The bongs verses the beats - or just old news?

When the print press turns its attention to the broadcast news industry, it is usually to report machinations that matter only to media insiders or to generate soap opera-style intrigue for the masses.  In both scenarios, the basis of the story is so often ITV's News at Ten.   Whether it be the original decision to axe the programme in the late 1990s, its various comebacks or a change to its many iconic newscasters, the programme has inspired more than its share of column inches.

Rarely has this been more evident than in the months since the channel revamped the format of what was the nation's first half-hour news bulletin. From the moment Tom Bradby was installed as the programme's new anchor, there has been an avalanche of articles focussing on the fluff -  his looks and royal acquaintances - and the facts - a serious attempt to overhaul a broadcasting institution.   Not to mention a spat over ratings with BBC counterpart Huw Edwards, which straddles both categories.   QED.

Bradby was brought in with the seemingly contradictory objective of making the programme less formal and yet also more upmarket.   However, October's overhaul was a soft launch (which fermented this week with a new on-air look) and so a degree of experimentation could be justified in the name of getting it right.   Since then, the strikingly conversational tone has been slightly subdued, but other editorial changes have bedded in - longer packages and a more analytical bent, in the form of extended conversations with correspondents.   Three months in, the strategy might now be best described as less formulaic rather than less formal, more interpretive rather than more intellectual (although the phrase "non-sequitur" made an unlikely appearance last week).

In spite of the breathtaking ignorance and arrogance which characterises much of what passes for informed media comment on this subject, ITN is simply building on what ITV News has always done best - bold, but accessible, thoughtful, yet meaningful television journalism. Unfortunately, the myopic actions of a malign ITV management regime nearly twenty years ago allowed a narrative to be woven which conflated a then downmarket trend in the channel with the quality of its independently-produced news output.   No such link existed, but the dye was cast and sadly stains to this day.

ITN weathered the 'News at When?' wilderness years and more enlightened channel bosses soon recognised what Trevor McDonald later described as the "shocking mistake" of sidelining news content and put it back at the heart of the schedule.   Yet, even today, broad-brush misconceptions persist, perhaps best crystalised by Polly Toynbee opining on Twitter that she would "hardly ever see" Robert Peston after his defection to ITV - as if her finger might dissolve should it even hover over the third button on her TV remote.   All too often, media commentators appear to have read the script, but not watched the output.  

Whilst it would be invidious to compare the relative merits of Bradby as a solo anchor to the established pairing of Mark Austin and Julie Etchingham, there is, in any case, much else about News at Ten's refresh which is worthy of comment.   ITV News seems to cultivate a culture of powerful and creative storytelling;  it is one one which has percolated through the ranks from one generation to the next, with a spine of long-serving correspondents at its core.   The likes of John Irvine and Geraint Vincent, amongst many others, turn the process into something akin to an art form.   So it makes sense to afford more time to the building block of TV news - the package - when it is such a well-practised craft.   

Similarly, the analytical weight offered by an expanded team of editors brings greater scope for context and allows for easier development of running themes.   Tracking a group of refugess across Europe was standout journalism of the type for which ITN (via ITV) is famed - at least by those who understand the history, rather than the histrionics, of broadcast news.   Dedicating the vast majority of one edition to disecting an interview with fomer Guantanamo detainee Shaker Aamer was something else - a statement of intent.

Yet as much as this revamp matters to ITV and ITN, it matters just as much to the wider broadcast news sector.   It's a stark fact that the audience figures over which Edwards and Bradby were quibbling late last year are down by around a combined seven million for the flagship BBC and ITV bulletins since the late 1990s, with ITV's audience barely a third of the level it once enjoyed.   Even allowing for the scheduling clash which has arisen since, that is evidence of a clear direction of travel, reflected in the decreasing share of total viewing accounted for by news.   So is appointment-to-view news just an ageing anachronism in an on-demand era?

Clearly, there are still millions who value the concept of a daily digest and many, like me, who would not want their news any other way.   Yet statistics unsurprisingly show a sharp decline in linear television news viewing within the youngest age groups.   Even amongst those for whom 'the news' has been a constant, the possibility of a drift to digital is a real one.

The evangelists say such a shift does not matter, that content is king.   Yet the ecosystem of broadcast news is delicate when transposed into a digital-only future.   OFCOM found that, whilst three in five people regularly use the BBC website or app, just one in twenty use that of ITV and, perplexingly, a meagre one in a hundred turn to the televisually-trusted Channel 4 News when operating in the on-line world (1).

That portends a significant future threat to a key component of a healthy broadcast news industry and one which this blog has regularly championed - plurality.   Should the sad day ever come when their primary on-screen product becomes unviable, it seems unlikely that commercially-funded operators will make the same level of investment in a digital offering with such potentially poor returns.

Competition between the main players in broadcast news has always been to the benefit of the viewer.   Coincidence of timing it may be, but the BBC has this month lengthened its own ten o'clock bulletin as a new front opens in the ratings battle.   And whether or not it is so manifestly overt as it has been in recent months, professional pride will always engender a desire to be the biggest, the fastest - or simply the best.    That makes for better content across the board and helps television defy the digital odds and remain the most popular platform for news consumption (2).

So whatever judgment is finally made about the latest News at Ten revamp, it will hopefully have achieved one thing for which even its competitors should be thankful - making a demanding and distracted audience think again about television news.

(1) OFCOM News Consumption in the UK 2014    
(2) OFCOM News Consumption in the UK 2015 

The current affairs conundrum

If you had your fill of shiny floor shows and sensationalist soaps over Christmas, you might just be in the mood to settle down to some serious current affairs (humour me, I realise I am in a minority).  Yet as you scan the TV listings for the well-known strands the genre has to offer, you may discover that they are a little more difficult to find than they once were.

Fortunately, these big beasts are all still roaming the television jungle.   However, schedulers no longer rely on the heft of the brand to pull in viewers to their current affairs output - rather, they let the subject matter do the talking.   To that end, established names like Dispatches, Panorama and Tonight are relegated to sub-titles and are usually absent altogether from on-screen guides - whilst what once would have been an episode title instead takes the lead in the listings.   Only relative newcomer Exposure now dares to maintain its own moniker upfront.

The rationale for this development is obvious.   At a stroke, it eliminates the 'turn-off' factor amongst those who would automatically bypass anything with the whiff of a genre which they assume is not for them.   It is a clever bit of positioning which seemingly works.   A boxset-addicted friend recently revealed, to my surprise, that she had watched an episode of Dispatches.   Of course, she failed to identify it as Dispatches and simply asked if I had seen "that programme about Aldi last night?"   Does she know anything about the series or its heritage?   No.   Would she have watched had the programme simply been billed as Dispatches, even with an accompanying blurb about the content?   Almost certainly not.

My own anecdotal evidence was borne out across the country on that particular occasion, as Aldi's Supermarket Secrets became the highest-rated edition of Dispatches in six years, drawing in more than three million viewers, compared to a series average of 1.3 million.   However, eschewing the strand only gets the programme-makers so far - the substituted title must still captivate in an instant if it is to generate a healthy audience.   

There is no doubt that this device has quickly developed some notable traits.   As in the Aldi edition of Dispatches, there seems to be a preponderance of programmes whose title claims the revelation of "secrets" - something which the best current affairs does by definition, but has never trumpeted so loudly before.   Then there is the (very) direct question - "Are You Addicted to Sugar?" (Dispatches), "How Safe is Meat?" (Tonight) and the forthcoming Panorama, "Can You Cure My Multiple Sclerosis?" - designed to pique our natural self-interest and leave the potential viewer almost obliged to watch.   Finally, if all else fails, throw in the word "Britain" - the subliminal message being:  this issue concerns the whole country, so it must concern me.

So what does this trend tell us about the current state of current affairs?   The template for titles risks setting a tabloid tone, but, mercifully, the journalism remains largely as rigorous as ever.   The topics under discussion can be populist, but there is no shame in being rooted in relevance.   World in Action, the ITV stalwart which should be the inspiration for any current affairs programme, produced groundbreaking investigations about extremism and righted miscarriages of justice - but wasn't afraid to consider more mundane matters like the potential for manipulating the top 40.      

The danger is that the pursuit of ratings and relevance becomes a pre-requisite in a genre which is not always guaranteed to deliver either.   In that scenario, the potential for squeezing out the exceptional public interest journalism which has always punctuated current affairs strands is obvious.   For the most part, such pressure is being resisted - precisely because, for those involved in producing the programmes, it is usually a force exerted from above and not a temptation in itself.

Documentary producer Roger Graef makes the point that he and his counterparts across the industry want their efforts to be seen by as wide an audience as possible.   However, he rightly cautions against an obsessive focus on potential ratings at the commissioning stage, for fear that this creates a stultifying atmosphere which works against generating the kind of popular success that both broadcasters and producers are seeking.

Current affairs, in particular, walks a tightrope between mass-appeal and meaningful journalism.   In the analogue world of the 1980s, ITV licencees were often as interested in the prestige of a programme as its popularity.   Back then, they could afford to be.   London Weekend Television tacitly acknowledged an inversely proportional relationship between the two measures (1).   Today, even the BBC is not immune from considerations of cost and audience share.   It is heartening, therefore, that in multi-platform 2016, 'brave' commissioning decisions are still being taken.

Dispatches editor Daniel Pearl draws a distinction between "programmes where you want a lot of people to watch and programmes where it's not about audience."   It is a mark of the strength of the TV current affairs ethos that such a line has survived the twin pressures of dwindling budgets and a rush for ratings - and remains intact across all outlets.   Accordingly, Dispatches still manages to produce exemplary foreign affairs pieces from warzones, Panorama affords a chunk of primetime to consider the routinely neglected Northern Ireland and Tonight tackles the little-known subject of contaminated cabin air.   Perhaps most extraordinarily of all, Exposure crafts a commercial hour for ITV on the British firms who offer bribes for business abroad - direct relevance to the average viewer may have been close to zero, but it matters that programmes like this are made.

Not everything about television current affairs is perfect - since this blog last assessed the genre in 2012, Panorama has had its investigative wings clipped, almost all the strands have a markedly smaller annual slate and not every edition of every series always hits the mark.   Its stoicism and its scope, however, are worth celebrating and promoting.

Ultimately, chasing ratings in current affairs may be as futile as it is frustrating. The sector's share of viewing has remained static at around 4% for the past decade.   And while there are individual ratings hits, these rarely come from the tougher end of the spectrum - and, in truth, never did. Yet even in the digital age, that fact has not precluded any of our terrestrial broadcasters from exploring challenging and unexpected topics - a victory in itself.   Because if the message ever goes out that certain subjects are off limits to the journalistic force that is current affairs television, then, as citizens, we are all the poorer for it - whether, as viewers, we notice or not.

(1) "LWT in the 1980s," Rod Allen, in ITV Cultures, Catherine Johnson & Rob Turnock (eds), Open University Press, 2005.