like Clarkson, he is also paid millions. Last month, the BBC was reported to be renewing his current £1.35m annual salary; the same amount it costs to run the BBC Singers, the world-leading ensemble threatened with closure earlier this year.
Yet Lineker’s fans point out that his fee is set by market realities – an economic principle his detractors in the Tory party should endorse. As with Clarkson, should the BBC jettison him, there is no doubt that a streaming service stands ready with an equally large chequebook, its advertisers eager to attract the eyeballs he would inevitably take with him.
Lineker’s fans may object to any comparison with Clarkson. Clarkson engaged in an act of violence in the workplace; there is no suggestion that Lineker has done any such thing. Lineker has hit the headlines – repeatedly – for simply expressing his free opinion. Those of us who make our living doing the same thing should be all in favour.
Yet both Lineker and Clarkson, in their own ways, have tested the limits of controversy at the BBC. They both invite the same question: in the age of streaming giants, can the BBC afford to enforce its own rules against its biggest stars?
Beneath the Lineker situation lies a moribund understanding of BBC “impartiality”. This September, the BBC rewrote its own rules to respond to a previous row, in which Lineker criticised Tory government language about migrants as “not dissimilar to that used by Germany in the 30s”. As a result, the only meaningful bans on Lineker and other “flagship presenters” apply to formal political campaigning, fundraising and making direct criticism of “the individual character” of politicians within two weeks of their own programmes airing. Signing an opening letter in support of more welcoming attitudes to refugees – as he did this week – seems permissible, and certainly should be.
But what does it mean to criticise “the individual character” of a politician in 2023? Within hours of the Together With Refugees letter being published, Lineker was being sniped at by politicians such as Jonathan Gullis and Grant Shapps – and he gave as good as he got. The BBC’s new guidelines require “respect and civility” from presenters – but that seems an unrealistic goal when Members of Parliament can no longer be expected to maintain the same standards.
After Shapps’ criticism, made on BBC Radio 4, Lineker published a meme alluding to Shapps’ previous use of pseudonyms to publish money-making guides. As a columnist, I have also raised concerns about the same story – as I have about the character of Jonathan Gullis. It seems bizarre that a public figure should be barred from doing the same.
But in 2023, memes are statements of allegiance. We do not only communicate our political affiliations through direct statement; on social media we indicate our politics through the codewords we use and the other voices we champion. It has been a long-time since Lineker praised a Tory on Twitter; the person who does come in for praise repeatedly is the Green Party’s sole MP, Caroline Lucas.
In 2017, Lineker described himself as “politically homeless” under Jeremy Corbyn’s leadership of the Labour Party, and called for a “sensibly centrist” party. Yet he recently shared a video about Gaza made by Owen Jones, who was once one of Corbyn’s chief cheerleaders in the press. To anyone who spends a significant part of their time on X (formerly known as Twitter) amplifying yourself with Owen Jones increasingly indicates a sympathy for left-wing politics. To people outside the X bubble, this no doubt sounds absurd. But these are codes, and Lineker speaks them fluently.
Lineker was also criticised for sharing a video, in which an Israeli academic described the actions of the Israeli government as “textbook genocide”, but has not on his social media ever directly mentioned Hamas’s own stated goal of global genocide against Jews. The idea that anyone needs to tweet about any particular subject to be taken seriously on other subjects is one of the great curses of social media. But this is how X operates – and Lineker, without question, is an expert X operator.
Lineker speaks these codes because he is, like or it not, now actively engaged in British politics. The simple solution is to encourage him to quit the BBC and try his luck as an honest politician. Naturally, he would find that involves more compromise than social media – should he, for example, take up Jonathan Gullis’s recent challenge to stand against him in Stoke-on-Trent North, he might hit the reality of splitting the left-wing vote just when Labour’s candidate had looked set to reclaim the seat.
The alternative is staying on at the BBC. But that will bring more headaches for everyone. A general election is approaching, at which point the tighter version of the BBC’s new rules kick in. Will Lineker resist temptation and rein in the political tweets? That, and not this week’s inoffensive open letter, will prove the true test of his future at the BBC.