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Ottawa won't close down the CBC, no matter how many contributors to the National Post yearn to see the end of it. A minority government could never stand the storm of public anger that would follow, egged on by an army of self-righteous journalistic defenders.
CBC viewers and listeners, it's true, are a minority, but even if only 100,000 Canadians actually love it, 100,000 Canadians can make an unbearable amount of noise, particularly if they believe they are on the side of virtue, truth and "Canadian values." Even governments with large majorities, while despising the CBC for chronic unfairness, have never seriously threatened its existence. They have grudgingly allowed it to remain alive--though keeping it, from the CBC's point of view, on starvation rations.
That also means that Ottawa won't substantially increase the CBC's funds in the imaginable future, no matter how much the company's president begs. A generous grant to the CBC in this economic era would be even more politically troublesome than killing it, even if Stephen Harper wanted to be generous.
For now, at least, change will have to come from inside. That's just as well, because that's where the problems lie. The most profound failures, in style and attitude and ambition, can be found among CBC employees, both junior and senior, and the corporate culture they have jointly created. It's true the government sometimes interferes and has always burdened the corporation with far more tasks than it can be expected to accomplish. But that's nothing beside the self-created atmosphere in which CBC employees work.
The most profound failures, in style and attitude and ambition, can be found among CBC employees, both junior and senior, and the corporate culture they have jointly created.
They are over-managed and over-manipulated, wretched servants of focus groups and demography charts. So far as a viewer and a listener can tell, they are not excited about their work and do not expect that we will be. Many crucial figures among them are pure managers who could work anywhere with equal satisfaction.
They lack the animation that comes from a belief that what you are doing is unique and valuable.
In mass communications, which demands spontaneity and imagination, they show little originality and barely a hint of daring. This comes through when they acknowledge, condescendingly, that they are appealing to the young. The melancholy results usually appear to be the work of 30-year-olds instructed by 45-year-olds on how to appeal to 20-year-olds.
Broadcasters who came to the CBC with dreams of making great programs instead find themselves conscripted into a nightmare of sclerotic bureaucracy in which everything matters more than broadcasting. What counts most is the endless, baffling shuffle of titles and responsibilities, a byzantine turf warfare.
To work at the CBC is to live in a world of memos, usually concocted by bosses whose insecurity dictates that they write in incomprehensible gibberish. Memos explain that the bosses want to "Ensure that all managers have development plans based on leadership competencies according to identified timelines," which are "part of ongoing efforts to better align resources and workflow with evolving needs." (I've lifted two sentences from two different--but both actual--CBC memos.) The tone is deadening, joyless, self-defeating.
We can see the results on The National, the news flagship of CBC television, an emblem of all that's wrong. The journalists delivering the news are afflicted with an emotional flatness that seems to be built into the regulations. Feeling has been so carefully banished that every story is delivered in the same tone, right down to the sing-song ending. Journalists manage a thin smile when there's an item intended to be amusing and pull a long face when describing death. That's their emotional range, A to B. They apparently imitate the sternest and dullest of the U. S. network journalists. They look as if they're terrified that something bad will happen--not in the news, but to them.
Richard Stursberg, the vice-president of English-language services, knows the CBC culture has to change and hopes to lead the revival. Despite his curious habit of declaring programming triumphs that nobody else has noticed, he's emerged as an average executive with average plans whose results will be average, if that. The only hope of those dreaming about a resurrected CBC is that there are fresh and largely unknown talents sprouting inside the corporation and that their up-from-below pressure will eventually work serious changes. No one else is going to do it.
David Frum is a resident fellow at AEI.