What I hate about television now

I can’t tune in for a relaxed evening in front of the goggle box any more, it’s too frustrating. If I want to watch a programme that starts on the hour, I know it’s not likely to start until two, three or four minutes past because they’re still showing ads and promos. But when it does get started, it’s increasingly likely they will go to their first ad break as early as eight minutes past although mostly they do that at about twelve minutes past and run ads until almost eighteen or even twenty past. It lasts that long because they’re not just running ads, they’re running trailers for upcoming programmes. So a typical sequence would be a bump slide or short for the programme sponsors, then perhaps a short promo for another programme, then some ads, then some ‘announcements’ about what’s on later in the evening, with perhaps another promo, then a bump slide or short for the programme sponsor again and finally we’re back into the programme for another few minutes until the next ad break. If I’m just switching on to browse what’s on, there’s a high probability all the channels I’m cycling through are on an ad break. Or I might be lucky and catch an actual programme, but it will only be for a few minutes before the ads start. Even the BBC routinely start programmes late because they show so many promos and announcements but I still think the license fee is worth the money to have a few channels ad-free. I just resent paying Rupert Murdoch a fortune each month and still having to watch adverts.

The only way I can cope with this is to scan the schedules for programmes I might like, and then record them. At least then I can fast-forward through the dross. On the whole, it’s a vicious cycle. The more ads the broadcasters show, the less attention we pay to them and the less impact they have. On the other hand, if they cut back on the time they sell to advertisers they could bill it at a higher rate. Fear causes broadcasters to slash their rates to compete with each other and with other media, and to increase the time they take from programming to keep revenue up, all of this to the detriment of everyone. I’d be happy to adopt the German model (as it as when I lived there, anyway) or now in China where ads are shown between programmes, not during. Maybe then we’ll see the classic advertising again that we used to enjoy when ads were worth watching as entertainment in their own right. Bring back the PG Tips monkeys.

Does it matter whether Aung San Suu Kyi likes us or not?

When John Simpson interviewed Burma’s pro-democracy leader Aung San Suu Kyi last November, the most striking thing about her was her English accent. It was very old-school received pronunciation, exactly what one used to hear on the BBC World Service years ago, all prim and proper. She explained to him at the time that she listened to the BBC a lot while she was under house arrest, and she elaborated on the topic in the Telegraph yesterday. According to Aung San Suu Kyi: my love for the Hairy Cornflake, she particularly enjoyed listening to music which, she laments, is not often heard on the service any more.

The reason for that, I suspect, and for the timing of the interview, becomes clearer with today’s story: BBC World Service receives £2.2m funding boost. The World Service has been subjected to a massive 16% budget cut, on top of many cutbacks in services over the years. One such cut, I would guess, is to play less music and pay less in royalties which would be why Ms Suu Kyi can’t hear any any more. As well as cutting expenditure, the World Service is also cutting its workforce by a whopping 25% and dropping still more language services. All of this is deeply depressing. But it must be good news that William Hague has found £2.2 million to give a boost to the World Service, surely? Not really. A 16% cut on a budget of £270 million is £43.2 million. Giving the corporation £2.2 million back still leaves it £41 million down. That £2.2 million is much less than 1%. It’s chicken feed.

When I lived in Germany, I used to listen to the World Service regularly, it was my strongest link back to England. Ex-pats are inordinately attached to the traditions of their native land and I can still hear Lillibullero, that jaunty, bouncing melody that introduced the news at One o-clock each day with more than a twinge of nostalgia. Not parochial news from and about England, but truly world news, events that were shaping the world we lived in that most of my compatriots back home would be blissfully ignorant of. You can hear the tune here.

What the World Service does for us and our standing in the world is enormous, but the benefits are all intangibles. And that’s a problem in this balance-sheet driven world; the World Service doesn’t make a profit for us. Last year there were 188 million listeners and audiences in Persian, Urdu and Arabic are increasing. What built it’s reputation is that from the start the news was written and presented by serious journalists, the best in the business for objectivity, it wasn’t “British propaganda”, it was honest and unbiased news reportage. Listeners across the world, particularly in oppressed states, could tune in to hear the news in their own language about what was going on in their own country. They did not have to believe what their rulers were telling them.

In an age when Facebook and Twitter can be used to stir revolution, the BBC World Service is still a significant force for good. So does it matter that Aung San Suu Kyi likes us? With respect, no. It’s good that she shares values with us, but what matters more is that dictators the world over don’t like us because we are able to talk directly to their people and tell them the truth.

Isn’t truth supposed to be mightier than the sword?