For a broadcaster obsessed with representation, the BBC missed one thing: the voters, says Claire Bullivant.
This week’s local elections should live in the political memory of Britain. Reform UK has just stormed local councils across the country like a hurricane through a cardboard village. Councils flipped. New Mayors were crowned. The political map dyed a new colour. It was, make no mistake, an electoral earthquake.
And yet, if you switched on the BBC, that cherished national broadcaster paid for by the ever-suffering British taxpayer, you’d be forgiven for thinking the only news that mattered was Prince Harry’s latest hug-a-thon with Charles.
Yes, seriously. Amidst the rubble of the political establishment, the BBC led its coverage yesterday with the Duke of Sussex’s vague yearning for reconciliation.
Harry wants a hug. Meanwhile, Britain just screamed for change.
You couldn’t script it… or perhaps you could, in the posh London editorial suites of Broadcasting House, where “diversity officers” probably outnumber war correspondents and the news is filtered through the latte foam of ideological orthodoxy. Reform UK had, for the first time, proven itself an electoral force. But at the BBC? Tumbleweed. Crickets. Deafening, willful silence.
It begs the question: Why does the BBC always bury good news for ‘the right’?
The answer is as plain as the diversity board on their HR website. The BBC is no longer a neutral conveyor of national news. It’s a narrative machine, manned by Oxbridge graduates who’d rather be caught dead than caught voting anything to the right of Keir Starmer. They are, if we may borrow from the classics, the “Wokerati”: a self-reinforcing loop of likeminded liberals convinced that only they know what’s good for the rest of us.
And what of Dame Andrea Jenkyns? Newly elected mayor for Lincolnshire and a very accomplished former Minister of State. Lincolnshire is in safe hands. But no, all the BBC seemed able to concentrate on was the fact she was a former Greggs worker and beauty queen. To normal people, this is a triumphant, very British story: self-made, resilient, unashamed of her roots. To the BBC? An excuse for sneering coverage, tone dripping with mockery. Instead of celebrating the people’s verdict, they went for the “gotcha” — as if serving sausage rolls makes you unfit for office. Spoiler: it doesn’t. It makes you human. It makes you relatable. It makes you British.
But of course, the Beeb doesn’t want relatable. It wants compliant. It wants correct. It wants narrative over news.
Behind the smiles and solemn tones are sneering snobs, utterly convinced they know better than you.
The licence fee? A joke. A relic. A regressive tax on the unwilling.
Because here’s the thing: Who is even watching the BBC anymore? Netflix, YouTube, X (formerly Twitter), Dan Wootton, podcasts, Substack… people are fleeing legacy media in droves. Why? Because they can smell the condescension. They can feel the contempt. They see the spin and they’ve had enough.
We are witnessing the slow-motion collapse of a once-great institution, bloated on public funds, arrogant beyond belief, and increasingly irrelevant to the people it’s supposed to serve. Reform’s success was a warning shot. The BBC’s response was to hide under the duvet.
They think they set the agenda. But the country just did. And it didn’t include Prince Harry’s therapy sessions.
For a broadcaster obsessed with representation, the BBC missed one thing: the voters.
Tick-tock, BBC. Tick-tock.
