It is credited with being the most influential programme on British radio. The Today Programme on Radio 4, the breakfast listening of choice for opinion formers and agenda-setters in politics, business and the media, and huge swathes of the professional middle-class, isn't just a flagship news show: it's an institution. If you were filling a time capsule representing layers of Britishness in 2011 for future generations, you'd want an edition of the programme in the mix.
Like most of the breakfast shows we've reviewed this week, the Today programme sharply divides opinion. Detractors think it stuffy, old-fashioned, formal, stiff, elitist, too metrocentric, too middle-class, too white, too male, too adversarial. And it can be all of those things. Yet the show has never been more popular in its 54 years, with 7.03 million listeners tuning in, a rise of 600,000 from last year.
This morning's programme was presented by John Humphrys – a man who is the living embodiment of a sardonically raised eyebrow – and James Naughtie, famous for his majestically labyrinthine sentences and his blunter troubles with the word "Hunt".
The appeal is solid, and sometimes remarkable, journalism from dedicated reporters, combined with a motley crew of presenters paired in permutations that colour the show's tone that day. Humphrys plus Naughtie means old hands beyond ruffling, and the possibility of a right old barney if Humphrys does the 8.10am interview with a politician. This morning's, with two medics, was a polite and sober affair. You'd think Humphrys a pussycat if it was the first time you'd tuned in.
This is a show aimed at an intelligent listener, who might be mulling over the same questions that the show ponders ("Should we worry about China taking advantage of the Euro-zone crisis?") and thinking through the ramifications of headline stories. But it's also about an eccentric mix of elements that feels very quirkily British. The sports bulletin includes racing tips, which are celebrated for their legendary uselessness. There are the arts stories that sit awkwardly ("In the next hour, the medicines you shouldn't take. And Paul Simon."). And there's Thought for the Day, the three-minute sermon, at 7.50am. Today's message seemed to be that, like a shelf, we are all God's works of art. Quite put a spring in my step, that did.
The presenters, too, reflect this mix of incisive analysis and distinctive character. Humphrys, like a mouldy old cheese, has too much character for some, but fits well with some of the show's ingredients. I liked hearing him reeling from a gift of a religious relic ("I'm really most grateful," he said, audibly snorting) and relishing tales from Gyles Brandreth about the role of political whips ("Punishments can be offered," Brandreth boomed). I was less keen, though, on a phrase he reached for when discussing Ed Miliband's proposed changes to forming the shadow cabinet. "I don't know if I'm allowed to use the expression," Humphrys said ominously, "but isn't this a bit of willy-waving?" Yes, willy-waving. It was today's Today programme choke-on-your-breakfast moment. There's usually at least one.
