Chris Packham: The Power of Anger

Early Life and Passion for Wildlife

Born in Southampton in 1961, Chris Packham was the older brother of fashion designer Jenny Packham. He graduated from Southampton University with a degree in zoology and began training as a wildlife cameraman. His on-screen breakthrough came when he fronted the Bafta-winning The Really Wild Show in 1986. Since then, he has hosted numerous wildlife programmes including Springwatch, Autumnwatch, Winterwatch, and Blue Planet Live.

Only diagnosed with Asperger’s syndrome at the age of 35, he has since presented the 2023 documentary Inside Our Autistic Minds and is a passionate activist against climate change and animal cruelty. He shares a 31-year-old stepdaughter, Megan McCubbin, with his ex-wife Jo and is in a relationship with Charlotte Corney. He lives alone in the New Forest with his poodles, Sid and Nancy.

Here he reflects on the moments that shaped his views on work, love, family, money, and health.

A Fascination with Nature

As soon as I could crawl around the garden, I was picking up slugs and snails. Initially, it was a desire to own wildlife in jars and tanks, which fizzled out when I got a pair of binoculars aged 12–13 and realised I could learn more watching them. I had live foxes, badgers, and buzzards in my bedroom. People would give them to me, and I’d try to rehabilitate them. I was fascinated with wildlife – specifically wild, not domestic, animals.

A Love for Dogs

I first fell for dogs on the day of the Iranian embassy siege in May 1980, aged 19. I was watching it on TV when my mother came home and put this small black, fluffy poodle in the middle of the carpet. Prior to that, I wasn’t interested in them because of their close association with humans, and I wasn’t really interested in humans. Within weeks, I was smitten.

Sharing Knowledge

I’ve always had a compulsion to tell people what I know about wildlife. My family were always subjected to my info dumps. When I got the job presenting the children’s wildlife programme The Really Wild Show, my sister said, “Thank goodness for that. Now you can bore the nation after boring us for the last 20 years.” My mum used to say I didn’t have a stop button. I don’t want one. Charlotte sometimes instigates a slow button if it’s going to be instructive for getting me to think about things more clearly. That’s certainly one of the things I’ve learned about self-management, which I probably didn’t learn until maybe too late in life.

Activism and Challenges

I’ve had shit through my letter box and death threats in opposition to my activism. I’ll still carry on, though. It’s fuel. If you’re not getting flak, you’re not over the target. When The Daily Telegraph is printing two articles a week slagging me off, I know I’m doing something right. It’s not exactly water off a duck’s back; but I’m never intimidated by it. And it never puts me off.

Embracing Anger

I like being angry. I learned long ago – it was one of our punk mantras – that anger was an energy. You’ve got to turn that energy into something positive. Screaming and shouting doesn’t get you very far; you’ve got to be more creative about it.

Close Relationships

I only have two people close to me in my life. That’s my stepdaughter Megan and my partner Charlotte, and our views are 99 per cent aligned. Sometimes they’re probably a bit more intimidated by the physical violence and the relentless harassment, but when you’ve been an autistic kid in the 1960s, at a comprehensive with 2,000 kids, it’s nothing. My sister said last year, “You’ve been bullied all your life, so the fact that the Daily Mail is bullying you now, or some politician is, really doesn’t make any difference, does it?” It’s just the way it is.

The Role of Dogs

My dogs Itchy and Scratchy saved me from suicide twice. My thought was: no one’s ever going to look after them as well as I do, I can’t leave them. Whilst I had support from my family and maybe two other people, they couldn’t reach me at that point. The only thing that was there was that unconditional, pure love from the dogs. It meant it wasn’t about me.

Deep Connections with Animals

I know when all the dogs I’ve owned were born, and when all of my dogs died. I know both of my parents’ birth dates, but I don’t know the dates they died. Does that explain the difference in depth of feeling? I love my dad, and my mum was extraordinarily generous, but my affinity to other species of animals just seems to work on a deeper level.

Financial Commitment to Causes

One of the reasons I get up and go to work in the morning is so I can spend money fighting for causes I believe in – and I’ve made a big financial loss in that process. Some people support part of the work I do, but a lot of it comes out of my own pocket, including many conservation campaigns. Money is a tool to get me environmental justice. That’s what I work for. Some people want cars and holidays, but what I want is the ability to stand up and make a noise and get some positive change.

Art as a Coping Mechanism

I use art as a blocker. It blocks out all the other crap in my life completely. It’s real therapy for me. Hyper-focusing on that means I can’t focus on anything else. When I’m taking work, I’m so into what I’m doing, I can’t have a conversation about anything else. I can’t look at anything else. If I go to photograph elephants, I go to photograph elephants – I don’t care if a pride of lions is eating Nigel Farage alongside the vehicle, I’m not going to stop and photograph it.