ONE of the most audacious achievements of the pseudo-pandemic regime was when the government succeeded in getting the public to call for the closure of pubs. Schools had already shut, and mainstream media were used to cast blokes still going out for a pint as selfish and stupid. Tim Martin, head of the vast Wetherspoons chain, was criticised for failing to close his venues voluntarily. What do you expect for a Brexiteer? The authorities had widespread support for doing the right thing.
Before the complete covid closure, Twitter was a site for snitches to report public health transgressions (whether fact or fiction) at the local Wetherspoons: no social distancing; customers walking in and out without a mask; staff still allowing drinkers to pay with germ-harbouring notes and coins. Of course, this resumed once pubs were permitted to reopen, when a set of ridiculous rules applied across the country. For example, you were barred from talking to anyone at another table, and as soon as you stood up, you had to be masked (not that I complied with any of that nonsense).
Covid-19 demonstrated two aspects of the dominant middle-class culture. First, the lust for conformity and control. The term ‘the great unwashed’ for the lower classes was writ large, with adults treated like children because they would not understand the science of a virus. Secondly, the puritanical zeal by which any fun had by the ordinary people was suppressed with relish. The intelligentsia showed themselves as snobs and snitches.
In the latest issue of Wetherspoons’ in-house magazine, Tim Martin exposed a clear illustration of such patronising attitude. He published correspondence from a customer and himself to Ian Hislop, star of the BBC series Have I Got News for You. Lynn Picknett wrote to the celebrity, tired of his persistent denigration of Wetherspoons. She wrote that after initially finding his satirical remarks funny, ‘the first dozen or so times’, the repeated ‘smearing and sniping’ had gone too far. Why so obsessed with a particular pub business?
The customer rightly linked Hislop’s animus to BBC bias against Brexit, which Tim Martin had supported. She ended her letter by stating that she is ‘a fan of your documentaries’. Hislop replied, accepting her point about his generalisation, but he went on to state that on a recent visit to a Wetherspoons in Wales, he witnessed a fight (‘woman beating up her husband’) and ‘underage dealers trying to sell drugs even cheaper than the cut-price shots’.
Martin doubted the veracity of Hislop’s story and wrote to him seeking further information. If the drug-peddling claim were true, it would certainly be cause for enquiry and intervention. Hislop declined to help, further fuelling doubt. Wetherspoons for him is a device of social class reinforcement, and artistic licence applies.
Back in 2017, the largest Wetherspoons opened in Ramsgate. The former Royal Victoria Pavilion (a name retained by the pub) was previously a seedy casino. The Sunday Times sent its restaurant reviewer Marina O’Loughlin to try it. Her scathing review may have been enjoyed by metropolitan progressives, but it outraged a corner of Kent. Notably, O’Loughlin had a dig at Martin, arguing that his renovation ‘isn’t about community or heritage, but profit’. Well yes, Marina, businesses don’t survive unless they make money, but to deny Martin’s interest in social history and culture was an ignorant remark. The walls of every branch of Wetherspoons are adorned with framed pictures of local people and events, with explanatory notes. I would suggest that a visitor would find more information on a town at the Wetherspoons than at the local museum, the latter likely to be turned over to woke propaganda.
Martin is a stout defender of Britain’s rich brewing heritage. In many pubs, you would be lucky to get a pint of cask ale in good condition. Generations of men have been weaned on processed, mass-marketed lagers, so the hardly pulled hand pumps are taken out of service. At Wetherspoons, you will always have a choice of at least half a dozen ales, including some from small independent brewers.
The snobs won’t let the facts get in the way of a good story. The truth is that Wetherspoons has become a demeaning symbol for the working class. When George Orwell described the ideal pub, he named it ‘The Moon Under Water’, a theme followed by some of the early Wetherspoons. In his books and essays, Orwell exposed the contempt of the English middle class for the lower orders, and he would not have been surprised that a popular place for the common folk to meet would be so tarnished at Islington dinner parties.
If there could be an eleventh commandment, I’d make it against snobbery. Chairman Mao sent intellectuals to the farms for re-education. Perhaps, the privileged critics of Wetherspoons could learn some respect and fellowship by serving at one of the contemporary ‘people’s palaces’.
