Who can begrudge the groaning pension pot of the BBC's Alan Yentob? Not many serious cultural figures, scions of the arts establishment, would be willing to dress up in a toga for a bit of publicity. Surely that's worth a million or two straight off? Yet somehow, the news that the BBC's arts supremo has a pension pot worth £6.3 million if bought as an annuity on the open market to cushion his retirement, after a life spent working for the corporation, has caused an outcry. Admittedly, the fact that this comes after another dispute over his expenses in 2004 (he was cleared), the revelations that the BBC paid for a large party at his country home (business contacts were present), and that he had not exactly been present at interviews for a documentary (look, he's a busy man, OK?) does not help his case. But that doesn't matter, because that case has been made for him by the corporation's director-general, Mark Thompson. Thompson, whose own pension pot is valued at a mere £3.2 million, has stressed time and again that the BBC has to pay competitive salaries to compete in a competitive market. Otherwise, he fears, there will be a "talent drain" from his corporation. So, of course Yentob needs an annual salary of £325,000, with all the perks and the long-term securities that come with it. There aren't many little bearded men out there capable of making the sort of programmes that we have all enjoyed from his Imagine series. If the BBC doesn't pay for long documentaries about Werner Herzog, surrealism and the "mysterious, offbeat, sexually charged world" of the Japanese writer Haruki Murakami, then… hang on, who would snap him up, exactly? If you look around, the answer is simple: nobody. The director-general may not have noticed, but commercial television in Britain is in a state of collapse at the moment. His talk of a "talent drain" began in defence of Jonathan Ross's ludicrous pay deal of £18 million over three years, which was, of course, negotiated well before he disgraced himself in the Andrew Sachs fiasco. Back then, Thompson's argument might have had some substance. But now, unless Ross fancies being a judge on The X Factor, he has no option but to stay put at the BBC. And unless Yentob would like to employ his wealth of cultural knowledge in the production of Britain's Got Talent – plenty of surrealism there for him to play with – he's better off where he is, too. Also, if the corporation is so keen on hanging on to its talent, it is rather curious that it throws such fabulous parties for that talent when it leaves. The cost of sending off John Birt, the former director-general, is estimated at £150,000. Stories about £100 bottles of champagne for celebrities and £400 cakes are never going to go down well with those scrimping to pay for their licence fees. And it is simply not good enough for Thompson to defend it all by comparing the BBC to the commercial sector. It is not the commercial sector. The commercial sector is a tough place to work: you have to fight your corner and earn your ratings, or you're finished. It is completely market-reactive out there, whereas the BBC is the cushiest outpost left in the media world. Indeed, the more one thinks about it, the more apt the image of Yentob in a toga seems. Forget the comparison with ITV: the present day BBC is more like the Roman Empire in the third century or thereabouts. It has had a glorious history. It has developed culture and civilisation at home, and spread them to the furthest corners of the globe. It has given us the entertainment equivalent of long straight roads and under-floor heating. But now it is crumbling under the weight of its own monolithic structure, and suffering from the extravagances of its self-indulgent leaders. Spending £14 million on taxis? Or £200 on lunch for two? With half of the 10 highest pensions in the public sector? It might be time to start listening to the barbarians at the gate. Palin nightmare may not be over yet Sarah Palin’s resignation speech, on the shores of an Alaskan lake, was illuminating. When running for Vice President last year, she had more than 20 experts choreographing her every move. Now, she is on her own: Palin in the raw. The intent was to explain her reasons for quitting; unfortunately, she used basketball to illustrate her points – “because you are naive if you don’t see a full-court press from the national level picking away right now”. She was, she trilled, “a good point guard”, who kept her eye “on the ball that represents sound priorities”. This ball is made up of “energy independence and smaller government and national security and freedom” – and she knows “when it’s time to pass that ball for victory!” Heaven help us. She makes John Prescott sound like Barack Obama. It makes you think about the nightmare that might have been – and worry, given that she might well run for President, about the nightmare that could still be. How difficult is it to boil an egg? This is a nation of two halves: the one we keep reading about, which spends its time queuing for allotments, growing all its own vegetables and delighting even in the earth that clings to the roots and leaves thereon. This group is also known to revel in the keeping of poultry at home and to appreciate what an egg is really supposed to taste like. And then we have the customers of the Happy Egg Company, who are prepared to spend 86p – 86p! – on a couple of ready-cooked eggs, peeled and in a packet. These folk are – what? – too busy, too lazy or just too incompetent to deal with the machinations of home boiling. I myself am in the first category, but I have much sympathy with those others. If they can’t even cook an egg, poor loves, then someone must immediately go to work on how they can be provided with ready-buttered toast. Sats should pass the test This year’s Sats results are out, which is an improvement on 2008, when some were late and others never appeared. But, as all good pupils know, speed is not the most important thing, accuracy is. And Sats exams have a terrible record in giving the children the wrong results. Despite all the problems of the past, the Government is committed to Sats (at least for 11-year-olds), because it loves its targets. And schools that perform well are all in favour, because they leap up the league tables. It is only the children who gain nothing from the experience. Let’s hope the results are right as well as prompt. It’s the least they deserve. Big Brother, we're not watching you We are enjoying the most marvellous summer. It doesn’t matter that the heatwave has cracked or that a Brit did not, after all, win the tennis. What is giving the season its freshness, its magic is that – have you noticed? – almost no one is watching Big Brother. It must have felt a bit like this in the 17th century, when the Great Plague lifted – all those years of dread and despair and then, suddenly, Lo! The nation is healed. For a decade now, the song of the nightingale and thwack of leather on willow have been completely drowned out by nonsense about what Ziggy said, or Chanelle did, or what happened last night in the Jacuzzi. This year, the circus continues – some delightful young people called Halfwit and Dogface are in there, apparently, convinced that they’re making themselves famous. But we no longer care. Even teenagers seem to have found something else to talk about. In 2004, 5.1 million people followed Big Brother 5; this year’s instalment is averaging around two million. So, in the last five years, a staggering 3,000,000 Britons have come to their senses. That is a remarkable statistic, and one to make this country proud.Decline and fall of the BBC empire
The BBC is crumbling under the weight of its own monolithic structure, and suffering from the extravagances of its self-indulgent leaders, writes Gill Hornby.
Wednesday, 8 July 2009
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