Where’s My Warning for Modern TV? Loose Women, Gary Neville, and Those Endless Cremation Ads

The familiar TV disclaimer: “This programme reflects the standards, language, and attitudes of its time; some viewers may find this content offensive."

”It’s slapped on The Likely Lads or Rising Damp, as if to warn us that a joke from 1974 might leave someone clutching their pearls. But while we’re being prepared for outdated banter, the real offenders are parading on our screens, unannounced, day after day. Where’s the warning for those? Because let’s face it—there’s a lot more offensive content flying under the radar these days.

Loose Women: The Shouting Match That Never Ends

Take Loose Women, for example. A panel of hyper-caffeinated presenters, half-baked opinions flying around like frisbees at a park, and topics that range from utterly trivial to emotionally manipulative. They can spend half an hour debating the deep philosophical issue of whether it’s acceptable to ghost your hairdresser, or argue over what’s wrong with millennials (spoiler: everything, according to Loose Women). But do we get a disclaimer for this kind of mental onslaught? No. Where’s the warning?

“This programme reflects the attitudes of those who like their arguments loud, logic questionable, and personal stories dragged into the public arena. Some viewers may find the content baffling, exhausting, or downright migraine-inducing.”

Gary Lineker & Gary Neville: The Football Punditry Sideshow

Then there’s Gary Lineker, who’s slowly morphed from Match of the Day anchor to Match of the Moral High Ground. You sit down for some post-match analysis, and next thing you know, you’re getting Gary’s take on climate change, global inequality, and probably the ethical implications of wearing synthetic football boots. And not to be outdone, Gary Neville—Mr. "Football was my career, but now I’m an economics expert"—is on hand to deliver his daily diatribe on capitalism, while somehow forgetting he’s made millions from it.

It’s become the Gary and Gary Virtue Signalling Hour. If they’re not talking about football, they’re talking about everything else, from political crises to world hunger, as if the audience tuned in for Newsnight. Where’s the disclaimer for that?

“This programme features ex-footballers venturing well beyond their remit into socio-political commentary. Viewer discretion is advised, especially if you were hoping for some football analysis.”

BBC Lefty Screened Audiences: Echo Chamber in Action

Let’s not forget the BBC’s lefty-screened audiences—those mysteriously assembled groups that seem to consist entirely of Guardian readers, climate activists, and anti-capitalists. Watch any BBC debate show and you’ll quickly notice it’s less a balanced discussion and more a woke echo chamber, where everyone seems to agree that the rich are evil, Brexit was a national disaster, and capitalism is the root of all our woes. Dissenting views? They’re about as welcome as a wasp at a picnic.

Why don’t we ever get a warning for those audiences? “This programme reflects the views of a carefully curated group of left-leaning individuals. Some viewers may find the lack of diversity in opinion irritating, unrepresentative, or absurdly predictable.”

The Parade of False Compassion on News Items

Then we move to the news. Oh, the false compassion! Every newsreader now comes with a side order of performative empathy, pulling concerned faces and "Oh, isn't it just so awful?" commentary that’s laid on so thick you could drown in it. Whenever there’s a heart-wrenching story, the whole newsroom suddenly transforms into the set of an amateur dramatic society: wide-eyed compassion, deep sighs, and endless clucking over the human tragedy they’ll forget as soon as the cameras are off. Where’s the authenticity? And more importantly, where’s the warning?

“This programme reflects the increasingly performative compassion of our news presenters. Some viewers may find the exaggerated displays of empathy insincere, patronising, or mildly nauseating.”

The Inescapable Cremation Ads and Bookie Casinos

Of course, no modern TV experience is complete without the Pure Cremation ads—yes, those cheery little reminders that, while we’re all going to die, at least we can get it done cheaply and efficiently! There you are, watching the news or a bit of daytime TV, and suddenly you’re hit with an ad telling you that when your time comes, you can be shuffled off this mortal coil in a no-fuss, cut-price cremation. It’s all done with the kind of cheerfulness usually reserved for adverts about tea biscuits, which makes it all the more unsettling.

Can’t we at least get a heads-up for this? “This programme may contain an advertisement that turns death into a budget-friendly business transaction. Viewer discretion is advised, especially if you’d rather not plan your funeral in between lunch and Countdown.”

And while we’re at it, how about a warning for the never-ending casino ads? Every break in the football seems to feature yet another slick ad for an online casino, complete with flashing lights, seductive jingles, and smiling actors who have never experienced the soul-crushing reality of losing a month's wages on the slots. The gambling industry might be facing tighter regulations, but the barrage of casino adverts makes it feel like you’re being nudged towards financial ruin by a grinning presenter in a sparkly jacket.

Where’s the warning for that? “This programme may contain gambling adverts designed to make you believe losing money is just one more spin away from happiness. Some viewers may find this content irresponsibly enticing and extremely irritating.”

Fawning Over Royals and Celebrities: Bow Down and Worship!

And then there’s the endless royal and celebrity fawning. Every time a royal waves at a crowd or a celebrity wears something remotely fashionable, the media practically combusts with excitement. Whether it’s Prince William cutting the ribbon at a garden centre or Kate Middleton wearing a coat, the breathless commentary is relentless: “Look how regal!” “Oh, she’s so stylish!” Meanwhile, the rest of us are left wondering if these people really deserve the deference they’re getting for simply existing in front of a camera.

Don’t even get me started on celebrity interviews, where actors and pop stars are treated like philosophers, asked deep questions about their "truth" while the interviewer nods along in awe. You’d think they’d just returned from a successful peace mission, not a red carpet.

Where’s the warning for these sycophantic spectacles? “This programme contains fawning coverage of individuals who are famous for being famous. Some viewers may find the content nauseatingly sycophantic, especially if they expect their public figures to actually do something.”

So, Where Are the Real Warnings for Modern TV?

We’re living in an age where disclaimers are slapped on anything made before 1990, as though it’s all too spicy for modern sensibilities. But what about the mind-numbing nonsense we’re subjected to every day?

Where’s the disclaimer for Gary Lineker’s virtue signalling? Or the warning for Gary Neville’s economic lectures? Where’s the heads-up that Loose Women might make you lose your will to live, or that the BBC audience you’re about to hear from is more curated than a Tate Modern exhibit?

If we’re going to slap warnings on The Likely Lads, we should at least get some for today’s drivel:

• Loose Women: “This programme contains loud, overblown opinions on trivial subjects. Some viewers may find the content grating, uninformative, and completely unnecessary.”

• Gary Lineker & Gary Neville: “This programme contains ex-footballers preaching on topics they aren’t qualified to discuss. Viewer discretion is advised, especially if you’re here for football.”

• BBC Lefty Screened Audiences: “This programme features a highly curated left-leaning audience. Expect predictable opinions and a severe lack of debate.”

• False Compassion on News: “This programme contains performative compassion that may irritate those looking for authentic journalism.”

• Pure Cremation & Casino Ads: “This programme contains relentless ads about death and casinos. Viewer discretion is advised—unless you enjoy planning your funeral between betting sessions.”

• Royal & Celebrity Fawning: “This programme contains fawning coverage of people famous for very little. Some viewers may find this content nauseating and overly deferential.”

If we’re dishing out disclaimers for the past, let’s at least make them honest for the present. Because frankly, today’s content needs them more than ever.