I have never met George Monbiot, and I know nothing personally about him to his discredit. I have no reason to think that he is other than polite to shopkeepers, considerate to other road-users, fond of animals, a staunch friend, a sound family man, a respectful and affectionate son. I can only judge the keeper of the Guardian’s green conscience from the tone of his writing, and I don’t much care for it.
Each week for ten years or so Monbiot has ascended the pulpit provided for him by successive Guardian editors to preach his world view. It is one permeated with disgust at the way we live, contempt for our institutions and political establishment, and disdain for his fellow countrymen and women for their supine acquiescence in the power-and-profit conspiracy engineered by the Western powers and multinational corporations.
Climate change has furnished a perfect parable of greed, selfishness and stupidity to sustain Monbiot’s assault on the corrupt world we have made for ourselves.
Comments
Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just $5 for 3 monthsAlready a subscriber? Log in