Additional materials

Strand B

Relating to Section B10

Language and lifestyle politics

In the book we have focused on political discourse in the traditional meaning of the term. We turn here to a different kind of politics.

In A10 we briefly touched upon a phenomenon in contemporary politics, often described as ‘subpolitics’ (Beck 1999), or ‘lifestyle politics’ (Bennett 2003). We have to remember that the concept of ‘lifestyle’ goes beyond the pursuit of leisure and consumption and that ‘lifestyle politics’ involves the expression of individual rights and an awareness of the social responsibilities linked to a certain lifestyle.

A good illustration from Britain of lifestyle-oriented political engagement is where somebody outside the established political system, such as a celebrity chef, critiques existing forms of social organization. A case in point is chef Jamie Oliver, whose School Dinners TV campaign contributed largely to Government action to improve food in schools and to impose constraints on the junk food industry. This ‘mediatized political activism’ (Talbot 2007), conducted through an online petition and the medium of reality TV, has turned the previously mundane issue of food production and consumption in schools into a debate which has risen to the top of the political agenda in the Labour government.

Oliver’s damning critique of school meals prompted the Labour government of the day to create the ‘School Food Trust’, an independent body charged with putting Oliver’s suggestions into practice. Oliver also managed to secure £280m from the government to rebuild kitchens in some schools, to retrain school cooks (‘dinner ladies’). He even received an award for ‘most inspiring political figure’ of 2005 in the Channel 4 political awards, triumphing in a shortlist that included Tony Blair and Bob Geldof.

One important part of Oliver’s ‘quest’ for healthy food was his successful campaign against the provision of schools with ‘Turkey Twizzlers’ (spiral strips of reconstituted turkey meat). The following quote is taken from a part of the TV series where he visits Peterlee, a northern English town with a particularly bad health record. Sitting on the grass on a Peterlee housing estate, he addresses the viewer thus:

Fucking Turkey Twizzlers I tell you what I’m gonna fucking send a bomb round their factory to shove it right up the jacksie of the MD. If you are watching Mr Turkey Twizzler can you do me a favour and just … [exhales]. It’s very easy for people to say oh you are alright Jamie I bet you have a farmer’s market you are a chef you get all the best stuff yeah so what that’s not what this you know I’m I’m not doing this experiment to because I’m gonna send my kids to state school ‘cos they ain’t gonna go to state school are they let’s be honest right. I am doing this because I want the kids to eat better food I want the kids to be healthier I want them to grow up with better habits I want us to have a fucking cooler, better, cleverer, healthier nation.

In this emotional and passionate plea against Turkey Twizzlers, Oliver acts as a spokesman on behalf of children against an uncaring Government and an exploitative food industry. Unlike many politicians, he comes across as authentic, ordinary, honest (for example in his admission that his children will not go to state school) and ‘cool’, challenging authority in a ‘cheeky chappy’ manner, and expressing indifference to political decorum, expressed not least in his profuse swearing.

School Dinners portrays its ambitious quest for improving pupils’ and, more ambitiously, the nation’s diet largely as a question of lifestyle choices parents should make for themselves and their children. It is imbued with a ‘can-do’ optimism (Palmer 2004) and therefore fits perfectly into an enterprise culture which sees the ‘self as a project’.

As part of his campaign Oliver also organized an outdoor event (‘Hot Dinners for Imps’) in a bid to reintroduce hot meals to Lincolnshire schools. For the event he brought together local schools, parents and their children, pub owners, suppliers and food industry representatives. In the following excerpt, Oliver addresses a large crowd of local food producers, restaurant owners, teachers, parents and children from Lincolnshire. He has picked three people from the crowd, a head teacher, a vegetable grower and a restaurant owner:

Between these three people and the help and commitment of you parents here we can get we can solve this problem. It might only be a short-term problem, but don’t expect anything from the government, nothing’s gonna happen quick and I really think you need hot proper meals in this in this county … We’ve got to get proper food back in this county right and this is the answer: if you lot can get together, bring back that community and pull this off everyone around the country is gonna copy and I promise you if the government sees you lot moving and changing things we’ll find money. Last year they said they had no money, we found 220 million pounds. Right we will find it. Thank you guys, lots of love and thank you for coming.

The notion of community participation and activism (‘if you lot can get together, bring back the community and pull this off ‘), which Oliver is advocating here, is significant. There is the notion that people have to take matters into their own hands (‘don’t expect anything from the government’). Oliver’s use of ‘we’ is central to the process of establishing and maintaining a sense of commonality and inclusion. (We’ve got to get proper food back in this county’). At times, it looks like a kind of ‘directive we’ (Fowler 1991), meaning actually ‘you’ (we can get we can solve this problem’; ‘We’ve got to get proper food back’). This inclusive use of pronouns are what O’Keefe (2006: 97) calls markers of ‘pseudo-intimacy’, commonly used by politicians to create ‘common ground’ and to build trust with the audience.

The same notion of personal responsibility for change and individual choice has also been an important part of the rhetoric of New Labour in Britain (see Fairclough 2000). It might be argued that far from being an unwelcome critic of the Government, Oliver touts New Labour’s line on food and health being in the hands of the individual citizen-consumer.

Mayr (2009) suggests that School Dinners’ mediatized political activism is a typical form of late modern political engagement, in which ‘effective activist political communication is increasingly characterized by a lifestyle vocabulary anchored in consumer choice and personal display of social responsibility’ (Bennett 2003). Although critical of the Labour government and its apparent neglect of school children, the campaign is ultimately not so different from the Government’s own use of a personalized rhetoric of choice and lifestyle to communicate its political messages to citizens, which now mainly focus on basic policy areas such as health and education. As Furedi remarks, ‘this politicization of individual lifestyle is directly proportional to the depoliticization of public life’ (2006: 2). The preoccupation with lifestyle issues is one of the most significant developments in public policy over the past two decades.

 

Strand C

Relating to Section C2

The exercises in the book offer an opportunity to explore the relationship between register and ideology, reinforcing Strand 2’s analysis of the ideological operation of specialised registers, such as the register of war used by official institutions and governments. As a related activity, consider this excerpt from an American Department of Defense newsletter on the use of new laser weaponry, the headline of which was commented upon in B2.

Light consists of bunches of electro-magnetic waves known as photons … What a laser does is to line all these little rascals up in the same direction … the light intensity is brighter than Pittsburgh after the Super Bowl. The beam stays focused over great distances – well enough say for a modest-sized laser to heat a pot of coffee a thousand miles away … It could easily intercept an enemy missile in flight, burn a hole through the missile and maybe melt the guidance system. Or it could cook the warhead until it explodes harmlessly somewhere out in space. Moreover, there's no need to ‘lead’ the target. In duck-hunting, skeet-shooting and present-day missile intercepting, you have to shoot somewhere ahead of your target … Not so with a laser beam.

(adapted from Moss 1985: 52–4)

  • To what extent does this passage mix registers of discourse? What different fields of discourse can you identify here?
  • What in this context do you feel is achieved by register-mixing? What perspective is created on the new laser weaponry?

 

Relating to Section C3

Alongside Cockney rhyming slang, the book introduces the French antilanguage Verlan. Here are some examples of Verlan (in its more recent guise).

What linguistic features govern the process of relexicalization from standard French in the examples?

Can you identify the missing items?

French term

Verlan (phase 1)

 

Verlan (phase 2)

femme

→   meuf

 

 

punk

→   keupon

 

 

une fête

→   une teuf

 

 

flic

→   keufli

keuf

Bonjour, ça va

→   Jourbon, ça av

 

 

tirer (steal)

→   reti

 

 

louche (shady)

→   chelou

 

 

bizarre

→   ??

 

 

musique

→   ??

 

 

racaille (unruly mob)

→   ??

 

 

bourgeoise

→   ??

 

 

black

→   kebla

??

vas-y

→   ?? va

 

 

Laisse tomber

→   laisse ??

 

 

 

Relating to Section C4

In B4 we saw that an analysis of transitivity and naming patterns can reveal that much media discourse is constructed around stereotyped notions of women (Jewkes 2004). Women who fail to conform to the cultural stereotypes of the maternal, caring and monogamous woman or who are in some way involved or implicated in a very serious crime are often ‘punished symbolically by the media’ (Jewkes 2004: 114). In the tabloids, in particular, the ‘deviant’ woman constitutes one of the main cultural and social anxieties in the popular press. One example is the case of Maxine Carr, former girlfriend of Ian Huntley, a caretaker at a school in Soham (England), who killed two schoolgirls. During the trial, Carr was accused of perverting the course of justice by lying for her ‘lover’ Ian Huntley. The following headlines, taken from news reports in the Daily Mail between 2003 and 2004, demonstrate this ‘symbolic punishment’ of Carr.

Maxine defended lover Huntley

Maxine knew the truth and lied

Carr ‘stood by her man’

Carr had affair with teen lover Carr cheated on Huntley with teenager

Girls ‘lured’ by Maxine’s friendship

Drifter [i.e. Huntley] obsessed with younger girls

Huntley asked about ‘sexual motive’

Maxine’s night out on the town

While it is to be expected that Ian Huntley is condemned in no uncertain terms as a murderer with a possible sexual motive, Maxine Carr is also vilified, although she had nothing to do with the killings of the two girls.

  • What does the transitivity in these headlines tell us about the representation of Maxine Carr?
  • How is she named in the headlines? Is it different from the way Huntley is named and why?

 

Relating to Section C6

In unit A6 we looked at some of the humour resources used by the media, especially punning. In C6 we considered the role of humour in certain types of print media, focussing on a rather sordid harassment case involving a member of the police force of the Republic of Ireland. A question posed was whether such humour strategies are appropriate in the context of serious stories.

We pointed out that the tone of the tabloids’ coverage was markedly different to the version in the broadsheet which we quoted in C6.  Here now are the headlines and opening texts, respectively, from the Irish versions of the Daily Mirror and the Daily Star:

Daily Mirror

KNICKER NICKING GARDA NAILED

Cop found guilty of stealing underwear in harassment case.

A married garda has been convicted of stealing two items of underwear …

Daily Star

KNICKER GARDA IS GUILTY

Undies stolen off washing line.

A garda was last night found guilty of harassing a young woman …

It is worth noting that although the Mirror’s version is less scatological and irreverent as far as its use of humorous language goes, it does supplement in a rather salacious way its front page story (and photo of the garda) with an adjacent image from an entirely unconnected story, featuring a young woman modelling underwear.