Archive: Today programme

John Humphrys sees himself as a defender of the use of proper English. But I surely can’t be the only one to notice that he has a remarkable tendency to drop the use of full sentences altogether when he is presenting the Today programme? It seems particularly bad when he is introducing the sport.

“Seven twenty seven Rob sport.”

The amazing this is that you know exactly what he means, which I guess is the sign of a great broadcaster. But ever since I first noticed it, it has stuck out to me every single time.

There’s been a lot of chat recently about whether blogging is dead, sparked by this article in Wired by Paul Boutin. It’s easy to scoff at the article, and the idea that blogging is dead is obviously nonsense. But I doubt the claim would have got so much attention if there wasn’t a bit of truth in it.

I’m not sure that much of what Paul Boutin says is new though. The first time I heard about the article was through Mike Power who added:

…most people under 20 wouldn’t touch blogging with a barge pole, seeing it as old-fashioned and nerdy.

That’s an interesting point. A lot of outsiders tend to think of blogging and the like as something that young people do. But I remember a few years ago a survey finding that the average age of readers of political blogs in the UK is around 40. That might be younger than, say, the average age of readers of The Telegraph, but we’re not talking about the cast of Skins here.

Before that, I always wondered why there weren’t more people my age blogging. I started blogging six years ago when I was 16, but I am an outlier. I can’t think of anyone else who has been blogging for that long from such a young age (though no doubt there are some). I struggle even to think of many bloggers who are my age or younger full stop. There are a few that I know of, but I could probably count them on one hand.

This links neatly in with one of Paul Boutin’s points though. Blogging is being overtaken by social networking sites like Facebook. It’s worth remembering why I started blogging. It is simple: I was bored. My first post was written on a cold, boring night in the middle of the Christmas school holiday.

Moreover, if I had an aim with my blog, it was as a really easy way to reach a wide variety of friends in a really efficient way. At first I was peeved when I realised that my friends couldn’t be bothered reading my blog. What I had forgotten was that, while updating a blog was efficient for me, it was wildly inefficient to get all of my friends to keep on visiting my blog all the time.

Social networking sites fix that problem by giving everyone a central space to share their thoughts and news. No doubt if sites like Bebo and Facebook were around back then, I wouldn’t have started a blog. Indeed, I originally wanted to set up a LiveJournal rather than a blog, but back then you had to pay for a LiveJournal account, so I set up with Blogger instead.

The only reason I stuck with blogging was through the quite accidental discovery that, while my friends were seemingly uninterested in what I had to say, complete strangers would regularly visit to see what I was thinking. That amazing fact is what keeps me going as a blogger, despite some pretty dry patches over the years.

And I’m lucky to have discovered that. Blogging has given me plenty of opportunities that I would never have had were I a simple Facebook user. Undoubtedly my life has been enriched by blogging as it has furnished me with an armful of skills. A 16-year-old Duncan Stephen today would almost certainly not start blogging — but he’d be worse off for it.

But it is important for blogging that the landscape has changed over the past few years. Before 2004, the buzzword was blogging, pretty much exclusively so. Today you can add podcasts, social networks, Flickr, YouTube, wikis, microblogging, social bookmarking, tumblelogging and an increasing list of tools that are all lumped together under the “web 2.0″ umbrella. And when the landscape changes, blogging will inevitably have to evolve. As Rory Cellan Jones says, “its nature is changing.”

The evolution of blogging is nothing new though. By most accounts, blogging is now over ten years old, easily out-dating the web 2.0 phenomenon. The man who is said to have coined the word weblog, Jorn Barger, intended it to mean “logging the web”. That makes tumblelogging or linklogging services such as Delicious a much closer relative to the earliest blogs than what are today known as blogs.

Similarly, during a middle period beginning at the start of this decade, blogging was taken broadly to mean an online journal or a diary, often with very personal posts. Today, that would be seen as quite odd, since social networking sites such as Facebook are a much more appropriate, private place to talk about your personal life. It might seem inappropriate that people blogged so much about personal issues, but prior to the likes of Facebook, people had no choice.

Meanwhile, the stereotypical blogger writing about what he had for breakfast has now moved wholesale over to Twitter, a more relaxed place where there is no stigma to writing banal, inconsequential nonsense. Mind you, the advent of Qwitter may change that!

Over the years, my blog has evolved from being somewhere where I would (quite inadvisedly, and sometimes shamefully) leave personal rants, or write about what I had for breakfast, to a place where I would take part in conversations about current issues. Instead of writing a few short and snappy posts per day, this blog now more-or-less exclusively contains posts around 1,000+ words long typically published several days apart. Whereas a few years ago I may have written a stream of consciousness, today I might spend a few days (or even a few months!) mulling over a subject before writing it down. Places like Flickr and Twitter certainly wouldn’t allow me to do that, as Paul Stamatiou points out.

Instead of being a one-stop-shop for all things me, my blog is now just one part of a huge range of online activities. How all of these activities relate to each other and what I should publicise where is a problem that I still grapple with, and I probably won’t stop grappling with it any time soon. (I’ve currently settled on gathering everything in a ‘sidebar’ on the home page.)

A lot of blogs have undergone a similar transformation over the years. It’s notable how many people are now relatively quiet on their blogs, but are still updating Twitter regularly. As if to illustrate that, an item on the Today programme this morning was meant to discuss the death of blogging but ended up dwelling more on the popularity of Twitter.

But saying today that this shift to other services like Twitter is a sign that blogging is dead is just as daft as saying in 2004 that blogging threatened the death of the mainstream media. It would be deeply ironic if the once vibrant and hip blogging scene were to itself become threatened by new technology. But it won’t. The world evolves and blogging simply has to evolve with it, just as the mainstream media evolved with the advent of blogging. Rather than dying, blogging is maturing, as Gary Andrews notes.

I think Paul Boutin makes some really good points, but he misses the point a few times. Trolls and flamers in comments are a well-known problem. But let’s face it, that is hardly confined to blogging. That is a problem with the internet in general.

Meanwhile, the point about most bloggers being unable to compete with the top 100 is nothing short of bizarre. How many people really start blogging with the intention of being in the top 100? Though being in the top 100 would be nice, it is far from my primary motivation. Has Paul Boutain never heard of the long tail? As John Connell notes, the editor-in-chief of Wired magazine, Chris Anderson, is the father of the long tail. All-in-all, it’s just a really odd argument to be put forward in such an arena.

And the idea that Google doesn’t notice blogs any more is absolutely bizarre. This certainly does not chime with my experiences. Over three quarters of my visitors come from search engines. That figure used to be closer to two thirds. My friends often tell me that they accidentally found my blog when they were searching for something (that’s the only way I can get them to read my blog to this day!). I myself have, to my annoyance, had my blog come up as a high result in a search.

Then there is the idea that blogs need to be personal to be valuable to people. I hardly think this is so. In fact, this is a complete contradiction to Paul Boutin’s assertion that bloggers all aspire to be the next Huffington Post or Treehugger, not exactly the most personal sites in the world. As Robin Hamman says, Twitter and Facebook may lead to the decline of the diarist blogger, but the topical blogger remains unaffected.

Nowadays, with the likes of Facebook, Flickr and Twitter, there might be easier — and more personal — ways to publish your content than to start a blog. And there is absolutely no doubt that maintaining a blog is a major commitment. But that doesn’t mean that blogging doesn’t have an important role to play. In fact, I would argue that it makes blogging all the more important.

Well that’s blown it. The most exciting new talent to hit Formula 1 in a long time is about to find himself in the centre of the dreaded British tabloid hype. Jenson Button wilted under the spotlight. Lewis Hamilton might not cope much better, despite the nerves of steel he has shown in his career so far.

A few people are worried that he will catch the “Formula 1 disease” and lose his racing edge, opting for a safe 8 or 6 points instead of taking the sort of risky moves we have seen from him. More worryingly, Hamilton will have to take the chequered flag soon, otherwise the media will make him pay the price. The fact that Button took so long to win a race suffocated the man. Expectations were too high. The higher the expectations, the bigger the pressure and the worse the performance.

And as Clive James has pointed out, it could be even worse for Lewis Hamilton because he is black. So not only is he a sportsman who is expected to win. He is also expected to be a representative of an entire race.

But Hamilton, as a rookie, has had it relatively easy so far. His first three races happened in relative anonymity as far as the general public was concerned. Now, it seems, everybody knows about him. He has made history, being the first ever driver to finish on the podium in each of his first three races.

Yesterday morning Jackie Stewart moved the hype machine up a gear by saying that he could be the World Champion this year. He would be the first rookie to do so, apart from the very first World Champion back in 1950 (because they were all rookies).

In one sense, Jackie Stewart is absolutely right. What he said is really no more than a statement of fact. Lewis Hamilton could win the World Championship this year. I said so myself yesterday. But there is a difference between me and Jackie Stewart.

I am an arsehole with a blog. I have never raced a car in my life. The ultimate armchair enthuso-dick. Stewart, on the other hand, is one of the most respected observers of Formula 1 in the world, a triple World Champion who has seen decades of racing and knows what he is talking about.

As such, Jackie Stewart’s word is taken as gospel. And because he has said that Hamilton could win the championship this year (a statement of fact), people will now start to expect him to actually win the championship this year (a fanciful tabloid seller).

Jackie Stewart’s appearance on Today was just the first step, and by the end of the morning Matt Bishop, editor-in-chief of F1 Racing, was on Radio Five Live spouting the biggest load of crap I have ever heard about a driver who has only driven three grands prix.

F1 Racing is a good magazine, but it likes its hype and sensationalism. It’s a bit like the NME of motor racing publications. “Why Nico Rosberg will be world champion!” and “Robert Kubica is the best rookie since Alonso!” are two typical headlines you might see in F1 Racing. They said similar sorts of things about Fisichella and Trulli a decade ago.

This is made worse by the fact that Hamilton happens to be British, so everyone in the country will be interested. I can see the next cover in my head. “HAMILTON! The best driver the world has ever seen! And why he will be the first ever rookie champ!”

I can understand this sort of thing when it is designed to sell magazines. But Matt Bishop was there on Radio Five Live representing Formula 1. He is meant to be a level-headed expert. So what did he say?

He said that Hamilton has trounced his team-mate Alonso. Well, he beat Alonso in the last race, but was it a trouncing? It looked to me as though Alonso was just struggling on the soft tyres. He had a bad race in Bahrain. But in the other two races, Alonso beat Hamilton. At best, I would say Hamilton and Alonso look neck-and-neck.

But what Mr Bishop went on to say after that was even worse, almost unimaginable. He said that Hamilton is one of five or six drivers in Formula 1 history who have ever had this much talent. And then a minute later he even trotted out the names of people who Hamilton is meant to be as good as.

Lewis Hamilton is in the same chapter only as Juan Manuel Fangio, Jim Clark, Ayrton Senna, Michael Schumacher. And that’s it.

So, with a career that has lasted just three races, Lewis Hamilton is, according to Matt Bishop, at least the fifth-best driver the world has ever seen; the latest in a short list of Formula 1′s most legendary names. That is just an extraordinary thing to say. He hasn’t even won a race yet. Hamilton has looked impressive, but give him a chance! This is just going to create expectations that simply will not be met any time soon.

And, predictably, it just gets worse with ITV’s coverage. ITV have spent the past few years creaming their pants over the distinctly average Jenson Button. Now that a genuinely good British driver has arrived it is just one big Lewis Hamilton wank-fest.

As if the interviews with his brother (eh? What other sports give you interviews with a sportsperson’s brother?) weren’t bad enough, ITV even manage to spend their whole time talking about Lewis Hamilton even when they are interviewing other drivers.

Before the race at the weekend there was an interview with Robert Kubica where Louise Goodman actually said to him something along the lines of, “But you’re making the sort of mistakes that Lewis Hamilton should be making as a rookie — what do you think of him?”

And then after the race there was an interview with Alonso where the questions about Alonso’s race came across as a chore for Louise Goodman, who obviously couldn’t wait to say, “But Lewis Hamilton had a good race, didn’t he?” Alonso frowned and politely said “yes”, but if I was in his shoes I might have given her a punch.

And the British public will tune into the Spanish Grand Prix next month expecting to see something amazing. And Hamilton will now know what is expected. And he will be unable to deliver it.

Let us just remember the last time a rookie driver had such an impressive start to a career. Jacques Villeneuve came damn close to winning his first race in 1996. He came close to winning that championship. He went on to win the Championship in 1997. But after that, his career was so shoddy that it became just one big embarrassment to the entire concept of the 1997 World Drivers’ Championship.

Something tells me that the next issue of F1 Racing won’t have the headline, “LEWIS HAMILTON: The next Jacques Villeneuve!”

I am probably your typical lazy student, although I’ve always been an awful morning person so it’s not really anything to do with being a stinky student. So when I have an earlyish lecture, it is a right chore, especially because I have to get up extra early because I have to take the train in. If I’m willing to take a risk and take the last possible train without being horrendously late, some days I have to be out of the door before 8:45.

I’ve noted a few times before that I find it hard to understand why some of Radio 4′s listeners get so enraged by the smallest change to its output. Like the ditching of The UK Theme. But over time I have learned that you can — and sometimes do — rely on Radio 4 like clockwork.

I am terrible in the mornings. If I have an early start (and by ‘early’ I mean earlier than 11), you can forget it. I’ll set the alarm, and it will wake me up, oh yes. But I’ll only switch it off and go back to sleep again. I’m not one of these people who wakes up and is all of a sudden alert and can’t get back to sleep again — I wish I could do that; I’m so jealous. Instead, if it’s before 9 o’clock, I’ll switch over to Radio 4 and shove my head under the duvet. Usually I’ll fall back fast asleep.

This is exactly what I did last week. I was fast asleep. I have absolutely no recollection of anything that was on the radio between 7:45 (when my alarm went off) and 8:25. But the utterance of one simple sentence changes all that.

And now here’s Gary with the sport.

Those words, spoken every day at 8:25, are like claxons going off directly next to my ear. It is a wailing siren; a signal that I really have to jump out of bed right now and head off to catch the train. Thank goodness for Radio 4. If they ever move the sport, I will be the first to get out my collection of green pens and fire off an irate letter to the controller of Radio 4.

It takes a brave Radio 4 controller to actually control anything. If you change anything even slightly, you can expect several letters written in green ink to appear in the newspapers. I heard Mark Damazer on the Today programme this morning justifying his decision to — *gasp* — make a change, and I thought it was quite a good justification as well.

I think I’ve listened to the Radio 4 startup once in my life, probably during one insomniac summer’s night. I had to turn over when I heard that awful piece of music. I turned back later only to find some boring programme for farmers. It’s best to wait until 6 if you’re a normal person.

If you’ve never heard it (first of all you’re lucky, second of all you’re probably in the majority because it’s only ever played at 0530), here it is in all its “glory”.

Who would have thought that this frightful medley — called ‘The UK Theme’, which come to think of it fits the tweeness of the ‘piece’ well — of just about every terrible traditional song you can think of would actually have fans?! Radio 4 listeners hate change, and they’ve set up a petition to save it from the axe.

The thing is, though, what if this happened the other way around? What if, for the past thirty-odd years, Radio 4 had an extended news bulletin and a longer shipping forecast at half past five in the morning — replacing useful content with filler music? What on earth would those conservative listeners say if that was replaced with some rubbishy twee box-ticking medley?

In my view, The UK Theme is actually a sign of political correctness gone mad, because just look at all this box-ticking!

  • Greensleeves — tick
  • Londonderry Air — tick
  • Men of Harlech — tick
  • Scotland the Brave — tick

Update: Third Avenue has views as well.