Media bits

When I was at university, Private Eye had a column called Pseuds' Corner.  It might have still.  Anyway, I came across an item for it today.  It's part of a review of recommended wines.  'There is pinotage and pinotage.  This is the latter....'  (Jane MacQuitty, The Times)


A couple of days ago I received my long-awaited reply from the BBC.  It came of course not from the Director General, Mr Thompson, to whom I'd written.  'As you will appreciate...' he receives more correspondence than he can deal with personally, so the letter came from Ms Bower of BBC Complaints in Glasgow.  I wasn't so much complaining as observing.  I imagine the four pages were a fairly standard response to complaints about bias about assisted suicide.  It basically chronicled the balance of viewpoints presented in news coverage of related items - which wasn't my concern.  My point was about the power and balance of story, not about arguments.  I actually said that I thought the BBC did balance comment well.  It seemed as if my letter hadn't been read properly, just scanned and put in the 'anti' pile.  I was disappointed, and reminded of Hamlet's, 'Methinks the lady doth protest too much.'


This was my letter:

'Dear Mr Thompson

'Without doubt assisted dying is among the most important issues in the news at the moment.  I am concerned that the BBC’s presentation particularly of ‘news items’ connected with this issue does not appear to be even-handed.

'I am sure that everyone from management to producers and presenters is acutely conscious of trying to balance opposing views in the debate.  Clearly this is most easily and successfully achieved in studio discussions, where I think presenters do conceal their own views professionally.  However, I have two areas of concern. 

'The first is that the news agenda seems largely driven by stories of individuals who favour assisted suicide, such as Edward Downes, Debbie Purdy, Kay Gilderdale, Terry Pratchett and Ray Gosling.  Having Motor Neurone Disease myself, I have wrestled with the conundrum of why these are so much more newsworthy than the thousands with disabling and terminal conditions who choose to live their lives with trust in their doctors’ professional skill.  Is it because they are being fed to the media by particular lobby groups?  The impression given by highlighting these exceptional cases is that we are queuing up for physicians to assist us terminate our lives on demand, which is not true.  I understand that the ‘everyday’ is not news, and that the struggle to survive does not make dramatic headlines - and yet it is remarkable and should enter the public arena. Otherwise a skewed picture of reality is being presented.

'And here I come to my second area of concern.  Balance is not achieved by telling a story and merely getting people with opposing views to comment on it.  For most of us, story itself  has an emotive power which argument doesn’t carry.  That means that true balance is achieved by balancing stories as well as debate, and I don’t think I’ve seen or heard a news-story with an ‘I’ve decided to live’ slant in the past year - with the exception of the short item on Alison Davis on Newsnight last night (and something similar on The One Show last year) as a response to two stories on the other side.  Even that in terms of time was uneven.  Certainly it was nothing comparable to the ‘documentary’ on Kay Gilderdale on Panorama a couple of weeks previously.  There are stories of disabled or terminally ill people who have either never wanted to die, or who once wanted assisted suicide but now no longer do, which deserve proper airtime, such as Alison’s, or Matt Hampson and Bryan Davies, the paralysed rugby players, or Michelle Wheatley with locked-in syndrome, and equally of partners and carers who have nursed sufferers to the very end.  Many of them would not wish to be campaigners, but their stories deserve to be told to the nation - partly for their own sake and also for the sake of a true representation of the way things really are.

'At the moment the assumption underlying editorial decisions seems to be that, if allowed, people would rather cease to be a burden and be helped to die than suffer pain and dependency and live.  It’s a reasonable position for someone to hold, but not the neutral one which one would expect of the BBC.  At a time like this and in a matter of such moment for us all, isn’t it vital that our public service broadcaster is, and is seen to be,  even-handed in its presentation of facts as well as opinion and to be vigilant lest a subconscious agenda dictates policy?

Yours sincerely'


I'll refrain from boring you with the long reply as well.

A short diversion

Just back from 26 hours with Jane's parents down in Devon - another very mellow time, helped by beautiful sunshine.

Her mother wrote and illustrated a multitude of children's stories (published by Medici), meticulously researched even as far as flying in a Tiger Moth biplane for Freddie in Flight which has an aerial view of our old home in Stanford...  Almost all of them feature animals.  She's become a miniaturist of great skill.  Her great grandchildren enjoy listening to the stories, and of course now feature in her miniatures!

We left The Italian Chapel which I've mentioned before for Jane's father to read.  You may recall it's the story of the Italian prisoners of war on the Orkneys who had to assist in constructing the Churchill barriers joining the islands together to protect the Atlantic fleet from German submarine attacks; they're still in place today, as is the beautiful chapel they created out of two nissen huts.  As I said before the book is a really good read; it's particularly moving because it's largely true, but more because it shows how good and beautiful things can come out of the most unpromising of circumstances - including friendship between enemies.  Anyway, we thought he would enjoy it; and it turned out that the first voyage he had made after signing up in the Navy in the 2nd World War was in the brand new HMS Paladin from the Clyde to Scapa Flow where the fleet was based in the Orkneys.  They hit the most horrendous storm on the way.  The destroyer lost various bits on the way, and the seaman were all dreadfully sick...!

My in-laws live on the Jurassic coast of Devon in a lovely chalet bungalow overlooking the valley.  It's well nigh perfect - except the path to the front door is steep and long.  Well, at least it feels like that to me.  One day, presumably, I won't be able to make the slow ascent, but I did it again on Tuesday between Jane and my stick.  I still feel a sense of achievement.  Going down, I submit to the wheelchair.  It's safer.  At least in the house I don't have to go up the stairs to the spare bedroom, because those two generous octogenarians give up their ground-floor room for us.  You can see they're not the in-laws of popular myth!  They've acquired a tv for the first time since I've known them, and I spent a couple of happy hours watching the old BBC production of Barchester Towers with the odious Mr Slope and the good Mr Harding.  I reckon there are similarities between the latter and my father in law.

On the way back we'd learned our lesson on the A303, which we'd discovered on our way down was entirely blocked at Mere.  They didn't give sufficient warning for you to take an alternative route, and so you were forced to take the official diversion through Shaftesbury.  Returning we took our own diversion on familiar roads round Stourhead and saved 20-30 minutes.  As a result the dog didn't have to wait too long for her supper.

Multi-faceted love

What a good weekend!  Mellow, I'd call it.  First thing Saturday our friends Tony and Jimmy who fitted our new kitchen last year came round to advise us about our misted up double-glazed window panes and some other ideas I've had about tidying up the house.  It's nice to have people you trust.  Then the family from Manchester arrived and settled in, followed by Bryan from Bristol; by Sunday lunch all the family had arrived.  Yes!!  I got them practising hauling me to my feet so that Jane doesn't always have to do it. We always get a Saturday paper when they're here.  This week it was The Times, and unusually it had an excellent article by Simon Barnes, their football correspondent who does Nature Notes as well, about his son Eddie aged 5 who has Down's Syndrome.  It's called something like, 'My Life with a tiger cub'.  I've quoted from it below, and put the link up on the list.

All good things have to come to an end of course, and now they've all gone back to their week's work.  It was a sort of early Mothering Sunday, because sadly next Sunday clashes with the start of the F1 Grand Prix season - and we have our priorities, you know - only joking!  

We stayed in to watch 'Songs of Praise', which was about prayer.  Although the music had reverted a bit to the all-in-black dull concert style, the interviews were above averagely good.  I'd been sounded out about the programme, but I have to say three of the interviews - with Rowan Williams, Desmond Tutu and Jane Grayshon - were all outstanding.  I don't always feel that our Aled is really engaged with the subject but this time was an exception.  Archbishop Tutu talked about prayer in terms of a relationship of love.  'It sounds almost like marriage,' said Aled, 'for better for worse, in sickness and in health.'  To which Tutu gave one of his chuckles in agreement.   Jane Grayshon has had acute chronic pain (which is treated in a hospice) for 35 years, and she made no bones about how difficult it was.  'Is it hell on earth?'  'Yes.'  I can't imagine living continuously with acute pain.  It must be the worst thing.  A good programme.

Later that evening I read Simon Barnes' article.  It is full of both parents' love for their son.  He asked a question our society needs reminding of, especially these days when some are being told they are useless 'burdens' on society:

'What is Eddie for? A question worth asking, I think. The Nazis sent people with Down’s to the ovens, because they polluted the purity of the race. And before we shudder at such barbarity, we should remember that most women pregnant with a baby with Down’s syndrome choose to abort. It’s clear that many people believe that a child with Down’s has no point: that such a being is extraneous to human needs, a mere burden on society and, in particular, on the parents. Best get rid of them.

'The reality of Eddie’s life contradicts all that. At school, he is held very dear. The headmistress has said that her school is a better place for his presence: because Eddie is there, the school’s small society has become more caring, more gentle, more at ease with itself. At the end of the last school year, Eddie won the Peace Prize, voted for annually by the entire class. The prize is given to the kindest, most generous and most helpful child....'

He talks about people's reaction to Eddie in public places - and it is universally positive. But he asks:

'Is that enough, though? Shouldn’t an individual contribute something to society? Eddie’s function is to be loved, and to love in return. Perhaps that is everybody’s ultimate function. Eddie enriches the lives of his family and enriches the lives of those he comes into contact with outside. That seems to me to be a life right on the cutting edge of usefulness.'

Desert Island Discs

I sometimes listen to the old favourite radio programme, Desert Island Discs.  But I don't think I've heard a better one than today's.  I mentioned the castaway a couple of weeks ago; she was the highlight of the Valentine's Day Songs of Praise, the actress, June Simpson (Peggy Woooley of 'The Archers').  She's an incredible 90 year-old - still broadcasting.  I mentioned the fact that her radio persona echoes her own experience of having had a husband who developed dementia.  That isn't the only tough experience of her life - including an invalid mother and a son who died tragically.  And yet she is the most delightful and positive person imaginable.  When you listen to it, make sure you listen to the end and her final choice of disc.  It is a wonderful statement of faith.

Today's been fine and so we went out - twice!  I suppose you could say we were celebrating the publisher's initial welcome of Jozanne's and my book - which we're excited about.  This weekend the family are going to be here.  We love these times.  They are such fun and great people.

Unsprung

Sadly, spring seems to have had a relapse today.  East wind, and grey clouds.  Oh well, such is the English weather - which, I gather, from  Radio 5 Live, some would consider unpatriotic and others endearingly self-deprecating.

I need to make an apology about 'media bias'.  My friend Richard pointed out that the Stephen Nolan programme on Sunday had an impressive interview with Elizabeth Shepherd whose son is disabled: http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b00r35m6#synopsis.  It was at midnight, but credit where it's due.  

Signs of spring

There was frost on the ground first thing, but at this moment, I'm sitting in the conservatory, looking out at Jess the dog lying on the patio, listening to the sounds of urban traffic rumbling by.  Sparrows, starlings and a robin are making their noises, AND ... a red admiral is resting on the kitchen window-sill having been doing a tour of the garden.

Not much nectar available at the moment, I'm afraid, just a few winter pansies and some primulas.  It must have come out of hibernation, I reckon, and must be a toughie to have survived our 'coldest winter for thirty years'.  Most, though not all, of our red admirals are summer migrants, arriving in May and June, and they like brambles, ivy and buddleia for their nectar, I see, while their caterpillars eat nettles, which is why you should leave some in your garden....  Normally the first butterflies of the spring are yellow brimstones, those sulphur yellow ones with rounded wings, but they're a good deal later.  Still, 2nd March, the first butterfly of the year: is Spring sprung at last?

Dawn twitterings

Romeo is back at it in the earliest hours - but someone else has taken over two hours later: Benedict the blackbird starts at 4.30 am.  Even that's a bit early for the dawn chorus, a good hour or so before it's beginning to get light.  Funnily enough, Lucy Winkett told me something about this I didn't know before.  Not only are birds singing at night because of the light pollution, but in cities they're also affected by noise pollution.  Scientists have found that they sing higher, with less variation, and faster, and more loudly than their cousins in nearby forests.  As Ms Winkett says, what appears to happening is that they're singing like this and in the dark 'in order to make themselves heard over the human noise of low-pitched, monotonous, relentless sound.  Night has become the new day; the urban world is inside out.'  I suppose here we're on the fringe of the urban world, in English suburbia.

You can tell that Canon Winkett is the exception to the old joke about can(n)ons: 'The bigger the gun, the bigger the bore.'

We had lunch yesterday with my distinguished brother David (now why he's never been made a bishop, let alone a canon, I fail to understand) and his wife Clare.  He's the one who's just written the book you really need to read when P Pulman tries to fantasise about Paul and Jesus.  This morning she sent us a diverting link of silent monks singing the Hallelujah Chorus... we enjoyed it! ( http://charliephillips.net/videos/theater-7/silent-monks-singing-halleluia.html )