Television
Silent majority
Richard Ingrams
C ometimes I feel like erecting No Tres- 1...,passing signs round my column to stop people poaching on my territory. The Poet Kavanagh was the latest to fire off at my preserved game, the BBC, from the safety of his neighbouring plot. Actually, so long as he does not mind me bursting into nature notes from time to time, I have no objec- tion to the Poet getting in on the act. It only goes to show that I am not the only one who is thoroughly disgruntled by the way the BBC has been going on in recent months. I find, in fact, that many of those I meet have been especially distressed by The Thornbirds, not only by the programme itself but the way in which the BBC has advertised it and also shunted round Panorama and the Nine O'Clock News in order to accommodate it. The episode seems to have brought home to people more than anything else the way in which the BBC has betrayed its ancient calling and now stands for nothing very much at all except trying to compete for viewers with ITV.
But there are still some — the Poet and myself, for example — who maintain a kind
of nostalgic respect for the old idea of the BBC that was, and who are capable of be- ing mildly shocked when we see Di- Kildare dressed up as a cardinal on the cover of Radio Times. But I think we have to realise now that we are in a minority. The public have come to accept the fact that there aren't many standards left, either at the BBC or anywhere else. No one minds much if Penguin Books, for example — another once great bastion of our culture — now spends £50,000 promoting a worthless book like Lace. Equally, no one minds about the way that Rupert Murdoch and his minions are quietly demolishing what used to be good newspapers, the Times and the Sunday Times. We have come to accept that all we can expect from these people is tripe.
I was reminded of this watching Mrs Thatcher preforming in her specially writ- ten episode of Yes Minister after presenting the programme with an award on behalf of Mrs Whitehouse's VALA organisation. A few years ago the idea of the Prime Minister lining up with Mrs Whitehouse would have provoked howls of outrage and derision, but nowadays no one seems to mind. Is this, as some left-wing playwrights like to think, because Mrs Whitehouse has in some way won the battle for censorship on the air? On the contrary. The reason why Mrs Whitehouse has become generally an accep- table figure, and why the BBC are quite happy to stand up and receive her awards is because she has been by and large ineffec- tual in her efforts.
You have only to watch Did You See . .? to get a sample of the kind of stuff that is now run of the mill. This week: a bad-taste send-up of the Annunciation, and a smiling endorsement from Ludovic Kennedy of Paul McCartney's defence of pot-smoking, both of which would a few years ago have resulted in a storm of protest. But today not even Mrs Whitehouse has anything to say. (For the record, and the benefit of Ludo and any other ageing trendies inclined to ac- cept McCartney's view that pot is com- paratively harmless, a 15-year research pro- ject by the United Nations into marijuana abuse concluded last year that the drug can 'completely change the personality and lifestyle of the user ... impair short-term memory and learning, male fertility, female ovulation, pre-natal development, the im- mune system and the heart and lungs'.) The only bright spark in the week has been the return of David Attenborough with another massive series called The Planet Earth (BBCI). I have a slight sense of déjà vu every time Attenborough hoves onto the screen clutching fossils and bits of rocks, but no matter. It always does one good to be reminded by this enthusiastic voyager of the extraordinary nature of the physical world. In his opening episode Attenborough showed us some wonderful film of volcanos and lava, all of which looked very fine on my new colour set. It almost made up for the blood and ham- burgers.
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