The BBC's Politics Show today brought together the Health Secretary, Andy Burnham, and his Tory and Lib Dem shadows for a debate on this week's main political story - the row over the funding of personal care. Presenter Jon Sopel understandably opened the interview by teasing out the sudden divergence of opinion on the subject, after an initial attempt at forging a cross-party consensus appeared to have been shattered by the Tory's "RIP Off" poster last week. And so the political posturing began, with Conservative Andrew Lansley straight out of his starting blocks.
Andy Burnham's response to a direct question from Jon Sopel about the row was to meander off on a description of the issue itself, rather than focus on the political bust-up - normally an annoying diversionary tactic, but, on this occasion, one which seemed genuine enough. Sopel was having none of it. He assured the Health Secretary that the discussion would come round to the substance of the issue soon enough, but not before he had commented on the political fallout from the week's events. The tenor of the discussion was set and, inevitably, the substance never really made it to the table.
It wasn't the fault of Jon Sopel. It wasn't the fault of his Producer. It was my (and possibly your) fault for routinely indulging ourselves in the latest political spat. However much we might insist, po-faced, that we care only about the issues, our heads are easily turned by a bit of political theatre on the small screen.
It is for that reason that package-based political programming is so worthwhile. Ironically, The Politics Show is the only regular example of the genre on television, but it was obviously concluded that this particular topic demanded a three-way thrashing-out and nothing more. In-depth, well-crafted packages deftly inform and engage - and we can always have our more combative cravings satisfied in a post-package 'debate'. It is a formula which largely works well on The Politics Show and, traditionally, on many of ITV's regional political programmes - Granada's erstwhile Sunday Supplement being a prime example.
As the broadcasters make their bold plans for the forthcoming General Election - leadership debates, swingometres and the rest - it's to be hoped they remember to provide an outlet for both the substance and the shouting matches.
Sunday 14 February 2010
Tuesday 9 February 2010
Regional news - a confused picture
The GMG decision to sell the Manchester Evening news stable to Trinity Mirror is clearly an important development in the ever-changing landscape of the UK's provincial press. However, from a broadcast news perspective, it is the absence from the deal of Manchester television station Channel M which is particularly interesting.
As mentioned elsewhere on this blog, the Tory idea for securing plurality in regional television news is the creation of dozens of city-based services across the country akin to Channel M. Trinity's decision not to buy the station may have been purely a strategic one. However, if the station is not soon snapped up from a GMG which seems willing to sell, a question mark would surely hang over the viability of the services which are a key tranche of Tory broadcasting policy. And maybe then Jeremy Hunt's vehement opposition to those ITV regional news pilots might seem a little out of step.
As mentioned elsewhere on this blog, the Tory idea for securing plurality in regional television news is the creation of dozens of city-based services across the country akin to Channel M. Trinity's decision not to buy the station may have been purely a strategic one. However, if the station is not soon snapped up from a GMG which seems willing to sell, a question mark would surely hang over the viability of the services which are a key tranche of Tory broadcasting policy. And maybe then Jeremy Hunt's vehement opposition to those ITV regional news pilots might seem a little out of step.
Saturday 6 February 2010
Here's to the hierarchy of news
Where does news come from? You might think that, six months into a Broadcast Journalism Masters, I'd be able to answer that poser in a heartbeat. Not a bit of it.
I had naively imagined before embarking on the course that we were all going to be let in on some kind of industry secret about how journalists get a good story - or any story. It transpires that the secret to finding a story as a trainee journalist is that rare combination of luck and judgement. Luck that you happen across something of vague interest in the first place and judgement that you are able to discern just how vague the interest is permitted to be before it no longer constitutes a story.
Until, that is, you find yourself in the fortunate position of working for a news organisation with real status. Then, it seems, stories have a habit of coming to you. How else to explain the fact that the country's national and local press, not to mention broadcast media, are full of stories which elude the mortal trainee? Because some of us just aren't very good? Well, probably - but I think there is a more fundamental reason.
News finds its way to the organisations with the greatest ability to disseminate it. If you had information on anything from a church fayre to a big political scandal, where are you going to take it? Some obscure blogger (asks the obscure blogger)? No - the chances are you would go straight to one of the 'traditional' media outlets that are increasingly portrayed as some kind of stain on the modern media landscape.
That's not to say established media outlets have it easy when it comes to generating stories. Much of their material will be down to old fashioned legwork and contacts. Yet here again, they excel, because of the access their status affords them. Real journalists from real news organisations succeed where trainees operating in an artificial environment never could.
All of which reinforces my innate scepticism about the fashionable concept that 'we're all journalists now'. Even as a trainee, I don't consider myself a bona fide journalist - no authority has been conferred on my words. The lack of status and access means that I could never aspire to emulate anything a traditional media outlet could produce.
Some commentators seem to be confusing citizen journalism (the ability to state your opinion in a blog or get lucky with some mobile phone footage) with the craft of newsgathering and production. The internet and those who populate it have undoubtedly opened up a new journalistic frontier. The speed, breadth and depth of available information assists journalists enormously - but it should never replace them. Elites are deeply unpopular in an age when the internet is seen as a great leveller. Yet without a journalistic elite to gather, filter and judge the raw material, the competing, partial, biased voices of the internet could mislead us into thinking we know a lot about everything, when, in fact, we know very little about anything at all.
The hierarchy of news remains intact - for now. If the dark day ever comes when the presses stop rolling and the television news goes blank, then we had better hope the organisations behind them survive in some other form. If they don't, then it won't just be trainees like me who will be missing out on stories - we all will.
I had naively imagined before embarking on the course that we were all going to be let in on some kind of industry secret about how journalists get a good story - or any story. It transpires that the secret to finding a story as a trainee journalist is that rare combination of luck and judgement. Luck that you happen across something of vague interest in the first place and judgement that you are able to discern just how vague the interest is permitted to be before it no longer constitutes a story.
Until, that is, you find yourself in the fortunate position of working for a news organisation with real status. Then, it seems, stories have a habit of coming to you. How else to explain the fact that the country's national and local press, not to mention broadcast media, are full of stories which elude the mortal trainee? Because some of us just aren't very good? Well, probably - but I think there is a more fundamental reason.
News finds its way to the organisations with the greatest ability to disseminate it. If you had information on anything from a church fayre to a big political scandal, where are you going to take it? Some obscure blogger (asks the obscure blogger)? No - the chances are you would go straight to one of the 'traditional' media outlets that are increasingly portrayed as some kind of stain on the modern media landscape.
That's not to say established media outlets have it easy when it comes to generating stories. Much of their material will be down to old fashioned legwork and contacts. Yet here again, they excel, because of the access their status affords them. Real journalists from real news organisations succeed where trainees operating in an artificial environment never could.
All of which reinforces my innate scepticism about the fashionable concept that 'we're all journalists now'. Even as a trainee, I don't consider myself a bona fide journalist - no authority has been conferred on my words. The lack of status and access means that I could never aspire to emulate anything a traditional media outlet could produce.
Some commentators seem to be confusing citizen journalism (the ability to state your opinion in a blog or get lucky with some mobile phone footage) with the craft of newsgathering and production. The internet and those who populate it have undoubtedly opened up a new journalistic frontier. The speed, breadth and depth of available information assists journalists enormously - but it should never replace them. Elites are deeply unpopular in an age when the internet is seen as a great leveller. Yet without a journalistic elite to gather, filter and judge the raw material, the competing, partial, biased voices of the internet could mislead us into thinking we know a lot about everything, when, in fact, we know very little about anything at all.
The hierarchy of news remains intact - for now. If the dark day ever comes when the presses stop rolling and the television news goes blank, then we had better hope the organisations behind them survive in some other form. If they don't, then it won't just be trainees like me who will be missing out on stories - we all will.
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