Eric Gill, Rolf Harris, Michael Jackson, Noel Clarke, Prince Andrew, Edward Colston. When you read the above list of names what comes to mind first? Excellent graphic artist, excellent painter, excellent singer, excellent actor, director and writer, some-time naval pilot and heir to the throne, noble philanthropist? OR, respectively, suspected of incest and bestiality, child abuse, child abuse again, suspected abuse of women and the same again, and slave trading? Keep in mind, also, Paul Gambaccini, Cliff Richards and, most recently, Alex Salmond.
Two past esteemed political leaders, Bill Clinton and Lloyd George, had well documented affairs. The Edward Colston fall from grace 300 years after his death I reflected upon four years ago (Sofia 124). Since then, the pace of disclosure and retribution has speeded up somewhat. This time I want to consider an issue highlighted by more recent figures, their reputations all made and, to various degrees, broken by the modern media. Eric Gill produced his fine art work in the 1920s and 1930s and his exposure as a much less than moral man came about, publicly at least, only 50 years after his death. In recent times the fall from grace has been more swift. Worse, it has often been almost total before the evidence has been formally deliberated upon by the courts, as in the current case of Noel Clarke. What exercises me the most is the implication that, once the finger has been pointed, and particularly if allegations are subsequently proven to be justified, we tend not only to cast the perpetrators into outer darkness, perhaps fairly, but with them their positive accomplishments. So, with the incarceration of the individual, are their talents gone for good? If they were, in any sense, great or gifted in their field, do they, because of their failings in other areas of their private lives, cease to be good all of a sudden? If they were ever good, then they are good still, surely?
The all-pervasive media has much to answer for. I am minded of the discussion at the Debating Society of which I am a member when we considered ‘Boyhood [sic] heroes are not what they used to be’ – (this was before the admission of lady members!). From the 1950s through to the 1970s, when most of those present were growing up, great cricketers, tennis players, racing drivers and the like were all in the news. The news was always good news back then, private lives far more respected than today. More often than not, a Yorkshireman was not only captain of his county but captain of England. All seemed well with the world, and seemed as if it always would be. Ray Illingworth, Freddie Truman and Geoff Boycott (made no less a great cricketer by more recent claims of an abusive relationship, surely?) for example, were Yorkshire. Guy Gibson, whose legendary wartime courage and leadership resulted in the famous Dambusters Raid in 1943, was for many a national hero. Does our knowledge of the complex moral history of some of these allow us to keep the heroes that children, and some adults, have today?
Incidentally, what have Paul Gambaccini, Cliff Richards and Alex Salmond got in common? All three were public figures accused of sexual offences, their private lives dragged through the mud. All three were subsequently exonerated.