A magisterial pixie

Press, 6 March 1978, Page 15

A magisterial pixie

By

A. K. GRANT

Brian Priestley perches on his “News Stand” like a magisterial pixie on a toadstool and administers rebukes, seldom stinging, and praise, not always heartfelt, to the nation’s newspapers. There is a place for this sort of programme, and Mr Priestley, as head of the school of journalism at the University of Canterbury, is well qualified to occupy it. But being qualified to do a job is one thing; the way you go about it is another. Last Friday, for instance, the meat of his programme consisted of a review of editorial opinion about the issues raised by the recent judgment of Mr Justice Chilwell on the subject of random testing and Ministerial interpretations of the law. Now for readers in one part of the country it is interesting to know what newspapers in other parts are saying. But, of course, all Mr Priestley had time to do was to get Bryan Allpress and his oppo to read a few lines from one editorial, followed by a few lines from another editorial. This is inevitable in a programme which lasts only 15 minutes. But to say it is inevitable is not to say it is satisfactory; in particular, it gives one no chance to assess' the structures of argument within the editorials from which the extracts are being taken. One is no wiser at the end of the process, except that one has learned that there is a diversity of editorial opini ion on the particular subject, 'which is a good thing. Although Mr Priestley does not appear to think so.

as far as sports writing is concerned. He chided, in a good-humoured way, the English cricket writers for presenting varied accounts of England’s downfall in the first test at Wellington. He suggested, in effect, that they shoull all get in step. But the point here, surely, is that cricket writers are not so much reporters as reviewers. To be sure, they are bound to report the basic events in a particular match. But people read them for their subjective assessment of those events. Unanimity of opinion with regard to sporting events is no more desirable than uniform newspaper critiques of books, films, or television programmes about newspapers. I am sceptical of the value of Mr Priestley’s attempt to involve viewers in his programme, by answering such inane questions as why don’t the newspapers report the following day everything that has been on the radio the day before? There is no time on Mr Priestley’s programme for this sort of thing, if he is going to do his real job properly. But, '“We’ll fix them”, he chirpily assured one correspondent; and this approach, combined with the fact that Mr Priestley has recently been on the cover of the “Listener," and that he has announced in this newspaper that more people now approach him on the street than when he was merely on “The Media,” indicates to me a desire on Mr Priestley’s part to become that most redundant of objects, a Television Personality.