Jeremy Clarkson opens the new series of Clarkson's Farm with a characteristic quip: 'I'm back and not dead. It was f***ing close though.' He refers to a blocked artery requiring emergency heart surgery in 2024, but the statement could equally apply to his career. Repeatedly, Clarkson has escaped professional oblivion, yet questions linger: Is the British public being misled by this avuncular farming persona? Where has the provocateur gone? Is the fifth season merely 'farmwashing'?
From BBC Controversies to Amazon Salvation
Clarkson's lucrative move to Amazon effectively masked the scandals that made him toxic at the BBC. He frequently breached impartiality rules, calling Gordon Brown a 'one-eyed Scottish idiot', labelling the Welsh language 'a silly maypole', and dismissing road safety concerns. In 2015, he was suspended from Top Gear after physically assaulting producer Oisin Tymon, leaving him with a bleeding lip. The incident would have ended most careers, but it allowed Amazon to acquire him for The Grand Tour and later Clarkson's Farm. Financially, it was the best outcome for him.
The Reinvention Through Farming
The Grand Tour, a bigger-budget Top Gear successor, concluded after six seasons. Yet Clarkson's Farm enabled a genuine rebranding. This personal project, akin to Ryan Reynolds and Rob McElhenney's Wrexham purchase, rehabilitated a reputation tainted by accusations of bigotry. In 2011, the Indian High Commission objected to 'tasteless jibes' on a Top Gear special. In 2014, Clarkson apologised for muttering a racial slur in an unaired episode. That same year, he caused a diplomatic incident in Argentina over a provocative license plate. Social mores seemed to render him a dinosaur, undesirable to major broadcasters.
Yet Amazon stood by him. In 2022, Clarkson wrote in The Sun about Meghan Markle: 'I hate her... I lie there grinding my teeth, dreaming of the day when she is made to parade naked through the streets while crowds chant 'Shame!' and throw excrement.' Widely condemned, he apologised again. Rumours suggested his Amazon deal would collapse, but instead, a fourth series was announced. Clarkson's Farm is Prime Video's most-watched UK show and a hit in China, making him too big to fail.
From Entertainment to Lobbying
The fifth season sees Clarkson leading aggrieved farmers to central London, protesting Chancellor Rachel Reeves' 'astonishing attack on British farming'. He emerges as a plausible populist rebel with a cause. However, there is irony in these protests being broadcast by Amazon, a company that has devastated small businesses and high streets. That dissonance is central to the Clarkson project: his brand is crotchety authenticity, his medium reality TV. But Clarkson's Farm, like its predecessors, is a fabrication. Confected camaraderie with farm manager Kaleb, domestic spats with partner Lisa, and impulse purchases all serve the narrative. This is not real farming; it is Clarkson's farm, where drama ensures profit.
As entertainment, it remains effective. Clarkson engages articulately with real farmers, telling them: 'You lot got a knee in the nuts!' He may genuinely care, but he also turns their struggle into a package for his brand and Amazon's profit. Just as lower-league football clubs eye Wrexham warily, the farming community might ask whether Clarkson's Farm is simply making hay while the sun shines, or salting the earth for real agrarian businesses.
