In a world of Amazon Prime, Sky and Netflix, does BBC have the right to demand £159 from us all?

Culture Secretary Nadine Dorries certainly isn’t set to lavish cutesy kisses on the ageing face of Auntie. Dorries has declared that in five years the BBC “may have to be reformed”.

Rather than the public putting hands into pockets for the licence fee, the Corporation could become reliant upon advertising revenue and subscriptions – and be pared down in the process.

An “ally” – so often an euphemism – of the Culture Secretary is quoted as saying: “There will be a lot of anguished noises about how it [cuts] will hit popular programmes, but they can learn to cut waste like any other business.”

This week sees another anniversary. It’s 70 years since television output began in Scotland. Ten years later, news was being broadcast from Glasgow and Edinburgh. Scotland had found its own voice.

But is this voice to be choked? The anniversaries unfold at a time when the broadcaster is facing its greatest existentialist threat, internally and externally. Nadine Dorries isn’t alone in her criticism of the institution. John Sergeant, the BBC’s former political correspondent, said last year that the licence fee had become “increasingly out of date.”

Match of the Day host Gary Lineker, the BBC’s highest-paid star, has also questioned the future of the annual licence and called for it to be made voluntary. (Perhaps audiences should volunteer their thoughts on the ex-footballer’s £1.36m salary; down by £400k after he took a pay cut).

Jeremy Clarkson, whose Top Gear once raised £50m a year in overseas sales, has claimed BBC news, for example, has lost credibility. “I simply don’t trust a word you say anymore, and that’s sad.”

Ah, but many people may feel that these criticisms are simply the words of a grumpy newshound, a former goal sniffer and a petrolhead presenter who was sacked after he punched his producer. And that’s true. But it’s inarguable that news and entertainment departments face major policy reviews ahead.

The big question is has the BBC grown to the point it’s no longer relevant? If Scottish engineer John Reith, who was 33 when the BBC began in London in 1922 were around today, would he be happy with the output?’

Lord Reith would most certainly be looking over his shoulder at the competition. Streaming is now hugely popular; one survey revealed that over 80 per cent of British viewers streamed using paid services in the past year, such as Amazon Prime, Netflix and Disney Plus. Almost nine million admitted to illegally streaming shows.

Critics suggest that the licence fee at £159 – frozen for the next two years, before rising slightly for the following three years before possibly being binned – is still way too expensive. Amazon Prime for example costs £79 a year and Netflix £72 for the cheapest package.

Could Lord Reith argue that the BBC still represents value for money?

No doubt he would be reminding viewers the BBC offers up nine national television channels, plus regional TV series, six national and 40 local radio stations. Licence payers can also access iPlayer – with its box sets, documentaries, and films – the BBC website, BBC Sounds app, the World Service, and many other services such as CBeebies.

Lord Reith came to understand what television should be all about. He went on to develop a marketing strategy for the broadcaster, his directive being to ‘inform, educate and entertain.’ And Auntie determined to fulfil this remit over the years, having achieved regular transmission pictures in 1936 featuring announcers who sounded like characters from a Jane Austen novel.

As the broadcaster evolved, post-war television – which previously had been restricted to two broadcasts a week – began to find an audience.

It moved on from covering outdoor events to football matches, to programmes aimed at women and television plays. In 1953, the Coronation resulted in a massive amount of TV sets being sold, and in the same year Watch with Mother arrived, and frustrated mums looked to the heavens and gave thanks.

There is little doubt the UK has wallowed in much of the content, which has achieved massive ratings over the years. Many of us grew up watching quality drama such as 1960s teaching drama This Man Craig, starring John Cairney. The 1970s featured event television in the form of Peter McDougall’s takes on tenement close life in the likes of Just Another Saturday.

John Byrne’s Tutti Frutti cleared the streets in the late 1980s. We couldn’t get enough of the sublime I, Claudius, fail to follow The Crow Road, and Hamish Macbeth combined cultural irreverence with relevance.

More recently, viewers have soaked in the Scandi-Scottish greyness of Shetland in the way our grannies enjoyed a warm tin bath on a Sunday.

Line of Duty has become a phenomenon. And series such as Bodyguard have pulled in major viewing figures despite the streaming services’ competition.

We’ve had great children’s programmes. Who amongst us didn’t think Blue Peter’s Auntie Val Singleton would have looked after us better than many of our blood relatives? And shown us how to make a robot from a Fairy Liquid bottle into the bargain.

Young parents blessed the Teletubbies for the respite they offered from relentlessly demanding toddlers.

News and current affairs have often been startling and educational. News insight programmes such as Panorama have offered up the likes of Educating North Korea. David Attenborough’s The Blue Planet, you would imagine, would have had Lord Reith doing cartwheels.

And there is comedy, of course. From Hancock to Steptoe and Son, from Fawlty Towers to Only Fools and Horses. And Last of the Summer Wine and Dad’s Army proved that gentleness and moments of slapstick can add up to huge viewing figures.

And what of the output from BBC Scotland, which came into being in 1968? Auntie has allowed her Scottish cousins to make their own programmes, some of which have achieved massive cultural resonance. Surely our lives have been improved upon by the happiness induced by Rikki Fulton’s miserabilist I.M Joly? The eponymous Rab C. Nesbitt, another man blessed with a cursed demeanour, encouraged us to ask societal questions, consider issues such as poverty and mental health, while leaving us with belly ache.

The High Life took off in the national consciousness and who can argue against the impact of Still Game? Grown from the offshoot of the sketch comedy series Chewin’ the Fat, which was brought to life on Radio Scotland before transferring to television, the adventures of Jack and Victor proceeded to take viewers hostage for nine glorious seasons.

Viewers loved to see Scotland, its comedy and character reflected at them. And to keep the customers satisfied, the BBC Scotland Channel was created in 2019.

Critics point out its flagship news programme, The Nine, fails to attract more viewers than a local newspaper does readers.

Head of news Gary Smith, however, said the average of "about 20,000" was "very good for a news programme on a digital channel".

Yet, the channel has achieved real highlights; it was the platform which allowed for the development of the massively successful Guilt drama. It commissioned hugely popular documentaries, such as Nae Pasaran and Black Black Oil, achieving great critical acclaim. “It’s share of the market during core transmission hours is 2.4 per cent higher than any of the channels after the five original terrestrial channels,” says a BBC Scotland spokesperson.

The BBC in Scotland has also been responsible for its own soap River City, which somehow manages to meld the west of Scotland world of gangsters, drugs, domestic abuse and betrayal with some seriously good comedy dialogue. Such is the success story, River City is celebrating its 20th anniversary this year.

But, of course, there have been serious failures marked up along the way. We’ve had our share of tartan turkeys, with comedy series’ such as Mountain Goats, Snoddy and Empty. Looking back to failed drama, the vet series Young James Herriot was a three-legged donkey.

Yet, overall, Auntie has looked after Scotland well. “Seventy-six per cent of adults in Scotland think the BBC informs educates and entertains," say the Beeb.

What of the BBC’s future then? Will Nadine Dorries, the Wicked Witch of the South, have her way?

In 2016, then director-general Tony Hall made a pledge that the BBC “will never run adverts” in the UK as it would “harm the country’s broader broadcasting and news ecosystem”.

Hall added: “We have a good ecology in this country, ITV and Channel 4 are doing public service broadcasting but funded by ads, and Sky has subscribers. That works and I don’t think it is for us to get into the advertising market.”

The licence fee accounted for £3.52bn of the corporation’s total income of £4.94bn in 2019-20. Yet, it’s hard to see how the Conservative government will allow the broadcaster to survive in its present form. Given the austerity ahead, even staunch BBC supporters believe the corporation can make savings. Can flogging the likes of Top Gear to Malaysia help to keep presenter Paddy McGuiness in a job?

BBC director-general Tim Davie (salary; £450k) worries about losing talent to competitors, pointing out to MPs on the Digital, Culture, Media and Sport Committee that big names were “being poached” by other platforms including LBC and GB News.

The exiting has become more pronounced in recent days. Newsnight presenter Emily Maitlis, and North American reporter Jon Sopel are packing their personal belongings, reckoned to be joining Andrew Marr at LBC.

Many more have taken redundancy, retired, or accepted big money deals from commercial rivals. One source said, "It was like the BBC’s collective memory had walked out the door."

Will the BBC struggle without Andrew Marr, who couldn’t manage on £340k a year? Do we need Huw Edwards to the tune of £430k a year (He is said to be unhappy to take pay cuts.) Listeners complained at the loss of Radio Four luminary Eddie Mair to LBC. But would Match of the Day suffer if Gary took an early bath?

Andrew Neil, soon to join Channel 4, summed up the dilemma facing the corporation. “The BBC is trapped between the public mood and the licence fee. It is hard to use the licence fee to pay huge salaries.”

Yet, the loss of top presenters is said to be not all about salaries. The broadcasting world has watched the development of the personality presenter, those who wallow in the opportunity to editorialise such as Piers Morgan. ITN, for example, allows Tom Bradby a previously unheard of commentary voice.

In recent times however, Emily Maitlis has been censured by the BBC for her social media comments. Now, there is an argument that it shouldn’t matter if she is simply echoing the (liberal) voice the BBC should be using.

Yet should personal opinion be allowed a place in an institution which has been founded upon Reithian principles of balance? News legend John Humphrys argued that remaining impartial at the BBC was “a constraint”.

“When I freed myself after 51 years, the limit on what I could say, which is rightly there, lifted,” said Humphrys, who quit Radio 4’s Today in 2019.

There is little doubt Auntie will come to look different in upcoming years. Slimmer, certainly. Most likely less attractive. And perhaps carrying with her an air of concern, while wearing a hopeful, but rather forced smile.

Yet, there is a concern the BBC will cut on quality productions, drama, and documentaries. So, we get more quiz shows. Which means the broadcaster will become devalued. And this in turn will strengthen the argument for the licence to be scrapped.

Former BBC editor Richard Ayre asked recently what it actually meant to “need” the BBC.

“Will the earth still spin on its axis after the BBC ceases to exist?” he asked. “Clearly yes, but without Brian Cox we may not comprehend it quite so clearly. Will the day still dawn? Absolutely, but without the Today programme we may feel less equipped to face the day ahead.”

To paraphrase Joni Mitchell, we may not know what we’ve got ‘till it’s gone. We may not truly appreciate exquisite drama such as the Ben Wishaw hospital vehicle This Is Going to Hurt until it’s replaced with a sickly imitation. Or another cookery programme.

It’s only when Mair leaves Radio Four that we feel the loss. And we must ask how invaluable is the likes of Radio Four stablemate Clive Anderson who tidies up the arts’ world’s Loose Ends, or indeed, Tam Cowan and Stuart Cosgrove in Radio Scotland’s Off the Ball. It’s only when subs are played occasionally for either that we gain a huge sense of loss.

However, Martin Bell, the veteran correspondent turned independent MP, who joined BBC News in 1965, says he’s never known a time when the BBC was not in a state of crisis.

“Everything has always been critical, we’re always under siege,” he said. Despite this he described the broadcaster as being in relatively good shape. “We have a much-admired institution; admired hugely abroad and sometimes even at home.”

Will this admiration be powerful enough to win the fight for the licence fee? Do viewers and listeners see the big picture? The BBC is the sum of many parts, and many of those parts touch so many people’s lives in different ways. Do they appreciate the BBC is as much about Radio Scotland (with a weekly reach of 976,000 – more than 1 in 5 adults in Scotland) as it is Radio Two, or BBC4?

But there’s another dimension to the discussion about the future of the BBC. What will happen if Scotland breaks away from the UK? Will BBC Scotland continue to exist?

The answer is we don’t really know. We can only appreciate what we have now, and watch, listen and hope that quality remains – and we have continued value for money. As one of the country’s most revered philosophers, Jack Jarvis, once remarked, “When life hands you melons, make melonade.”