Journalist Rod Liddle has taken another swipe at grouse shooting with the following article in The Sunday Times yesterday:
It’s not the first time – last year his criticism of grouse shooting prompted furious responses from the Countryside Alliance and GWCT, although BASC bizarrely used it as an opportunity to hurl abuse at Megan McCubbin (you can read their full-on attack here).
Liddle doesn’t appear to be a fan of the Countryside Alliance in general, writing an article for the Guardian in 2002 about the London march to save fox hunting, which ultimately led to his resignation from the BBC after a backlash accusing him of not being impartial (see here and here).
Hmm, given this trophy scalp perhaps it explains why the nasty brigade keeps urging the BBC to sack Chris Packham. ‘If they got rid of Liddle, why not Packham?’, is what they’ll be telling themselves.
Here’s the text of Liddle’s latest piece published in The Sunday Times yesterday:
RED KITES ARE GLORIOUS. MURDERING THEM IN AID OF A SHOOT-‘EM-UP FOR SPIVS IS GROTESQUE
Rod Liddle
A red kite was found hanging from a tree a couple of hundred yards from where I live in the north Pennine. Its death was at first a mystery and I wondered if, hideously depressed by the government’s failure to lower taxes or get a grip of the migrant issue, it had killed itself. Kites are notoriously right wing. But the bird’s carcass was sent off to a lab and all became very clear. The creature had been poisoned with carbofuran and bendiocarb – two illegal pesticides still used, surreptitiously, by gamekeepers. It had also been shot. So they had tried to kill this rather lovely bird at least twice – to protect those flapping, panicking idiots the red grouse.
That it was gamekeepers to blame is beyond reasonable doubt. I live in an area notorious for their swift dispatch of pretty much all living creatures. The 2021 edition of the RSPB’s Birdcrime report revealed that 71 per cent of all raptor persecution incidents related to land managed for the shooting of game birds, and every one of those prosecuted were gamekeepers. Kites – and buzzards – have been found dead here before this, with the same toxic substances inside them.
It was the so-called Glorious Twelfth last weekend, and the guns were blazing. Grouse moors make up 7 per cent of our land and provide a magnificent total of 1,500 full-time jobs. The claim that local communities benefit indirectly is a myth: the City boys arrive, they are lodged on the estates, they get driven out to the ranges, they fire away and they go home. In Scotland is is estimated that the gamekeepers kill 250,000 animals to allow people to kill 300,000 grouse.
Every way you look at this industry – from the point of view of economics, morality, the environment, biodiversity, land use – its existence is an absurdity. I asked one gamekeeper up here what proportion of supposed “vermin” he intended to kill. He replied: “The aim is for 100 per cent, but some slip through the net”.
These vermin include all our magnificent birds of prey (including kites, which feed mainly on carrion), mountain hares (which carry a tick dangerous to the bloody grouse), foxes, badgers, stoats, weasels and pine martens (in Scotland – they’ve already made them extinct in England). You walk up onto the moor tops – potentially our most beautiful scenery – and find yourself in a depopulated and scorched, treeless moonscape, the very antithesis of nature. All we have is million upon million of rabbits, hopping about in the blackened heather as if they were in a post-nuclear-holocaust Teletubbies set.
The game lobby will insist that they are protecting wildlife and point to the curlew, a hooting wraith from the wetlands, as a case in point. They cling to the curlew as a spider clings to the side of a bath as the water rises beneath it. Sure, there are curlew on the moor tops, for part of the year, and the occasional golden plover, lapwing and meadow pipit. But precious little else, in this vast and – when the heather’s not on fire – majestic scenery.
They will also tell you that they are protecting a historic way of life and topography. Well, not that historic: we’ve had intensively driven grouse moors for about 150 years, so it’s as traditionally British as football hooliganism. It is true that, as the lobby claims, the scenery is unique to Britain – no other country would put up with it. The burning of the heather – which enables new shoots to grow for the delectation of the grouse – is awful for the environment and climate change.
All this happens because a handful of people want to shoot birds that fly as if they’ve just eaten a full English breakfast after a heavy night on the piss. Talk about hitting a barn door with a banjo.
I have no objection to people shooting game birds for food. In many ways it is vastly preferable to the rest of the meat industry. Nor do I have much animus against the rich folks who own the land, whether they be the Arab rich folks who own the moors to my north or the rich hedge fund monkeys who own the moors to my west. I don’t even have a vast loathing for the City boys who provide the income. My complaint isn’t motivate by class hatred or envy.
Indeed, I would argue that we should increase subsidies to the landowners, provided that they rewild their estates. Wildlife tourism is far, far more popular – and remunerative – than grouse shooting: last year five times as many people visited one single RSPB reserve (Slimbridge in Gloucestershire) as took part in all the country’s grouse shoots. That’s just one, smallish reserve.
Imagine the benefit to the villages and towns if our upland areas had a true diversity of wildlife, rather than being managed deliberately to exclude the very creatures people want to see. But the wealth and political heft of the landowners, as well as their own lack of imagination, means we are left with the barren, charred expanse of grouseland.
ENDS