ONE of the defining stories of everyday life is talking about the state of public life, quality of people in authority and institutions, and often lamenting the disconnection between those in power and the concerns of everyone else.
There has always been dissatisfaction about public life in Scotland. Part of this is healthy scepticism. Yet, this is an age where trust has cratered across Scottish public life. There are widespread feelings of anxiety, not being properly represented, and weak accountability, none of which bodes well for the body politic.
Scotland’s media may be the most talked-about part of the public sphere: a phrase originating with German intellectual Jürgen Habermas. The media is not the sole part but the most visible – a host of other agencies and institutions also sit within it and impact public life.
To complicate matters, the Scottish public sphere does not exist independently but is cross-fertilised and impacted by other public spheres. There is the London-centric public sphere – the centre of the main UK media, print and broadcast operations. Beyond this are the growing global platforms, which have created a powerful corporatised international public sphere.
Philip Schlesinger of Glasgow University has studied the Scottish, UK and global public spheres over three decades. He describes Scotland as having “a dual public sphere” shaped by London as well as Scotland, a similar experience in his view to “other nations in multinational states”. Taking a global perspective, this could be widened to introducing a third and increasingly important dimension which would create a triptych of public spheres.
Not that long ago – in the late 1980s and early 1990s – there was an evident belief in “a golden era” in Scotland’s media and public life. Straplines like “Real Scots Read the Record” (Daily Record) and the “Rise Now and Be a Nation Again” frontpage of The Sun referenced this resilient, confident Scottishness.
Things have changed dramatically since then. How Scots consume news has shifted even in the past few years, with 77% of Scots getting their news online in 2021 falling slightly to 73% in 2025; with TV news consumption declining from 56% to 46%, social media from 52% to 43%, with print trailing at 10% and 11% in those two years.
Dr Camila Mont’Alverne of Strathclyde University describes two trends operating: “First, online news sources consolidate themselves as the main source of news for many people, although TV still plays a relevant role. Second, there is a fragmentation regarding the use of digital platforms for news, particularly with the decline of Facebook use for such purposes over the years.”
Scotland’s print media was once defined by huge readership sales; most famously the saturation sales of the Sunday Post alongside the high sales of the Express into the 1950s and 1960s, reflecting the widespread appeal of Unionist Scotland.
The entire Scottish print media was effectively part of the establishment: opposed to the labour and trade union movements, SNP, anti-nuclear campaigns and radical currents. The Herald and Scotsman embodied this well into the late 1960s and only began to change as Scotland became more secular, diverse and questioning. It was in the 1970s that they became more liberal in the widest sense of the word: supporting the devolution proposals of the late 1970s, anti-Thatcherism in the 1980s, and subsequent home rule consensus.
Scotland’s broadcast media and the BBC
BBC Scotland has long been the subject of significant public criticism. The moniker itself was only created in 1968 when BBC Scotland controller Alasdair Milne (who went on to head the entire BBC) changed the name on the front of the Glasgow West End headquarters.
No change occurred in the structural relationship between Glasgow and London, despite attempts of 1970s controller Peter Hetherington, who was removed by the London BBC for pushing at the boundaries. BBC Scotland is to this day a name on the side of a building and a brand, but at its heart “a kind of fiction”.
BBC Scotland senior leaders are not accountable to Scottish audiences but to BBC management in London. This, in the words of one former BBC insider, produces “a culture where ultimately Scottish viewers and their interests do not in the end matter. Power in BBC Scotland flows internally down to London, not across Scotland”.
“The major challenge for the BBC is that audiences now get their news, information and entertainment in non-linear ways through social media and portals like YouTube. But the BBC is still primarily a linear broadcaster,” says another former senior BBC figure.
There is also the “British” question, notes the former BBC staffer: “BBC Scotland’s problem is particularly acute. It labels itself as ‘British’ at a time when well over 60% of people north of the Border identify as Scottish and not British at all.
“It’s never fully recovered from the huge dent to the public’s confidence it took during its coverage of the independence referendum campaign.”
BBC Scotland’s output is forensically examined, that of STV and ITV Border less so, but their work has an impact. Both produce a negligible amount of original Scottish content, and STV have retreated over a long period from the late 1980s and early 1990s not just in news, but also sport, culture and drama.
A major challenge for all broadcasters is the cost of producing specific Scottish content, the fragmentation and increasing choice available to Scottish audiences, and how the principle of public service broadcasting can be protected in a multi-platform environment where the BBC licence fee is not sustainable. Added to this is how the principles and values of public service broadcasting can be best defended in an environment of increasingly assertive and disruptive players such as the right-wing broadcaster GB News alongside the complacency of Ofcom.
Attempting to challenge these institutions is a small network of DIY and independent media, some with a pro-independence stance and small audiences compared to the established media. Yet these forces are increasingly dwarfed by the strength and assertion of global media platforms such as Netflix, Amazon and Disney.
The global consumption patterns of media have the potential to reinforce an increasingly homogeneous media in production and content. This is one without the joy of the local, community anchoring and shared collective memory; instead creating production content which plays to the biggest world markets in China, India and the Far East and hence plays it safe in terms of political sensibilities.
The “Netflixification” of media consumption can aid “the Netflixification of British politics”, according to Luke Tryl of pollsters More in Common, with fragmentation and previously unacceptable views, particularly on the far-right becoming normalised.
Living in a multi-platform world
MELODY House of Strathclyde University thinks a big problem is at play: “The platformitisation of media means that almost anyone has the ability to make and share information, and communication across these platforms is centred on the attention economy, which works to amplify trends.
“This means that the more something is repeated, the more it is judged ‘true’, which could be why we are seeing an increasingly narrowcast news media that seems to be focused on a small selection of topics and views.”
Catherine Happer of the Glasgow University Media Group observes: “One of the problems is that the alternative speakers online – podcasters, influencers and so on – become trustworthy by default if they call out ‘the mainstream agenda’. In online cultures, disinformation thrives and isn’t subject to the same checks and balances as traditional journalism.”
“Where is the opportunity to tell the unique story of a particular place to the world and not compromise but show it in all its humanity?” ponders one independent film producer.
They reflect more broadly: “Such opportunities remain, but they are increasingly precarious in a world where so much funding and reach depends on global platforms. How does a small country like Scotland cherish its stories in such an environment?”
This relates to the issue of representation and how Scotland is portrayed across all media forms and platforms. This is not just about TV or new media, but film, drama and other forms of cultural production. Scotland has always had a narrow bandwidth of resources and production possibilities, but more is at work.
The archetypal tropes used to sell Scotland to the world are broadcast back to us. This version of Scotland, comprised of tartanry, kitschness and being couthy, has been seen in numerous films and stories down the years and can showcase a certain wiliness and ingenuity against authority – from Whisky Galore! to Local Hero. However, this wearisome set of stereotypes creates a clichéd Scotland that gives mainly American and international audiences the country they want to see.
This Scotland of the lack of imagination has consequences for the people of Scotland. We see ourselves reflected in stories and situations which bear little relationship to reality. There is an alienation and disconnection in this imagined Scotland – and a cost. We are missing the stories and representation of the real lives of our country.
“There is a cultural deficit in the representation of Scotland, and it impacts on how people see themselves and their lives,” says one filmmaker.
Whatever happened to civil society?
SCOTLAND’S public sphere extends beyond the media. Its boundaries stretch out to include other influential actors in public life such as trade unions, churches, campaigning groups and NGOs, research bodies at universities and elsewhere, and agencies such as think tanks trying to influence government public policy.
This world shares some of the terrain of civil society, but the two are not coterminous: civil society is made up of non-state actors, whereas the public sphere can be more understood conceptually as a space or equivalent of a town square. A more descriptive term of what constitutes the public sphere was the term used by Scottish political scientist William Mackenzie in 1978 writing about a “community of communicators”. This vivid term embodies a community, set of networks, shared values of communication, and its outward-facing qualities.
In Scotland, like most of the West, huge changes have happened to civil society and the public sphere in the last few decades. We are far removed from the reclaiming and renaissance of civil society as a concept which occurred in the 1980s and 1990s, seen in the works of Václav Havel and John Keane which played an intellectual part in the second “Prague Spring” of 1989, and in a less dramatic extent in Scotland the analysis of David McCrone and Lindsay Paterson as the case for Scottish self-government gathered force at the same time.
Scotland has experienced two trends regarding civil society. The first is the hollowing out and retreat of established authorities such as trade unions and churches; the second an incorporation into state networks of a host of NGOs, campaigning and professional bodies, many now dependent on state funding. In a small political community such as Scotland, this is not healthy and mitigates against pluralism, and challenging government.
This has contributed to a narrowing of politics since the creation of the Scottish Parliament. The consequences are a Parliament and political class shorn of lived experience, genuine working-class voices, and lacking in diversity – whether in background or views. In this, Holyrood is no different from legislatures across the West, and a far cry from Mackenzie’s idea of public life defined by a collegiate, open “community of communicators”.
“With a rise of populist parties and polarisation of politics, we are seeing a global pushback against inclusion and diversity policies which advocate for a more equal society. As a result, when diversity is taken off the agenda, representation will slip,” states Fiona McKay of Strathclyde University.
Happer thinks that a number of factors have aided a retreat in democratic engagement, observing: “In our research, we have also identified a decline in political literacy in those groups who go online: where they may be very well-informed about the issues they care about, but know very little of the nuts and bolts of politics in Scotland, of policy and politicians.
“In some of our groups, very few could even name John Swinney, whereas the drama around Nicola Sturgeon was known to everyone.”
This has contributed to the loss of “a centred communicative core – with a shared set of beliefs and understandings – around which any consensus for political change would need to coalesce”.
London Calling
ADDING to this is the London-centric public sphere: the print and broadcast media centred in London plus the dense ecology of institutions that sit around the Westminster village - national NGOs, voluntary organisations, campaigning groups, trade unions, lobbyists and corporate bodies, and think tanks.
Within this world, dark monies and interests engage in non-transparent funding of right-wing so-called think-tanks such as the Institute of Economic Affairs and Taxpayers’ Alliance. This has been forensically examined by journalist Peter Geoghegan and former Observer investigative writer Carole Cadwalladr, who have scrutinised how the pro-Brexit campaign was funded and Russian disinformation activities in the UK.
The London-centric public sphere casts a shadow over Scotland. Its media output, activities and discussions cross the Border and impact on Scottish public deliberations. London conversations frame Scotland in ways that are increasingly jarring. At best, Scotland is forgotten, at worst, it is subjected to condescension, arrogance and ignorance. This is mostly from right-leaning places such as The Spectator, Telegraph and GB News. But the weight of this avalanche has affected those on the left and centre-left who have shown an unwillingness to counter the daily grind of right-wing discourse.
Added to this is the behemoth of the global public sphere, which increasingly shapes the media consumption of millions of us. It reflects a globalised culture where place and location are relegated to tell stories that appeal to the largest global audience without offending authoritarian and despotic regimes.
The future of the Scotland of imagination
SCOTLAND’S size makes its public sphere vulnerable in a world of AI, tech bros and right-wing populism. This needs to be understood and action taken.
First, the Scottish public sphere needs regulation related to media and public bodies – made in Scotland and designed by Scotland. Second, Scottish institutions need to be, where possible, accountable to people who live in Scotland. That would mean an autonomous BBC Scotland with its own board and structures. Third, Scotland has historically had a problem with holding power to account: a characteristic which has continued in the devolution era. Across numerous controversies: RBS, Rangers FC liquidation, Glasgow School of Art fires, there has been political and media failure to investigate authority and practice accountability.
Fourth, public service broadcasting needs defined and championed. There is, in the eyes of one former media insider, “a growing scepticism to the idea of public broadcasting, possibly an existential one. Where is a public sector ethos in the BBC, and where is it evident on programmes like Strictly which could be on anywhere?” Fifth, there should be an awareness of who has a voice in Mackenzie’s “community of communicators”, recognising privileged actors and those missing and marginalised from conversations.
Sixth, the role of arts and culture has huge soft power and requires more support and imagination than devolution has so far provided. Finally, a creative, dynamic public sphere is not just about government but about a kaleidoscope of different players contributing to a rich ecology. Scottish public life could do with more creative interventions and initiatives. Where are the research bodies and think tanks contributing to the commonweal of public policy and self-government? Where are the independent cultural organisations, beyond the sterling Saltire Society set up in 1936? And can we look to places that have done this well, such as the Baltics, Finland and South Korea?
These last two observations underline that not everything about Scotland and public life fits into a narrow version of politics. A more generous, ecumenical understanding of Scotland would have as milestone moments numerous cultural watersheds – the Powell-Pressburger classic I Know Where I’m Going! in 1945; the MGM musical Brigadoon in 1954; The Cheviot, The Stag And The Black, Black Oil touring Scotland in the 1970s; Billy Connolly’s banana boots in the same decade; the first-ever appearance of The Proclaimers on Channel 4’s The Tube in 1987; Wildcat’s The Steamie from the same year; the book and film of Trainspotting in the 1990s, and for some of us, Alan Cumming and Forbes Masson’s delightful camp joy of The High Life on the BBC in 1995 (now wonderfully reprised as a National Theatre-Dundee Rep production).
All of us have different moments; the point is that each contributes to the cultural mosaic and collective memories that make up Scotland. Official stories and dominant accounts always need challenge. In this, the work of pioneers such as Glasgow Women’s Library in cataloguing women’s life, experience and creativity has been groundbreaking, as has Sara Sheridan’s writing chronicling the missing women from the public spaces of Scotland.
Such initiatives as the list above do not happen by accident. They take creativity, imagination and courage. They require support, resources and monies, usually involving public agency investment, often in partnership with the private sector.
They need championing and too often today significant public bodies such as BBC Scotland are going in the wrong direction as the former BBC senior staffer observes: “The recent vandalising of Radio Scotland’s specialist music output seems to confirm that the people on the third floor have lost sight of what it means to be a public service broadcaster. That could be fatal.”
We do not need a “Scotland the Brand” as some have talked about, or to squash all our complexities into one overbearing story and simplistic account. But at the same time, the threat of the leviathan of globalising totalising platforms is all too real and could contribute to what Schlesinger has called “a post-public sphere” whereby the idea of a public and polis are diminished and delegitimised. Politics, media and the public sphere, he thinks, “desperately needs to rebuild democratic principles and practices able to engage fragmented publics”.
Scotland has created some potent stories through the ages. We pride ourselves on being storytellers but now must face uncomfortable stories and address new challenges. Who should tell stories about us in Scotland and globally? And how can we begin to try to face up to the big issues?
We must ask such questions and come up with answers in an age of turbulence and disruption. The UK faces multiple crises: the West is stuck in paralysis; populism, racism and xenophobia are gathering at the gates; while new forces of capitalist accumulation and exploitation believe the future belongs to them. We cannot just cling to our comfort zones and echo chambers in Scotland and buy into leaders telling us everything will be fine.
It is time to recognise the ruins around us and the revolutionary times we are living in.
