My Honest Thoughts on Clarkson's Farm TWO

Captain Controversy is back in his combine, with the much-anticipated agricultural epic getting its due sequel. Thwarting impending cancellation owing to his fruity opinions, the Amazon Prime hit was widely welcomed by the Diddly Squat ultras. The man behind the operation may be subject to scrutiny at every turn but there was arguable dispensation, given the success of series one. A sequel is a tough act to follow so would it glisten like its predecessor or stink like silage?

Warning!!!! SPOILERS!!!!!!!!! Get Amazon Prime, watch all eight episodes and start again.

If you can’t stand Clarkson, enjoy!

Three strikes and you’re out tends to be the rule. If Clarkson played baseball, he’d be massively outstaying his innings. The man is contentious and always has been yet he remains a star man in the media. His outspoken opinions have not yet seen his empire crumble, in spite of some heavy blows. I’m not sitting here defending him in any way but what I will say is that Clarkson’s Farm remains a perfect tonic if you indulge in schadenfreude. Let’s not escape the glaringly obvious fact that he’s the head honcho, the reliable TV frontman drawing viewers in. This doesn’t mean it’s solely reading from his script. As with the first, the second series works best when Clarkson himself is undermined. He slices half his thumb off whilst making crisps. He is literally attacked by a fence. His best-made plans fall apart at nearly every turn. If you despise the man, you’ll get an ironic chuckle or two from his misfortune. Most importantly, the fabric of the show is the supporting cast of relatable and grounded individuals focused on the realities of farming. Renaming the show to ‘Life on a British Farm’ or ‘A year in the countryside’ doesn’t have any appeal at all, think of Clarkson as essentially the mortar. Cut out Jeremy and let Kaleb run the farm; what a show that would be.

Forced antics?

Series one saw Diddly Squat welcome sheep, in a bid to supply fresh meat and wool. Along comes series two and the sheep are swiftly swept under the carpet. It’s out with the old and in with the moo, as Clarkson’s latest scheme sees cows rock up. You can’t help but feel that this is a move to spice up the content from one season to the next, given another year of shepherding would wear thin. From an entertainment perspective, adding the jeopardy of bovine tuberculosis into the mix made the ‘plot’ all the more tantalising. A strategy such as this could only be feasible on the farm run by the presenter of Who Wants To Be A Millionaire. There are probably plenty of sheep farmers who dream of being able to up tools and change their livestock completely. Is this a fair reflection of modern farming? Other moments include buying chickens to ‘ecologically’ rejuvenate the soil and driving a drill into a telegraph pole, deliberately whilst the cameras were rolling. Although the first series was rife with realistic challenges, the quandaries throughout the second feel just slightly more synthetic.

Wildlife wildlife wildlife!

This is something that probably went under the radar but how glorious were the filler shots of all the farmland flora and fauna? It didn’t go unnoticed by my nature nerd eyes and despite there not being an entire episode dedicated to conservation-friendly farming in this series, there was still enough transition footage to indicate a bio-diverse landscape. White fallow deer, buff yellowhammers and fields filled with finches; glorious. A personal highlight is one particular drone shot with a gliding red kite surveying the acreage below. An iconic bird with an immense backdrop. This series doesn’t shy away from painting an idyllic picture of what the English countryside should look like, with agriculture and the environment calmly coexisting. Let’s shy away from the reality that farmland species are struggling nationwide owing to continued habitat degradation, but at least Clarkson is trying? He’s got a lot of carbon to offset.

Badger belittling?

Clarkson giveth with one hand and taketh away with the other. I am in no way promoting the demise of cattle owing to bTB and from literally living in the countryside, I am very much aware of the disastrous consequences this disease has on the livelihoods of farmers. The series does this too without any sugar-coating. I admire that the public has supported Emma the dairy farmer, hopefully saving her from the brink, but how many farms aren’t or weren't that lucky? A unanimous agreement is that bovine tuberculosis is evil, we’re all aligned on that. From my naturalist side, I can’t help but feel that the badger cull debate was handled from a very one-sided perspective. It meant that badgers, the unassuming vectors, are now also evil in the eyes of the viewers. The Great British public doesn’t need any more incentive to despise a wild creature, it’s practically a predisposition. Drafting in a conservationist and an ecologist to give professional advice on the abundance of badgers on his land, I’ll give him that. I take umbrage with the fact the discussion only went as far as complaining about the stringent legislation protecting badgers. Call it nitpicking but perhaps there could have been a wider discussion about vaccines (which are being worked on) and the notion that culling individual badgers doesn’t show a significant decrease in the spread of bTB (as studies are showing). It’s a fractious topic at the most civil of times yet maybe a counterargument would’ve levelled the playing field.

Damn you, red tape!

Every good story has a villain and in series two, the antagonists come in many different forms. Primarily, it’s the rules and restrictions that fence off any ability for Clarkson to run his farm smoothly or with any semblance of fun. From the small scale village consultations to the giant political monster of Brexit, Jeremy is scuppered with hurdle after hurdle. His battles neatly highlighted the contradictions of farmers being deprived of subsidies but simultaneously not being allowed to fill the void left behind. The crux of the series is his pursuit of opening a restaurant, which would bring economic benefits to the local area, support neighbouring struggling farmers and give hope to others that diversification can work. However, because one councillor was worried about light pollution, this initial grand venture was given a hiding. Regulatory bodies are involved in planning applications for a reason, to make sure everything stays in line, but you can’t help feeling like raw opinion came into this? This plan may well have been deemed a media stunt, thus not given the time of day. Aside from this, are there any farmers watching this truly inspired that a similar idea could get off the ground, given the obstacles? Spoiler alert, the restaurant has now closed down for good, with the council winning in the end. As a bigger question; is the red tape in place for the greater good (the greater good) or is it defying logic at this point? If Clarkson can’t build a track on his own land, there’s a small indicator.

Farming is impossible.

Clarkson and Cooper rightfully won an award for flying the flag for British farming and in series two, the flag remained aloft. Albeit slumped in dismay, this otherwise heartwarming show continued to broadcast the struggles that agriculture in this country faces. Glossy and sentimental at times, the content stuck to its roots of exposing the constant barrage of theoretical manure that is thrown farmers' way. The lazy critique is to bring up the obvious fact that abundantly wealthy Clarkson’s exploits don’t reflect every other British farm, but the fact he still runs unprofitably, despite a fortune, proves truly how dire the situation is. It shone a light on the staff shortage struggles that the pork industry face, the pressure beef farmers have to rear their livestock and how Vladimir Putin invading Ukraine skyrocketed the price of fertilisers. No sign of government support, increasingly unpredictable weather and a debilitating cost of living crisis. Life is tough right now but imagine being a farmer. If you are a farmer, I feel for you.

In summary, it ticks the boxes for being both educational and entertaining with the only drawback being the enigma of Clarkson himself. I recommend this show to so many people and the general reaction is disdain. The man has more critics than fans, meaning that getting over his eccentricities is too much for some. My advice, for any doubters, is to look beyond the curly-headed poster boy and enjoy literally everyone else who makes the series actually worthwhile. It’s wholesome yet heartbreaking. It’s inspiring yet despairing. It’s binge-worthy entertainment at its finest, with shades of that usual top-gear-esque artistic licence.

Anthropomorphising Animals - Helpful or Harmful?

By now, you must have heard the jarring news that the BBC have made the radical decision to cancel Autumnwatch. I’m not gutted, honestly. This definitely was not a formative piece of broadcasting that helped to reinforce my love of British wildlife. Cutting costs completely makes sense(!)

The reaction has been wholly negative, aside from the Countryside Alliance, who have come out to welcome the decision, on the basis of the show’s ‘unrealistic and anthropomorphic approach’. This statement, whilst likely being designed to stir controversy, has in fact raised an interesting quandary that’s had nature lovers and scientists lock horns over the years. An unspoken undertone to an otherwise shared passion. Should the natural world be personified?

On the surface, this debate is pretty petty with a clear cut answer. There is nothing damaging about giving animals a personality. We do it all the time with our moody cats and and erratic dogs, what’s so wrong about admiring a feisty canada goose or a nervy grey squirrel? That’s genuinely what they are. Humans naturally communicate with one another both verbally and via emotional cues, so it makes sense that we’d imprint those same cues when trying to read animals. Adding a human quirk to your garden visitors won’t endanger them in any way. Your partner won’t get jealous if you go on about how beautiful the local robin is (hopefully). It’s not a crime, so you’re surely fine.

To contrast the feelings of the heart with that of the head, the opposition to this notion is that of distancing our wild world from society. The stock phrase that riles up biological science purists, that stems from Autumnwatch and its compatriots, is ‘cute’. This otherwise positively reinforcing phrase is arguably belittling and ranks certain animals alongside human babies and household pets. To grade a species as adorable is to discern respect and make it practically synthetic. By painting a picture of idyllic cuddly creatures living in harmony, you contradict all of the work of behavioural biologists. Millions of years of a species’ evolution, only to be compared to puppy or a doll. Our planet’s organisms are subject to scrupulous science, both for their and our own benefit. Studying them must be done within the bounds of professionalism, without delving into the dangerous waters of assumption. By anthropomorphising, it muddies the water between reality and fiction. Do birds sing for joy? Do young carnivores play fight for the vibes?

To quickly answer these potentially theoretical questions: Yes, and no. A study showed that some bird species have two types of song, a purposeful one and a rehearsal. This second type of song was found to produce opioids in the bird’s brain, a positively reinforcing chemical. Whereas play has widely been studied and linked to vital behavioural development in young animals. There isn’t enough evidence to suggest that such play results in ‘joy’, but it’s probably a stretch to label it as a fun activity.

The human race desperately wants everything on Earth to align with the same way of thinking. If we could talk to our cars and our houses, we would. The enigma of not being able to understand nature is beyond baffling, so adding relatable attributes is an evident coping mechanism. If we want to get philosophical, the two tribes at war likely disagree as to whether modern Homo sapiens are a part OF or APART FROM nature, which is a debate that has raged on for decades. It broadly depends on what flavour of anthropology that you’re into. Of course, more agricultural, industrial and exploitative brains want the great outdoors at arms length, whereas devout environmentalists strive to embrace and nurture it instead.

Is it immature to personify wildlife? A fair consensus is that younger outdoor explorers are susceptible to seeing animals in a fluffier and more characterful light, but this is hardly a negative. There’s not a single grown birdwatcher, ecologist or conservationist that was solely fed on a diet of Attenborough documentaries and journals. Bright colouring books, joyous animated films and interactive displays at zoos all help to spark a passion. Whilst leading children down the perceived slippery slope of anthropomorphism, it sets them off on their journey, filling a void that may have been consumed by another hobby. Without a sprinkling of poetic licence, wildlife wouldn’t be half as fun.

Shall we get to the point? The art of anthropomorphism gives the otherwise silent world of animal behaviour some tangible sound. It fosters a connection not too dissimilar with how we’re brought up to make friends. In the case of Autumnwatch, it’s attempting to present what is widely perceived to be a bland subject, whilst adding a bit of spice. The point of the series is to breakdown the barrier between the public and its surrounding wildlife. Call it crass or unethical but it’s trying to appeal with as wide an audience as possible. Strachan may put on a gushy front, but anyone who actually watches the show will know it’s also peppered with some insightful modern science. It isn’t all a flora and fauna love-in.

Should I anthropomorphise? My answer, do what you like. If you want to name your local badger, just don’t forget it’s a wild animal that mustn’t be interfered with. If you want to revel in the positivity of birdsong, don’t let any stiff-nosed know-it-all ruin that fun. Nature is of course something to analyse scientifically, but no one’s stopping your imagination run wild, if that’s what bonds your connection to it. It’s not a firm answer so… sorry if you wanted one!

(If you want to save Autumnwatch, I think there’s a petition. Up to you though.)