Last night
the Nation’s eyes were focused on one of the most dramatic by-elections in
recent history. The major parties were
at risk of being tossed aside in favour of a newcomer. In a foretaste,
potentially, of a dramatic General Election, here was a significant moment in Newark.
Just after
1130 p.m, I thought I’d check in to see how things were going as polling day
ended and the votes began to be counted from the battered black boxes. As this was a single election, I turned to
BBC local radio for my quick update. I
anticipated that the results would not yet be in, but that we’d get the usual
early chatter and indications.
The ‘historic’
town of Newark sits on the edge of a couple of BBC areas, but given it is
clearly a Nottinghamshire town geographically, I tuned to BBC Radio Nottingham
for my fix; a station for which I have huge affection, not least because it
belongs to my home-town. In any case,
the content at that time of night is usually regional anyway, so I felt pretty
sure I’d be brought up to date fairly swiftly.
I heard a
song. I concluded that the programme was
to be a blend of information, other chat and music; and, hey, that would have
been fine. We’ve all been part of dreary election programmes where there is not
much yet to say, so I felt a mix of normal content and election updates plus a
few suitable songs would may be a defensible option.
As the song
ended, I heard a jolly mystery sound contest. Then a song, then more mystery
sound. Then a song. Then more mystery sound. Then another song (Crispian St.
Peters, by the way, was indeed the correct artist name. There appeared to be a tad of confusion from
the presenter lucky enough to be younger than me and most listeners).
Nothing about
the election.
As the
County’s 50 plusses moved to their beds, they heard nothing about one of the
most significant in recent history on the radio station claiming to serve their
patch.
The midnight
news update would tell me, I thought. There wasn’t one.
There never is. The fact there randomly never
is a touch puzzling to me. It’s the only
hour of the 24 hour weekday when, for some inexplicable reason, the BBC reckons
no-one wants to hear what’s happening - locally or nationally. I
reckon that last bulletin as you go to sleep is pretty useful. Late
bulletins used to be extended in days gone by on many services. On this night, at least, I thought
someone might have agreed a news update would be a pretty good idea. It’s where casual listeners would expect to
find it. But they didn’t.
So, after
the midnight hour and the Isley Brothers, suddenly, I was alerted to the prospect
of ‘a recap’. ‘Ah’, I thought, ‘here we go’. But no.
It was a recap on secret sound before more chatter about leaving gifts.
At last, at
about 1225, we were treated to a report from the Count. I knew they were there, because they were Tweeting merrily, which I am
sure was useful to the significant proportion of BBC local listeners 50+ who
use Twitter actively. I also knew they’d
be there because I knew the station would do a stunning job in the morning when,
I agree, the bulk of the audience lies.
But
listeners do not often stay around for an hour for a sniff of what they seek.
Hearing nothing from about 1130 to about 1220 (
I later uncovered a report at about 1120, before I’d listened) might lead any
normal listener to feel that the station was not across this story and give up. There was nothing wrong with the presenter’s
performance that night: the jolly chit
chat is fine at that time of the evening. It is just that on this key night, I
imagined there would have been some management and production direction to say
something about the election every now and again.
There should
certainly have been a midnight news bulletin.
Is this a
case of ‘too late at night for management to bother about unless journalists
get very excited’. I think back to the night of the riots, when the likes of
BBC Manchester and BBC WM (and many commercial stations) were live and reflecting
unrest in their communities the way they should. East Midlands did not that night. David Holdsworth, head of BBC Local Radio,
suggested later to me that I was getting my knickers in a twist for no reason: there
were not any riots in Nottingham. He was
wrong. There was violence – and there
was fear. It was a frightening night in the City. Thankfully not to key urban levels but real
unrest. My dad was worried. People were
looking to their local station for reassurance. They got a phone-in on Elvis lookalikes.
If you are going
to claim to be part of BBC news, you’ve got to do it when it’s a bit late
sometimes. In capable hands, the tone of a show which is usually fun banter can easily nod to something more serious when needed.
We all get
things wrong on our stations. I know that more than most. But a pending period affords you the time to
think about getting it right. I hope
those whose jobs it is might, this morning, reflect on whether the late show could
have been produced to make sure the election was mentioned every now and again –
so listeners could hang around, safe in the knowledge that a formal update
would follow.
They might also ask
whether or not a midnight bulletin would have been a good idea on one of the
most significant nights in recent electoral history.
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