This the accompanying article to my contribution to this week’s edition of The Pod Delusion. Parts of it are based on a previous article, What is STV playing at?

You can listen to the full podcast below.

In a recent episode of The Pod Delusion, Mark Thompson spoke about the good old days when ITV was still a federation of regional television stations. He outlined how, in England and Wales over the past ten or fifteen years, ITV’s regional diversity has given way to a bland umbrella brand.

But not all of the nooks on the ITV network have succumbed to the juggernaut. Four of the ITV regions are still independently owned, and three avoid using the ITV brand. In the Channel Islands, Channel Television still owns the franchise, even though it uses ITV1 branding. But in Northern Ireland, viewers are greeted by idents for UTV. And where I live, in Scotland, the two ITV regions operate as STV.

I can say with authority, given that I live here, that the reality of regional broadcasting on Channel 3 is not quite as rosy as Mark Thompson would like to remember. It certainly is not as quaint and charming as the ITV we remember from our youth — and, incidentally, it was delightful to hear the idents and jingles during Mark’s report.

Sadly, STV is a bit of a basket case. Apparently strapped for cash, for the past year or two it has been embroiled in a dispute with ITV plc that has only served to disadvantage viewers. ITV is trying to gain money that has been allegedly been owed by STV for over ten years. Meanwhile, STV is dropping as many ITV programmes as it can get away with in an apparent attempt to stop owing any more money.

This means that many of the ITV network’s most popular drama programmes have been dropped by STV. This has left Scottish viewers with no options if they want to watch some of the best British commercial television programmes.

Publicly, STV say this is all a brave stance for regional broadcasting in Scotland. That does not really explain why most of the replacements have been cheap imports, films and repeats. As amusing as South Park may be, it is not exactly an adequate replacement for the likes of Kingdom. Incidentally, South Park is seemingly supposed to count as Scottish programming because, in the words of STV director of broadcast services Bobby Hain, it is “mischievous and cheeky… just like the Scottish people.”

Bobby Hain often singles out Al Murray for particular criticism. He reckons that Scots cannot relate to a comedy cockney landlord, forgetting that there is in fact nothing Scots enjoy more than laughing at English stereotypes.

This strategy certainly is not being done for the benefit of the Scottish people. We can tell this because the ratings have largely fallen through the floor. Infamously, STV once ditched Agatha Christie’s Marple in favour of the film Blue Crush — because crap surfing movies set in Hawaii are really Scottish, right? It was a disaster for STV. You could almost have squeezed the viewers into a large football stadium. With just 6% of Scottish television viewers watching it, this made it the least watched of the five main channels in Scotland.

STV have recently broadcast Fitz, the woeful 1990s American remake of Cracker. Presumably they have done this because it is supposed to count as Scottish, despite the fact that it is American. In fact, Fitz more accurately describes what STV viewers go through when they realise that their favourite programme has been replaced by a low budget michty-me, jings, crivvens and help ma boab bag of shite.

Because when STV are showing “regional” programming, it is a parochial embarrassment. One of the programmes it’s pushing most is The Hour. Imagine a cross between The One Show and Live From Studio Five, with a twentieth of the budget and presented from a shed. That barely describes the horror.

In the evenings, STV broadcasts STV Casino. This is the sort of gambling programme I railed against in a previous edition of The Pod Delusion.

More ambitiously, STV sought to find out the Greatest Scot. Among the nominees for the title was John Logie Baird, the inventor of the television. What Logie Baird can’t have foreseen was that his compatriots would be unable to watch anything decent on it.

Soon enough, STV will run out of “Scottish” topics to make programmes about. What next? The History of the Word ‘Outwith‘? Barry Ferguson’s Greatest V-Signs? Susan Boyle’s Ten Favourite Ditches?

Maybe there will be a celebration of the Scots language and / or dialect, with a version of Countdown played in the Scots tongue. Sadly, the only exciting action would be a Buckfast-fuelled brawl surrounding the precise spelling of words like ‘airse’ (‘erse’?) and ‘bawbag’ (‘ba’bag’?).

This new found love for “local” programming really is rich coming from STV. This is a station that, just a few years ago, would do anything to avoid showing locally produced programmes. It transparently sought to meet its quota of regional programmes with cynical late-night repeats of Weir’s Way and extra editions of Scotland Today Interpreted For The Deaf.

This all makes me wonder just what the ‘S’ in STV stands for. Is it ‘Scottish’? Or is it ‘stultifying’? ‘Stupid’? ‘Sellotape’? In fact, I think it’s probably ‘shite’.

Mark Thompson’s idea is a nice one, but is based on a rose-tinted view rather than the reality we Scots have to live with just now. It is true that something needs to change in order for ITV to survive. But the solution to that is surely obvious when you think about it — they should bring back Blockbusters.

Fair fa’ your honest, sonsie face, Great chieftain o’ the Puddin-race! Aboon them a’ ye tak your place, Painch, tripe, or thairm: Weel are ye wordy of a grace As lang’s my arm.

Which I assume is some Burns. I recognise the second line, but none of the rest. Which probably proves something about how much of a philistine or traitor I am. But I don’t care.

Anyway, it just so happens that last night I went on one of my (very) occasional trips to the Scots Wikipedia.

Guid tae see ye at the Scots Wikipædia, the first encyclopædia in the Scots leid!

Noble though it may be, it does make me giggle a little bit whenever I read these attempts to take what is essentially slang very seriously. I must try and pick up some of those weighty documents that the Scottish Parliament apparently publishes in Scots. It would make some of those train journeys pass by quicker.

For the most part, English Wikipedia is written in a very formal manner. Scots Wikipedia is like reading Oor Wullie explain quadratic calculations. Here, for instance, is part of the article on naitural philosophy:

Pheesicists studies a braid reenge o pheesical phenomenae, frae the sub-nuclear pairticles that maks up aw ordinar maiter (pairticle pheesics) tae the maiteral Universe as a hail (cosmologie).

I also like this message that appears at the top of some pages (such as this one about Commissioners tae the Scots Pairlament):

The “Scots” that wis uised in this airticle wisna written by a native speaker. Gin ye can, please sort it.

I guess the slightly slap-dash, antiquated nature of the language part of the charm for some people. One of my maths teachers used to drop in loads of baffling slang words which were presumably meant to be Scots, but I’m certain she just made them up on the spot.

I also know that, for instance, Kirkcaldy has several different spellings in Scots. The Scots Wikipedia article spells it Kirkcaudy, which is redirected from Kirkcawddy — but, of course, you and I know it as Kirkcaldy!

The famous (in Kirkcaldy) poem, ‘The Boy in the Train‘ uses a yet another different spelling of Kirkcaldy (the collogue page at Wikipedia touches on this).

When the train station was rebuilt in the early 1990s the whole waiting area was decked out in linoleum — Kirkcaldy’s greatest export, and the cause of that famous “queer-like smell”. The smell can linger in the east of the town, particularly when it’s raining. It’s the kind of smell that, a bit like coffee, is really foul when you are a child but eventually you become fond of it as you grow older. I imagine if I ever move out of Kirkcaldy I’ll want to occasionally visit to catch the smell again.

In the linoleum-covered waiting area of the train station, the poem that makes reference to this smell takes pride of place above the stairs. Appropriately enough, the poem itself is cut in linoleum as well. I stand in the waiting area and try to decipher the poem when it is raining and I can’t stand outside on the platform. It seems as though when it’s raining in Kirkcaldy you just can’t escape linoleum!

From my memory, the version of the poem hanging on the wall in the station uses more than one different spelling of Kirkcaldy, but I could be wrong. I’ll have to take a look at it tomorrow. But it does seem as though Mary Campbell-Smith, judging by the rhymes she tried to pull off, thought that Kirkcaldy was pronounced “Kirkcaddy”. I suppose it’s an improvement on many non-natives’ attempts to pronounce the ‘l’ which is actually silent.

Best just to stick to ‘The Lang Toun’ really…

Other interesting Wikipedia projects

• Kernewek, currently standing at 1,233 articles.
• Anglo-Saxon, with 744 articles.
• The inevitable Klingon, with a surprisingly low 62 articles.
• Full list of Wikipedias