Inside the 'needlessly cruel' cancellation of Scottish author Kate Clanchy and why I'm glad I'm not the BBC

It’s perhaps understandable why those who’ve degraded themselves by abusing fellow writers online, contributing to their career destruction, may comfort themselves with this notion. Travel writer Monisha Rajesh, a central figure in the hounding of poet, educator and author Kate Clanchy, certainly does.

When asked by BBC reporter Katie Razzall if Clanchy had been cancelled, she replied “of course not”, adding: “Everyone’s still talking about her.” Ms Rajesh further claimed to have no regrets about her role in “challenging” Ms Clanchy four years ago.

This may be true, though Ms Rajesh posted a sobbing video to her Instagram last week, upset the Clanchy affair was being “stirred up” again.

This was ahead of new podcast series Anatomy of a Cancellation, presented by Ms Razzall and broadcast on BBC Sounds last week. Its six episodes explore the competing narratives surrounding events that led Ms Clanchy to be branded racist, a year after her bestselling memoir, Some Kids I Taught and What They Taught Me, was published by Picador in 2020.

It received rave reviews, also scooping the Orwell Prize. A year later, her publishers effectively apologised for its existence after several authors claimed of fence at some of its wording. What led to its fall from grace?

Was it credible a book accused of being “racist” made it past editors, reviewers and literary judges with no red flags, due to systemic racism in publishing?

Or, was something else going on amidst the sharing of screenshots of its pages, context-free from the memoir’s wider story, branded “harmful”, her publisher lambasted, Ms Clanchy’s defenders similarly attacked?

Cutting a successful, enviable woman down to size, in an industry characterised by egos the size of small countries, but scant financial riches, was an under-explored possibility in the podcast.

Might that be what pumped through the veins of the ‘anatomy’ under question? Also – whisper it – might some writers not be very nice, fond of booting other writers to the kerb?

After all, if rooting out racism in publishing is the aim, a woman instrumental in getting under-represented kids published, with a 30-year career as an educator of immigrant and refugee children, who now teaches poetry online to girls in Afghanistan, seems an utterly ludicrous target.

Unfortunately, when an accusation so serious is made, an author must address it. Attempting to has meant four years of heartache for Ms Clanchy, while under repeated attack publicly and intense pressure privately.

The Anatomy podcast is thus a welcome expose. I’m glad I’ve no obligation to adhere to the BBC’s requirement for balance, however, as I found the contributions from Ms Rajesh, among others, extremely ignorant.

Of course Ms Clanchy has experienced cancellation. She had to part ways with her publisher, lost uncountable amounts of work, and had her professionalism questioned with such intensity it made her question if life was worth living.

From the start, I’ve been unapologetically Team Clanchy. Her memoir, which I loved, is precisely about protagonist Kate, grappling with her prejudices as a white, middle-class educator, whose privileged clumsiness is but one theme running throughout.

It’s knowing, witty, replete with irony and self-deprecation, as the diverse lives of her charges – and her own – are changed through the taught/ taught me framing.

As journalist Sonia Sodha says on the podcast, some may find her physical descriptions of some children "crass”, but it’d be wrong to think this a universally held opinion by all readers of colour.

Kate is crass at times; her acknowledgment she’s “not a saint” a central point. Memoirs which present their authors as perfect are dishonest and extremely boring.

Both in 2021, and on the podcast, former students robustly defend her.

One, Mukahang, says he feels Ms Clanchy’s critics have used misguided concern for them as “a weapon to hurt her”. Others have expressed dismay their similar perspectives were ignored.

To recap: the central charge is Ms Clanchy harmed pupils, wrote a racist book exposing her as a terrible teacher, and it therefore shouldn’t have been published. All accusations fall apart on any fair assessment.

Rather than give credence to such claims, her publishers should’ve asked – if concern for Ms Clanchy’s students was the motivation, firstly, why not listen to them? Secondly, what good comes from reducing a teacher they adored to a husk?

In 2021, Ms Clanchy was grieving a double-bereavement, having recently lost both parents, experiencing suicidal ideation, and facing the loss of everything that got her out of bed in the morning. Mocked relentlessly regardless, she was floored when writer Sunny Singh urged her online followers to write lurid descriptions describing Ms Clanchy’s grief.

No BBC balance from me, folks. I had a front row seat to this. It was ugly. It was needlessly cruel.

The only accusation Ms Clanchy faced that could hold weight is her book upset Monisha Rajesh and some other writers. That might be true. I’m afraid my own take is: so what? Not one bit of their response was proportionate.

Though Rajesh is of the ‘post crying videos to Instagram’ writing community, who I hold largely responsible for turning the UK publishing world into a cross between a school playground and an episode of Squid Game, I’m afraid I don’t find performances of grief sympathetic from someone who – while she may fear the delayed scrutiny offered by the podcast – freely admits she’s no regrets.

‘Anatomy’ of a cancellation it might be, but Ms Rajesh was one of those at the beating heart.