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The National Trust has become an easy target for conservative hysteria | The National Trust has become an easy target for conservative hysteria |
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Tue 8 Aug 2017 18.28 BST | |
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You would think it might be difficult to get into a flap about a flapjack let alone consider the recipe tweak of one to constitute national news. But this isn’t just any flapjack, it’s a National Trust flapjack. And if there’s anything to be learned about British heritage and the news cycle in August, it’s that you most certainly can generate a storm in a teacup over today’s big reveal: that the trust has reduced the sugar content of its £1.95 flapjacks by 20%, introduced pumpkin and poppy seeds, chopped apricots and liquidised peaches to the mix, and – hold steady, now – a few vox-popped visitors are unhappy. | You would think it might be difficult to get into a flap about a flapjack let alone consider the recipe tweak of one to constitute national news. But this isn’t just any flapjack, it’s a National Trust flapjack. And if there’s anything to be learned about British heritage and the news cycle in August, it’s that you most certainly can generate a storm in a teacup over today’s big reveal: that the trust has reduced the sugar content of its £1.95 flapjacks by 20%, introduced pumpkin and poppy seeds, chopped apricots and liquidised peaches to the mix, and – hold steady, now – a few vox-popped visitors are unhappy. |
Put aside, for a moment, the nerve of Britain’s largest membership body attempting to meet standard public health guidelines and contemporary food trends, and it’s a news story that sums up what an odd time the trust finds itself up against: modern life is rubbish, comes the message from its critics; stop messing with this progressive nonsense; the National Trust’s job isn’t just about the physical preservation of old country houses and lovely English coastlines, it’s about the preservation of good old-fashioned tradition. This year alone, departing from tradition has prompted conservative hysteria on everything from Easter-egg hunts and cafe snacks to promoting sexual equality. | Put aside, for a moment, the nerve of Britain’s largest membership body attempting to meet standard public health guidelines and contemporary food trends, and it’s a news story that sums up what an odd time the trust finds itself up against: modern life is rubbish, comes the message from its critics; stop messing with this progressive nonsense; the National Trust’s job isn’t just about the physical preservation of old country houses and lovely English coastlines, it’s about the preservation of good old-fashioned tradition. This year alone, departing from tradition has prompted conservative hysteria on everything from Easter-egg hunts and cafe snacks to promoting sexual equality. |
Take the fuss over Felbrigg Hall. Last month, the trust, which has 62,000 volunteers, asked 350 of them working at the 17th-century Norfolk house to wear rainbow lanyards. It was a gesture to mark 50 years since the decriminalisation of homosexuality, at a house where the last lord of the manor, Robert Wyndham Ketoon-Cremer, was gay. Thirty volunteers revolted, an outraged Daily Mail reported a mutiny and a U-turn on the policy was swiftly announced. | Take the fuss over Felbrigg Hall. Last month, the trust, which has 62,000 volunteers, asked 350 of them working at the 17th-century Norfolk house to wear rainbow lanyards. It was a gesture to mark 50 years since the decriminalisation of homosexuality, at a house where the last lord of the manor, Robert Wyndham Ketoon-Cremer, was gay. Thirty volunteers revolted, an outraged Daily Mail reported a mutiny and a U-turn on the policy was swiftly announced. |
“We value the contribution our volunteers make, so have listened to them,” the National Trust tells me in a statement. “We are aware that some volunteers had conflicting, personal opinions about wearing the rainbow lanyards ... We are therefore making it clear to volunteers that the wearing of the badges is optional and a personal decision.” | “We value the contribution our volunteers make, so have listened to them,” the National Trust tells me in a statement. “We are aware that some volunteers had conflicting, personal opinions about wearing the rainbow lanyards ... We are therefore making it clear to volunteers that the wearing of the badges is optional and a personal decision.” |
Still, 240 people cancelled their memberships after the story broke, and a victory was declared for right-thinking people refusing to be nannied into a benign, warm-spirited expression of tolerance. What has gone unreported, however, is that 7,000 new memberships were also signed up in the same seven-day period; Britons, it seems, weren’t that bothered about the rainbow outrage. Most of us were grateful for a reminder to sign up for days out nosying around other people’s grander homes – plus all that free parking by National Trust beaches. | Still, 240 people cancelled their memberships after the story broke, and a victory was declared for right-thinking people refusing to be nannied into a benign, warm-spirited expression of tolerance. What has gone unreported, however, is that 7,000 new memberships were also signed up in the same seven-day period; Britons, it seems, weren’t that bothered about the rainbow outrage. Most of us were grateful for a reminder to sign up for days out nosying around other people’s grander homes – plus all that free parking by National Trust beaches. |
More than £200m is generated annually by almost 5 million National Trust members. Its total assets stand at £1.13bn, which include 778 miles of coastline, 250,000 hectares of countryside, more than 300 historic buildings and 59 villages. It is, I guess, unsurprising to witness it become a crucible of national debate. And yet, at the same time, the National Trust, much like the BBC, has simply become an easy target for shallow point-scoring in the culture wars. | More than £200m is generated annually by almost 5 million National Trust members. Its total assets stand at £1.13bn, which include 778 miles of coastline, 250,000 hectares of countryside, more than 300 historic buildings and 59 villages. It is, I guess, unsurprising to witness it become a crucible of national debate. And yet, at the same time, the National Trust, much like the BBC, has simply become an easy target for shallow point-scoring in the culture wars. |
It remains extraordinary and, well, mad that the prime minister felt compelled to comment on the trust’s egg-hunt policy this year, following claims (empty, it turned out) that it was de-emphasising Christianity. The trust was, said the Archbishop of York, “airbrushing faith from Easter” by hooking up with Cadbury to sponsor that holiest of religious rituals: rambling around National Trust properties looking for eggs and gorging on chocolate bunnies. Despite a recorded 13,000 references to Easter on the trust’s website at the time, the PM was moved to declare that she found it “absolutely ridiculous” that it was denying the existence of Easter. (That she was, at the time, offering this ridiculous distraction on the way to Saudi Arabia to “herald a further intensification” in relations with the UK – translation: ensure the future smooth selling of British weapons – is by the by.) | It remains extraordinary and, well, mad that the prime minister felt compelled to comment on the trust’s egg-hunt policy this year, following claims (empty, it turned out) that it was de-emphasising Christianity. The trust was, said the Archbishop of York, “airbrushing faith from Easter” by hooking up with Cadbury to sponsor that holiest of religious rituals: rambling around National Trust properties looking for eggs and gorging on chocolate bunnies. Despite a recorded 13,000 references to Easter on the trust’s website at the time, the PM was moved to declare that she found it “absolutely ridiculous” that it was denying the existence of Easter. (That she was, at the time, offering this ridiculous distraction on the way to Saudi Arabia to “herald a further intensification” in relations with the UK – translation: ensure the future smooth selling of British weapons – is by the by.) |
For better or worse – and let’s be honest, it’s just the worst – the National Trust has become a symbol for the bastions of British heritage to take swings at, following any signs of liberalism the charity might awkwardly display. It has been roundly criticised for its politics under soon-to-be-departing Dame Helen Ghosh’s directorship – anti-fracking, climate-change campaigning and the like – even though its break from tradition is hugely overstated. | For better or worse – and let’s be honest, it’s just the worst – the National Trust has become a symbol for the bastions of British heritage to take swings at, following any signs of liberalism the charity might awkwardly display. It has been roundly criticised for its politics under soon-to-be-departing Dame Helen Ghosh’s directorship – anti-fracking, climate-change campaigning and the like – even though its break from tradition is hugely overstated. |
In the majority of its 122 years, the trust has taken a very particular, nostalgic view of architecture, history and taste: most of its holdings are pre-19th century estates, relics and riches of empire built on the blood and sweat of the oppressed. Yes, its fastidious dedication to maintaining these beautiful buildings and landscapes is a magnificent achievement and a point of national pride – there is little else to rival it in the world. But it has been a long, intellectually snobby slog for it to acknowledge and appreciate contemporary culture. It wasn’t until 1995, for example, that the childhood home of Paul McCartney was acquired as a monument of national interest that might be worth preserving with the same enthusiasm reserved for Osterley Park. | In the majority of its 122 years, the trust has taken a very particular, nostalgic view of architecture, history and taste: most of its holdings are pre-19th century estates, relics and riches of empire built on the blood and sweat of the oppressed. Yes, its fastidious dedication to maintaining these beautiful buildings and landscapes is a magnificent achievement and a point of national pride – there is little else to rival it in the world. But it has been a long, intellectually snobby slog for it to acknowledge and appreciate contemporary culture. It wasn’t until 1995, for example, that the childhood home of Paul McCartney was acquired as a monument of national interest that might be worth preserving with the same enthusiasm reserved for Osterley Park. |
The trust’s approach to national heritage is still pretty genteel – there’s the odd concession to brutalist, art deco and modernist architecture, but you would be hard pushed to claim it is at the vanguard of social change. The baby-steps the organisation has made to pull in more visitors and ensure its future are just that – its motto is “for ever, for everyone”, but the charity could still do much more to modernise. But, as the conservative commentariat is determined to ensure, the National Trust can’t have its flapjack and eat it. | The trust’s approach to national heritage is still pretty genteel – there’s the odd concession to brutalist, art deco and modernist architecture, but you would be hard pushed to claim it is at the vanguard of social change. The baby-steps the organisation has made to pull in more visitors and ensure its future are just that – its motto is “for ever, for everyone”, but the charity could still do much more to modernise. But, as the conservative commentariat is determined to ensure, the National Trust can’t have its flapjack and eat it. |
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