George Monbiot is an archetypal example of a tremendously well-educated twat! I keep thinking that he was never born, he simply walked off the pages of the old 'Peter Simple' columns in The Daily Telegraph. You need only provide him with a few facts, a few falsehoods and a hard-luck story and he will fall for any old nonsense that comes along. Lest you doubt me, read his Wiki entry. And yet . . . and yet . . .
I am thinking seriously of starting a 'Save George Monbiot for the Nation' campaign. This blithe, ineffable ninny steams gently through life fueled (er, eco-friendly fuel, natch!) by every daft idea that ever was thought of and in the process, from time to time, placing himself in extreme danger. Gradually, very gradually, it dawns on him that some of his daft ideas are, well, daft and then - and this is why I like him - he changes his mind! I don't wish to over-emphasise this characteristic because it does take an enormous amount of contradictory evidence, of the sort which is blindingly obvious to a detached observer, before little Georgie sees the light, but even so, he is capable of changing his opinion and is not afraid to publish it.
On Boxing Day he wrote an article for The Guardian which, in its sweet innocence and its absolute and complete honesty, sums the man up. I will not attempt any sort of summary but instead urge you to read it in full. I will simply confine myself to giving you the title: "The day my inner anarchist lost out to the bourgeois me". Says it all, really! Good man, that Monbiot, even if he is as daft as a sack of frogs!