In defence of Iain Macwhirter

Those of us on the right often sense a form of racism in the protests by some of those on the left who are suspicious of the racial diversity in the Tory front bench. Kemi Badenoch has often spoken about how black politicians who differ from the Labour narrative are accused of somehow betraying their race. Priti Patel has spoken about how much she hates the label ‘BME’ which lumps together all ethnic minorities as if they have more in common with each other than whites (she banned her officials from using it). James Cleverly, the Foreign Secretary, has said he has been told to ‘go home’ and referred to by a common racial slur: a ‘coconut’. Brown on the outside, white on the inside.

But perhaps the most controversial reaction came from the commentator Iain Macwhirter who wrote on Twitter: ‘A coconut Cabinet?’. The comment, on the face of it, looks appalling. But there is no context. It was a three-word tweet, a reply to another message; but this was subsequently quote tweeted in isolation and presented as a prima facia case of racism. Twitter users promptly added to the outrage and demanded his resignation from the Herald (example here). 

But no one who follows Macwhirter’s work (as I have done for years) could think that he has a racist bone in his body – and will have seen his tweet as obviously ironic. But Macwhirter was guilty of another classic error: expressing irony or satire on Twitter.

Here is his explanation:

‘Earlier, I made an ironic reference to a term used by some on the left about black people who are deemed traitors to the cause through joining the Tory party. After I posted it, I realised this joke might give offence and deleted it. It was unacceptable language, wide open to misinterpretation, and I am sincerely sorry for the distress I have caused. I have repeatedly applauded the Conservatives for having the most diverse cabinet in British history. Indeed, I tweeted earlier that the Truss cabinet made the Scottish government look ‘hideously white’ I have always championed racial diversity in my columns and I am dismayed that my cack-handed attempt at humour suggested otherwise’.

The problem is that such ‘attempts at humour’ – even if they are recognised as humour – can be career-ending in a newspaper industry whose executives are fearful of Twitterstorms. For example:

• No one who knows Kevin Myers thinks he is in any way anti-semitic, yet his long career was ended by a rhetorical flourish line from the Sunday Times saluting the hardheaded salary negotiating skills of Vanessa Feltz and Claudia Winkleman who were both well-paid. ‘Good for them,’ he wrote, adding fatally, ‘Jews are not generally noted for their insistence on selling their talent for the lowest possible price.’ As Lionel Shriver said: ‘The aside was meant as a compliment. It was not so perceived’.
• Kelvin MacKenzie walked through fire every day in the 1980s when he built up the Sun, the newspaper he edited, against the protests of the outside world. But he was fired after a column referring to the footballer Ross Barkley as a ‘monkey’: he had no idea that Barkley had a black grandparent. The sub-editors let it pass – no one reading it properly would think it was racist – but a Twitterstorm followed where trolls said otherwise (including the then-mayor of Liverpool). The Sun removed the column online: it was the last one its former editor wrote.
• Donald McNeil, a New York Times reporter, was forced out after a Twitterstorm sparked by claims that he had used a racial slur in a conversation about racial slurs to high school students in Peru years ago. The newspaper, where he had worked for 45 years, demanded he repent to assuage the mob. The debacle is described by Vanity Fair here.

I should say that I disagree with Macwhirter – his politics differ greatly from mine on Scottish independence and much else – but I can also recognise what’s happening right now. In Twitterstorms, trolls try to edit the reputations of their targets (Macwhirter’s Wikipedia entry has already been updated) so three words that he wrote in an instant are seen as more notable than the millions of other words he has written over his career. This is the defamation game. The mob is looking, begging for their target’s employer to accept their concocted premise and bend the knee before them. So far, so good: the Herald has duly released a statement (on Twitter) saying:

‘We are aware of an offensive tweet by one of our freelance contributors, Iain Macwhirter. Although the tweet has since been deleted and an apology issued, we have also suspended his columns while we investigate further.’

I’m not sure what there is to investigate. Macwhirther has been a columnist for decades: is there a sentence he has ever written to suggest he’s racist? Or anything to dispute his point that he is consistently anti-racist? Is there any reason to entertain, even for a second, suggestions to the contrary? 

I have my own views on social media. Twitter is like a loaded gun in a journalists’ pocket pointing at their groin and can go off at any time. Using it for anything other than promoting articles (or exploring points of debate) has big risks. Every writer needs editing and we’re exposed without it: journalists who are paid to be neutral can have their bias exposed. Jokes can be used to kill. Editors need to adjust for this era, protecting writers from risk of malicious misinterpretation (‘Did you mean it that way? Could we defend that phrase, if things kick off?’). Such questions would have saved Myers and MacKenzie. Of course, that’s if their titles wanted them to be saved. Newspapers can ditch columnists from time to time, and don’t need a reason. Donald McNeil was an old-school troublemaker in the New York Times who once organised a walkout in a pay dispute. Twitterstorms give publications a pretext to ditch people, often older people. But it is deeply damaging to do so because it looks like bowing to the mob – and risks telling all other journalists they are vulnerable to what the mob does and says.

The Herald has a brand new editor and this will be the first dilemma of her new job. She’ll be under pressure to drop him. ‘Twitter is not on the masthead of the New York Times,’ wrote Bari Weiss. ‘But Twitter has become its ultimate editor.’ Let the same never be said for the Herald.