How the League Against Cruel Sports Misled Its Members

Wildlife Betrayed investigates how the League Against Cruel Sports re-elected a trustee with a record of toxic social media posts.

Astrid Clifford’s Re-Election Shame

The League Against Cruel Sports tells its members that compassion lies at the heart of everything it does. “I hate to see any animals (or humans) suffering through deliberate cruelty,” declares trustee Astrid Clifford in her nomination statement. “We all benefit when we learn to treat other creatures compassionately.” Stirring words. Comforting words. But also — and this is the problem — entirely false words.

The League knew, when it circulated that statement, that Clifford’s public record told a very different story. It knew that her social media presence — before she deleted her account — was a cesspit of resentment and division. It knew that this supposed champion of compassion had used X (formerly Twitter) not to unite, but to inflame; not to comfort, but to condemn.

A Feed Full of Fury

Clifford’s timeline was a steady drip-feed of outrage and prejudice. She reposted attacks on immigrants, Muslims, feminists, progressives, LGBTQ+ people, and anyone else she deemed “other”. She amplified far-right accounts whose business model was outrage and misinformation. In one post, she objected to the NHS spending £9 million a year providing sign language for deaf patients — a lifeline for those who depend on it.

Compassion, apparently, comes with a price tag. There was no empathy, no humanity, just the cold arithmetic of cruelty dressed up as common sense. And this was no momentary lapse. Clifford continued to repost toxic content even while serving as Acting Chair of the League Against Cruel Sports — an organisation that claims to campaign for a kinder world.

The League’s Great Lie

The League cannot plead ignorance. They were told about Clifford’s record. They knew her views had no place in a charity built on empathy. Yet they presented her to members as a beacon of kindness. That’s not just hypocrisy; it’s deception — the wilful misleading of members who donate and campaign in good faith.

Earlier this year, the League trumpeted its “reset” — a promise of transparency and accountability after years of controversy. Clifford’s re-election proves what that really meant: a rebrand without reform. The same faces, the same culture, the same contempt for truth. A PR exercise dressed up as principle.

A House Divided — and Out of Touch

The League has long been seen as a white, middle-class southern organisation, out of step with the diverse country it claims to represent. Clifford’s posts reinforce that view. They expose how narrow and insular the League’s leadership has become — a world apart from the grassroots campaigners in northern towns, Scottish villages and Welsh valleys who actually live the values of compassion and inclusion.

While others work to make the movement broader and more welcoming, the League’s board still looks like the after-dinner crowd at a country club. When one of its trustees reposts hate-filled content attacking minorities and disabled people, it shows just how badly the organisation has lost touch.

When Wealth Talks, Compassion Walks

Why keep someone like Clifford in post? League insiders offer one answer: money. Clifford, they say, worked in the banking sector — wealthy, well-connected, and therefore “useful”. A potential donor, perhaps even a future legacy.

It’s a chilling calculus. Compassion, for sale to the highest bidder. A charity that began as a moral movement has become just another institution currying favour with the rich in the hope they’ll remember it in their wills.

The Hypocrisy of a “Campaign” Organisation

Clifford’s re-election, of course, was never in doubt. In truth, even a rotting lettuce could have been returned to office if the League’s management had put it forward. No trustee has ever failed to be re-elected — not because of merit, but thanks to the opaque proxy voting system at the AGM, which ensures outcomes are as predictable as they are undemocratic.

Members who might have raised awkward moral objections have long since been shown the door. Which leaves the question: if the result was already a foregone conclusion, why did the League feel compelled to mislead its own members? Perhaps, after years of spin and self-preservation, deceit has simply become institutional habit.

The League calls itself a campaigning organisation, demanding change from companies and landowners that permit bloodsports. Yet it cannot get its own toxic house in order. It lectures others on ethics and transparency while quietly shielding its own leadership from scrutiny. Like the estates it condemns, the League seems more concerned with protecting its brand than its principles.

The Damage Done

The League should be leading by example — showing that caring for animals and caring for people are inseparable. Instead, it has allowed its name to be weaponised by those who thrive on division. The tired accusation that animal lovers “care more for animals than people” has always been false — but Clifford’s re-election gives it oxygen. Every time the League defends hypocrisy, it undermines the movement’s credibility.

The Final Indictment

Astrid Clifford’s posts revealed no compassion, no kindness, no respect for others. They were toxic, divisive, and cruel. Yet the League’s leadership ignored this — misled its members, betrayed its values, and protected its image.

What does that say about the organisation’s soul? It says truth has been replaced by spin. Ethics outsourced to PR. The League Against Cruel Sports, once a moral force, has become a hollow brand.

Clifford’s re-election isn’t just a mistake — it’s an act of moral vandalism. Proof that when those in power abandon integrity, cruelty doesn’t just survive; it gets re-elected.