Who’s Who In Radio & TV

I don’t know about you, but in any book, I love a good glossary. In a couple of pages it can demonstrate what would normally take a writer half a book to explain. It’s the same with maps, drawn by squiggly hand on pages ii and iii of the preface, although authors usually include one simply because an editor has sat them down and said:

“Mate, I haven’t got a clue what’s going on and neither will the readers. What you need is a map. It’s the only way readers will work out where Mordor is.”

Actually, the map was Tolkien’s own idea.

This glossary, however, is here because it’s important you know some of the many, many jobs that are involved in the news industry.

Journalists who sit behind desks, digging away at stories, unpeeling the layers of artifice to get to the truth - but only when they’re relaxing with a steaming cup of coffee on the desk and wearing a warm, dry, cosy pair of socks are known, to on-the-road grafters like me, as desk bunnies. Reporters love nothing more than phoning up a desk bunnie and hearing them trying to quietly eat a chocolate Hobnob as they’re talking to you down the line.

Reporters, meanwhile, stand in the rain getting wet, nodding their heads as they wait for the studio presenter to get to the end of their incredibly long questions. Reporters are, of course, the heroes of the news industry. Wherever they park their car, that’s their home. The boot of their vehicle will often contain a camping stove, a kettle, some teabags and a holdall full of slightly damp and smelly clothing. I once found someone else’s bag in mine. I’ve still no idea who it belonged to but as there was a half bottle of Hugo Boss in it, I kept it. A reporter’s close relationship with their car means their office, their working environment, is always being redecorated: every day they are working somewhere new. This brings them untold happiness. Deep in the recesses of the glove compartment, there will be a pair of pants. The pants belong to them - never let them tell you they’re somebody else’s.

Correspondents are just reporters who get paid more and are allowed to stay dry. Reporters hate correspondents. Correspondents don’t even know reporters exist.

Sports Reporters at any social gathering have a tendency to enjoy talking about groin strains and fungal infections. They sometimes smell of deodorant – not because they’ve actually been doing any physical activity but just because they want to smell like their heroes.Despite constant retraining by their employers, they remain just a few seconds away from a sporting cliché. Sports reporters have terrible working hours - weekends and evenings. You never get a football match on a Tuesday afternoon unless it’s the World Cup in a far-off time zone but, then again, you don’t often have a surprise or breaking sports event. Arsenal and Chelsea don’t just decide to have an off-the-cuff game which takes everyone by surprise. You tend to have a little bit of notice that a match is taking place, whereas news reporters are turfed out of bed in the middle of the night with alarming regularity.

Editors sit in meetings all day. They all wish they were still reporters but they quite like sending their children to private school and going on holiday to Tuscany.

In television, Camera Operators are the most important people in the world. Without pictures of the bomb going off, reporters have nothing. Without reporters, you still have the pictures of the bomb going off. However, they have a habit of being a tad ‘individual’. I was once filming a late breaking story about ambulance provision in the NHS. As we waited for an ambulance to come racing past on its way to a job I turned to find Steve pointing his camera into the air.

“Swallows,” he explained as if it was completely obvious. “There’s a family of them flying in and out of that roof. I thought it might be a useful shot.”

“Steve? Can we just concentrate on the ambulances eh?”

Steve still believes those shots will come in handy one day.

In radio, Studio Managers are in charge of sorting out the phones, the outside sources that are linked up to the studio and everything else technical. When anything goes wrong you can be assured the studio manager will get the blame, never the presenter but I’ll let you into a secret: it’s never, ever, the Studio Manager’s fault.

Producers like to pretend they’re reporters until the moment they’re asked to go out on a story which would involve them being more than two hundred metres from a clean toilet. They still call themselves ‘journalists’ when out with friends but never when they’re asking for a quotation for car insurance (when they will insist, upon their mother’s life, they’re just clerical staff).

Telephone Call Handlers are incredibly important people, the first point of access between the radio station and the audience. They are paid a tiny fraction of the amount the “talent” gets and yet they’re the ones who answer the phone to someone who says “I can’t cope and I need help.” They get not a whiff of thanks for the work they do. God bless them all.

Everyone wants to be a Reporter. Trust me and remember that in the history of the world, nobody has ever said: “I want to be a Middle-Manager in the news industry..”

Traffic and Travel Presenters are NOT reporters because, quite simply, they never get wet. They are, however, brilliant at getting to the end of their bulletin just as the instrumental jingle bed gets to the very exciting bit. They will forever be voted off Strictly Come Dancing in week two.

Programme Presenters sit in warm studios. Their chairs are comfy. They hardly ever get rain dripping down their neck standing outside an empty building late at night waiting for a radio presenter to stop talking about I’m A Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here and just ask them a few sodding questions so they can go home and get dry. I’m not bitter, honestly. The world view of a presenter is tiny and by that I’m referring to the minuscule window in most radio studios from which they can see if it’s a: raining or b: not raining. The rest of their view of the world is based on the bank of television monitors on the walls of the studio and a list of questions sometimes written for them by producers. Some of them like to say they’re war correspondents although their passports may contain more visas for the Maldives than countries in the Middle East. Presenters hardly ever sleep in shipping containers in a dictatorship on the other side of the world (although I do know one who did).

Presenters are brilliant at wordplay. With a turn of phrase they can put burst a bubble, they can inflate an ego (occasionally their own) or put someone in their place faster than you can say ‘discombobulation’ (which is a word you should never try to say if you’re presenting a live radio programme).

They do have a tendency to try and over-balance any statement they make in an effort to not get complained about.

“Oh, what a fabulous day it was for me yesterday - hope it was for you too. Sunny all day long - which was fine because I’ve got dark hair.. but if you’re of light skin or have red hair then DO remember to wear sunscreen or a hat. I went off to a nearby seaside resort yesterday although other, equally nice ones are also nearby. I sat outside Lena’s cafe for some fish and chips - other restaurants and food products are available and then I bought myself a packet of bourbons. I kept an eye on the calories although, we should, of course, all be comfortable with how we look. Unless we aren’t of course - in which case, you can find a list of groups that may or may not be able to help you on our website. If you’re lucky enough to have internet access, of course.”

And, of course, there are lots of other very important people who work in broadcasting: regional managers, deputy regional managers, station managers, assistant station managers, deputy station managers, deputy assistant station managers, assistant to the station managers, assistant to the deputy station managers, assistant to the deputy station manager’s assistant. The list goes on. And on. And on…