It was a sort of ChatGPT version of the BBC’s Match of the Day. It was a highlights package consisting of lowlights. No title credits, theme music, manager or player interviews. No commentary, no sober analysis from Alan Shearer, no hearty cackle from Ian Wright, and, of course, missing in action, the bonhomie and seamless-links-to-VT of Gary Lineker, which brings us to the hero of this tale.
When he tweeted last Thursday that the “ridiculously out of proportion” row over his critical comments on Suella Braverman’s immigration policy was “abating”, he could not have been more wrong. Since the Beeb announced that he’d “taken a step back”, the Lineker debacle has been continuous front-page news.
If Lineker is correct when he calls the row out of proportion, then we can consider two reasons. The first is that proportion is no longer a thing that really exists in the UK, thanks to an endlessly hysterical 24-hour news cycle. The second reason would be that, far from the “controversial” topics the BBC’s social media guidelines specify to avoid, Lineker’s political tweets are mostly along the innocuous lines of, say, looking after the environment is good, and – as in this case – detaining and removing people seeking asylum is cruel. Frankly, arguments about VAR are more contentious.
But perhaps Lineker is mistaken, and this row isn’t out of proportion. This row is fundamentally about decency, something people on the right are usually so keen to bang on about. They reacted so harshly because Lineker risked exposing their true character. Lineker is also one of the most well-known, likable personalities we have. He has the type of “cut through” politicians would kill for. Compared to Lineker, Keir Starmer’s statement was as impactful as slicing a cake with a piece of paper. And this, of course, is the reason Lineker shares his opinions in the first place.
He is not the only public figure in the world of sports to have spoken up in the recent past. Premier League footballers were disparaged by Matt Hancock during the pandemic and told to “play their part”, but had literally set up a group called Players Together to donate money to the NHS. Marcus Rashford, who shamed the government into (twice) reversing its free school meals policy and became such a national hero that even Liverpool fans chanted his name, was told to “stick to football” (he’s scored his highest ever tally of goals this season). Gary Neville, Roy Keane and Andy Murray have all gone viral for their insightful or cutting or witty criticism of government policy.
In parallel to the pop stars and artists who came out in force to support Tony Blair in 1997, today we have entertainers providing the opposition. I’d argue that the person who did the most to bring Nadhim Zahawi’s tax affairs to mainstream attention was Carol Vorderman, who brought it up multiple times on chatshow sofas. Then there was Joe Lycett’s wonderful skewering of Liz Truss, or Ant and Dec’s repeated jokes at the expense of Boris Johnson, keeping Partygate in the public eye every single evening. These celebrities make the government and the usual rightwing agitators nervous because they reveal the fact that they’ve misread the mood. And furthermore, they show them up as lacking basic human kindness, integrity or common sense.
The BBC debacle has many layers to it, of course. The patently obvious double standards and selective punitive action (compare the treatment of Emily Maitlis with that of Andrew Neil, for example); the now undeniable links at the top of the corporation, in chairman Richard Sharp and director general Tim Davie, to the Tory party. Broadcasting House, long criticised by the right as a hotbed of leftwing rabble-rousers, is in danger of exposing itself as in the pocket of a Tory government; that is, the exact opposite of impartiality.
But perhaps an even bigger danger for this current administration, so keen on breaking international law, undermining human rights and stripping the public of adequate healthcare, is that famous and popular people are starting to point out all of these things, and people are listening. I noticed that the quasi-episode of Match of the Day didn’t find time to include the moment during Leicester City’s game against Chelsea in which both sets of supporters chanted Lineker’s name. Funny that.
Hannah Jane Parkinson is a Guardian columnist
