‘No PC, no wokeness’: Why Charlie Teo loves China

2 hours ago 2

Charlie Teo is not going quietly.

The once rock-star surgeon, effectively unable to operate in Australia after the Health Care Complaints Commission’s professional standards committee found him guilty of unsatisfactory professional conduct in 2023, is offering a textbook case of the crashouts and paranoia that follow when the celebrity bubble bursts.

Charlie Teo has been basking in China’s glorious anti-woke paradise.

Teo, whose fall from grace followed a series of stories in this masthead revealing concerns about his judgment, his narcissistic behaviour and his overcharging of financially stressed patients, says he is the victim of a sinister conspiracy propagated by envious doctors, biased journalists and an “evil” medical establishment.

He said as much during a recent podcast interview with fellow “rebel” doctor Paul Oosterhuis, a Sydney anaesthetist who was suspended for practising in 2021 for criticising COVID vaccines and promoting unproven treatments like Ivermectin.

Speaking on the Cafe Locked Out podcast, a media operation where people mad about having to take a vaccine four years ago yell into their webcams, Teo described Oosterhuis as a “brother” who shared his tendency to speak the truth, before launching into yet another tirade about his many enemies.

“I had no idea how Machiavellian the system was, and I had no idea how evil people were,” Teo said.

Things aren’t all bad for the good doctor. He has been taking his talents worldwide since the Australian restrictions, increasingly operating in China, a country Teo effusively praised for its lack of both cancel culture and political correctness.

“Just think of a country where there’s no PC, no wokeness, it’s just about getting the job done,” Teo said, noting he was speaking in hyperbole.

“Joe Average would find China incredibly enlightening, refreshing, pleasant and productive,” he said, noting that while China had problems, he just hadn’t seen them yet.

Better yet, in Xi Jinping’s glorious anti-woke paradise, boys can still be boys.

“If you find a nurse who’s done the right thing by your patients and you give her a big hug, you don’t have to fear that you’ll be accused of sexual harassment,” Teo said.

“Just think of the olden days when you and I were lads, where we used to have those, you know, Friday afternoon doctors’ parties in the residents’ quarters, and again there was no fear of retribution for being a normal, natural person,” Teo said.

Just wait until he hears about the Chinese Communist Party’s COVID restrictions.

Fronting up

It’s been a tough time for the good folk at Channel Ten, with massive financial losses, program axings and redundancies, and the uncertainty that inevitably comes from a change of ownership.

But at the network’s upfront presentation on the Gold Coast last Thursday, there was a noticeable spring in the step of many old stagers.

It wasn’t just that they were excited to be at Dreamworld, with after-hours access to some of the rides. It was that their new boss had flown in and let them know he cared. Well, that he isn’t about to sell them, anyway.

Though Ten’s newly merged parent company, Paramount Skydance Corporation, wasted no time in selling off its Argentinian broadcasting arm, global content chief Kevin MacLellan has been on a mission to assure staff at Ten that they are key assets.

MacLellan impressed the audience, largely consisting of media buyers and advertisers, by going off script (just as Tom Gleisner and Ed Kavalee did, to hilarious effect). Asked to talk about his career, MacLellan took a detour to his childhood in 1980s pre-gentrification Brooklyn.

His mother would give him $2 for lunch. “And I would take that $2 and go to the store, buy a dozen bottles of water, head to the subway and sell them for $1 each.” And that, he told the crowd, is why they are his people. “Sales is in my blood.”

His key learning from a lengthy television career? “You stay between five and seven years, but then leave before everyone realises you’re full of shit.”

Unscripted, a little rough and ready – it went down a treat.

So, too, did the promise that new owner David Ellison would bring the technological knowhow (and deep pockets) of his father, squillionaire Oracle founder Larry Ellison, to Paramount Australia, ushering in a new age of seamless digital magic. Or something.

There was much excitement when new Survivor host David Genat (aka the Golden God) took to the stage in resplendent double denim (a lot more than viewers have hitherto seen him wearing), and for Gretel Killeen, the original host of Big Brother, who is returning to Ten after a lengthy absence and will host the next season of Traitors.

But the buzz peaked when guests were invited to take a tour of the Big Brother house.

To get a sneak peek of the massive multicoloured manse, guests had to register online, on their phones. The first tour was supposed to start at 7.15pm. By 7.30pm, the digital registration system had totally collapsed.

Yes, things may be looking up at Ten, but Ellison’s tech team clearly still has its work cut out.

Richo remembered

So much written about former Labor powerbroker and CBD regular Graham Richardson, with the obituary in this newspaper describing him as “artful dodger, kingmaker, spiv, front bar wit, grey eminence, raconteur” before detailing his high political achievements and controversies.

It was in this third act as a commentator for The Australian that one of your columnists encountered him, like many, warming to his charm and dedication.

Ill health was taking its toll on his body, and one week, word came through that Richo was in hospital. Plans for a replacement writer were made. But well before deadline, the fax machine clattered to life with two pages of a column written in cursive longhand. From his hospital bed, Richo had dictated his column to one of the nurses.

Start the day with a summary of the day’s most important and interesting stories, analysis and insights. Sign up for our Morning Edition newsletter.