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By R. Houck.

Note : since this article has now been posted in The Occidental Observer after having only appeared in my e-mail inbox I have now removed it. Please view it here —

The row over the gender pay gap within the BBC is the final proof — though none was needed — that the organisation is both utterly unreal and irredeemably corrupt. Equally unreal has been the tiresome monotone consensus of the commentariat, all wailing and shrieking as one about how hard done by are the women of the BBC.

Note the silence from the women of the infinitely superior Sky Television, a straightforward commercial organisation that has no illusions. Its function is to make profitable programmes, which can happen only if the presenters are good, no matter the contents of their underwear.

The BBC — like RTE — is of course different. It has this fake obligation to public service, which it discharges fitfully and in a wholly biased left-liberal fashion. It is this increasingly marginalised duty — PC to its follicles, of course — which causes the wholly erroneous belief that the staff are somehow or other “equal”, and therefore deserve “equal pay”. Naturally, the female presenters demanding “equality” with the top-paid men are not demanding the same for the Jamaican waitress in the BBC canteen.

Only one woman is among the top 10 best-paid BBC presenters. Now, why is this? Is it because men are more charismatic performers? Because they work harder? Because they are more driven? Possibly a bit of each. The human resources department — what used to be called “personnel” until people came to be considered as a metabolising, respiring form of mineral ore — will probably tell you that men usually work harder, get sick less frequently and seldom get pregnant.

But most of all, men tend to be more ambitious: they have that greyback testosterone-powered, hierarchy-climbing id that feminised and egalitarian-obsessed legislatures are increasingly trying to legislate against. Indeed, only weaponsgrade ambition could have got that deeply irritating jackanapes-on-steroids Jeremy Vine a berserk £700,000-£750,000 (€782,000-€838,000) a year. Plus, he must have one hell of an agent.

So have the BBC’s top women found a revolutionary new kind of negotiator that likes to start high and chisel downwards? Is this amazing unter-agent dedicated to the concept of seeking ever lower salaries for his/her clients, so earning a smaller commission for him/herself? And if such unter-agents actually exist, who is idiotic enough to employ them? The BBC’s female presenters, apparently. I note that two of the best-paid women presenters in the BBC — Claudia Winkleman and Vanessa Feltz, with whose, no doubt, sterling work I am tragically unacquainted — are Jewish. Good for them. Jews are not generally noted for their insistence on selling their talent for the lowest possible price, which is the most useful measure there is of inveterate, lost-with-all-hands stupidity. I wonder, who are their agents? If they’re the same ones that negotiated the pay for the women on the lower scales, then maybe the latter have found their true value in the marketplace.

Yet even using that word “marketplace” in the absurd world of the BBC is like putting “common sense” and “egalitarian feminism” in the one sentence without a negative, or collapsing with laughter.

Like RTE, the BBC depends on a compulsory poll tax, the television licence fee, and from that vast pot of revenue come the preposterously large salaries for Chris Evans, Graham Norton and Gary Lineker. Quite simply, public service television — with so many still-neglected national and cultural obligations towards society at large — should not be paying such vast sums to anyone. Of course, I’m showing my age, but then so too are the younger generation, for almost no one under 30 watches the BBC any more.

The corporation long ago metastasised into a different kettle of very rotten fish from its founding precept of “public service”, with the decay starting at the very top. About 100 BBC managers earn upwards of £150,000 annually — or more than a British cabinet minister. Included here are the PC traitors who run BBC news and current affairs, which have stifled and corrupted all useful debate on national identity, immigration and race, thereby doing irreversible damage to British society.

Meanwhile, other broadcasting managers, almost in cultural compensation, have reduced the once majestic BBC Radio 3 to a populist jingoistic travesty, all Elgar, Holst and Williams. The Brexit vote was, in part, a conscious rejection of the largely irrelevant agenda of that depraved and self-regarding metropolitan elite.

The BBC’s defining problem is that it is torn existentially between its ancestral duty to enrich the minds of its audience, and its self-imposed ambition to compete in the televisual marketplace with populist programming. Once the pay gap was revealed, the corporation’s director-general Tony Hall promptly dissolved into crocodilian lachrymosity. Babbling inanely about the age of “equality”, he promised to “sort out” the pay differential by 2020, while the indignant female broadcasters want “equality” now — but not of course for the canteen, camera and cleaning staff.

Meanwhile, the print media generally have been wrathfully chewing the righteousness carpet. Female columnists in particular have angrily — the only mood many of them know — demanded “equality”. Some, of course, are more equal than others. A fairly average female columnist in 800 indignant words of smouldering mediocrity will, without leaving her keyboard, earn more than a cleaning lady or a checkout girl will ever do in an entire week, plus Sunday overtime.

Equality is a unicorn. Don’t wait for it, or look for favours because of your chromosome count. Get what you can with whatever talents you have. And ask yourself. How many women are billionaires? Chess grandmasters? Mathematicians? There’s a connection. Mastery of money usually requires singular drive, ruthless logic and instant, arctic-cold arithmetic.

Of course, in their usual, pitifully imitative way, Irish tabloid newspapers have tried to create a similar controversy here. That’s impossible, because of the ubiquity of Miriam O’Callaghan and Claire Byrne across the airwaves, including the weather, the ploughing championship and the Angelus. But it’s Marian Finucane who lays bare the self-pitying falsehoods of the BBC women. In 2009, her contract awarded her €520,000 for just two radio programmes a week. Such a small number of programmes couldn’t possibly generate enough advertising to subsidise such absurd returns. So how was her agent able to negotiate such a deal? Metaphorically, and at a guess, by being a man.

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