So it’s goodbye from the Wigtown Book Festival to its sponsor Baillie Gifford, the Edinburgh-based investment company that has gained pariah status in the past year. In doing so, Wigtown joins a line of fast-toppling dominos in this tale of woe. Casualties already include Hay-on-Wye, the Edinburgh International Book Festival (EIBF) and the Borders Book Festival, all of which have recently announced they are parting ways with Baillie Gifford.

At the same time as Wigtown, the asset manager also cut its links to the Cheltenham and Stratford book festivals. Those at Henley and Wimbledon swiftly followed, and Baillie Gifford has now said that it will end all sponsorship of book festivals by the close of this year.

What a victory for climate activists and Pro-Palestinian campaigners, foremost among them Fossil Free Books (FFB), whose aim is “A literary industry free from fossil fuels, genocide and colonial violence”. In a matter of months, like children tormenting flies they have managed to tear the wings off the British book festival industry.


READ MORE

Wigtown Book Festival to end Baillie Gifford partnership

Respect for free speech needed after book festival loses sponsor – Swinney


Was it only last August that all this started? In a messy confrontation at the EIBF, several authors walked out of their own events and 50 wrote an open letter urging all writers to boycott the 2024 festival unless Baillie Gifford divested itself of carbon clients or the festival pulled the plug on them. Those ominous rumblings of discontent have now resulted in the wholesale loss across the sector of funding from a company that has been tarred and feathered out of all proportion to its activities.

Yes, Baillie Gifford invests in oil and gas companies, which account for 2% of its portfolio. Yet how many FFB protestors live a fossil fuel-free existence? And yes, Baillie Gifford invests in companies with links to Israel, among them Amazon, Meta, Airbnb and Booking.com. How many FFB activists have nothing to do with any of them?

There’s no need to rehearse widespread incomprehension that this particular company has become the bullseye of the protesters’ darts board, given its commitment to transitioning away from fossil fuels and its negotiations with businesses operating in Israel. It also supports philanthropic ventures, such as Street Soccer Scotland and various international charities.

Countless firms are far more deserving of condemnation, but it’s a waste of breath even stating that, since the damage has been done.

Nobody would deny the importance and urgency of the climate emergency and the conflict in Gaza that have galvanised campaigners. Threatening the existence of book festivals, however, is not the way to win people round.

Wigtown Book Festival has ended its sponsorship deal with Baillie GiffordWigtown Book Festival has ended its sponsorship deal with Baillie Gifford (Image: free)

 

What might, is a reasoned and civilised discussion on a book festival stage, between people with opposing views, or with expert knowledge, who can illuminate a route forward. In a trenchant speech at the launch of the EIBF’s programme this week, chairman Allan Little denied that the festival had “caved in to bullying” by severing from Baillie Gifford. Bad enough that Edinburgh staff and guest authors have been personally and ludicrously accused of being “complicit in genocide”. He then pointed to Hay-on-Wye, where last month “a flood” of authors cancelled their events at the last-minute after “intense pressure” from activists, leaving the programme in danger of collapse.

Despite this, various book festival stalwarts are astonished by what they see as EIBF’s - and all the others’ - timidity in kowtowing to what is essentially blackmail. Yet given the massive disruption these people are capable of causing, and the risk their behaviour poses to the safety and well-being of staff, visitors and writers, I don’t see what alternative they had. What really is shocking is that they, and other festivals, have been put in this position. It is hard to imagine any other commercial outfit being held to ransom in this way.

When Covid hit, it looked like curtains for such communal, collegiate events. But, as festivals have bounced back, the pandemic now seems comparatively benign. Not so the current crisis. The financial shortfalls facing festivals robbed of Baillie Gifford sponsorship are worrying. Nor is it likely that other big firms, who could match their contribution, will feel tempted to step into their shoes. They can all too easily picture the reputational damage they might suffer should they fall foul of protestors.

One despairing devotee of the EIBF, who has attended it every year since its inception, told me, “It takes 40 years to build a festival like Edinburgh and a week to destroy it.” If one of the biggest literary festivals in the world is vulnerable, what about those a fraction of its size? As was seen with the collapse of Aye Write earlier this year, some operate on such narrow margins they cannot withstand any financial blow. Inevitably, the funding gap will leave some teetering on the brink.

I am baffled why protestors - many of whom are writers or work in publishing - think that undermining book festivals will help promote a better, fairer, cleaner, more peaceful world. Book festivals represent a liberal society at its most open-minded and thoughtful. With tighter budgets, directors will be forced to trim their programmes and reduce the number and variety of writers invited to attend. Readers will meet fewer authors, and the marketplace on which novelists, poets, biographers and all the rest depend to promote and sell their books will shrink. And with it the influence of the written word.


READ MORE

As Labour and Tory unite in silence over EU, can SNP break through?

The dream is still alive for the independence camp


Yet book festivals are about more than literature. Wigtown is just one example of the virtuous cycle they can create. Alongside their role as a forum for civilised discussion, or as a showcase for every sort of writing, they offer a massive boost to local economies.

When Wigtown was chosen as Scotland’s National Book Town, the intention was to give the area an economic fillip. In the past quarter of a century the town has filled with bookshops and cafes, which are reason enough to visit. During the festival, however, this lovely but overlooked corner of Scotland is transformed into a cultured community, introducing visitors to the delights of Dumfries and Galloway. Meanwhile, many residents consider it the high point of the year.

Those responsible for killing sponsorship, whether at Wigtown or elsewhere, have recklessly endangered the livelihoods of festival staff and authors, and of all those businesses that support them. What we are witnessing is an industry shooting itself in the foot, and calling for its own demise.