January: ITV’s Peter Fincham starts the year by knocking the knockers who complain that his schedule is stuffed with poached BBC stars and copies of BBC shows. “Sheer nonsense,” fumes the normally mild-mannered TV boss of the attacks as he praises his new format The Great British Blokey Barbecue, presented by Adrian Chiles, Alan Titchmarsh and Lee Dixon. Liz Bonnin will soon be joining to present pop science show Bingo! A Theory, Fincham reveals, before becoming tetchy again when denying that business series The Virgin, starring newly ennobled Lord (Alex) Ferguson, bears any similarity to a programme made by another broadcaster.
February: Floods come to the UK again, but broadcasters’ previous neutral approach gives way to rescuing victims and campaigning for affected communities: Sky News’ Kay Burley becomes known as Joan of the Ark or the Saviour of the Sodden. Yet the new anger has unfortunate results too as polite competition between TV teams turns vicious, with footage of rival reporters faking being windswept or mid-flood uploaded to YouTube, and the prices of their designer anoraks leaked. There are even rumours of water from pumps being poured onto other crews’ equipment.
March: Consternation at Radio 3 when its new controller Alan Davey at last arrives – and turns out to be the former Hawkwind bassist after all, not the Arts Council bureaucrat the Beeb’s headhunters and selection panel thought they were getting. The sleepy classical station is at once relaunched as dedicated to prog rock, its legacy genres and the experimental end of heavy metal, and gains a gig-archive YouTube channel: listeners are woken up by top riffs at breakfast, Rick Wakeman is the first Composer of the Week, teatime classical chat show In Tune becomes raucous Turn It Up To 11, and Radio 2’s long-running The Organist Entertains is poached and given a lewd and psychedelic 70s makeover. But the BBC Trust says no to rebranding as Radio Third Eye.
April: As negotiations over election debates grind on with little time left, some attempt is made to appease hardcore fans of men in suits waffling behind lecterns by airing Debates About Debates, bringing together broadcasting news chiefs like Sky’s John Ryley with party spinners to argue about the merits of the “5-3-2” (number of leaders per debate) plan and whether Ukip, the SNP and the Greens should be in or out – but even when anchors like Adam Boulton or David Dimbleby also take part, ratings are rock-bottom. Only the introduction of Russell Brand saves the meta-debates, with every anti-politics rant eliciting studio cheering and record numbers of tweets. “I agree with Russell,” the TV executives and Westminster fixers are forced to intone in turn, teeth gritted.
May: Far more gripping than the poll itself on 7 May is the on-screen stand-off in Channel 4’s election-night broadcast between Channel 4 News anchor Jon Snow, 67, and upstart new signing Jeremy Paxman, 64 – a tussle Autumnwatch fans compare to stags rutting. Paxman typically tries to interrogate his rival – repeatedly asking “what’s it like being best known for your socks, matey?” and “have you got a £1m book deal, then?” - while during ad breaks Snow records a tearful video for YouTube complaining of “betrayal” by C4 creative queen Jay Hunt.
June: “We really need him for the election”, Radio 4 controller Gwyneth Williams pointedly said of John Humphrys’ future last year – a remark inevitably leading to post-poll speculation that the veteran inquisitor will soon be replaced. One such story prompts extraordinary scenes as Humphrys descends, mike in hand, to the BBC newsroom in pursuit of the man making the decision, news supremo James Harding. Well aware of the career-terminating result of ex-director general George Entwistle agreeing to a grilling by the Welshman, Harding can be seen fleeing towards the exit on his own news channel, over Joanna Gosling’s shoulder. Williams, meanwhile, is reported to have flown to Tasmania to follow the progress of a costume drama being recorded there.
July: With another Tory-led coalition installed after protracted negotiations, culture secretary Sajid Javid is promoted as predicted. As the Tories have already used up Jeremy Hunt and Maria Miller, their MPs with some media credibility, the only choices left claiming expertise are rival headbangers Rob Wilson and Philip Davies. In a public audition some call The Hate Factor, each man does his utmost to show he loathes the BBC more: Wilson by snarling in the Times and Daily Mail, Davies (known as the Beast of Shipley) by grandstanding in the Commons and the culture select committee.
August: Adding to its supplements put together by government-backed news organisations in China and Russia, the Telegraph announces a North Korean insert will be joining the monthly rota. “It’s a country that shows being ruled by a dynasty can give continuity, cohesion and purpose,” group chairman Aidan Barclay suavely enthuses on his return from Pyongyang, before going on to Brecqhou to brief his father David and uncle Frederick.
September: Director general Tony Hall summons hacks to his BBC theme park in Kent, where he discloses that one zone will be devoted to his predecessor and mentor John Birt and the halcyon years when he was in charge: there will be a Birt statue created by Thomas Heatherwick, blue-sky thinking tents, reconstructions of the era’s meetings inculcating Birtist ideas, but of course also 24/7 screenings of programmes from his reign and lots of 90s rock and pop. Yet that’s not the only bombshell: Hall also announces the sitcom W1A has made Broadcasting House “non-viable” as the BBC’s base, and all but local London services will be moving to … Gateshead. The clues were there in The Archers if only we’d paid attention.
October: Further news from the Telegraph, where former editor in chief Jason Seiken is revealed to be now in command of its sizeable fleet of drones and overseeing a combined newsgathering and delivery operation (the drones home in on current news hotspots while – as cover – en route to drop off packages) in alliance with Amazon. Accordingly his title is now Captain Seiken, and he will soon change his first name to “Jean-Luc” by deed poll.
November: Ailing TV station London Live applies for another modification of its licence, to eliminate local output entirely and end its remaining live shows: this of course entails a name change, but the proposed switch to LebedeTV at least means the existing branding can be cheaply repainted or Photoshopped. Ofcom agrees reluctantly to the name, but not to the idea of a channel almost entirely consisting of footage from owner Evgeny Lebedev’s headcam as he travels between his Italian castle, father’s home in Moscow and reporting assignments on several continents. “It’s not what Jeremy Hunt meant by local news”, the regulator stuffily huffs.
December: After 18 months of personal transformation for Danny Cohen following BBC2 controller Kim Shillinglaw’s hurtful slur that he was “not very huggable”, friends of the television boss tactfully suggest that he may be trying too hard to become the touchy-feely, celebrity-schmoozing Alan Yentob of Twitter, with Dan’s Clan replacing Al’s Pals. Chummy online exchanges with the likes of Gary Lineker are one thing, they point out, but tweeting personal sympathy to every D-lister kicked out of Strictly is going too far. You’re so huggable now, @Nigella_Lawson purrs reassuringly, there’s nothing left to prove.
