The Guardian view on the BBC: tough times ahead

The word “tough” appears three times in Tim Davie’s brief foreword to the BBC annual report published this week. Whether the repetition was conscious or not, the message is clear – the corporation is in for difficult times. Cuts loom. The future of the licence fee is in question. It suits many on the right to frame the BBC as a pernicious force, a key part of the supposed stranglehold on British culture retained by a cosmopolitan, left-leaning elite.

In some ways this is business as usual for the BBC. Since its foundation in 1922, it has withstood attacks from governments. Perhaps this is inevitable. The paradox at its heart is that its charter and licence fee are set by parti-pris politicians, but its own purpose is to be impartial. The seven-year tenure of Lord Hall, the outgoing director general, may have seemed bumpy – think of the tangles over the Scottish and Brexit referendums; over climate change, equal pay, and on- and off-screen diversity. But seen against the backdrop of the BBC’s history, it has actually been pretty smooth – he survived, after all, unlike his predecessor George Entwistle, who lasted 54 days; or Greg Dyke, who resigned in 2004 over coverage of “weapons of mass destruction”; or Alasdair Milne, forced out in 1987. It is easy to forget just how furiously BBC crises can blaze – and Boris Johnson’s recent intervention in the Last Night of the Proms row shows how gleefully and malevolently he may wish to fan the flames. Working out precisely what impartiality means in a world not just of party politics but culture wars will only get harder.

Trouble with politicians, arguments about impartiality – these have dogged the BBC from the beginning. The third area that has always been key to its existence is yet broader: its relationship with technology. The BBC began as a monopoly because of a scarcity of bandwidths available for civilian wireless operations; there were fears that a broadcasting free-for-all would prove chaotic. A licence fee attached to radio ownership (later TV ownership) was lit upon as a convenient way to fund the company. From Lord Reith’s point of view there were added benefits: the BBC would also uphold rigorous standards, and make good things available to the entire population, regardless of class.

Now the BBC exists in a world of technological plenty – there are no meaningful limits on how much material can be broadcast or streamed online. And so Netflix marches on inexorably. The most serious danger for the corporation, though, may reside in the fact that YouTube could soon overtake it as the media brand that 16- to 34-year-olds spend most of their time with. Once the BBC ceases to be a universal service, used by everyone in the UK, then it also loses the argument that the licence fee ought to be universally applied.

Will the BBC successfully continue to prove that it is a valuable anchor to British society, providing trusted news, information and entertainment of the highest quality? Mr Davie will indeed need to be tough-skinned and tough-minded. He must anticipate and defuse the government’s likely moves, while ferociously protecting the BBC’s public-service and cultural responsibilities. It is often said that the BBC has never faced such towering challenges. On this occasion, that is certainly true.