In a move that has sent shockwaves through the nation's gin-fuelled moral compass, Britain has declared itself the global custodian of free speech, specifically to protect the right of its citizens to watch dramas about dragons and medieval politics without the slightest interruption from pesky authoritarians. The Foreign Office, in a statement that could have been written by a particularly florid editorial from the Spectator, has condemned China's 'censorship' of 'The Untamed' and other cultural exports that have apparently offended the delicate sensibilities of the politburo.
One can almost imagine Boris Johnson, quill in hand, composing a furious letter to Xi Jinping: 'Dear Premier, you cannot simply delete episodes of shows that feature effeminate men and supernatural beings. This is a gross violation of the Geneva Convention, or at least the unwritten rules of coolness.'
But let us pause for a moment of clarity. The UK, a nation that has spent centuries perfecting the art of soft power through the BBC and Shakespeare, suddenly finds itself championed as the defender of dramas that the Chinese state deems inappropriate. It's a noble cause, to be sure, but one wonders if the same energy will be applied to British tabloids printing headlines that could start wars.
The British media, that bastion of unfettered truth, has predictably fallen over itself to decry this cultural oppression. The Daily Mail, a publication that spends its days waging war against baked beans and bins, has declared: 'Enough is enough. We will not stand by while Netflix and other streaming platforms capitulate to Beijing's whims.' This from a country that once banned the word 'bollocks' on a Sex Pistols album.
Meanwhile, the intellectual elite have descended upon Twitter, a platform owned by a man who banned the former president of the United States, to declare the moral high ground. The internet, as ever, is a beautiful place for hypocrisy.
But perhaps the most delicious irony is that the dramas being censored are often about ancient China's own struggles with power and love, and cutting out the bits that suggest homosexuality and feudal conflict is like the BBC editing 'Line of Duty' to remove any mention of police corruption. It's just daft.
Yet, at the same time, one must question Britain's sudden interest in protecting the narrative purity of shows that most people only watch for the costumes. Is this really the hill we want to die on? While children starve in Yemen and climate change threatens our very existence, the UK government is wringing its hands over a TV show about a guy with a flute.
Truly, we are living in a mad, mad world. And in that world, the only sane response is a stiff gin and tonic, and a quiet hope that the dragons might return to set fire to Westminster.
