So Jade has gone. "Am I bovered? Am I? Am I bovered?" Not one whit, paceCatherine Tate, whose TV character seems to have come alive in Jade Goody, a grotesque case of life imitating art.
The manufactured storm in the Celebrity Big Brotherteacup matters scarcely at all except in as much as it casts a light on the nature of dumbing down in TV and on the enduring prejudices that are ingrained still in parts of British society. The emotion it provokes is not anger but sadness and resigned despair.
The programme is as entertaining as sitting in front of a fish tank, and as intellectually stimulating, however addictive - heroin is addictive - huge numbers find it. Described as "reality" TV, its success lies precisely in the fact that a completely artificial hothouse is created into which the most improbable collection of f-list celebrities are confined, for a substantial amount of money, and then encouraged by various means to get at each other's throats. The triggers are race, class, gender, sexual orientation, culture, age . . . anything, and the buttons are pressed with enthusiasm by the producers. Little surprise then at the inevitable result.
Exploitative? Yes, grossly so. But with the willing connivance of participants, as the Hindustan Timesobserved: "Shilpa Shetty went into this with her eyes wide open. A woman like her should have been able to give as good as she got."
Racist? Yes, without a doubt. Shetty's implausible denial that she sees it as such has the feeling of someone in denial and trying to de-escalate confrontation. But the snide comments about her hygiene, linguistic ability, the suggestions that she should "go home", and even the vulgar abuse are codes for race, albeit overlaid with class hatred. Maybe, bending over backwards to be fair to the Goody gang, unconscious racism, but simple "bitchiness" does not describe adequately the subtext here. They also gave a master class in the art of the bully.
Yesterday, after a lengthy silence, 38,000 complaints to the watchdog Ofcom, and a stampede of sponsors tearing up contracts, Channel 4's chief executive, Andy Duncan, broke cover to defend the programme, claiming that it was "unquestionably a good thing that the programme has raised these issues and provoked such a debate. These attitudes, however distasteful, do persist - we need to confront that truth." These attitudes do persist, but Channel 4 is confronting nothing. It has pandered to them, like the owner who needles his animal before the dog fight. Its crocodile tears are more to do with the possibility that one of its most lucrative products may have passed its sell-by date. And will it be any loss?