Welcome to the jungle

When I first heard that Nigel Farage had agreed to go on this year’s season of ‘I’m a Celebrity… Get Me Out of Here!’, I rung my hands, laughed, and popped my proverbial popcorn in the metaphorical microwave.

‘Seeing this tube trapped in a jungle with a dozen probably-quite-annoying b-list celebrities is going to be priceless,” I thought.

However, just as I was waiting for my corn to pop, the potential for a publicity disaster – and one that favoured Farage! – began to dawn on me.

There is a big debate these days about whether you should give certain people a voice: ‘To platform or deplatform?’, that is the question. If a person is politically poisonous, habitually dishonest, or downright dangerous, should they be given the chance to broadcast their views?

It is an interesting argument, and there are basically two camps in the debate.

The first side say that a platform can also be a gallows, and that sunlight is the best disinfectant.

In other words, these people, who are generally characterised as free speech advocates, believe that the best way to prove someone is full of bad intentions or harmful ideas is to give them the chance to express themselves.

In their view, preventing divisive or hateful figures from speaking in public is to allow their views to go unchallenged. They reckon that going toe-to-toe with them is the only way to show them up for who they really are.

Then, lobbing stones from the other side of the barricade, there are those that think we should deny demagogues and agitators the opportunity to share their views and opinions in the first place.

Their position is simple and their objection is quite compelling: Why would we allow bad people the chance to spread their dangerous ideas, when we can just silence them by suffocation instead?

Well, despite the clear logic of those who favour the old pillow-over-the-face approach, I am pretty much always with those who opt for open debate and dialogue as the way to win any war of ideas.

However, there is a crucial condition that must be that satisfied in order for this approach to work, and that is the presence of a smart, well-informed opponent, whether that be a clued-in journalist that is going pursue a rigorous line of inquiry, or another politician who is going to persuasively put forward the other side of the debate.

In the jungle this year, there is nobody who fits either of these descriptions, which is exactly why my initial excitement to see Farage in there was so quickly tempered.

Without anyone to challenge him, with a touch of sophistry, the knack for which the cartoon-faced cretin undeniably has, I feared that Farage could simply bulldoze through the soap stars and DJs, present a more palatable version of his unsavoury sentiments, and make himself look pretty likeable in the process.

I have only seen short bits of the show this year, and I have heard comforting reports from more regular viewers that the producers have permitted the former UKIP leader little to no screen time to discuss politics.

In addition, I have also been reassured to hear that he is not coming across like the jovial uncle that I feared he may have, and instead has appeared like a rather conventional, guarded, out-of-touch politician.

Hopefully, other people have responded the same and this whole thing does not prove a PR coup for Farage – a man who we must never forget is not only one of the chief bringers of Brexit, but somebody whose anti-immigration stance often seems less to do with pressures on the NHS and more to do with an ugly allegiance to English nationalism, and who, despite having been mealy-mouthed when denouncing homophobic remarks expressed by fellow UKIP members, is also so sickened by the sight of the female form that he once recommended breastfeeding mothers should ‘perhaps sit in a corner’.