The Guardian’s George Monbiot is feeling a little dirty, a little compromised. In a typically understated piece, titled Newspapers Must Stop Taking Advertising from Environmental Villains, Mr Monbiot ponders “the extent to which newspapers should restrict the advertisements they carry.”

Readers will doubtless be shocked to hear that newspapers, and their columnists, depend on advertising…

It pays my wages. More precisely, it provides around three-quarters of newspapers’ income. Without it, they would not exist: certainly not in their current form, almost certainly not at all. For all their evident faults, newspapers perform a crucial democratic service: without professional reporting, it is impossible to make informed decisions.

And here’s a small compendium of the Guardian’s “professional reporting,” without which “it is impossible to make informed decisions.”

The problem at hand, at least for Monbiot, is this. Advertising is bad, you see. All of it. Very, very bad.

I believe that advertising is a pox on the planet. It is one of the forces driving us towards destruction, as it creates needs that did not exist before and promotes consumption way beyond sustainable levels. I believe that it is also socially damaging, turning ours into a more grasping, more atomised society, focused on material display rather than solidarity and community action.

Sadly, no evidence is offered to support this tangle of emphatic supposition. Though questions do spring to mind. Exactly how would one go about measuring the alleged “atomising” and “socially damaging” effect of an advert for cheap flights or a car, or for something more mundane – say, a nice pair of shoes? Exactly how much shoe advertising, or shoe consumption, constitutes wickedness? Is there a preferred, morally elevated, level of shoe ownership?

[Adverts] generate behavioural norms, telling us, in effect, that the goods and services which are destroying the biosphere are acceptable, even beneficial. I believe that their presence in the newspapers makes hypocrites of all those of us who write for them. Our editorials urge people to reduce their impacts. Our advertisements urge people to increase them.

Actually, the charge of hypocrisy isn’t dependent on accepting adverts for things readers may want and for which they’re willing to pay. The prodigious hypocrisy of Monbiot’s employer, Alan Rusbridger, has previously been noted, and in Monbiot’s case there are other, more immediate, reasons to mutter “hypocrite.” Not least the amount of air travel the columnist indulged in to promote his book on the unacceptability of air travel, an activity he saw fit to equate with child abuse. 

In a piece pondering the nature of the political middle ground, Fabian Tassano spots a little sly projection:

According to the Guardian, for example, Cameron recently claimed that “the poor, obese and lazy spent too much time blaming social problems for their own shortcomings.” However, that looks like a bit of tendentious rewriting on the part of the Guardian since, as far as I can make out from other media coverage, what Cameron actually said during his tour of Glasgow in July is that “social problems are often the consequence of the choices that people make.” The distinction between the quote and its misrepresentation is illuminating, since the people who blame ‘society’ for poverty, disease and so forth are not typically the poor themselves, but the il-liberal elite (e.g. Guardian writers).

The rest.   

In the comments following this, on unrepentant former terrorist and current academic, William Ayers, I wrote: 

I’m not sure what the precise level of ostracism should be for those, like Ayers, who show no contrition for past sins. But I find it remarkable that so little stigma is apparent. There is a double standard here, whereby leftwing extremism, even of the most contemptible kind, is excused as some youthful exuberance or badge of credibility. I’m trying to picture a deranged ultra-rightwing academic still being employed, even acclaimed, despite his past attempts at sedition and indiscriminate murder, and despite such “radical” statements as, “break into the homes of poor people and kill them. That’s where it’s really at.”

Well, hey there, daddio…

Jeff Goldstein has some thoughts on Obama’s links with Ayers, and the mainstream media’s strange incuriosity:

No evidence? Well, Stanley Kurtz and Steve Diamond, two of the only journalists actually interested enough to look into the relationship, would beg to differ about the extent of Obama’s relationship with Ayers… Obama, we have found out, lied about the extent of his relationship with Ayers ([AP reporter Douglass Daniel] appears unfazed by Senator Obama’s dishonesty); he has never given an account of his CAC activities, and Ayers’ role in those activities (and has in fact tried to keep Kurtz and other journalists from telling their stories, issuing “action alerts” directing supporters to try to shout down his critics). […]

Here’s Daniel:

Obama, who was a child when the Weathermen were planting bombs, has denounced Ayers’ radical views and actions.

Well, unless you count his glowing endorsement of those radical views as put into action, including an endorsement of Ayers’ book on education, (which is nothing if not in keeping with Ayers’ radical views about the US-as-villain-and-oppressor), and the funding he funneled, through CAC, to Ayers-backed “educational” programs that eschewed things like math and science for courses based around progressive and radical notions of “social justice” and the politicizing of curricula through the “small schools” initiative.

Other than that, though, yeah: consider Ayers and his radicalism denounced in the strongest terms!

The whole thing.

Update: A deleted scene from Indoctrinate U:

“If you’re a Communist who’s declared war on the US government, if you’ve set off bombs all over the country and spent years on the run, there’s always one place where you will be welcomed with opened arms.”

I’ve previously noted the readiness with which some commentators inform “us” of how “we” feel about a given subject. This eerie divination reveals, remarkably often, that “we” feel almost exactly as the author does. Another example of this preternatural knowledge comes courtesy of Professor Carolyn Guertin, whose areas of expertise include,   

Digital media, cyberfeminism, digital narrative, hypertext, new media arts, digital design, information aesthetics, participatory cultures, Web 2.0 technologies, women’s writing, cyberculture, media literacy, science fiction…

And,

Hacktivism, born-digital arts and literatures, cultural studies, postliteracy and the social practices surrounding technology.

Some readers may remember Professor Guertin for her doctoral dissertation on “quantum feminisms,” discussed at length here, and which includes such dazzling insights as,

Within quantum mechanics, the science of the body in motion, the intricacies of the interiorities of mnemonic time – no longer an arrow – are being realized in the (traditionally) feminized shape of the body of the matrix.

And,

Where women have usually been objects to be looked at, hypermedia systems replace the gaze with the empowered look of the embodied browser in motion in archival space. Always in flux, the shape of time’s transformation is a Möbius strip unfolding time into the dynamic space of the postmodern text, into the ‘unfold’.

Writing in today’s Comment is Free, Tim Watkin ponders the shift in readership from newsprint to web.

By reading this article online, are you complicit in the slow death of printed newspapers and magazines? …For all of us on CiF, it’s surely a question we should be wrestling with… I’m sure many of you, like me, still buy print. But if you and I are spending more and more time on sites such as this instead of buying other newspapers and magazines where we live, we’ve got our hands on the knife. Haven’t we?

Setting aside Watkin’s urge to feel and inflict guilt – and the fact his article isn’t available in the Guardian’s print edition – I’m reminded of a recent telephone exchange on much the same subject. A few weeks ago I received a call from a very polite woman who was trying, heroically, to sell me a subscription to a certain broadsheet newspaper. It went something like this:

“And, Mr Thompson, we’re now offering a 60% discount.”

“Hm. But I read the papers online, for free. I haven’t bought a printed newspaper in months.”

“Yes, but we’re offering 60% off…”

“Yes, 60% is a big discount, I see that. But I’m currently paying nothing. What’s 60% off nothing?”

“Um… But not all of our content is available online.”

“Isn’t it?”

“No, not at all, there are crosswords… and, er, supplements…”

“I don’t do crosswords and the supplements are, well, just packing material. When I used to buy newspapers, the supplements were always the first things to go in the bin. Why should I start paying for something I don’t even unwrap and immediately throw away?”

“Oh. Well, er… thank you for your time, Mr Thompson…”