Tech to Transform podcast #27

Through my day job as a journalist for Infotec.news, I spoke to Rebecca Paddick at Mantis PR for the latest episode of their Tech to Transform podcast.

• Tech to Transform #27: What's on the horizon in tech reporting?

Blurb as follows:

With an imminent election, the potential impact of AI-generated content, and the continuous evolution of digital, how do reporters select their stories? And what role do technology providers play in that? 

They also discussed the ways journalism is evolving in response to advancements in big data analytics and visualisation tools.  

Looking at public sector tech, Simon explains how the growing importance of privacy and cybersecurity issues could impact the focus and approach of tech journalism in the near future. 

As sustainability becomes a more prominent concern, particularly in the tech industry, the pair discuss how journalists can raise awareness and foster dialogue around environmentally friendly practices and innovations. 

They also covered a few other topics, like the way technology can connect us all, how news should add light not noise, and… the science of teddy bears…   

Disgusted, Mary Whitehouse: Pick of the Week

Our documentary, Disgusted, Mary Whitehouse, has made tonight's Pick of the Week on Radio 4, presented by Geoff Lloyd. Hooray!

It's the second of the five radio documentaries made by me and my brother Thomas, and presented by Samira Ahmed, to have made Pick of the Week - the last was John Ruskin's Eurythmic Girls in 2017.

There's been a fair amount of press coverage of the documentary, too. We were mentioned on the cover of Radio Times, which also described the doc as "exceptional" (see below), and there were write-ups in BBC History Magazine, the Daily Express, Guardian, Herald, Daily Mail, Mail on Sunday, Daily Telegraph, Times, Sunday Times, and Total TV Guide.

As well as her blog post, Samira wrote a piece for the BBC website:

• BBC: Was moral campaigner Mary Whitehouse ahead of her time?

Generally, responses have been positive. Mary Whitehouse remains a controversial figure and there are those appalled we made the programme at all and refuse to listen (which is ironic, given what we cover in the documentary). There are those who did listen and still think we're wrong - some because we were too lenient, some because we were too harsh. 

In The Atlantic

Helen Lewis has written a very good overview in The Atlantic of Samira Ahmed's case against the BBC over pay discrimination. It includes a few words from me.

Picture by Aaron Chown / PA Wire / PA Images - ref: 47995752

Lady Vader

It has been an eventful week, with the Dr giving birth to a beautiful baby girl who, online, we'll call Lady Vader.

Given our history - assured, despite our best efforts, that we were unable to have children at all, then the birth of a baby girl who lived just eight days - it's nothing short of miraculous. There have been months of stress and terror, and of trying not to hope. Even when she was born, the Dr had to stay in hospital longer for tests (on the Dr not the baby) just to be sure. But now here she is, keeping us up until four in the morning demanding to be held.

We are all a whirl of emotions - though had been warned by people who've been through similar loss that the relief of a healthy baby would be mingled with sadness. But generally, cautiously, happy...

The Lord of Chaos is extremely pleased to be an older brother - and took great delight in helping choose her online and real-life names.

Actually meeting the baby has been really good for him, too: until now, all the worry and tension clouding the house has been around some abstract quantity. Now there's a real, mewling creature to tiptoe round. And when she cries, he knows - thanks to a magnificent book - to resignedly sigh, "Stupid baby!"

All this baby stuff has meant I'm a bit horribly behind on anything else - what my friends are up to, what work I should have finished, what it's like being out in company. But on Thursday, the Dr and Lady Vader wanted to sleep so I was dispatched from the hospital early and got to the launch of the Cartoon Museum's ASTOUNDING exhibition, Doctor Who: The Target Book Artwork, running till Sunday 15 May.

While there, me and m'colleague Dr Marek Kukula were accosted by this random punter insisting on a photo:

Doctor Who missing episodes - so what?

Doctor Who: The Macra Terror, part 4
One of the 106 missing episodes

At last, after months of rumour, the BBC have announced that an as yet undisclosed number of episodes of Doctor Who have been returned to the archive. So what? Why all the excitement? I've been asked this by a few people, so here's my best effort to explain.

Until this new find, there were 106 missing episodes of Doctor Who.

In the 50 years since Doctor Who began, 798 episodes have been broadcast, so just over 13% of all Doctor Who episodes were missing (798/106).

(The next episode, The Day of the Doctor, to be broadcast on 23 November, will be episode 799, the Christmas one after that episode 800).

Episode 798 was also the 102nd new episode since the series came back in 2005 – so there were more episodes missing than those starring Christopher Eccleston, David Tennant and Matt Smith put together.

(Yes, since it came back the episodes have been longer than they were in the 1960s, but still).

The 106 missing episodes were all from the 1960s, all from the first and second Doctors' adventures. There were 253 episodes broadcast in the 1960s; just over 40% of them were missing (253/106).

• A third of the first Doctor's episodes (44 of 134) were missing.
• More than half of the second Doctor's episodes (62 of 119) were missing.

The second Doctor appeared in 21 stories (comprising various numbers of episodes); just six of them were complete – and all but one of those from his last year in the series.

All six episodes of his first story, The Power of the Daleks, were missing, as was the preceding episode - The Tenth Planet part four – in which the Doctor regenerated for the first time.

The last complete story found was the four-episode The Tomb of the Cybermen in 1992; in the 21 years since then, just four more episodes - each from a different story - have been found, plus various brief clips.

Also missing were the first appearance of regular character Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart, the death of companion Sara Kingdom, the débuts of companions Katarina, Dodo and Jamie, and the departures of companions Vicki, Steven, Polly, Ben and Victoria.

We know an awful lot about the making of Doctor Who – it may be the most painstakingly researched TV show ever. Clips, photographs, scripts and other documents have helped us gain a sense of what missing episodes might have been like. Novelisations, soundtracks and the memories of those who watched or worked on the missing episodes have suggested which ones were particularly good or bad. But nothing compares to seeing the episodes themselves. Of the last two episodes discovered, Galaxy Four: Airlock included a bold speech-to-camera and a flashback scene, while The Underwater Menace part 2 made me entirely reevaluate the story.

We don't yet know how many episodes, or which ones, have been found, or if they include complete stories. That's fuelling speculation and excitement in the run-up to the announcement, which seems due to take place sometime tomorrow afternoon.

So, it's all pretty thrilling. Oh, and here's me on the missing episode least likely to be found.

"All you do is quote fact and figures..."

"'After all, we are in the entertainment business.'
- Ruper Murdoch on the Hitler diaries”

Quoted in Robert Harris, Selling Hitler, p. 293.

The Dr picked up Selling Hitler – The story of the Hitler diaries for 90p in a charity shop. The book was first published in 1986 and this battered paperback with Alexei Sayle mugging on the front was brought out in 1991, to coincide with, says the back cover, “the major five-part ITV drama series, starring Jonathan Pryce, Alan Bennett, Barry Humphries” and Sayle. Yet the true story of a huge publishing swindle seems particularly relevant now: how News International and other publishing companies were so consumed by commercial pressures that they, fatally, ran a major scoop despite serious questions about the source.

It's a fascinating story, Harris detailing the huge market in the 1970s for Nazi-related material. On telly there was Colditz and Secret Army, the papers were tracking down former SS officers to interview and/or bring to justice, and a trade in illicit knick-knacks that the Fuhrer might have touched was commanding ever higher prices – and ever more outlandish fakes. I was also struck by the context in which Hitler's diaries are set.

"It was clear that the only author who might remotely be compared Adolf Hitler was Henry Kissinger. His memoirs had been syndicated across the globe in 1979 in an intricate network of deals, simultaneous release dates and subsidiary rights, which was a wonder to behold. Hitler was probably bigger than Kissinger – 'hotter', as the Americans put it.”

Ibid., p. 210.

Forger Konrad Kujau produced a pile of diaries, hundreds of paintings, notes and manuscripts – most as if by Hitler, but also corroborating details from those in his inner circle. His previous forgeries had been already spotted by – or embarrassed – other historians and publishers. If the German magazine Stern and the other publishers had been more open with their haul and sought more opinions, the whole fraud would have collapsed much sooner.

Harris is good at explaining the slow erosion of the experts' doubts and hesitance. The reputation of Lord Dacre (Hugh Trevor-Roper) was seriously damaged by his authenticating the diaries as genuine, but we see how he was given little time and little access, and was apparently lied to. Those with the skills and experience to make judgments – scientists, historians, those who'd dealt with forgeries, journalists who'd seen this kind of thing before – were not let in on the secret or only in limited ways.

But even as the deals were being signed, on Wednesday, 20 April 1983, Philip Knightly at the Times listed his own concerns, based on having seen the costs incurred by faked Mussolini diaries in 1968. His concerns perfectly spell out the errors being made under commercial pressure to rush out the exclusive:

"Questions to consider:

1. What German academic experts have seen all the diaries? Has, for instance, the Institute of Contemporary History seen them?
2. What non-academic British experts have seen all the diaries? Has David Irving seen them?
3. How thoroughly has the vendor explained where the diaries have been all these years and why that have surfaced now: the fiftieth anniversary of Hitler's accession to power.

The crux of the matter is that secrecy and speed work for the con man. To mount a proper check would protect us but would not be acceptable to the vendor. We should insist on doing our own checks and not accept the checks of any other publishing organisation.”

Quoted in ibid., p. 290.

I've quoted Jacob Bronowski before describing Nazism as a faith not a science because it preferred certainty not awkward questions. The history of Agent Zigzag showed that the Nazi secret service were less effective than the British because the Nazis could not admit weaknesses of intelligence information. The same thing seems to be going on here – the various editors and management people were so keen on the publishing event of the century that they trapped themselves in the story. They wanted to believe so they ignored the doubts.

As it is, David Irving became the unlikely sceptic-hero who wouldn't stop asking awkward questions and pulled down the whole house of cards. A little like, I thought, Hugh Grant suddenly becoming the moral arbiter on phone-hacking, or John Prescott this week on Question Time being criticised for always bringing up “facts and figures” to support his case.

But I've also been fascinated by the insight into the culture at News International so soon after Murdoch had taken over the Times.

"In the spring of 1983 ... [Murdoch] ruled his empire in a manner not dissimilar to that which Hitler employed to run the Third Reich. His theory of management was Darwinian. His subordinates were left alone to run their various outposts of the company. Ruthlessness and drive were encouraged, slackness and inefficiency punished. Occasionally, Murdoch would swoop in to tackle a problem or exploit an opportunity; then he would disappear. He was, depending on your standing at any given moment, inspiring, friendly, disinterested or terrifying. He never tired of expansion, of pushing out the frontiers of his operation. 'Fundamentally,' Richard Searby, his closest adviser, was fond of remarking, 'Rupert's a fidget.'”

Ibid., pp. 263-4.

With publishing and broadcast subsidiaries, Murdoch was in prime position to fully exploit the diaries. Harris says Murdoch could be furious and sweary as well as ruthless. He was explosive when Stern reneged on a deal for the diaries after they'd shaken hands. And he refused to be played off against the buyers from Newsweek – instead, making a deal with Newsweek to buy the rights together and share them out to mutal advantage. When Stern tried again to bump up the price, Murdoch and Newsweek walked out – and Stern were forced to pursue them and offer a much lower price. It's an astonishing, shrewd and wily bit of dealing. And all, of course, in vain.

If there's one criticism of Harris' book, it's the lack of notes or references. A lot of his material comes from publicly accessible reports and inquiries that followed the swindle being exposed. But he also says in his acknowledgments that,

"Almost all this information came to me on the understanding that its various sources would not be identified publicly.”

Ibid., p. 9.

So we have to take his story on trust.

And I call myself a hack

To quote my wise chum Toby Hadoke, “Who needs facts when you've got an opinion?”

First, in the Independent, Gerard Gilbert slags off the forthcoming new series of Doctor Who without having seen it. He admires Russell T Davies – who is not involved in the forthcoming series – “not least in resisting what you might call a glossy Americanisation of the property, and in retaining the show's essential, and very British, spirit”, but then decides Doctor Who would be better were it, er, more like a glossy American TV show called Caprica.

“Caprica delves into some pretty meaty themes, from religion and racism to terrorism and what it means to be human, while it directly addresses current developments with the internet and its virtual worlds. It's light years more ambitious in scope than Doctor Who, and it's still not too late to catch.”

Except, recent Doctor Who – a fun family show as opposed to a tediously dour one for tediously dour grown-ups – has also covered religion (the faith of people in Gridlock, the Doctor meeting the devil in The Satan Pit), racism (in the experiences of Martha Jones, but also in the way humanity treats aliens), terrorism (from the Slitheen attack on London to the Government deciding which children to give to the aliens in Torchwood: Children of Earth), what it means to be human (all of Season 3, especially Human Nature / Family of Blood) and the future of the internet (come on, the Doctor Who did that in 1966).

The article is petty, lazy and factually wrong. The comments that follow it afford the usual edifying spectacle of the public speaking their brains, but include a beautifully polite reply from Doctor Who's producer Piers Wenger.

Second, the Dr took me to see The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo this afternoon. She'd read the book (and is on to book three now) but I have not. So obviously I'm now qualified to lecture on both.

No, that would be ridiculous wouldn't it? So I'm baffled by Viv Groskop's blog for the Guardian (an edited version also appeared in print in the Review section yesterday). Groskop admits avoiding the book to begin with because of the hype.

“I imagined clichés and extreme violence. I was pleasantly surprised, then, to discover it is neither formulaic nor disturbingly graphic. And it was indeed Larsson's take on feminism that made it stand out as an original read.”

So she liked it, then? But Groskop goes on to quote from a number of reviewers who found the book sexist or misogynistic – though, note, that's not the view Groskop herself had of the book. She then says the film, which she has not seen, has been “universally panned”, and quotes criticisms of “Larsson's misogynistic fantasies” and scenes “glibly indulgent of those visual horrors”. Groskop concludes:

“In the novel Larsson spares us many graphic descriptions, leaving a lot of the worst to our imagination. It seems, then, that the film has betrayed not only some of the book's original subtlety but also its feminism. I waited too long to read the book. I think I'll give the film a miss altogether.”

Again, the argument is based on not having seen the subject. Having seen the film, I thought it showed remarkable restraint in its depictions of violence. We know what's been done but the camera avoids explicit detail. The events are not pleasant, but the point seems to be that the specific brutality of the killer here is part of a wider misogyny. The violence done to women and men – it is done to both – is shocking and horrific, but never celebrated or dwelt on. It's really not there as titillation.

The Dr also feels the book contextualises the violence – before each chapter Larsson provides real statistics on domestic abuse and assaults on women in Sweden. The point made is that though the events are fictional, these are not “misogynistic fantasies” but grounded in reality. Liberals, says the Dr, tend to think of Scandinavian countries as having all the answers, but this book and things like Wallander suggest something nasty lurking under the surface. The secrets of one rich and influential family stand for the whole country. That's what makes it so disturbing.

Groskop says she took from the book the message that, “gender is irrelevant”. But I wonder whether there'd be anything like this criticism had Larsson been (or written under a pseudonym as) a woman.

For a more sensible opinion, see Nyssa's review of book and film.

Will scrawl for food

Not dead, just busy with all manner of efforts to be gainfully employed. Freelancing involves a lot of pitching and begging and poking of feet into doors, but in the last few months my hit rate has been down.

Got plenty of work on, and am working every spare moment, but not all of it's very highly paid. Then there's the projects which get cancelled when I'm already well into them, or the fun discussions after delivery where it turns out the bosses can't pay all that they said.

This sort of thing has gone on since I went freelance back in 2002, but it seems to be happening a lot more in the Current Climate. There seem to be far more people gunning for the jobs, and that can even mean the applications process is all much more complicated so as to ward some of these people off.

But a desperate Tweet earlier this week has paid off rather nicely, and I've spent a busy few days pitching stuff every which way. Got some meetings and things coming up, too, so it's all looking a bit more hopeful.

In the meantime, I had a lovely afternoon at the NFT on Saturday, with Bernard Cribbins on fine form as he entertained a packed cinema mostly full of geeks. I think I must have known half the people there, and got to say "Wotcher" to most of them. Also chastely admired a pretty lady two rows in front, before realising it was Channel 4 News' Samira Ahmed.

On Sunday, the Dr dragged me from the typing to go see Sherlock Holmes. Must admit I dragged my feet a bit - I've avoided Guy Ritchie since Revolver [my review of which has vanished from the Internet; I shall look into that]. But it's a smart, exciting and funny film, packed with glorious details, from the works of Conan-Doyle himself and Victoriana. The House of Lords is too wide, and an insider would spot that it's got the wrong walls and ceiling. And Tower Bridge was built in 1894, so some years after Holmes' fateful adventure with the chap with chalk on his lapel. But that's me desperately trying to find fault with the thing. Go see; it's really good.

Oh, and the church down the road is now extolling that Jedward is a lot like the story of Jesus:

Prevarication

The BBC news site it full of interesting stuff right this minute (or perhaps it's just greener than the grass of my own writing chores...).

Lisa Jardine has written a very sensible analysis of the statistics relating to knife crime, which undercuts the hyperbolic furore whirling through the papers. I'm not for a moment downplaying the awfulness of any of the incidents themselves, but there's often a desperate streak in newspapers, playing up base urges of greed and fear to get us to notice.

(They of course argue that's it their job just to report stuff as widely as possible, that news is effectively a form of entertainment. But if the media won't take responsibility for the ethical value of their efforts, why should those they judge?)

Then there's this extraordinary time-lapse film from space of the moon circling the Earth. And the rediscovered dance track by Delia Derbyshire.

Nimbos let me know, since I had missed it, that Jamie Hewlett's Monkey will be the BBC's mascot for the Olympics, which is just a world of cool. A blog post from May explains the thinking and background, but misses off just how splendiferous Hewlett's stuff is. Beside the giddy joy of Tank Girl, I loved his work for Senseless Things - and still cherish the edition of Deadline which featured a two-page strip featuring the same characters. And then there was Hewligan's Haircut. And Fireball. And and and and...

And then Peter mentioned his friend Roo Reynolds - who is about to join the BBC - and especially his geeky lecture on how Lego is full of WIN.

All this and Dr Horrible. How am I meant to get any work done?