In Defense of Jeremy Clarkson

A female transgender fan writes back.

I am a woman from the United States. I’m white, from the midwest, a book lover, a writer, a poet, and perhaps most of all, a big consumer of digital media, particularly TV shows and movies. One of the particular shows I enjoy — or enjoyed, before it was cancelled in its older format— was Top Gear, as presented by Jeremy Clarkson, Richard Hammond, and James May. I will likely continue to enjoy the new show produced by Amazon, despite some of Jeremy Clarkson’s comments in his widely panned Sunday Times column to the contrary, even about my own people.

Hello! It’s me, an admitted transgender Jeremy Clarkson fangirl.

You see, I also happen to be transgender. And no, I don’t “know” Jeremy Clarkson in any personal sense of the word, nor do I imagine we will ever meet. But given my love of design, of engineering, and the way these things intersect and come together to make things that go fast around a track, I will always have a soft spot in my heart for cars, and, more specifically, the presenters who helped me fall in love with them. Since first recognizing that all the “stars in a reasonably priced car” all started out as normal people like me, it’s been my life’s dream to drive a car around the Top Gear test track. Sadly, this dream might never come true now. I’d like to think, though, that if I were ever actually able to meet Jeremy and get to know him on a more personal level, we might find some common ground between us.

Speaking only in the sense that I know the Jeremy Clarkson presented to me over many, many seasons of Top Gear, and as I’ve seen him depicted in other media, I “know” that Jeremy Clarkson is an unapologetic ass. He is brash, often abrasive, and often someone with whom I don’t imagine I’d get along on a personal level.

It’s the little things that get me, really. Words like ‘ladyboy’ and the idea that my transgender brothers and sisters might just be punchlines in a stag night joke aren’t easy ideas to swallow from someone I fell in love with as a video presenter. Yes, I know he’s an entertainer. Part of his job involves remaining conversationally relevant to the media and in some small portion of their spotlight. I know enough to recognize that Clarkson has a history of this kind of behavior.

My reaction was swift. Straight to Facebook, posted on my own timeline, shared with others, with comments, engaging in a conversation with my friends and family about Clarkson’s allegedly incendiary statements. I thought about going to Twitter, but one can’t really engage in any sort of meaningful dialogue in 140 characters or less, at least to the degree I knew would bring me any lasting satisfaction or empathy from others who might also share my umbrage. For what it’s worth, I wasn’t wrong, either. I found the echo chamber of support I needed, from people who *also* hadn’t finished reading the column published behind the Sunday Times paywall.

Jeremy Clarkson’s more provocative comments were panned wide and far with condemnation from many, many people. It wasn’t until a few days later that I found the final conclusion to his column, something more recently brought to a wider light as Clarkson defended himself in a second round of press hits:

But then I thought of something. Let’s just say for a moment that one in 1,000 are transgender. Or one in 100,000. Or even that it’s actually just one. Let’s say that there is one person out there who is a woman living in a man’s body, or the other way around. I started to imagine what life might be like for the poor soul. It would be dreadful. Absolutely awful. And all they seem to want to make their life better is a third gender option box on official documents. That’s not really the end of the world for everyone else, is it?

Suddenly, there it was, the formulaic presentation I’d witnessed at least a thousand times before. Making brash comments or producing incredible stunts with a twist at the end is the recipe behind many of his successful reviews, and indeed, the show presented by the three of them.

This is the one car I’d always have — if money were no object.. But notice how he changes his mind at the end? Classic Clarkson, classic review formula.

I’ve also seen enough of his reviews to realize that his intended tone didn’t translate well to the column. Not all emotions are equally communicated in the transition from speech to text, as anyone who’s tried to use that function on their smartphone might attest. But the formula is quite simple: make a couple of comments, support them with some opinions — perhaps even those of a particularly inflammatory nature that *might* be shared by or even incite his audience to respond from the comfort of their sofas, come to a conclusion, and then, finally, ask a question that causes people to think and empathize. To reconsider their own position on the subject, even.

Any cursory search of YouTube for “Clarkson” and “car review” will produce a long line of video reviews starring Jeremy Clarkson that reinforce my point. I’ll admit, after reading the headlines about his comments originally — and discovering that the column in question happened to be behind a paywall, I wasn’t really motivated to pursue it any further. I didn’t want to expose myself to that kind of personal invalidation of my own existence, particularly from an entertainer whose opinion — at least about cars — I’ve come to love, admire, and respect. Power, speed, tight suspension, and creature comforts are all things even I personally love about them.

It’s a particularly strange irony that I wanted to demonize Jeremy for his hurtful comments, particularly when it felt that he was doing the same, unknowingly, to a dire fan like me (and I’m sure many others). Sure, he’s brash, abrasive, and an unadulterated ass at times, but he’s also not *just* those things. Just as I often remark that I’m more than my genitalia or gender identity as a transgender woman, it’s important to recognize that what is needed here is greater understanding, no small amount of compassion, and a willingness to listen, from both sides.

Many in the transgender community will likely condemn me for this support. I’m not afraid to be who I am, but I’m also not afraid to stand up for those I admire, either. Even in the face of total humiliation and rejection by one’s peers, it is the work of those capable of demonstrating true compassion and empathy to help construct a bridge of understanding. Perhaps, given another reading, Jeremy Clarkson could be seen in that light, too.