In an emergency break the TV screen

Small Tumours on the Body Politic

By Theodore Dalrymple

Returning to England recently via Heathrow, I was at once struck by the prevalence of compulsory television in our country. It is as if no one is expected to be able to amuse himself with his own thoughts for longer than it takes to walk from the plane to the immigration desks. 

High above those desks were huge screens, relaying the Paraolympics. Somehow, such screens draw the human eye to them as magnet draw iron filings; it is very difficult to ignore them entirely, so difficult indeed that one might be distracted from reading fully the notices informing clients or customers of the ‘UK Border Agency’ about how seriously it takes assaults upon its staff.  Judging by the absence of such notices in other countries, one can only conclude that, for some reason, foreigners find British immigration officials particularly objectionable.

Once through immigration and on to the Heathrow Express, you are subjected to the same combination of entertainment and menace. Heathrow Express TV breaks into its programmes to tell you that, in the interests of security and safety you might be subjected to search on the train, and you are asked in advance to co-operate in your own humiliation. Then the entertainment resumes. 

In theory it is possible to escape it, for you are told that there is a quiet zone in the train. But you are told this is only after the doors have closed; and when I asked the ticket inspector how one reached the quiet zone, he said, ‘It’s at the other end of the train. I wouldn’t advise going, because we’re very busy.’

And so you are subjected to the bright shining drivel of television whether you want it or not. In this instance it was loud enough to make reading impossible, or to avoid being told what the whether might be like in Northern Ireland tomorrow. 

Television or other moving pictures in public places, especially accompanied by sound, ought to be recognised as a form of pollution. I would suggest a law to give permission to anyone who wishes silence in a public space to smash any screen without imputation if vandalism or criminal damage. Indeed, I would go further: I would oblige any person or organisation that erected such a screen to provide the public with the means – perhaps a little pick, placed nearby as fire extinguishers are placed – to smash them, to be called forced-entertainment extinguishers.