The great Jimmy Carter died today, and over on The Guardian’s website, another incredible politician, Gordon Brown, penned a heartfelt tribute. I have a lot of love for Gordon Brown, so I sincerely hope he didn’t have a hand in writing the title of the piece: “My friend Jimmy Carter will be remembered long after other presidents are forgotten. Here’s why.”
Excuse me? “Here’s why”? WTF, The Guardian! Imagine writing a headline that explains exactly what the piece is about and then adding, as if we’re all dribbling into our cups of tea, “Here’s why.” Well, yes, of course you’re going to tell us why! That’s literally the job of the article! What next? Titles like “My friend Jimmy Carter will be remembered long after other presidents are forgotten. Here’s not why”? Honestly, this kind of thing has to stop.
The title, in all its glory, is a tautology—an unnecessary repetition of a single concept. It’s like saying “a round circle” or “hot fire.” We all understand that if Gordon Brown is writing a tribute, he’s going to tell us why he thinks Carter’s legacy will endure. We don’t need it telegraphed with an extra spoonful of condescension.
And then there’s the pretentious framing. Oh, how I love a bit of pretentious framing. For those unfamiliar, it’s when an idea is presented as if it’s dripping with significance and authority, but upon closer inspection, it’s more flash than substance. In this case, the sweeping declaration about Carter being remembered “long after other presidents are forgotten” is not only unverifiable (time machine, anyone?) but also faintly ridiculous. Are we really pitting Carter’s memory against a lineup of other presidents in some kind of posthumous memory Olympics? Who even decides when a president is “forgotten”? Do they hold a ceremony for that?
And let’s not even pretend Gordon Brown wrote this headline. He’s far too dignified to stoop to such sassy tropes. Everyone knows Gordon wouldn’t need to jazz things up with unnecessary phrasing. He doesn’t need to wink at the audience with a “Here’s why,” as if he’s about to present a Buzzfeed listicle. But this is The Guardian, and apparently, they love a sassy trope. They seem to think it adds a bit of sparkle to their journalism. Spoiler alert: it doesn’t. It’s a meaningless phrase that must irritate any reader with an ounce of self-respect.
I don’t read other newspapers, but if I find out that The Guardian is the only one resorting to these “bleedin’ obvious” explanations, I’ll be utterly disappointed. We’re not morons, Guardian! Gordon, if you’re reading this—and let’s be honest, you probably aren’t—have a quiet word with them. Tell them their readers don’t need their hands held through a headline. We’re clever enough to figure out that a tribute to Jimmy Carter will explain why Gordon Brown admires him without the “Here’s why” drumroll. We promise.Then you have the journalists churning out the kind of drivel that seems to be the bread and butter of The Guardian. You know the stuff: “I Don’t Like Sparrows. Here’s Why.” As if the very idea of disliking sparrows wasn’t riveting enough on its own, they feel the need to tack on a “Here’s Why,” like that’s going to add some kind of intellectual heft to the whole thing. Is this The Guardian’s way of compensating for the bereft content of some of their articles? A sneaky attempt to lend an air of gravitas to a piece that could basically be summed up as “Sparrows are annoying, the end”? Because, let’s face it, no matter how much “Here’s Why” you slap on it, it’s still a rubbish piece. You can dress it up in the language of grand revelations, but at its core, it’s still someone whining about birds. And in case you didn’t catch that point—guess what? It’s a shit piece. Here’s why!
The Rights of Fans. 