Friday 9 December 2016

If It Bleeds It Leads

“If it bleeds, it leads”.

It’s a great quote which the Executive Director of News at the Danish Broadcasting Corporation reminded me of in a presentation I saw recently.

He reckons it’s wrong though.  He’s not saying bulletins have to be jolly -  because that’s a familiar argument and I'm not sure there's much evidence of 'good news bulletins' catching on even when tried.  It’s more about how to make news constructive - exploring potential solutions as much as the problems.

I reckon he’s right.

I recall one story from the BBC’s Ten O Clock TV bulletin yesterday. A happiness survey suggested that more old folk are feeling lonely. But instead of labouring the dull detail of the stats with some posh expert in twinset and pearls, we heard, instead, of a truly great project where 80+ year old women had built their own complex where they could live, mix and support each other. They’d designed it, fought for it, delivered it and moved in.  As I sat watching, I imagined these determined intelligent women watching themselves back on TV and toasting their achievements. Rock on.

We know that a lot of news is unavoidably depressing; and there’s little we can do about that.  But if we always look for the negative in stories where there is equally a positive, always the problems but never any solutions, then the World will seem like a pretty depressing place. 

Is 'fear-based' journalism a lazy solution? For every survey-led story about X% thinking Y, those stats may well also suggest a larger proportion of folk think the more palatable opposite.

After forty years of coverage suggesting that the EC is a pretty messed up project, should we really be surprised that the nation chose to vote out?

I observe the BBC appears to be attaching some welcome importance to this thinking and, in its own wisely careful way, is just planting a few alternate thoughts in its news treatments.

Ulric Haagerup explores the theory in his book 'Constructive News' and the themes are being echoed around the World.

I’ve been doing a little work back at the coal face of late, and was faced with handling an interview about a local project which had not been quite as successful as was envisaged.  Whilst the ‘challenge’ and ‘hold to account’ mantra certainly has its place in a newsroom, there was a bit of me that wanted to say ‘It would be great for our City if you could get things sorted – and good luck’. I sort of did. What is a local radio station really about?

Challenging is all very well, but as broadcasters, do we not also have a similar responsibility to allow the time for explanation - and constructive examples where they exist.  Whether you’re for it or against it, have we heard as many real stories about the positive examples of fracking around the world as we have the negative ones, as we face having operations in our back yards? How can we really start to evaluate the matter sensibly?

The fresh thinking has to be welcomed. What is our real duty as a broadcaster? Why do we do the news?  Does it have to be done the way it always has been?

The political world now, with unprecedented levels of media, supplemented by ill-informed social media, is starting to show the signs of desperation.  When we hear each day, each hour, how all things are flawed, with little hope of success, then we are bound to vote for change. Not really stopping to consider what change might bring.

Does misery bring audiences? Yes, people want to be kept 'up to date' - but I'm aware that some talk newsrooms worry that a never-ending diet of concern and disaster is driving audiences away.

Social media is worryingly miserable. One of my hobbies is to thumb through tweets from someone who has been unduly accusative on some topic or other and find they are just as annoyed by just about everything else in their life. 

With those as a backdrop, as responsible broadcasters, maybe it is time for us to be less professionally miserable. More constructive in our story treatments.

Related post: The future of the radio news bulletin

My book 'How to Make Great Radio' is out now from Biteback.

Monday 28 November 2016

Today's TechCon - a Lay Review

Some of the session presenters at the very early TechCons used to remind me of those maths teachers in nylon shirts who'd use one of those old overhead projectors with their nice-smelling acetates.

On the contrary, today's well-attended conference boasted truly fascinating topics, each presented by a enviably gifted and informed communicator.

This is neither a technical nor an exhaustive account of today's TechCon, given I am not technical and I am exhausted.

As I pointed out from the stage, with the compère's hat on, this year's conference was independent of the Radio Academy, although my dear Academy remained supportive. A sort of soft Brexit, I guess.

The British Library, increasingly good friends of radio and audio kicked off. They'd commissioned a report on the future of radio, which was duly presented by Nicky Birch from Rosina Sounds. You can read it here

Dave Walters was up next from BBC Design and Engineering.  One of the best techies I've ever had the pleasure of working with. Having successfully managed to build radio studios fit for TV, he outlined how the industry might make them genuinely internet-fit. It's not just about an extra screen screwed to the desk. It's about recording all the inputs. 

As Dave pointed out, there's a whole load of stuff happening at particular moments in the course of a live programme, such as the mic going live, which can be recorded alongside the audio. If the whole 'object' can be saved rather than just an audio stream, you can then mix it later for whatever purpose you wish.  It can also spit out a transcript, indication of junctions, and loads of useful other metadata. My programmer's eye imagined the value of being able to isolate elements of a programme so efficiently. It's an impressive concept - now being trialled in the BBC's pilot internet-fit studio at BH.

Last year, we heard how radio fought against the odds in strife-torn South Sudan. Delegates recalled the battle-scarred satellite dish with its bullet holes. This time, the message from Issa Kassimu from Internews was positive, with a full account of how they'd managed to solar power a radio station. Not a bad idea when you've loads of sun and no fuel.  Issa insisted it would work here too; and one delegate reminded us of a TV mast in Scotland which calls upon that very power source.

Tony Churnside, head of Technology for Magnetic North headlined his KTN report on audio innovation; and his colleague reminded us that funding for audio R & D is available. But it transpires few applications are received for radio/audio funding. Let's change that.

In-car. The infuriatingly knowledgeable Nick Piggott was joined by the irrepressible Mike Hill from Radio Player and  CharlotteSimon from BBC MCR. They acknowledged that in-car entertainment was pretty simple once hybrid radio was installed, with layers of IP info layered instantly on the broadcast signal. 

The posh car manufacturers are apparently becoming a little concerned that their bargain cousins could so easily access the same level of in-car audio experience. There was a lovely visual too, from a Ted talk showing how driver-less cars could be driven easily at high speed through complex junctions provided that every vehicle was computer controlled. One manual 'old granny', it was pointed out, would not last long.

When Sound Digital won the second national commercial multiplex, it was clear that a number of of new stations would require studio facilities. And quickly.  Neil Sedley from Wireless Group International explained how they managed to squeeze the new studios into their existing building, and create a performance space, as befits Virgin. 

Some tenants were moved out; the poor CEO's office got moved to the back; and the canteen was depleted.  Impressively moustached Neil confessed the sort of headaches we all encounter with major projects: the studio door manufacturer went bust, and the tenants happened to be on a six month notice period. All went well though, and though he would only smile when I asked if it was all on budget, I gather the total amount was impressively low and he'd kept to budget, bar the shouting.

Staying with Virgin, later in the day, we heard the tech tale of the station's launch OB - from a Virgin Pendolino train. As you might expect, the idea appears to have emerged from a drink-fuelled occasion, and the train loan was negotiated thanks to help from the very bearded top of Virgin. 

Phil Critchlow told the story. 3G and 4G was used, through the twelve aerials on top of the train. I admired the forethought - there was a full trial run, which was no mean achievement given the route was atypical and had to be rehearsed in full - through the night.  Virgin wisely had insisted on such a broadcast trial before committing. Clearly there were some dodgy patches of reception, but once identified specifically in the dry-run, the programme running order could be scheduled round them. I so, so admired the forethought here, at a level alas too often absent from too much British radio.

Chris Pike from BBC R & D is a genius. His immersive sound demonstration was thoroughly engaging as we sat in our special headphones. Chris explained with the aid of his dummy 'Ed', with microphones duly installed in each ear, how the effect simulates the effect of a head listening, with its two ears separated by, well, a head. 

This stuff is important for radio to consider - as more listening is done using headphones and current trends suggest that almost 1 in 10 households will have a VR device by Christmas. He explained some of the challenges, not least the thought of a chap trying to mix the sound element to a piece of VR when he can't see the keyboard as he's got his VR goggles on.

'It's just a fucking app', proclaimed a confident Tom Bartindale from Open Lab at Newcastle University, as he explained how the team had provided radio for migrant camps through one-to-many phone-based systems. The source 'studio' end was just one person with a smartphone equipped with an app which could handle incoming contributor calls and any other relevant incoming information. He even illustrated how the incoming callers could choose their topic from a list, avoiding the need for producers to intervene. And, if you really did want a 'producer' to intercept the calls to the programme first, they could easily join the 'broadcast' chain.

That was fascinating, and dreamt up by someone who conceded 'I'm not one of you'. From the outside of our industry, he'd delivered a stream of rich speech content which could easily be a 'radio station'. As BBC local radio considers its sustainable future, I hope it looks at models like that as a thought starter. 

He also dubbed the usual call vetting producer-processes at traditional stations 'triage'. I'd not heard that medical phrase used in quite that way before. It's very good. 

Not many jocks hit the news on time nowadays. That annoys me. As does hearing but half of Bohemian Rhapsody.   But problems with timing have far more serious implications around the world when universal time and GPS differ. Satellite implications too, as clocks closer to a massive object, like the Earth, tick more slowly than ones further away. If all aeroplane landings are to be automated, timing needs sorting. Egnos is the answer. Thought I'd reassure you.

I adore the World Service.  But Kim Jong-Un likely doesn't, as the BBC prepares to add  the North Korean peninsula to its ambit. New languages and services are being bolted on to our overseas efforts on a scale not seen since WWII. Some overseas governments are accordingly none too keen on Auntie, and similar external broadcasters, and the list of countries jamming her is interesting. The tale of international cat and mouse sounded like Ofcom vs the pirates on a London housing estate. Thankfully, the BBC had clever answers. 

I often dictate texts and short documents - and my phone seems pretty damn good at understanding my waffle. Clever Doctors Cleo Pike and Amy Beeston offered some fascinating insight into 'machine listening', that is systems like Siri and Alexa. But also there are systems which take some learnings from how our ears themselves work. It seems that our lugs are pretty clever at filtering out confusing noise almost before sounds start to be processed fully by the brain. The brain also takes context and acoustics into account. If machine listening could be as canny as our ear-hole, we're sorted.

'Machine listening' is clever stuff, not only hearing what we say, but the prosody of how we say it, even inferring meaning as to how well people get on by how they interject and engage. This was simply a fascinating session. 

Software-Defined Radio was covered off by the endearing Danny Webster from Lime Microsystems who really ought to get himself a YouTube channel with his understated effortless boffin humour. 

SDR is something which has been around some time, but it's clear that in a fast changing world, software you can update is better than hardware you can't. 

He'd even troubled to draw a scribbled pic of his front room with all its sound and visual entertainment gadgets, imagining one piece of software-defined gubbins which could be re-programmed with ease as new sources emerge. There was mention too of how you might read next door's electricity meter, but for the life of me I cannot recall why it was mentioned, and why anyone would wish to do it. He reminded us too that projects such as this are largely passion projects driven by retired engineers who then inconsiderately go and die.

Concluded by a round up from BFBS's Dave Ramsay, this was a brilliantly informative and fascinating day in a wonderful quirky theatre - one which had opened as radio itself was beginning.

From my wobbly seat, I found it the best TechCon yet. Huge congratulations to Ann, Aradhna and Andy for pulling it together at their own risk with their various committee members, helpers, supporters - and key sponsor, Broadcast Bionics

Spread the word, and if it returns next year (which I hope it does), do book a ticket. 

Anyone in programme management who does not take an active interest in the tech side of our great industry risks being left behind these days. 

If I've messed up anything techy, please let me know

My book 'How to Make Great Radio' is available here

Thursday 24 November 2016

Give Me a Song Title about....

It’s like a disease on British radio.

This ‘let us know a song title to do with the budget’ business.  Or ‘can you think of a song title which fits this dull news story?’.

I’m not quite sure what the goal is.  Maybe I’m missing something.

After laborious trawls for calls  - with no integral value in those talk ups whatsoever - I’m feasted with an incessant number of ways of getting in touch.  

Eventually a few regular listeners with nothing else to do with their lives get in touch with dubious offerings.  They think they’re funny, but I’m not sure anyone else does

Some presenters go one step further. They invite us to sort of adjust a title with a weak pun. 

Oh, how we laugh when the presenter reads them out.

With all these things, and in most things in radio, I always ask myself what’s the very best it can be? If you imagine you got the very, very best contribution, what would it achieve?  A limp passing smile at most?

How does that compare with a great exchange? A great conversation? A relatable anecdote? A real life story? A surprise? Something interesting or useful? Or just another great song?

Will anyone really remember this bit of lazy radio in an hour's time?  Ah well, it'll get a few texts, and the jock will judge that means someone's listening.

Maybe I’m wrong. I often am.

Even ‘what’s your favourite biscuit?’ carries more value. At least there’s some nostalgia and relatability. We all know, frankly, that topic goes wild. And it would probably be a good occasional idea if you can find a station it hasn’t been done on recently.

But 'today, we're looking for song titles related to X'? Eugh.

Consultant Dan O'Day used to say "every link must have a value". I’d love someone to explain to me what the value in this is.  Rae Earl suggests these things are social media mechanics which are being erroneously transferred.

Like everything in radio, though, there are exceptions. The best presenters can use a mechanic as dull as the above, or worse, take those callers on-air and turn them to pure magic.  

Just make sure you do – and you’re one of them.

My book 'How to Make Great Radio' is available now

Monday 21 November 2016

What's Your Favourite Personal Radio Story?

Those of us lucky enough to have worked in radio each have colourful memories.  

Some of those stick out more than others.

What's your own personal radiomoment?

Before the memories are forgotten, or before we're run over by the number 23 bus, it's good to capture them.

As #radiomoments followers will know well, I'm interested in this stuff.  First hand accounts are always good to hear.

If you have a tale or two to tell, let me have it.  

  • The station launch you were part of.
  • The station close you witnessed.
  • A snippet of insight into a famous programme.  
  • A dramatic incident. 
  • A first. 
  • A last. 
  • A tale of a well known character.  
  • A technical achievement.
  • A technical mishap.
  • Some background for an incident we know well. 
  • A real success story.
  • Something awful.
  • A controversial decision. 
  • A tale from life back in the day.
  • The most memorable moment of your radio life. 

If I go on any more, this may sound like a desperate plea for calls on a BBC local station, so I shall pause there. But if something not on the list is of interest, that's just fine too

Tell me your story.

Click here to upload a file of you rambling away for a few minutes on your single most memorable radio experience. (If you're on a PC, you can actually just click the 'record' tab and record it 'live' straight to Audioboom)  

Do say who you are, what your connection to the tale was, and the rough date you are talking about.

Don't worry about messing up, I'll chop it around as I get round to using bits of it. 

It won't be published instantly or automatically (despite what it says on the screen) - it just comes to me. 

Any problems, drop me a line and I'll give you an email address to send a file to.

I'll use bits of them as appropriate in #radiomoments weekly reviews and the like - and keep them all safe for posterity.

Do it now, whilst you're in the mood...

Thursday 10 November 2016

A Rose by Any Other Name

The determined blood-red poinsettia on our kitchen windowsill from last Christmas is still thriving. I gather that's unusual. 

Its success owes everything to the pampering from my ever-caring other half, and nothing to me.

Given my lack of horticultural prowess, it can only have been a Day Nurse overdose which drove me to cultivate an elaborate gardening allegory when I was invited to address the BBC local radio managing editors conference this week in a freezing cold Newcastle. 

'Finding Talent', said the Sans-serif heading on the PowerPoint slide. The lovely Gareth Roberts moderated and affable agent Chris North was alongside me.

I see the talent journey beginning with the right seed. A seed which promises something special. You're comforted by the picture on the packet - and you feel it'd really brighten up your garden.

You plant that seed in a small pot and tend to it carefully. 

At just the right stage, you transfer it carefully to a larger pot which you put in the right place.

You then water it. Feed it.  Let it see the sunlight.  Give it time to grow roots. Talk to it.

When it becomes a tad unwieldy, you prop it up with a bamboo stick or two and hope it chooses to lean vaguely in that direction. 

It has the odd season without flowers, but you stick with it.  
If all goes to plan, you end up with a great plant. You didn't design it. It chose its own direction. But you like it. And most people who visit quite like it too. Some don't, but they still never forget the day they walked around your garden.

There is another route.

Take that seed. Bung it straight into the big pot in the wrong soil. Place the pot in the shade. Feed it the wrong food. Forget to water it. Shout at it. As it grows, keep clipping it back so it doesn't risk becoming unmanageable. 

It'll be fine. It might even survive for some time until you find something better. It won't look bad. But no-one who ever comes into your garden will ever notice or remember it.

Finding great talent isn't simply discovery. It's about nurture too.  Every great performer was once not very good. 

As we despair about the lack of distinctive, original radio talent, should we despair too of a lack of expertise in the potting shed?

Monday 7 November 2016

Bye for now, Jimmy Young

Presenters like to sing loudly with their headphones on.  Very few go on to huge chart success.

Jimmy Young did, hitting the 'top-spot' on the NME chart with ‘Unchained Melody’ and ‘the Man from Laramie’; and amassing an impressive string of other 50s favourites in the days when Number Ones sold millions.

He is best-remembered, however, for his radio. Hear, here, this unmistakable presenter, with his trademark Gloucestershire burr and catch phrases. He dominated daytime radio for decades, retiring reluctantly in 2002, aged 81, after 42 years at the BBC.

Jimmy had helped out in the family baking business, indeed he and his dad ended up in court when he was caught driving the family van in his early teens. 

His first love throughout was music. His mother taught him piano and encouraged his voice training. 

After a spell in the forces and as an electrician, a BBC producer spotted him playing piano at a swimming clubJim was duly handed his BBC Bakelite lanyard in August 1949.

His BBC career saw him hosting ‘Housewives Choice’ on the Light Programme for a few weeks in 1960, a successful run on weekend lates - and a few other offerings on Auntie's chill-out service. He was also to record  shows in London for the huge Radio Luxembourg. 

The broadcasting break had come not a moment too soon, as the ballads for which he’d been famous gave way to dirty rock ‘n roll.

Jimmy went on to appear daily on the fledgling BBC Radio 1, by which time he was already older than Moyles was when he left. Jim hosted its mid-morning show, broadcast, at least partly, on both Radio 1 and 2. 

'The JY Prog', as it became, migrated to a new home at Radio 2 in 73, with cautious programme management insisting that no interview begin until 15 minutes of the programme had elapsed. The programme's familiar sig tune, 'TownTalk' by Ken Woodman & His Piccadilly Brass, signaled the start of lunchtimes to 'seven and a half million housewives' in kitchens in the Home Counties.  

The vari-speeded ‘What’s the recipe today Jim’ was as much a part of national radio folklore back then as Ken Bruce’s PopMaster is now. 

Music-magazine programmes can work on radio, but only in the most capable of hands. Mixing real current affairs with jolly pop songs and chit chat is an art – and Jimmy had it - moving effortlessly from Carpenters to Cold War and colanders. The programme quickly acquired a reputation as the one politicians wanted to be on. In February 1975, Margaret Thatcher afforded her first interview as party leader to chirpy Jim.  JY’s show served huge audiences with insight into the issues of the day; albeit in a very different way from his successor, the excellent Jeremy Vine.

Little wonder his longevity in the national limelight and his reputation amongst those who matter earned him recognition at the Palace.  He was awarded the OBE in 1979, the CBE in 1993 and the Knight Bachelor of the Order of the British Empire in the 2002 Queen's New Year's Honours List for his services to broadcasting.

This gentleman broadcaster was a quiet, professional sort, who achieved huge audiences with a consistently successful radio programme for which he will be long-remembered. 

Bye - for now - Jim.

Friday 4 November 2016

Conversations - The Story of a Series

The news of Terry Wogan’s death, so soon after the loss of Ed Stewart, focuses the mind.

Whilst we know that some broadcasters can continue happily on air until their 90s, we have started to wave farewell to some of the great names of our wonderful medium. 

If heaven had its own multiplex, they’d likely now have to consider a celestial Ofcom to work out just how to squeeze on so many incredible programme streams.

I see radio in three eras. The first era being its discovery and dominance before the TV in the corner muscled in; and the third being our current exciting digital era.

Between those lay a fond, busy second era when the medium diversified into pop and pirates, targeted national BBC radio, BBC local radio and ‘’ILR’ commercial radio. A medium of 45s and CDs, FM becoming dominant, disc jockeys becoming celebrities, the birth of 'the brand' and radio becoming a fully-fledged UK advertising medium.
That second era gave rise to some vividly colourful characters both on and off-air.  One looks back and wonders quite how we managed it all. Some people had innate talent which the blossoming medium thankfully amplified; others of us were just in the right place at the right time to enjoy a hell of a ride.

For good and for ill, life in radio will never be quite the same again. Not worse or better – just different. The digital future will see pioneering developments and huge excitement; and those involved will, in time, be able to look back fondly at their own period, as radio found its new place in people’s lives. 

For now, though, I felt a need to bottle the second era and capture the recollections of its characters. For us, and for posterity. This is our legacy.

That thought generated the ‘Conversations’ series. Hour-long programmes in which key characters in a range of radio roles reflect candidly on their own lives. Those tales tell a story of the medium itself through the last sixty or so years.

The subjects gave their time generously - and opened up candidly. Mark Goodier tested his mic for level, but then, as the recording rolled, he wisely threw off his cans to chat.  He knew exactly what I wanted.  The real Mark, talking to a friend.  'Conversations' is about authenticity, not performance.

Few of us have steered through our professional and personal lives without any dark periods.  Tom Edwards painted a fond picture of his pirate and Radio 2 days, but was similarly open about his battle with the booze and how close to death it bought him, before he regained control and lived to share his tale usefully. 

Ralph Bernard is still a busy man, even though he’s no longer running the largest commercial radio group, so I was flattered he gave up his time to chat. Given he’d just bought a new London flat, we sat on white garden furniture in his front room as he reflected. I was amused that he was so keen to make clear some points which he felt the industry at large never quite understood at the time. I'd be just the same.

Helen Boaden was deliciously frank and typically charming, and I was seething when some prat national press journalists took a few words out of context. The fact that they described her ‘speaking on national radio’ suggests they know as little about radio as they do about everything else. She is worth a hundred of them.

Having been one of so many who sent audition tapes in a Jiffy bag to Johnny Beerling, it was delight to spend an afternoon reminiscing in his sunny Yorkshire garden; and Nicky Horne similarly tempted me  into his London garden as we chewed over those early Capital days.

It’s interesting too hearing the same story from different angles. The Classic FM provenance has a number of different flavours.  ‘Conversations’, however, does not set out to challenge. It simply seeks a single perspective honestly expressed, at suitable length, through a single pair of eyes.

How fascinating to  acknowledge that some of these individuals reach back to the medium's very beginnings as they recall listening on a home made crystal set. And what a privilege to chat to 95 year old Teddy Johnson, formerly of Radio Luxembourg. From his nursing home, he recalled how the idea of a top 20 was first floated to him. What? Play all the current songs back to back? Kicking off the show with the last popular? It'll never catch on.

Thanks for the feedback. I’m so touched by the Tweets, DMs and emails. Notes arrive daily, not only from those who know the people or the period involved, but those who say ‘I wasn’t around in those days, and it’s so good to hear what it was like’.  Many busy radio folk saying the series is a welcome distraction from long dull car journeys.

I must thank too the handful of people who’ve offered to ‘do me’. Maybe one day; but I feel my days pale into insignificance as I chat to these titans. 37 episodes are in the can, with many more pencilled in. Enjoy.

Conversations is available on this Audioboom playlist. The programmes also feature in the #radiomoments podcast feed, alongside other material. New episodes appear around fortnightly. Episodes are also aired on Sunday nights at 10pm on in-Radio, and repeated through the week.

Stewart Francis
Giles Squire
Paul Brown
Colin Berry
Mark Goodier 
Johnnie Walker
Helen Boaden 
Quentin Howard 
Dirk Anthony
Nicky Horne
Jeremy Vine
Martin Campbell
Gillian Reynolds
Tom Edwards
Peter Levy
Teddy Johnson
Matthew Bannister
Chris Carnegy
Bob Hermon
Alice Arnold
Tony Prince
Johnny Beerling
Steve Allen
Michael Betton
Roger Mosey
Tim Blackmore
Tom Ross
David Hamilton
Roger Day
John Myers
Ian Rufus
Denis McCarthy (*special)
Trevor Dann
Ralph Bernard
Steve England
Phil Riley
John Evington
Ron Coles

Monday 10 October 2016

Stop Press!

"Next on LBC, we'll take a thorough look at what's in the BBC 5 Live 0800 bulletin this morning'." 

Said no-one ever.

It's certainly not what you'd hear Nick Ferrari say.  Not least because his impressive tabloid gut means he instinctively teases much better than that. 

But, more importantly, he wouldn't say it as I suspect any stories worth mentioning would have been included in his own programme or bulletins; and, anyway, why would he wish to promote another news supplier without good cause?

Why does it happen all the time with press, though? Huge TV and radio stations allot chunks of their output to 'looking at the papers'. 

We broadcasters seem obsessed with chatting endlessly about what another media has chosen to include. Regardless of the fact that the broadcast programme is far more up to date than the press we are chatting deferentially about.

Maybe it's just a peculiar tradition. In my early days on-air in the '80s, disk-jockeys pored over the Sun for a quick funny to slot in between the Dooleys and Dollar. Mind you, there was little other material to inspire us, and no Internet or social media to point us to anything else. 

Back then, and to this day, it infuriates radio station news editors when presenters merrily read out a press headline in a 'wow look at this' tone of voice, when it was a story carried in the station's own bulletins the day before. It's as if it has to appear in the Mail before it becomes real news.

I'll leave others to write of the serious risks of presenters quoting a dodgy newspaper front page headline on-air, with neither the comfort of the caveats in the remainder of the article - nor News International's legal insurance policy. 

To this day, presenters lean on these organs, even though their relevance and importance has long been eroded. Would Theresa May really care nowadays if the Sun happened to picture her face in a lightbulb on the eve of the Election?

TV news channels import weighty panels of chirpy experts to review what's been written about a few hours ago, and won't be seen by anyone until the following day. I don't begrudge any of my fellow broadcasters the dime, and I'd do it, if asked, frankly, but I do wonder what's driving these daily rituals?

It wouldn't be so bad if broadcasters did 'review' the publications, but they don't. They just talk about the stories.  And, as every good broadcaster knows, you don't actually need an in-line like ''s something interesting in the newspapers', to justify talking about an interesting thing. 

It's not as if the press write much about us in exchange, really. Their coverage appears to extend only to miserable industry controversy or an arty Radio 4 play. 

Yes, there are times when the press create some original journalism which becomes a story which lives in the hearts of our listeners. I don't begrudge them recognition for that, and those topics, rightly, are echoed in other media, just as a great line from a live LBC broadcast is PRed impressively and magnified merrily by other media. That's not the same thing as 'let's sit down for no apparent reason and talk about someone else's news agenda'.

We don't routinely talk about what's hot on Twitter, or infrequently what's in the Huffington Post. We do when it's peculiarly and specifically relevant. The World has moved on since this newspaper reviewing fetish began. 

Are we distorting the influence of scantily-regulated press by continuing to talk about what they've chosen to run?  Do we have a vested interest in seeing that all these merry press titles survive a changing age? What would happen if we stopped chatting randomly about them?

I have a book, 'How to Make Great Radio' which no newspaper has ever reviewed. Feel free to buy it.

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