
Following yesterday’s nostalgia fest, I recently found more history in my parents’ loft: the 1983 edition of the IBA’s Television and Radio book. They used to publish one of these every year, providing an insight into the world of independent, not commercial, television and radio. Reading it now, it feels like a time capsule from a different era of broadcasting that seems familiar but, somehow, a bit off.
What’s most interesting about this edition is that it covers the birth of Channel Four (which came on air the month before publication, in November 1982) and the launch of TV-am, which followed in February 1983. It tells us that the senior presenting team at TV-am will be “informal and conversational”, while Channel Four is required to be complementary to ITV to avoid competing for ratings. The book is full of material about ITV shows. It was the era of ‘Tales of the Unexpected’, ‘The Gentle Touch’, and ‘The Jewel in the Crown’, ‘World in Action’ and ‘News at Ten’. I think only the last of those remains on screen regularly.
The word ‘soaps’ is not used; they are referred to as drama serials, which feels out of step with how television executives would discuss them today. The book says that “a tremendous amount of skill and thought needs to be put into a drama serial to make it so abidingly popular’, and we still regularly have Crossroads and Crown Court on the telly, while the word Farm remains firmly attached to Emmerdale.
What’s clear is that this is from an era when television had to be a bit of everything: plays, drama, serials, science, religion, children, light entertainment, and the arts. Yet, in the book’s introduction, we learn that the pace of technology development is quickening and the arrival of direct broadcast satellite services “now seems a likelihood for the middle of the decade” – and what a change to the broadcasting landscape that would bring. We’d end up with channels dedicated to every conceivable genre of programming.

There are 47 local radio stations listed in the book; many were yet to launch, and the Humberside, Maidstone, and Reigate services had only just been advertised, with no contractors selected. One struck me as odd: Northside Sound was listed for Londonderry, and, given I consumed everything I could about the world of local radio at the time, I was surprised that I couldn’t recall it. The forums at Digital Spy suggest that “Northside Sound failed to raise sufficient capital for its launch,” and that the frequencies were served by neighbouring Downtown Radio. Back in 1983, I would have proudly said I could name every independent local radio station. Perhaps that’s not true.
The book is full of behind-the-scenes technical information; I think the technical standards were paramount and, possibly, more important than the content to the public service mindset. I read that a television relay near Tintagel in Cornwall was built using wind, solar, and batteries as an experiment, which strikes me as a green agenda way ahead of its time. The text service that used to accompany commercial television, Oracle, has a couple of pages devoted to it. In 1983, this was very much cutting-edge technology.
What strikes me most, however, is not the memory of programmes or services provided, but the tone of the book. It’s very much from the era when broadcasting was a public service. All the radio and television companies were contractors to the IBA, which was ultimately responsible for regulation and transmission and answerable to Parliament for everything broadcast. The market was not necessarily the primary driver for these services. The world has moved on; we now prize competition and choice over fewer, broader services. We have more ways to receive content than ever. At over forty years old, this book is a wonderful snapshot of a time when television and radio were run for the public good.







