The Worst of Both Worlds?

W l Y I-I that bulldog tenacity which excites a universal awe, that incomparably obstinate, persistent, and unyielding fixedness of mind, the British people seem to have set themselves resolutely to choose the worst of both worlds. This is true in economics, where they are sufficiently socialistic to prevent the capitalist system from working at its best, but insufficiently so to allow any socialist order to operate. It is true in military affairs, where they are too weak to move easily as a Great Power, and too strong (now having the Bomb) to enjoy the relative freedom of action of a small one. It is true in education, where they are too proud to "lower standards" so as to allow for mass higher education, but not humble nough to be satisfied with the present mechanism that produces a small, well-trained 61ite. Above all, perhaps, it is true in the sphere of culture to which they deny private philanthropy (by virtue of heavy taxation) while begrudging public support, and which they protect from the" importunities of commercialism while withholding from it the subsidies that would permit it otherwise to survive. The recent decision of the B.B.C. to emasculate its Third Programme and Home Service in favour of light entertainment can only be understood against this background. It certainly cannot be understood in and of itself, and the B.B.C. has yet to present any kind of comprehensible defence of its new course. Its statements ,h, ave been bl,a.nd, vague, and slighdy sinister-reassurances ’ that have prompted T. S. Eliot to remark: "I am always filled with alarm when I rcad’a public statement by anyone in authority, the sense of which I fail utterly to grasp." And, really, what could it say? There is no real premeditation behind its action; only the dark, compulsive repetition of a disastrous habit, which, refusing to choose between evils, takes the pair. As things now stand, the B.B.C. is on the way to denying the grounds of its very existence, under the plea that it must do this to survive. If it is primarily light entertainment that is to be distributed, what on earth does one want a government monopoly for? It would be more sensible to make radio commercial and com~a etitive: the entertainment would be more vish, since the advertising agencies have more money to spend on this. than does the Treasury,. and it needn’t cost the listener a penny in licence fees. More important: some of the programmes at least would probably be on a much higher level, assuming that the thoroughly commercial American system of sponsored broadcasting were adopted; many of the giant industrial firms, for whom advertising is primarily a matter of creating goodwill, would be pleased to have their names associated with symphonies, operas, good drama,, and other programmes that reach an influenual--if small--part of the population. On the other hand, there is everything to be said for the continuance of the B.B.C. monopoly it it justifies itself in terms of its educational mission. This mission is not merely to help improve men’s minds. It is far weightier than that. It is to serve as a standing proof that men’s minds can be improved, and a perpetual reminder that they ought to be improved. Just how necessary this reminder is, may be gathered from a recent incident. In the current proceedings against the London Library, whose taxexempt status the Board of Inland Revenue is challenging, the representative of this Board, a Mr. S. R. Davies, said: