The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results — so goes the quote falsely attributed to Albert Einstein. To this end, one can only imagine what the board of the National Library of Scotland were expecting when they became the latest in a long line of cowardly institutions to try and censor women’s rights campaigners. To mark the library’s centenary, the NLS is holding an exhibition of two hundred historically significant books, voted for by the public. One such nominated book, The Women Who Wouldn’t Wheesht documents the grassroots fight against gender self-ID in law by ordinary Scottish women and the ideological capture of the Scottish Government under Nicola Sturgeon, which ultimately led to her downfall.
There are passionately-written essays by thirty-four individual women in the anthology, ranging from household names like J.K. Rowling to the anonymous mother, campaigning on behalf of her disabled daughter, who coined the rallying slogan “Women Won’t Wheesht”. There are politicians from a spectrum of parties, artists, high-profile activists and writers known and lesser known (including yours truly). To be guaranteed a place in the exhibition, a book had to receive two votes. The Women Who Wouldn’t Wheesht received four — amongst the highest. Yet, in a miserably predictable move, the NLS has capitulated to the petulant demands of its LGBT+ staff network and removed it on the basis of it potentially causing “harm”.
After conducting a Freedom Of Information investigation, book editors Lucy Hunter Blackburn and Susan Dalgety have wasted no time ensuring this deeply unprincipled act by the NLS has garnered deserved media furore. Both have written an eloquently blistering letter to Amina Shah, the Chief Executive, lambasting the abject failure to ensure the library represents the Scottish public in all its political stripes, and the effective smearing of all the book’s contributors, nominators, and readers. Whether the NLS will begrudgingly backtrack or double-down will be a coin toss, depending on what flavour of cowardice seems most PR-friendly.
As one of the smeared contributors, this is my first taste of personal cancellation and it’s rather surreal given I used to work for the NLS circa 2021. I left in part due to the creeping stranglehold of ideological biases. From compulsory EDI seminars misrepresenting the Equality Act to ridiculous trigger warnings for those of us working in the archives (lest our delicate eyes came across an article from the past that didn’t pass the PC smell test); to me, it was clear even then that the NLS was drifting away from the democratic, non-partisan ethics that initially drew me to the information sector.
Scotland’s arts and culture institutions are completely beholden to the SNP-led establishment
But there’s something even more surreal at play here, when looking at the big picture. Scotland’s arts and culture institutions are completely beholden to the SNP-led establishment. Even more bizarre than this is how normalised — accepted even — this has become to the Scottish public. The literary highlight of the Edinburgh International Book Festival programme, for instance, is Nicola Sturgeon’s sold-out interview with Kirsty Wark about her “warm and revealing” new memoir Frankly. Fair enough, she was a major UK political figure and it will likely be a bestseller. But Sturgeon has been the unspoken guest of honour at the EIBF since her years as the First Minister, appearing in conversation with literary powerhouses such as Ali Smith and Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. Indeed, her autobiography is gushingly blurbed by none other than Shuggie Bain Manbooker prize winner Douglas Stuart. Also notable is Sturgeon’s very (very) close friendship with revered Scottish crime writer Val McDermid, even staying in McDermid’s property after her split from husband Peter Murrell.
It’s not just the literary world that’s seen creatives fawn over Ms Sturgeon. Throughout the Covid period, the late comedienne Janey Godley’s sassy and sweary dubs of her daily briefings turned Sturgeon into an affable meme to help the nation laugh through hard times. Perhaps most jarring was in 2016, when Sturgeon, her sister Gillian and her mother Joan were guests on Elaine C. Smith’s comedy New Year show Burdz Eye View Of Hogmanay. By comparison, imagine in England if Rishi Sunak routinely appeared at literary festivals in conversation with, say, David Nicholls and Jonathan Coe? Imagine if throughout lockdown, Michael McIntyre made affectionate, underhandedly approving dubs of Boris Johnson’s daily briefings. Imagine if Keir Starmer and two random members of his family co-hosted Jools Holland’s Hootenanny?
Not only do our cultural tastemakers avoid offending the SNP establishment, they tend to act as its promotional mouthpiece
Creators and curators of art and entertainment do not have to be contrarian or rebellious for the sake of it. As a rule though, the establishment — especially governments — exists to be criticised, lampooned or, at the very least, scrutinised. In Scotland though, not only do our cultural tastemakers avoid offending the SNP establishment, they tend to act as its promotional mouthpiecee. This is not just sinister, it’s embarrassing. Frankly, if you are someone who loves provocative, truth-hungry art, and cares fiercely about freedom of expression and genuine diversity, Scotland feels a mortifying place to live at the moment.
The National Library of Scotland receives around 90 per cent of its (tax-payer funded) money from the Scottish Government. Unless a new government is voted in and applies serious reforms, such as withdrawing or prohibiting arts funding on the basis of proven anti-democratic censorship, there’s no incentive for this deeply concerning allegiance to change. To quote my fellow young Women Who Wouldn’t Wheesht contributor Nicole Jones: “The Scottish cultural/political overlap is a barren landscape, a sterile echo chamber. Nothing can grow here.”
There’s a particular irony in trying to censor a book called The Women Who Wouldn’t Wheesht. The clue is in the title that we won’t take any institution trying to gag us lying down. As the NLS row evolves though, amidst all the hand-wringing and tiresome, empty wittering about “promoting inclusion” and “polarised debate” that will ensue, I don’t think it’s the book’s “harmful” gender stance that’s the biggest problem for the NLS. It’s that this book has pulled the mask off the face of the establishment — not just Sturgeon, but the once-proud cultural institutions of Scotland that have sold their souls and, consequently, become national disgraces.
