23 years in the BBC taught me this

At a conference last month, a couple of student-volunteers asked my advice on careers in the media. In a noisy party, tired after a long day, I thought “I’d better make this succinct.” So, as I prepare to leave the BBC after 23 years, here's what I told them I’d learned about storytelling.

You are the middleman. You stand between the subject of the story and the audience. On one hand the experts, authors, artists, athletes, politicians, ordinary people caught up in extraordinary events - for whom this story means the world. And on the other hand, the audience, who know nothing about the subject and probably care less.

Your job is to do justice to both sides - be true to the subject's story in a way makes the audience care.

That's it. Sounds simple but it's a constant juggling act, switching your attention back and forth between the two ends of the spectrum. Am I over-simplifying or getting lost in detail? Can I make this story more compelling or am I sensationalising it?

Three tricks I've learned in my attempts to be a fair middleman.

1. The power of a stupid question.

When I started my career, I would read up everything I could about my subject and make sure my questions showed it. I'd listen back to my interviews to find I'd asked really detailed questions, showing off my grasp of the topic. And my interviewee would go "yes, that's about right". I was happy at first (look how clever I am) but soon realised I had no decent soundbites. Worse still, I'd made no attempt to simplify the topic for an audience who weren't experts.

I realised it was better to ask a stupid question - on your audience's behalf. Embarrassing yes, when your interviewee takes you to task and puts you right. But if my interviewee could make this idiot understand, I in turn could make anyone else understand.

Swallow your pride, try "I’m sorry, I'm not sure I understand," and see how much better the answers get. 

 2. Your side of the story.

All young journalists dread the "death-knock" - approaching someone for interview when a relative has died in newsworthy circumstances. You are intruding on grief. How can you do this without growing a thick skin or becoming a nasty person? Well, this might sound trite and self-serving but... You are meeting someone at possibly the worst point in their life. They are trying to make sense of it. And so too are lots of news outlets and nosey amateurs on social media.

"This is your chance to tell your side of the story", is often the simplest and most powerful thing you can offer them. Better still, it's true.

 3. When in doubt, blame people at home.

Many times I found myself interviewing popular hate figures - criminals, anti-social teens, lousy parents and so on. TV is a conversational medium and you have to build a rapport to really get the contributor's story. Uncomfortable questions can destroy that rapport, so at the start of my career I found it hard to ask straight questions like "isn't it your fault as a parent that your kids are so badly behaved?" I'd end up humming and hah-ing my way through a compromise version. 

Then I discovered "people at home". You can ask any uncomfortable question you like by blaming people at home. See:

"People watching at home will be asking - isn't it your fault as a parent that your kids are so badly behaved?"

"People watching at home will be asking - why don't you just eat less junk food and take more exercise?" And so on.

Yes it's a cop out, but most of us aren't Jeremy Kyle. 

What matters is that you are representing the audience back to the interviewee. You’re still being true to your job as the fair middleman.

And that's the never-ending challenge. It's enough to keep anyone going in storytelling for 23 years without becoming jaded.