 |  |  |  |  |
the
current
Monday
Report
below!
This week's report by Bruce Hodder of Suffolk Punch
ABANDONED BY AUNTIE:
THE BBC, THE BRITISH & THE
CREATIVE UNDERGROUND
Part One: THE BBC AND THE LICENCE FEE
The BBC is a state funded organisation. Some people would say
an overhang from a time before the market ruled everything in
our lives. And some, me included, would say that's not
necessarily a bad thing. It doesn't have to bend to the will of
advertisers. It doesn't have to compete in a ruthless, ratings-
dominated, and since the advent of satellite tv, hopelessly over-
saturated marketplace. They've got £131.50 coming in free from
every home in the country to pay for whatever they decide to do.
And you don't have much of a choice about whether or not you
pay it. But more about that later.
And yet, they do have to compete, or they try. Populist
programming and high ratings are seen by the industry, and
media commentators, as the measure of the BBC's relevance to
contemporary life, and if they can't prove their relevance, then
the unspoken agreement has it that the Government will struggle
to sell the continuation of the licence fee to the British public. It
does, after all, go up every year as the BBC requests more and
more money to finance its vast operation.
When the BBC was established several decades ago in a
completely different world--back when the news was read by
people in evening dress and ball gowns--the original mission
statement was that "to entertain, educate and inform" (or words
to that effect). It had an element of social responsibility to it that
was simultaneously socialistic, and a bit patronising. But if you're
going to put a gun to someone's head and take over a hundred
quid a year from them--or whatever the equivalent was in the
1930s--to make your tv programmes, you might as well have the
decency to give something back.
Of course, the BBC don't actually threaten to kill you if you
don't give them the money. But they can make your life difficult.
I know, because two years ago I tried it. I had just moved out of a
house I shared with a woman who was obsessed with television.
She had it on whenever she was in the house, whenever she was
awake, whether she was in the lounge where we had the tv or not,
and by the time I left her I was sick of it. So I thought I would go
without when I moved here to my haunted cottage. I didn't have a
television anyway, and I couldn't afford to buy one, not just for
the news programmes and the football, which were the only
things I watched. It's not like there are any decent arts
programmes on. But more about that later too.
After I'd been in the new house a few months TV Licensing
contacted me for unpaid monthly contributions towards my
licence fee. The woman I was living with hadn't picked up the
payments when I left, even though I'd cancelled my direct debit
at the bank, so there were months of tv watching to pay for that I
hadn't even enjoyed personally. I told them it was her debt, but
she disputed it. So after wrangling via snail mail for a while, I
had to send them a cheque. There was no way out of it other than
legal action, and I couldn't afford a lawyer the best day I ever
lived.
Once that was settled TV Licensing wrote again telling me I had
to pay for my license at the new property. I told them I didn't
watch television. They wrote back telling me that if that was the
case I would have to submit to an inspection of my property by
one of their agents.
I was shocked, and exasperated. All this for television, which I
have always (perhaps a bit snobbishly), considered the lowest
medium of them all for entertainment, education OR
information? And did anybody have the right to come into my
house if I didn't want them to, other than with the extra impetus
of a warrant from the court? Plus an inspection would have been
pretty awkward, as I'd acquired two televisions since my first
dealings with the licensing folks. I was planning to sell them on at
a profit, but no snoop looking for tv cheats was going to believe
that.
I checked out their right to enter my house with the Citizens
Advice Bureau and found out that yes, they could come in.
Equally, I could refuse them entry, but that would only
contribute to the appearance of my guilt and they might very
well come back at me with a court summons. Nobody I asked was
really sure. There aren't many people in Britain who've ever
tested it.
It was at this point that I gave in and bought a license. Or at
least, set up for a chunk of my money to be taken out of my bank
every month to make up, over a year, the sizeable licence fee. A
strange move when I could have just allowed the inspection to go
ahead? Well, maybe, but the sanctity of my property had become
the point for me by then, and though I had submitted to a large
defeat to gain a small victory, I was damned if I would let one of
them through my door when I didn't want them in here. Then,
the day my licence arrived through my door, I wrote to my
Member of Parliament telling him I thought it was time we got
rid of the fee and made the BBC compete in the marketplace like
a twenty-first century organisation.
"The majority of constituents support the continuation of the
licence fee," my M.P. wrote back, no doubt after going from door
to door and asking everybody.
Coming next Monday: Part Two of this report:
THE BBC AND THE UNDERGROUND...
===============================================
Bruce Hodder can be found online at Suffolk Punch.
===============================================
GO HERE TO ENTER THE MONDAY REPORT BOX.
