The Russell Brand Phenomenon

The other day Russell Brand got himself a prestigious slot with Jeremy Paxman, presumably on the back of being a guest editor on the New Statesman, with a theme of revolution.

His somewhat wild rant to Paxman ‘went viral’, with a massive amount of support in the social media, but I found myself deeply critical of what he said – or more precisely what he didn’t say. I briefly expressed my concerns a couple of times in said social media, and found myself strongly challenged.

I decided to defend my position (which by the way I share with a few people a good deal more distinguished than I will ever be!).

One point that has been made to me was that at least he started a debate. True, but it was the wrong debate. The debate that Brand started, and which has become so popular, became all about what is wrong with the system, the crookedness and deceit of MPs, the pointlessness of voting and how the system looks after big business at the expense of us poor mortals.

My difficulty lies in what might be considered to be Mr Brand’s lack of ambition. Although he is claiming to be looking for a revolution, he is actually talking about protest, which is a much less powerful beast. In my mind, Brand’s protestations are a bit like the wailing of a child in a cot – he is unhappy, even distressed, but he doesn’t know why, he just wants someone else to come along and fix it!

He is right in one respect at least, which is that we do indeed need a revolution. But the point he misses is that a revolution always has a specific goal in mind. I am no historian, but there have been revolutions in Russia, Cuba, several South American countries, Tunisia, Libya, Syria, and even South Africa, and in every case the revolutionaries, whether successful or not, knew what they wanted to achieve, unlike Mr Brand, who only knows what he wants to destroy.

People who complain that their vote doesn’t count have it wrong – it always counts. To start with a candidate can gauge his level of support and plan for the next occasion. But in truth, a single voter cannot expect to see his or her personal wishes reflected in the National Parliament unless those wishes are shared by a majority of voters, because we have a representative democracy which doesn’t work like that.

Russell Brand has never voted and doesn’t see the point in doing so because he doesn’t like the system – and this view seems to be shared by millions of people. But where were all those people, Mr Brand included, when we were given a referendum on changing the voting system? I presume he didn’t vote then either!

I would like Mr Brand to know that he is not the first to despair of our current system. He is not the first to find fault with our financial services, or the support by Government for large and powerful organisations, or our broken agricultural and food supply chain models and much more. But if Mr Brand wants to use his celebrity status to change things, there are many organisations he could lend his support to with good effect. Here are some:

New Economic Foundation
Positive Money
Campaign for Real Farming
GM Freeze
Good Energy
The Green Party
Friends of the Earth
Greenpeace

And of course there are many more out there – you only have to look.

So wake up Mr Brand. The revolution has already started, and all these organisations are making it happen. I’m sorry if it isn’t happening quickly enough for you, but unlike protests, revolutions take time.

I Dined At Fifteen Cornwall Last Night…

I was being treated. It was my first time. I was collected at 7pm and driven (at nerve wracking speed!) through a pitch black gale-riven rain-drenched night; weather which would not allow me to experience the much praised view from the huge length of glass panelling overlooking the bay.

I had little idea what to expect, and my first impression was one of bright space. Lots of tables, but not crammed together; large tear-drop pendant lights, with, I am sure, energy efficient bulbs; and welcoming smiles. The atmosphere was one of friendly cheerfulness, without any of that pseudo-subservience found in so many ‘posh’ restaurants. There is mutual respect between staff and customers. And my goodness, those guys know their stuff!

James, the young man taking our orders, who had been working there for a couple of months, talked us through an extensive menu, explaining in fine detail how each dish was put together and how the components worked with each other to achieve an effect. His command of it was stunningly impressive, and someone soon will need to pay him very good money indeed to employ him!

Gordon is a world-class sommelier. I was not going to be asked to choose the wine I would drink – I was going to be told, not only what wine would be served with each course, but why, with an explanation of how the grape was grown, where it was grown, why it was different from wines from neighbouring vineyards, and something about the people who make the wine. Pretentious? Not on your life. Gordon knows his stuff to a daunting degree (I have never been that expert at anything) and wanted to impart as much of that knowledge as possible in the short time available. None of that ‘A suspicion of gorse in the breeze’ crap but pure unadulterated expertise in a language anyone could feel comfortable with. He even suggested to me that after experiencing the Soave he produced, I should keep the taste in mind and try a supermarket Soave the next day to see the difference! My response – I would rather not, as the next Soave I would drink would almost certainly come from a Supermarket, because of budgetary constraints.

As the food was served, discreetly without fuss, there was none of that ‘OK, who’s having the crab?’! Everyone, including Gordon, knew which of us had ordered what. Each course turned up exactly when we were ready, together with fresh glasses for the next wine. Used plates and cutlery were cleared equally discreetly. And all the while there were cheerful smiles.

Without wishing to get too sugary, I am bound to say that in a very literal sense the whole thing worked like a symphony. The food, the wine, the service, the cheerful respect, nothing either overdone or underdone (I don’t mean just the food) contrived to produce a dining experience you would need to go a long way to match.

And consider where this experience comes from. Jamie Oliver set up a charity called Cornwall Food Foundation, which is funded largely from the restaurant, and whose purpose in a nutshell is to give young men and women from less than ideal backgrounds the chance to learn to become top class chefs. With expert teaching and support these young people, working side by side with skilled professionals, produce meals such as the one that I enjoyed.

Is it worth the money? That question cannot be answered. The menu prices are by my standards eye-watering.

Is a £500,000 house worth the money? Or a £50,000 car? Not to me! I don’t need it and wouldn’t be interested even if I could afford it. But to other people with different standards and priorities? Presumably yes.

Is it worth spending that kind of money to support this extremely effective charity? Without question, if you can afford it.

If I had to pay next time, would I go again? If the credit card would stand it, if the occasion or the company called for it, then absolutely without question!