Jeremy Clarkson has hit back at critics who branded him a “useless farmer,” giving an honest yet humorous reply that perfectly sums up his trademark blend of wit and stubborn pride.
Having purchased his 1,000-acre Curdle Hill Farm in the Cotswolds back in 2008, the former Top Gear presenter took over the day-to-day running of the land himself in 2019. The chaotic journey that followed became the foundation of the hit Prime Video documentary Clarkson’s Farm, now four seasons in and loved by millions for its mix of rural challenges and unfiltered honesty.
But not everyone has been convinced by Clarkson’s agricultural skills. After one social media user took to X (formerly Twitter) to label him “useless as a farmer,” Clarkson, 65, fired back with a typically self-deprecating but optimistic quip:
“I’m actually getting better.”
His response earned a wave of support from fans who praised him for shining a spotlight on the struggles faced by British farmers — an issue many say he’s done more for than most politicians.
Political Banter and Doncaster Dreams
The exchange came just days after Clarkson playfully stirred up speculation about a possible move into politics. Posting to X on October 12, he asked:
“People of Doncaster North, are you happy with your MP? Would you like it if someone from your neck of the woods kicked him out?”
Fans were quick to jump in, with one writing:
“I’d love Jeremy Clarkson to stand against [Ed] Miliband, take his seat, then do a Netflix series exposing the corruption, mediocrity, and incompetence of Westminster.”
Another joked that Clarkson would be “f***ing useless as an MP” — to which the broadcaster has yet to respond, though many suspect he found the jab amusing rather than insulting.
Clarkson vs. Kaleb: The Great Goat Debate
Meanwhile, Clarkson’s Farm fans have been treated to another round of classic farmyard friction between Jeremy and his trusty (and often exasperated) sidekick, Kaleb Cooper.
Despite Kaleb’s firm insistence that goats were “a waste of time,” Clarkson went ahead and bought 29 of them — for just £290. His goal? To clear roughly six acres of bramble-covered land, which he cheekily valued at around £60,000 in reclaimed use.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Clarkson wrote in his new book Diddly Squat: The Farmer’s Dog. “I bought them as castrated boy kids about 15 months ago, and Kaleb thought I’d taken leave of my senses because you can’t get cheese from a boy.”
Instead of selling them for meat as Kaleb advised, Clarkson decided to let them loose as “a fleet of horned lawnmowers.”
The goats, he said, proved their worth immediately — clearing nearly an acre a day. “Their work rate was phenomenal,” he joked. “It’s like they’re Polish.”
But there were drawbacks. The mischievous herd frequently headbutted their owner and “went for my b******s,” as Clarkson put it, reminding him that life on Diddly Squat Farm is rarely smooth.
From Chaos to Cult Hero
Since transforming the farm in 2020, Clarkson has faced everything from weather disasters to TB outbreaks and council disputes. Yet through it all, Clarkson’s Farm has turned him into an unlikely champion for UK agriculture.
Whether he’s being called “useless,” “brilliant,” or both at once, Jeremy Clarkson’s response remains the same — an unshakable grin, a pint of Hawkstone, and a determination to prove he’s getting just a little bit better every day.
