Since When Was Racist Bullying the Only ‘Wrong’ Form of Bullying?

Since when was racist bullying the only ‘wrong’ form of bullying?

Which is worse: bullying a child because they’re a) black, b) pretty, c) clever or d) they have big blubbery lips?

Before you answer, have a look at Bullyonline – a web site devoted to the dozens of children who have died, or nearly died, as a result of bullying by their peers. Here is 13-year old Salvation Army girl Kelly Yeomans, who took a fatal overdose. There is Alistair Hunter, 12, who hanged himself after being spat on by bullies who used to urinate in his sports bag.

Perhaps some of the children on that heartbreaking list died as a result of racist abuse; or possibly, as a result of those nearly-but-not-quite-as-heinous modern crimes, “homophobia” or “disablism”. The majority, though, did not.

They were teased for the same reasons children have been teased since time immemorial: because they had a weakness which could be exploited.

In my case, my crime was to have big, blubbery lips. Never once did it occur to me that this might have been quite a sexy, Jaggeresque quality: all I could ever think of was how vile and ugly I looked and how dearly I wished that my lips were “normal.”

Why did I wish this? Because the bullies who repeatedly called me “Blubber Lips” spoke the phrase with such hatred, venom and disgust that I knew they must be right.

Did I suffer any more or less than a child bullied for the colour of their skin or for being a complete spaz at sports? I don’t know. And here’s the thing: nor do YOU know. Nor, in fact, does ANYONE know.

This is precisely what is wrong with treating “racist” bullying as more heinous than any other form of bullying. It is based on a completely unprovable assumption which you can only make with confidence if you’re either a self-hating (what other kind is there?) white liberal or a card-carrying member of the minority grievance industry.

Reading the case of the 15-year old boy taken to court for repeatedly calling a female classmate “wog”, “coon”, “gorilla” and “golliwog”, I don’t think any of us could be in any doubt that the bully was a thoroughly nasty piece of work. I’m glad the poor girl has finally been freed of her tormentor. But I still don’t understand what this case was doing in Lincoln magistrate’s court – rather than being dealt with, as all such cases should, within the school system.

Or rather I do, all too well. It has to do with the dreaded “r” word. If racism had not been involved, there is no way a 15-year old boy would have faced criminal prosecution. The disgusting and morally purblind double standards here are wholly characteristic of New Labour and its politically correct decision to “privilege” (as your typical Libtard would say) certain types of crime over others.

Kill someone because they’re black or gay and you face a stiffer sentence than you would if you killed them, say, because you didn’t like their poncy, upper-class accent.

New Labour would call this social justice.

Orwell called it Thought Crime.

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Is George ‘Jello’ Monbiot Too Chicken to Debate ‘Global Warming’ with an Expert?

Is George ‘Jello’ Monbiot too chicken to debate ‘Global Warming’ with an expert?

A couple of weeks ago, you may have seen, I wrote a piece in the Spectator which drove the  global warming alarmists almost insane with frothing indignation. It was an interview with the Aussie geology professor Ian Plimer whose bestselling book – Heaven and Earth – is being hailed as the great turning point in the debate on anthropogenic global warming.

Methodically, rigorously and above all scientifically, it carefully demonstrates to the lay reader truths that to large swathes of the scientific community are  already quite obvious: viz that “climate change” has been happening for 4,567 million years, regardless of man’s presence on earth; and that “climate” will go on changing regardless of what idiotic, ineffectively and mind-boggling expensive ploys man adopts to try to stop what is in fact a perfectly natural process.

Enough detail: read the piece; then read the book; then make up your own mind.

The climate change alarmists, though, do not even want you to do that. What they’d much rather you did was go onto the internet, find a page of nit-picking quibbles put up by a parti-pris computer modeller from the “man is doomed,  it’s all our fault and we must spend gazillions on windmills now” brigade, write Professor Plimer off as a complete crank.

It’s what they do to Christopher Booker; its what they do to Professor Pat Michaels at the University of Virginia; its what they do to Marc Morano at the marvellous Climate Depot website; it’s what they do to Stephen McIntyre and Ross McKitrick who exposed the “Hockey-Stick curve”; it’s what they to do anyone who produces inconvenient truths which undermine their cause and threaten their claim that there is any kind of scientific “consensus” on climate change.

It’s a classic ploy of eco-fascists and libtards alike: if the facts are against them – as they usually are – they’ll always try to shut down the debate by taking the argument ad hominem instead.

The response of the Guardian’s resident eco-moonbat George Monbiot was a case in point. He sputtered that I knew about as much about the environment as he knew about F1 racing; and wrote a huffy piece effectively saying that Plimer too far beyond the scientific pale to be taken seriously.

Plimer’s response? To offer to fly from his native Australia at his own expense and publicly debate with Monbiot at the time of his choosing. The event would be conducted under the auspices of the Spectator and would, I’m sure, be informative, exciting and sublimely entertaining.

I say “would” because I don’t think it’s ever going to happen. Here is George Monbiot’s response to the challenge:

“Sir, Ian Plimer challenges me to debate his claims about climate change. I accept.

In fact I accepted a fortnight ago, when I began this debate by taking him to task. Along with other critics, I have laid out a list of specific errors of fact and misrepresentations, which he uses to support his argument.

The ball is now in his court. To participate in this debate, he should answer the points I listed, as well as the other issues raised by Tim Lambert, Ian Enting and David Karoly. Then we can reply.

But Plimer, as far as I can discover, has yet to produce any specific response to the very serious allegations made by his critics, preferring to heap insults on them instead.

These are all scientific matters, some of which are complex. To engage in this debate, we need to establish the facts and provide references. This is why it is better to debate these issues in writing; ideally, as Plimer’s critics have done, in electronic format, so that people can follow the links. Attempting to resolve these issues in person is likely either to become extremely boring or to degenerate into a slanging match. The Guardian’s website is open to him, and we look forward to his responses. Is he up to this, or will he keep ducking our challenge?

The floor is his.

George Monbiot”

Now does that read to you like the letter of a man who is happy to venture his reputation in the cut and thrust of open debate?

Or does it read like the squirmy, weaselly get-out of a no-good, snivelling, yellow-bellied, milquetoast loser quite terrified of having the massive holes in his puny argument mercilessly exposed in public by a proper scientist who actually knows his subject inside out?

Plimer, meanwhile, has imposed no conditions on the debate. All he asks is that it be conducted in public and that Monbiot turns up.

The ball’s in your court Monbiot and let’s have no more of that legalistic wriggling. Are you up for this debate?

Or are you – as I strongly suspect – going to bottle it?

Related posts:

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Norwich North: If Only They Could ALL Lose

Quite the most depressing thing about tomorrow’s Norwich North by-election is that, whoever wins, it will be a ruddy disaster for all of us.

I suppose the very worst-case scenario would be a victory for the Green candidate Rupert Read. As Oliver Kamm has pointed out, behind Read’s personable manner and bunny-hugging vegan fluffiness, lurk some really quite terrifyingly hard core views.

After the Madrid train bombings, he crowed to the Independent:

“If you live by the sword, then your innocent citizens (though luckily not you) may well die by the sword. Aznar, Blair and Bush should choke on their words of condolence to the victims in Madrid. It is their atrocious criminal violence that has led to this counter-atrocity.”

Right, I see. So the 191 Spanish commuters torn to shreds by those bombs weren’t actually murdered by a nihilistic terrorist sect, inspired by the dream of restoring Spain to the Caliphate status it last saw in the Middle Ages and eventually bringing the whole world into the glorious realm of Dar Al Islam. No, it seems that the governments of Spain, Britain and US were the real culprits. Just, of course, as the US was to blame for 9/11; and Britain, I suppose, for the 7/7 tube bombings.

Kamm quotes a similarly, deliciously mad letter Read wrote in 1999, making the hitherto not obvious connection between government higher education spending and student suicides.

“British higher education is in a crisis that only increased funding can help resolve. Academics’ workloads have gone up while salaries have been cut. Class sizes have increased enormously. This “Labour” government continues to cut the budgets of universities each year.

“One consequence is that suicide rates among staff and students alike have roughly quadrupled, over the last 15 years. This is a horrifying fact – responsibility for which must be laid a the door of the departed Tory government, and of the current government.”

So there are two good reasons already why this nettle-tea-crazed justifier-of-terrorist atrocities should not be allowed within a billion miles of our law-making process or foreign policy. An even more compelling argument against, in my book, though, is the effect his victory would have on the Tories. Already, their “green” policy is quite hopelessly in thrall to Al Gore’s “we’re all going to burn: lay waste the landscape with wind mills” global warming meme. Imagine how much more dangerous they’d be if they got it into their woolly soft-left heads that the party hadn’t yet pushed its eco-message hard enough: within two years, they’d have restored the barter system, banned meat and forced us all to dwell in yurts, travel by coracle and live on mung beans.

So yes, a victory for Read would be the very worst of worst case scenarios. But I’m not sure that this is any reason to vote Conservative. A victory for the Conservatives would, of course, send out to Dave Cameron the very last message he needs to hear right now, viz: “Carry on as you are! You’re doing just brilliantly!”

In other words, if the Tories win this election it will mean: no change on their 51p upper tax rate; no change on their plans to squander more on the NHS; no change on their dissimulation on Europe; no change on their crazed, ultra-leftist green policies; still no honest discussion of immigration; still no sign that the Tories understand that what Britain needs most right now is less Government, less regulation, lower taxation and a restoration of the liberties which have been eroded by New Labour’s creeping, liberal-fascist nanny state.

It’s a damn shame really because I know – I met one or two of them at the Spectator party – that coming up through the Tory party are dozens and dozens of ideologically sound young Turks who understand exactly the medicine Britain needs if it’s not to fall off a cliff. My fear is that by the time they get to boot Dave’s useless progressives out, there will be nothing of the country left to save.

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  4. Lib Dems: now even less popular than the BNP

 

The Officers Who Played Fireball Hockey with Me Have Been Scandalously Betrayed

Have you ever played fireball hockey? God, what a fantastic game! You wrap a bog roll in chicken wire, douse it in paraffin, set fire to it and then play hockey with it — preferably while drunk and wearing black tie, as I was lucky enough to do myself three years ago in front of the officers’ mess at the Norfolk HQ of the Light Dragoons. I’d been invited by their then CO, Lt Col Robin Matthews, who’d liked my book How To Be Right and wanted me to give his officers a pep talk. He explained: ‘A lot of these chaps are painfully aware how much money all their non-army friends are making [Gosh! That dates this story, doesn’t it?] and knowing you’re such a fan of the military I thought you could help remind them why they’re there.’

So that’s what I did. I told them how utterly crap life was in the real world (‘look at me: I’m a super-successful journalist, I meet lots of famous people, get dozens of CDs sent to me for review every week, am sent on the most stupendous travel freebies — but still it all completely sucks’), how soldiering was the most exciting and honourable profession, and the ‘war on terror’ was a noble and just one. At the time I was much more of a committed neocon than I am now, and was secretly quite pissed off when an earnest subaltern — one of the few non-public-school ones — came up to me afterwards to quibble with the general verdict that I was a splendid fellow who was quite right. ‘I still don’t see what we’re doing there,’ he said, meaning Iraq and Afghanistan. ‘Who are we to impose our values on cultures that don’t want them?’

After dinner, during the game of fireball hockey, I tried to show as much ‘form’ as possible. That lethal flaming bog roll could easily set your hair alight or char criss-cross marks into your skin, but you don’t want to be seen to flinch by men who are about to command light tank reconnaissance squadrons in Afghanistan, at the HQ of a regiment so dashing and brave that a mere squadron of its Hussar antecedents once captured a whole regiment of Frenchmen in the fog.

(to read more, click here)

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Lying Is Not the Way to Defeat the BNP

Do you remember earlier this month when the Government “proved” that there is “no bias in the allocation of social housing to immigrants”? I do, because Radio 4 didn’t stop crowing about it all day.

“So this totally nails once and for all the evil and racist myth that white, indigenous populations are discriminated against by housing officers,” ran the general tenor of Radio 4’s – and for that matter, all the print media’s – reporting of the issue. “Which means that not only are white, working class people even thicker and more wrong than we thought. But also, very probably, that ethnic communities and immigrants are more delightful and vibrant and generally cherishable than we had hitherto imagined.”

One problem with this factoid (which was announced with great fanfare by the Equality & Human Rights Commission (EHRC) in a report on July 7) is that it has no scientific, statistical or evidential basis whatsoever.

We now know this because a leading statistical analyst, Professor Mervyn Stone of University College, London, has done the homework the news outlets which uncritically regurgitated the EHRC’s nonsense should have done at the time.

His conclusion? That “the figures that EHRC has disseminated as if they were evidence for the claim are of zero inferential value.”

They are meaningless because they break one of the cardinal statistical rules of failing to compare like with like:

“In support of its claim, EHRC misrepresents the meaning of two factual assertions:

“1. That in 2007 ‘less than two per cent’ (1.8%) of social housing was occupied by migrants who arrived after 2002.
2. That ‘nine out of ten’ (87.8%) such homes were occupied by people born in the UK.”

“To make any sense at all, a comparison has to be like-with-like, but this contrast is no such thing.”

“In 2007, the social housing stock was four million of which 72,000 (1.8%) were occupied by migrants and 3,500,000 (87.8%) by UK born. To estimate the chance of a new-migrant applicant getting a home, you would have to divide the 72,000 by the total number of migrant applicants entitled to housing. To estimate the comparable chance for the UK-born, you would first have to establish the number allocated between 2002 and 2007, before dividing it by the number of UK-born applicants for the same period.”

“No calculation of that sort was done for the EHRC study. In fact, the extra data that would be needed to do it are nowhere to be found in the EHRC report. If it were done, the correction would almost certainly reduce the gap between the 1.8% and the 87.8%. Could it even be reversed and accepted as evidence against the EHRC claim? That is a possibility because, as the EHRC report concedes, ‘most new migrants have no entitlement to housing’ and because most of the 3,500,000 homes occupied by the UK-born will have been allocated before 2002.”

The weasel phrase which should have alerted us to this skullduggery, says the Professor, is the EHRC’s claim that its researchers “found no evidence to support the perception that new migrants are getting priority over UK born residents”.

“We have found no evidence that….” Yes, now I think it about it, its a lawyerly formulation you hear being used an awful lot by government ministers, quangocrats and liberal-left fellow-travellers on programmes like Today and Any Questions whenever they’re trying to wriggle out of a well-justified criticism.

This puts their critics in an impossible position: how can they ask for evidence that there is no evidence?

Civitas, the think tank which commissioned Professor Stone’s report, has now made a formal complaint to the UK Statistics Authority asking it to appraise the reliability of the statistical methods used by the report and the statistical reasoning that underlies its claims.

As Civitas’s director David Green rightly says: “Government agencies have a duty to use public funds to commission objective research but the EHRC has failed the meet even the minimal standards of statistical rigour that the public is entitled to expect.”

Fat lot of good his complaint will do. A lie is half way round the world before the truth has got its boots on. The Labour regime knows this. God how its politically correct Quangos know this! And they will go on lying and lying with virtual impunity till the happy day they’re booted out office.

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The Return of the Vinyl? How Britain Got Its Groove Back

On top of a brown Formica cabinet in a Portakabin office in an anonymous warehouse on the outskirts of London sits the most privileged record player in pop-music history.

The Garrard direct-drive turntable was the first outside a recording studio ever to play the Beatles’ Revolver and Sgt Pepper; the first to experience Pink Floyd’s The Dark Side Of The Moon; it was the first to be challenged by the Sex Pistols’ God Save the Queen; it was there at the birth of dance music; and it’s still going strong in the age of Arctic Monkeys, Animal Collective and Lily Allen.

Remember all that talk in the Eighties when shiny, allegedly indestructible CDs came out, about how the days of the LP were numbered? Well, just recently exactly the opposite has started to happen: it’s the CD, the experts are now saying, that will soon be obsolete. It’s vinyl that’s here to stay.

The Vinyl FactoryBack in business: The Vinyl factory company logo (left) logo and coloured petals of PVC

Back in business: The Vinyl factory company logo (left) logo and coloured petals of PVC

‘I’m surprised a vinyl industry still exists, but the fact that it does is tremendous,’ says Roy Matthews, 73, who has been working on and off at this vinyl factory since 1956 and is now its general manager. When he started it belonged to EMI.

Then in 2000 the EMI manufacturing complex was being sold and the plant was scheduled to close. It was bought by a pair of entrepreneurs, Mark Wadhwa and former Olympic sailor Tim Robinson, and now operates as The Vinyl Factory, manufacturing about 2.5 million records every year.

It’s the last of its kind, as the only major vinyl manufacturing plant left in the UK. The equipment and methods are unchanged, from the revered Garrard turntable on which the ‘positives’ (from which records are made) are checked for defects, to the sacks of black (or coloured) PVC pellets on the factory floor.

The pressing machine that today squashes out special collectors’ LP editions of Damon Albarn and Jamie Hewlett’s Monkey and the recent Pet Shop Boys album Yes is exactly the same one that pressed the original editions of Mike Oldfield‘s Tubular Bells and Queen’s a Night at the Opera now gathering dust on your shelves.

For audiophiles and musicians this is a happy vindication of something they’ve been saying for years: the sound you get from vinyl recording is so much better than what you get from a CD.

(to read more, click here)

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The ineffable wrongness and stupidity of Harriet Harman

“Ageist” BBC must reinstate Arlene, says Harman.

Until I read that headline, I thought I knew exactly where I stood on l’affaire Strictly Come Dancing. I’m old enough to remember getting jolly excited watching lovely Arlene Phillips and Hot Gossip pouting and bottom-waggling their way through I Lost My Heart To A Starship Trooper, so I’m also old enough to be bothered by talented people losing their jobs as a result of “ageism”. (Though the BBC, of course, denies that this was the reason it decided to replace Phillips, 66, with sexy, pouty, hot, vixen-babe, pop-star, baby-doll, nymphette, chick Alesha Dixon, 30.)

Now that Harriet Harman has intervened, however, I have shifted my position completely. Everything this bossy, interfering, and – for a QC and an ex Paulina – quite astonishingly thick class traitor ever says in that dreary fake-pleb accent of hers is stupid and wrong, be it on the subject of  female equality or television game show casting. If she told me sharks were vicious, deadly maneaters I would confidently dive into a tank full of ravening great whites, secure in the knowledge that I would come to no harm.

It is for this reason, I can now declare with absolute certainty that Arlene Phillips is a lame old hag who totally had it coming to her, that there’s no one on earth who less deserves to be a Strictly Come Dancing judge and that anyone would have done the job than her better up to and including Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, Kim Jong Il or the late Dame Thora Hird.

Sorry, Arlene.

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Camp it Up | James Delingpole

July 17, 2009

Here’s the fundamental problem with family camping holidays: husband and kids love them, wife pretends to but secretly finds the squalor, the poor lighting, and the lack of bathrooms with fluffy white towels a bit yuck.

And the solution? Glamping. It’s short for ‘glamorous camping’, the theory being that you get to enjoy all the things that are special about life under canvas (proximity to nature; birdsong; sense of pioneering adventure, etc) but with the ghastliness (bad backs, rudimentary loos) edited out.

We tried it over a long weekend in some woods outside York (not far from the battleground of Stamford Bridge) at a site run by Christian and Carolyn, who used to own the weirdest restaurant in London, which was half fireplace showroom, half bijou eaterie, and they’ve done the job just brilliantly.

(to read more, click here)

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Wind Farms: The Death of Britain

Britain: 2015

“How the hell did we let that happen?” we often ask ourselves when we look at the brutalist monstrosity tower blocks which we allowed to blight our towns in the sixties. In a few decades’ time we’re going to be asking exactly the same question about the 300 foot wind turbines ruining what’s left of Britain’s wilderness.

And a bit like the perpetrators of terrible sixties architecture now, no one’s going to be able to come up with a satisfactory answer because, quite simply, there isn’t one: wind turbines are a bad idea in almost every way imaginable.

They don’t work when there’s no wind.

They don’t work when it’s too windy.

They produce so little power – and so unreliably and erratically – that even if you put one on every hill top in Britain you’d still need to rely on nuclear, coal and gas-generated electricity for your main source of energy.

They chew up flying wildlife and scare horses.

They produce a subsonic hum which drives you mad if you’re downwind of them.

They turn pristine landscape into Teletubby-style horror visions.

They destroy property values.

They steal light.

They’re visible for miles around so that just when you’re thinking you’ve got away from it all you’re reminded of man’s grim presence by the whirling white shapes on the horizon.

They’re environmentally damaging: their massive concrete bases alone requiring enough concrete to fill two Olympic-size swimming pools; then there’s the access roads that have to be built through the unspoilt landscape to put them up in the first place.

They’re twice as expensive as conventionally-produced electricity.

They make you feel a bit queasy, especially the three-bladed ones whose asymmetry is disturbing.

To supply the equivalent output of one nuclear power station you’d need a wind farm the size of Greater Manchester.

When I wrote all this a couple of years ago in How To Be Right, my polemical A to Z of everything wrong with Blair’s and Brown’s Britain, I did think I was erring slightly towards the Dystopian.

The “wind turbines” entry was more of a warning of the awful things that could go wrong if the more extreme eco-nutters got their way and the government completely lost its head. Not even in my darkest moments did I imagine that this nightmare vision would come true.

Why? Well, apart from anything else, because the British landscape is our greatest asset, the thing that makes so proud to have been born here and to live here. In July, I’ll be walking with my family in the near-deserted hills of the Welsh Borders; in late August, I’ll be in Scotland wandering amid the purple heather of the Highlands; in October, the coastal path round Prawle Point and Bolt Head. I love swimming in burns, rock pools, rivers, beneath waterfalls, in the sea off South Dorset.  I count it one of my greatest privileges to have been hunting over the stone walls of the Cotswolds and the steep valleys of Exmoor. Few things make me happier or more glad to be alive than the joy that so much of our countryside remains so pristine and stunningly beautiful.

And now, in the name of environmentalism, to serve a cause – CO2 reduction – that will not make the blindest bit of difference to global climate, our Government is destroy this landscape.

Well I suppose they would. They’re Labour and they’ve never really understood the country in the way the Conservatives do.

Or rather, the way the Conservatives did. For, it would seem judging from the comments of Tory environment spokesman Greg Clark that the Conservatives now hate our countryside just as much as Labour does.

To me, it quite beggars belief that a party led by an ex-hunting man representing as beautiful a rural seat as Witney should yet fail to take a stand on this, the gravest environmental threat to Britain in our lifetime. Wind farms are a disaster and an act of lunacy. If the Tories refuse to take a stand against them, they most definitely do not deserve our vote.

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Miliband’s Brilliant Plan to Combat Climate Change: ‘We’ll Export Unicorns to China’

Negative jobs, negative energy

Ed Miliband can't sort out his accent, so what does he have against "climate change"?

Ed Miliband can’t even sort out his accent, so what hope does he have against ‘climate change’? (Photo: PA)

My all-time favourite story from the spot-on news satire website The Daily Mash was the one sending up Alistair Darling’s pitiful attempts to rescue the British economy. Among his brilliant schemes was a plan to breed unicorns and sell them to Chinese millionaires.

“The chancellor would invest public money in up to a dozen unicorn farms across the country churning out thousands of magical horses which would then be vacuum packed and shipped to the Far East.”

“Mr Darling believes that at £250,000 a unicorn the government could have paid back its £120bn of borrowing by the time Star Trek becomes reality.”

So it was with a tremendous sense of deja vu that I heard Energy and Climate Change Secretary Ed Miliband talking on this morning’s Today programme about his radical and costly new measures to tackle “global warming”.

There are, of course, many things to loathe about Ed Miliband: his wonky, slightly sinister face like a giant egg with a hedgehog on top; the way he says “sure” all the time; his Estuarial inability to pronounce his final consonants; the fact that there’s not just him but his ruddy brother too; the annoying missing “l” in his surname; but definitely the worst is the drivel this grinning eco loon is allowed to spout, largely unchallenged, on “climate change.”

This morning he claimed that by 2015 the miseries of his strict new energy policy will be partly offset by the creation of 400,000 “green jobs”. Oh really? These would presumably be green jobs not unlike the ones in President Obama’s much-cited windpowered economic miracle Spain, would they? The ones that actually destroy 2.2 other jobs for every green job that is created?

Yes, this was the truly depressing conclusion of a study published earlier this year by Dr Gabriel Calzada, a Spanish economics professor at Madrid’s Juan Carlos University.

“The study calculated that, since 2000, Spain spent $774,000 to create each “green job”, including subsidies of more than $1.3 million per wind industry job. It found that creating those jobs resulted in the destruction of nearly 113,000 jobs elsewhere in the economy, or 2.2 jobs destroyed for every “green job” created. Principally, jobs were lost in the fields of metallurgy, non-metallic mining and food processing, beverage and tobacco.”

Needless to say his BBC interviewer – the normally sound, but clearly not in this case Ed Stourton – did not call Miliband on this empty claim. Nor did Stourton raise any objection when Miliband produced the still-more-outrageous whopper that the English landscape is in greater danger from climate change than it is from windfarms. (Do read the great Christopher Booker on this subject today)

No it isn’t, Ed. Why do you think, all over the British countryside, there are dozens of campaign groups desperately trying to stop these monstrosities being erected on our beautiful landscape? Why do you think Miliband is now changing the planning laws so that local objections can be more easily overruled? Because no one, except a few politicians and eco-nutters and slippery eco-investors actually wants windfarms ruining Britain. Together with bio-fuels they’re arguably the greatest man-made eco-disaster of the last twenty years.

What a relief it would be to think that when New Labour are finally booted out, and Ed Miliband gets his new job as a mannikin in the shop window of Debenhams, that we’ll finally get a regime talking some sense on climate change.

Sadly, this is not to be. Cameron’s Conservatives are every bit as determined to impose ruinous carbon emissions targets on our groaning economy as Brown’s Socialists. Consider Tory energy spokesman Greg Clark’s pathetic response yesterday to Miliband’s “UK Low Carbon Transition Plan”.

Did Clark talk about the nonsense of green jobs? Did he protest about the 30 per cent rise in our energy prices? Did he point out the economic unfeasibility of trying to cut carbon emissions by 80 per cent by 2050? Did he talk about the imminent threat of brown-outs because of the energy gap caused by successive governments’ failure to duck the issue of nuclear power?

Er, no. He just said – like the joke Irishman giving directions who says “If you want to get there I wouldn’t start from here” – that “households would end up paying because of the Government’s failure to act soon enough.”

Related posts:

  1. Green jobs? Wot green jobs? (pt 242)
  2. Government’s £6 million ‘Bedtime Story’ climate change ad: most pernicious waste of taxpayers’ money ever?
  3. My moment of rock-star glory at a climate change sceptics’ conference in America
  4. ‘Green jobs’ and feed-in tariffs: rent-seeking parasites get their just desserts