green-ink brigade

alternative green ink brigade

1. UKCollectively, those people who write letters to newspaper editors, politicians, etc., expressing eccentric views; the letters are often stereotyped as being lengthy, handwritten in green ink, and characterized by the frequent use of capital letters and underlining.First known use 20th c.

   In some broadcasting circles it has become fashionable to be cynical about the listener/viewer. It is tempting to go along with that, especially if you have been on the receiving end of those extraordinary letters from ‘the green ink brigade’, criticizing your programmes and often you personally.

   2004, Jenni Mills, “Who are You Talking To?”, in The Broadcast Voice, Oxford, Oxfordshire: Focal Press, →ISBN, page 38

   5 more examples

   For the moment, electoral reform is dead. This is comforting on balance, for the subject, along with fluoridation and a few others, is one which experienced journalists tend to avoid. It tends to bring out the green ink brigade. No electoral reform: no lengthy letters to the Editor from Miss Enid Lakeman. Good. We can all breathe again.

   1980 January 13, Alan Watkins, “Gerrymandering for the aid of the party”, in Donald Trelford, editor, The Observer, number 9829, London: Guardian News & Media, →ISSN, →OCLC, page 9, column 3

   There is something perversely satisfying about the fact that, […] our elected legislature was taken over lock, stock and barrel by the green ink brigade. I should explain at once that the expression is the more-or-less-affectionate description given by journalists and politicians to the people who write them eccentric letters, often in block capitals and frequently underlined in multicoloured inks. For some reason I have never heard satisfactorily explained, the most obsessive of these correspondents seem to prefer green.

   1985 March 8, Ian Aitken, “Tories who are fluoriding high before the fall”, in Peter Preston, editor, The Guardian, number 58719, London: Guardian News & Media, →ISSN, →OCLC, page 10, column 1

   Even before I began I had numerous warnings from colleagues to “beware of the green-ink brigade”, conjuring the spectre of obsessive correspondents who would write at great length and persistently, typically covering their copious sheets in longhand scrawled in green ink. I have seen one or two – and I mean just one or two – that more or less fit the description, Guardian readers all.

   1998 November 7, Ian Mayes, “The Readers’ Editor on … his first year in the job: First aid for the injured”, in Alan Rusbridger, editor, The Guardian (Saturday Review), number 47,326, London: Guardian News & Media, →ISSN, →OCLC, page 2, column 5; republished in Victor Keegan, editor, The Guardian Year ’99, London: Fourth Estate, 1999, →ISBN, page 152

   At least the poor bastard who receives the letter will be able to bin it after reading the first couple of lines instead of having to sit through it to the bitter end like me. […] The green-ink brigade, they were known as there. Because invariably those with enough time on their hands to write and complain about stupid things did so in green ink.

   2011, Linda Green, chapter 20, in And Then It Happened, London: Headline Review, Headline Publishing Group, →ISBN, page 225

   Devo-sceptics outside the Assembly were furious when we changed the working title of the executive branch to Welsh Assembly Government. They thought we were assuming airs and graces. The letters poured in from the green ink brigade to the local evening newspapers – they had never accepted the referendum result anyway.

   2017, Rhodri Morgan, “Earning Respect: 2000–2003”, in Rhodri: A Political Life in Wales and Westminster, Cardiff: University of Wales Press, →ISBN, page 197

   Synonyms: lunatic fringe