Janine Gibson: Don't throw away your television
The communications bill needn't spell disaster for the small screen.
Channel 4 screened a typically insightful bit of factual TV on Tuesday night. Purporting to be a documentary charting the rise of sex on British television, it was in fact a motley collection of media-friendly pundits "remembering" groundbreaking moments. It may as well have been called Top Ten TV Shags.
There was, however, one properly revealing moment when Dennis Potter's TV play Brimstone and Treacle was discussed. This play, written in 1976, featured the rape of a severely disabled girl by the devil - a trauma which miraculously cures her of her ailments - and was banned by the BBC for more than 10 years; not because of a regulator or censor, but because the corporation itself felt the message was too shocking.
Potter's impact on our culture - as one of a handful of innovative writers dedicated to television - was enormous. Most TV professionals would acknowledge a debt to him. But he was never a ratings winner, wouldn't have troubled Heartbeat's Sunday-night supremacy and would doubtless have difficulty getting a script past today's broadcasters.
The reason he and his fellow innovators are important is not so much their impact on viewers as their influence on other practitioners. Their programmes enrich the culture and influence the next generation of scriptwriters and programme-makers.
At first glance, the government's draft communications bill would appear to be a disaster for future Potters. Its headline revelation - that US owners will for the first time be able to buy our commercial broadcasters - is not a piece of legislation designed to protect our cultural heritage; on the contrary, its purpose seems to be to flog off 40 years of history to pretty much anyone. But even though the commercial rules of the game are about to change dramatically, it is too soon to throw away your TV set - there are ways in which the heirs of Potter can be protected and nurtured.
The battle over whether Rupert Murdoch should own even larger chunks of UK media has been lost, but there are still principles to be fought for. The real fight isn't over foreign ownership of our TV channels - that is a red herring. Channel 5 has been run by Germans for years, and anyone who seriously believes that Disney could do a worse job of running ITV than that displayed over the past month by our homegrown media giants, Carlton and Granada, should be forced to watch Dennis Norden's Laughter File. Repeatedly.
Whether ITV is owned by men in suits in Los Angeles or Macclesfield isn't what is going to change the face of British television. It is true that the concerns over regional news in the north-east probably haven't impinged on the Disney studios in Burbank, and even its chief executive, Michael Eisner, would find it hard to feign concern over maintaining a local production base in the west country, but don't be fooled into thinking that the current ITV owners bother about such things either. Mr Eisner might also have thought twice before bankrupting half the Football League.
The only way to create a conscience in the media owners of the modern era is to inflict it on them through regulation, which is why the second plank of this bill needs much more work. Creating a "lighter touch" on content regulation has been part of the government's agenda since the then culture secretary Chris Smith announced four years ago that he would do away with much of the box-ticking that specified quotas for arts, religion and other worthy genres. That assault on tokenism was a fine principle, but it does not sit with the sort of bring-and-buy sale now envisaged by the communications bill.
If the government genuinely believes that additional investment is essential - and hasn't just sold its soul to a powerful bidder - then the only way to protect what is good and worthwhile about these industries is through more content regulation, not less. As the communications bill progresses through committee stage and 1,001 interests are bolted on, the role of Ofcom will be increasingly significant. This new super-watchdog, already potentially the most influential body there has ever been in our cultural lives, needs to have the power to stimulate and defend a varied broadcasting diet. To have any chance of maintaining innovation, work of distinction and a plurality of voices in our media, Ofcom will have to take a very firm hand with the BBC, which under Greg Dyke has become increasingly ratings-driven.
If the only thing that will henceforth be distinctive about our television is the publicly funded, free-from-advertising, public service broadcaster then that broadcaster must start being distinguishable from its commercial equivalents. If the BBC isn't going to broadcast Potter's plays, then ITV/Disney or Channel 5/Sky One most certainly aren't.
Janine Gibson is the Guardian's media editor.
There was, however, one properly revealing moment when Dennis Potter's TV play Brimstone and Treacle was discussed. This play, written in 1976, featured the rape of a severely disabled girl by the devil - a trauma which miraculously cures her of her ailments - and was banned by the BBC for more than 10 years; not because of a regulator or censor, but because the corporation itself felt the message was too shocking.
Potter's impact on our culture - as one of a handful of innovative writers dedicated to television - was enormous. Most TV professionals would acknowledge a debt to him. But he was never a ratings winner, wouldn't have troubled Heartbeat's Sunday-night supremacy and would doubtless have difficulty getting a script past today's broadcasters.
The reason he and his fellow innovators are important is not so much their impact on viewers as their influence on other practitioners. Their programmes enrich the culture and influence the next generation of scriptwriters and programme-makers.
At first glance, the government's draft communications bill would appear to be a disaster for future Potters. Its headline revelation - that US owners will for the first time be able to buy our commercial broadcasters - is not a piece of legislation designed to protect our cultural heritage; on the contrary, its purpose seems to be to flog off 40 years of history to pretty much anyone. But even though the commercial rules of the game are about to change dramatically, it is too soon to throw away your TV set - there are ways in which the heirs of Potter can be protected and nurtured.
The battle over whether Rupert Murdoch should own even larger chunks of UK media has been lost, but there are still principles to be fought for. The real fight isn't over foreign ownership of our TV channels - that is a red herring. Channel 5 has been run by Germans for years, and anyone who seriously believes that Disney could do a worse job of running ITV than that displayed over the past month by our homegrown media giants, Carlton and Granada, should be forced to watch Dennis Norden's Laughter File. Repeatedly.
Whether ITV is owned by men in suits in Los Angeles or Macclesfield isn't what is going to change the face of British television. It is true that the concerns over regional news in the north-east probably haven't impinged on the Disney studios in Burbank, and even its chief executive, Michael Eisner, would find it hard to feign concern over maintaining a local production base in the west country, but don't be fooled into thinking that the current ITV owners bother about such things either. Mr Eisner might also have thought twice before bankrupting half the Football League.
The only way to create a conscience in the media owners of the modern era is to inflict it on them through regulation, which is why the second plank of this bill needs much more work. Creating a "lighter touch" on content regulation has been part of the government's agenda since the then culture secretary Chris Smith announced four years ago that he would do away with much of the box-ticking that specified quotas for arts, religion and other worthy genres. That assault on tokenism was a fine principle, but it does not sit with the sort of bring-and-buy sale now envisaged by the communications bill.
If the government genuinely believes that additional investment is essential - and hasn't just sold its soul to a powerful bidder - then the only way to protect what is good and worthwhile about these industries is through more content regulation, not less. As the communications bill progresses through committee stage and 1,001 interests are bolted on, the role of Ofcom will be increasingly significant. This new super-watchdog, already potentially the most influential body there has ever been in our cultural lives, needs to have the power to stimulate and defend a varied broadcasting diet. To have any chance of maintaining innovation, work of distinction and a plurality of voices in our media, Ofcom will have to take a very firm hand with the BBC, which under Greg Dyke has become increasingly ratings-driven.
If the only thing that will henceforth be distinctive about our television is the publicly funded, free-from-advertising, public service broadcaster then that broadcaster must start being distinguishable from its commercial equivalents. If the BBC isn't going to broadcast Potter's plays, then ITV/Disney or Channel 5/Sky One most certainly aren't.
Janine Gibson is the Guardian's media editor.
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