This Blog is for Entertainment Purposes Only

Advertisers on YouTube must be a desperate and sorry lot, knowing that most people will click the ‘Skip Ad’ button after five seconds of their work. But recently, just as my mouse was by instinct hovering over the button during one such interruption to the traditional Sunday-afternoon pastime of ‘bumming around on YouTube’, the words ‘Indian astrologer’ made me pause. Why was an Indian astrologer advertising on YouTube? What had he to offer? I watched on, and was told that Prakash (for that was the name of this internet-savvy reader of the stars) is ‘the first and only Indian astrologer in Europe to hold an OFCOM Payplus licence for astrology’.

Now this got my attention. Ad men will tell you that some products sell themselves, but for me the idea that the earth’s motion relative to flaming balls of gas light-years distant can warn me to be careful in handling money next week is a tough sell. However, the idea that Ofcom, the British broadcasting regulator, was licensing astrologers was like catnip and I needed to know more. Perhaps this is because as a Leo I ‘love the new and extraordinary'’. Or perhaps it’s because it raises two important questions: 1) Why is Ofcom apparently in the business of licensing astrologers? and 2) What does it license them to do?

Prakash’s website only makes the possibilities more intriguing. It claims that, not only does he hold a licence from Ofcom, but that ‘this, in itself, warrants the creditability of his work and professional standing in the world of astrology.’ Does Ofcom keep some astrological rankings? Is there a board of official star-gazers, judging the quality of horoscopes cast by applicants? Is there an Ofcom official whose job it is to compare the horoscopes of his past week, and who awards a licence to the most accurate soothsayer? More prosaically, does the writer of the website mean ‘creditability’ in the sense of actual credibility, or just respectability? And which meaning does Ofcom use when handing out ‘Payplus licences for astrology’?

A dive into Ofcom licensing criteria and guidelines later, and it becomes clear that Prakash’s claims and insinuations are dubious at best, starting with the fact there appears to be no such thing as an ‘Ofcom Payplus licence’. Rather, Prakash presumably holds a Television Licensable Content Service (TCLS) licence, which allows him to produce content for various satellite and internet television stations, as well as his own PrakashTV. And here is where things get interesting, because, as Ofcom tells us ‘Adult chat, adult sex chat and psychic programming are categorised as teleshopping.’

Leaving aside the perplexing question of the difference between ‘adult sex chat’ and mere ‘adult chat’ (the latter presumably involving topics like council tax bands and how to cope with the inevitability of death), this means that Ofcom categorises astrology and the psychic arts solely as ‘direct offers to the public with a view to the supply of goods or services in return for payment’. Those wishing to broadcast their insights into the mystic connection between the mechanics of the stars and the vagaries of human fortune are helpfully referred to BCAP code rule 15.5.2.

The UK Code of Broadcast Advertising (devised by the Broadcast Committee of Advertising Practice, hence BCAP) may seem arcane even by the standards of occultists, but is the logical reference if astrological broadcasts are seen as a preliminary to swapping a service for money, and ipso facto advertising. Section 15 deals with ‘Faith, Religion and Equivalent Systems of Belief’, for all that it might shock the Vatican, say, or al-Azhar that astrology is an equivalent to their centuries of scholarly exploration of matters of faith, ethics, scripture and divinity.

Rule 15.5.2 states that television advertising for services ‘that rely on belief in astrology, horoscopes, tarot and derivative practices’ must state ‘that the product or service is for entertainment purposes only’. That is, if you are selling a service that ‘relies’ on people believing in the premise that the position of stars at your birth predict your future, you are required to tell them that any conclusions based on that (presumably sincerely-held) premise aren’t to be taken seriously.

Indeed, the BCAP code goes further and mandates that advertising allowed under this section may not ‘offer life-changing advice directed at individuals – including advice related to health (including pregnancy) or financial situation’ or  ‘predict negative experiences or specific events’. Are you? Then I’m afraid you can’t advertise the fact on TV; you’re caught on both points. Oh, and you’re not allowed to ‘make claims for effect and accuracy’. But as long as you’re happy presenting your hidden cosmic knowledge as an ‘alternative system of belief’ which is vague, just for fun, and has no chance of working, then broadcast away.

Interestingly, if you’re a psychic looking to preserve some shred of integrity (I will allow that these theoretically exist), then radio is a happier medium for, um, happy mediums. While TV adverts ‘must not promote psychic practices or practices relating to the occult’ (except as entertainment), radio advertisers are free to do so, as long as they as long as they don’t make any claims for its effectiveness. BCAP’s logic here is unclear. Perhaps they take the view that seeing is believing, and so any promotion of the occult on radio will just be treated by the public as background noise, one of those bits of radio that everyone unconsciously blocks out while listening to, like Quote, Unquote.

In case ‘psychic and occult-related practices’ sound too vague, BCAP helpfully provide a list: ‘ouija, satanism, casting of spells, palmistry, attempts to contact the dead, divination, clairvoyance, clairaudience, the invocation of spirits or demons and exorcism’ are all activities which cannot be promoted on television. If this didn’t already sound like some seventeen-century Puritan warily defining exactly what the Satanic Arts were so as to better protect his flock, Ofcom make the following clarification:

Ofcom considers that references to ‘spirit guides’ used by presenters are not in principle problematic under the BCAP Code. However the use of ‘spirit guides’ to promote indirectly or imply a prohibited psychic practice or practice related to the occult ... is likely to be unacceptable, for example using a ‘spirit guide’ as an apparent means of contacting a dead loved one of a viewer.     

For clarity, the use of a ‘spirit guide’ – which includes some supposed supernatural advisor of obscure, mythological or ancient provenance – is not, in Ofcom’s opinion, akin to communicating with the dead.

Now here Ofcom appears to be interpreting its remit to regulate communication rather widely, extending it beyond the electromagnetic spectrum to ectoplasmic spectres. It also means that if your spirit guide has the misfortune to be dead, then your career is sunk. There’s no discussion of how obscure or ancient provenance is separate from being dead, which is probably just as well, nor any of why, since the whole thing is ‘for entertainment purposes only’, there should be a prohibition on contacting the dead in the first place. Should the dead not be entertained, too? They could probably do with a laugh, poor dears.

Ofcom remains curiously undecided about the use of props, since ‘the BCAP Code does not explicitly state the range of props acceptable for use’, which given what we’ve seen of it so far is surprising (there’s a whole subsection dedicated to phone-based tarot readings). Undaunted, Ofcom gives its own suggested list of ‘chicken bones, tea leaves, crystal balls, rocks and pendulums’, which it reassures occultists ‘are not in principle problematic’. Unless, that is, they promote or ‘imply a prohibited psychic practice’. This seems somewhat paradoxical, since the whole point of a prop is to imply other things and, for a psychic, to make them look more credible. The sole purpose of a crystal ball is to imply that a fortune-teller is looking into some mysterious source of knowledge; otherwise they’d be left squinting mystically at nothing in particular, and would seem (shockingly) to be making the whole thing up. A physical object is needed to make the customer think the soothsayer is consulting some outside, objective force; whatever the business with the chicken bones is, it’s meant to be like an accountant checking the tax code, or a doctor with a blood test. For an occultist, if a prop doesn’t ‘imply a prohibited psychic practice’, it’s not much of a prop.

A similar paradox exists in BCAP’s prohibition of advertising which may ‘encourage excessive use’. Now, if the underlying premise is that these occult services are for entertainment purposes only, then how can any use be excessive? Who are BCAP to judge when my desire for divination-based entertainment is sated? Where, moreover, can the harm be in excessive ‘entertainment’, and so why should it be discouraged? Perhaps BCAP is seeking to stop people wasting time and money on frivolous entertainment so they can do something productive, but in that case the advertising of video-games and bingo would also be highly suspect, as would most of television itself and, indeed, the entire corpus of Western literature.

Really, of course, this is where BCAP’s insistence on ‘entertainment purposes only’ comes unstuck and is exposed as a fig leaf to balance consumer protection with free speech. They can’t stop people from believing in astrology, but nor can they allow people to make false claims in advertising. ‘Entertainment only’ is a good compromise in theory, but as the sections on excessive use and life-changing advice show, there are people who will take occult ‘services’ as more than entertainment, and who are open to exploitation.

This seems an appropriate point to come back to Prakash, who claims to be ‘the most trusted, learned and well-known astrologer in Europe’. From our exploration of Ofcom and BCAP, does his broadcasting license 'for astrology' warrant ‘the creditability of his work and professional standing in the world of astrology’?

Since the licence has nothing to do with the astrological ‘profession’ or any test of the ‘creditability’ of his work, then the short answer can only be no. Indeed, if he sincerely abides by the terms of the licence, he promotes astrology as an inexact, non-specific, unreliable entertainment. If professional astrologers believe in the truth of their art, they presumably think rather less of him.

All that an Ofcom licence ‘in itself’ guarantees is that he broadcasts according to the BCAP code, but sadly on that interesting question I am unqualified to comment, not least because Prakash broadcasts in Punjabi. His videos certainly open with the familiar disclaimer (in English) that the content is ‘for entertainment purposes only’. But in their guidance, Ofcom say:

‘it is not sufficient to rely only on on-screen text...The advertising as a whole must reflect this principle. The Code therefore does not permit the advertising of psychic services on any other basis: psychic readings cannot stray beyond the carefully circumscribed area of entertainment and should never be presented as reliable, substantiated or offering anything other than a form of entertainment.’

Now, Prakash’s website is by no means bound by the restrictions on his licensed broadcasting, but limited by language, it is all I can judge him on, and it certainly doesn’t conform to this.  Apart from anything else, the services offered are the very ‘life-changing advice’ Ofcom is so wary of: A ‘Master Life Chart’ offers ‘predictions, recommendations, astro solutions and precautions’ on health, education, relationships, careers, finance, wealth, family life, property, personality, and spirituality over the next 35 years. All this based on ‘Numerological analysis of your date of birth and name and analysis between your birth chart and date of birth and name’. If such things affect a person’s life so deeply for decades, expectant parents should game the system by inducing birth on propitious dates and choosing favourable names.

 ‘Marriage compatibility’ and ‘Business compatibility’ are also on offer. There may be businessmen or spouses who, ‘for entertainment purposes only’, want to test whether they are fated to be together, but that hardly seems like a large enough market to be worthwhile broadcasting to. How does one broach the subject? ‘Darling, I love you, but just for a laugh, let’s give money to a professional astrologer who’ll calculate whether we’re compatible. No, dear, he doesn’t claim it works. He’s not allowed to.’

Some indication of how far Parakash sees his work as entertainment can be gleaned from the section of his website in which he lays out what he expects from his clients:

·         Someone who whole-hearted believes in the science

·         Someone who respects the knowledge

·         Someone who listens and absorbs the guidance offered

·         Someone who is willing to make a difference and take on advice

·         Someone who wants to work with me to solve situations

That is, he wants someone who will see that he provides more than mere fun. Indeed, he lists 'an accurate reading' under the client's expectations. The terms and conditions, too, make clear that they expect customers to have a ‘particular belief ... that there may exist a relationship between astronomical phenomena and actual events allowing [Prakash] to explain negative and positive aspects of your persona and lifestyle linked to the positions of the sun, moon, and other planetary objects at the time of your birth.’ Rarely have astrologers made their own art sound so implausible.

It isn’t surprising that Prakash wants his customers to take him seriously, despite the restrictions of an Ofcom licence. For both practitioners and punters, there is little point in astrology if one does not see some truth in it. Ofcom and BCAP’s ‘entertainment only’ is a convenient way of avoiding judging this truth, but means that astrologers must find other ways of showing their credibility. Deprived under the terms of his licence from using props to imply ‘prohibited practices’, Prakash uses the licence itself, relying on his audience’s ignorance of what it actually is. What else would we expect of a man who claims that our fate is not in ourselves but in our stars?