In Morgan’s formidable estimation, Markle is an unscrupulous liar, a Machiavellian manipulator and a covert narcissist – defects of character which would make the top-line of any psychological evaluation of Piers.
If you examine his body-language as he is taken to task for his opinions, his demeanor is consistent with that of a person wounded. The defeated posture. The excruciation at being told a hard truth. Morgan fled the GMB studio in a desperate bid for emotional refuge.
It had nothing to do with his ‘principles’. Nothing to do with ‘free speech’. I can think of no man on this meanspirited backwater of an island who feels more empowered to speak quite as freely as Piers Morgan clearly does.
His problem, culture warriors, is that he can only bear the sound of his own voice – he doesn’t do incoming calls. Like many in the Poundland pantheon of shock-jocks ascending media ranks in bin-fire Britain, he mistakes his emotional immaturity with the issue of censorship.
He believes the discomfort he experiences when challenged is evidence of a nefarious trend that threatens democracy. This is a melodramatic form of denial. One reified by thin-skinned pundits who cut their professional teeth when commentators didn’t have to pass the conch.
In truth, it is the juvenile emotional attitude they have acquired in response to the messy, occasionally medieval, democratisation of public discourse which lies at the root of their tantrums. Their refusal to consider the radical possibility that they may have been wrong.
That there may occasionally be more socially responsible, charitable ways of phrasing provocative viewpoints. Rather than confronting the truth of their primitive emotional natures, they remain in their trenches, issuing populist rallying cries, driving up the engagement metrics.
Morgan is Britain’s mankiest reflective surface. A smoking mirror on the wall in which a meanspirited, fearful and insecure nation vainly admires its decomposition. A culture where humility is weakness, kindness is punishable knowing what you are talking about is boring.
Morgan’s routine requires little skill, wit or intellect. He possesses no craft. Aligns with no cause. He has a politician’s nose for public opinion, an Instagram influencer’s yearning for validation and the emotional sophistication of an unnurtured school child.
Only in Britain can those qualities earn you £1500-an-hour.
(I hope I have articulated myself clearly enough to be well understood)
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