It seems to come round faster every year, doesn’t it? One moment we are navigating the transition from summer into autumn, and then, all of a sudden, lights are hung on Grafton Street; wreaths appear on our neighbours’ doors; and we are caught in the throes of December’s most well-worn tradition: debating the lyrical impropriety of Fairytale of New York by the Pogues and Kirsty MacColl.
This year the BBC has led the charge over this well-flogged and very dead horse. BBC Radio 1 announced last week that it won’t play the original version of the song, replete with a homophobic slur – instead opting to broadcast a cleaner version with amended lyrics.
And although we seem to have the same argument every year – we shouldn’t censor art versus there is no good reason to broadcast offensive language – it is an issue that has actually long been resolved. In 1992 (no less) MacColl sang a re-rendered version on Top of the Pops, replacing the familiar offending line with “you’re cheap and you’re haggard”. So too did Ronan Keating and Moya Brennan cover the song with the same line in 2000. And in 2017 Ed Sheeran sang a version with the lyrics “cheap lousy blagger”.
In none of these instances did the heavens come crashing down to earth. The world continued to spin on its axis, and our cultural landscape did not appear to fall into an Orwellian censorious nightmare.
Every year we confront the same question, covering no new ground, and adding no further nuance to the conversation. But it is precisely because this debate is re-hashed so often, despite a workable resolution appearing as early as 1992, that we realise how facile the culture wars are.
Not least because there are no real winners. Participants in the charade are far more interested in using cultural totems like Fairytale of New York to indicate their broader ideology than in having meaningful discussion about the pros and cons of playing the song on the radio. And so too because our intellectual position on these questions is decided long before we engage with the substance of the issue.
Amid the recent Priti Patel controversy – which has seen the UK’s home secretary face calls for her resignation after an inquiry found evidence of bullying – Matthew Syed made a compelling argument in the Times. Your view on whether Patel ought to be sacked for bullying depends far more on whether you support Patel’s broader political project than on the merit of any evidence presented to you: “It is intelligent people reaching conclusions on one empirical issue [should Patel be sacked for bullying?] through their answer to a different one [did she agree with me on whether to leave the EU?].”
The impulse to use cultural questions to signify our broader world view will always hold, whether it be the lyrics of Fairytale of New York or the Shelbourne statues
The phenomenon at play behind Fairytale of New York is much the same. Your answer to whether the offending lyrics ought to be censored is refracted through a different question altogether: Do I disavow “woke” culture in all its forms? Or do I buy into an ideology that sees the censorship of certain types of language as necessary for political progress?
Your stance is informed by your prejudice. But so too is it a convenient vehicle to signify your political affiliation. If the past 10 years of culture wars have taught us anything, it is that the impulse to use cultural questions to signify our broader world view will always hold, whether it be the lyrics of Fairytale of New York or the Shelbourne statues.
But this paints a very dreary picture, not least as we are supposed to be heading into the jolliest time of year. So we ought to dwell on the causes for optimism: it seems there may be a dawning realisation that a world dominated by tedious and non-productive partisan culture wars is of no benefit to anyone; that we have finally reached the saturation point over Fairytale of New York, realising there is nothing left to be said. That maybe there is a future where culture wars lose their potency altogether.
Because the debate, from both sides, shows how unambitious the project of a culture war is. The end result of a successful campaign to remove a word from a song is staggeringly minor. The word is removed – and then what?
The answer of course is: very little. An endorsement of the “woke” project to erect language barriers in the media is not an ideology that scales. Winning the argument doesn’t amount to any structural or material change. The victory is always going to be hollow.
But on the other side of the fence, the same question remains. You mount a credible defence against the so-called censorious “snowflakes”, and you get to hear the song in its original form on the radio. And then what?
Very little is achieved in these arguments for the primary reason that most proponents of the culture wars are not engaging in good faith, but instead invested in a mudslinging match with their perceived political opponents. The question should not be about the proprieties of allowing a homophobic slur be sung on the radio (though there is no inherent value in needlessly upsetting people with offensive language); but rather if it is a worthwhile use of time and energy to consider it a pressing concern in the first place. The increased tedium of the Fairytale of New York debate might just be pushing us towards this welcome – though long overdue – realisation.