Tim Johns

Well, tell them roughly what you’re going to ask them, but don’t give them precise questions.

I post this because I’ve noticed that for almost every interview I’ve ever given to journalism or media students, they’ve tried to tell me beforehand the exact questions they’ll want to ask me in the interview. While I may only be giving interviews about non-political subjects such as Lincoln Shorts, BBC Introducing or student radio, the principles about briefing a guest remain.

My frustration lies with the fact that I feel like students are routinely taught to hand over interview questions in advance. I work full-time in radio and behind the microphone I’m careful not to hand over specific questions, so when I’m in front of the mic there’s a certain annoyance when question-handing-over occurs.

Imagine if Michael Howard had been handed the precise questions for this interview before he agreed to go on air…

The beauty of questions not being prescribed is that things like this can happen. 

Repeatedly (when I’ve been the interviewee, booked by student journalists) I’ve experienced an interview setup that’s something like this (because it’s been taught that way):

1) Email contributor, ask if they’ll be interviewed

2) If they say yes, decide what you will ask them and email them the questions

3) Go and interview them

Points one and three are marvellous, number two is not.

Yes, it’s a difficult line to tread. The person you’re interviewing needs to know what the interview’s about. They need to know the sort of thing they will be asked. They need to know if they will have to debate the subject with someone else. They need to understand where the conversation could go and what topics could be discussed. You need to make sure they’re clear on the nature of the interview and the interviewer (for example you shouldn’t tell them it’ll be a fluffy interview where they can promote their goat-hairdressing business if in fact you’re planning to pit them against Jeremy Paxman who’s set to make the case for how goat-hairdressing businesses are tearing the UK apart).

But – it’s remarkably rare you would ever give your interviewee a precise list of questions. It doesn’t (for the most part) happen in the professional broadcasting world, so if you’re ever taught that’s what you should do, well, it’s wrong.

It needs a bit of common sense; most of the above can usually be dealt with very easily. For example, if you interview a local councillor for a community radio station about a sponsored charity walk they’re doing, you probably just need to say “can I interview you about your walk?”. If you’re trying to set up the head of a local NHS trust to debate abortion ethics with someone else you’re going to have to give them a lot more detail. But for neither of those examples should precise questions be handed out.

Biased as I may be, I think the BBC’s Editorial Guidelines have much wisdom scattered throughout them. On this topic, I believe this section sums things up perfectly regarding potential guests:

The more significant their contribution, the more detail we should provide. We should normally expect to explain the following:

• The kind of contribution they are expected to make. We should tell them in advance about the range of views being represented in the specific content to which they are contributing and, wherever possible, the names of other likely contributors
• We can only give a broad outline of question areas because the direction the interview takes will be dependent on what is said

You can read more about that here – and in fact the entire guidelines are online here.

Allowing an interview the possibility of going anywhere is all part of a democratic society with a strong, independent broadcast and print media. If that’s not enough for you, there’s one final reason why you shouldn’t give precise questions to your guest if you work in radio or video:

Your interviewee will often sound BORING.

If they’re used to being interviewed, like the head of a prominent charity or a local MP might be, it won’t be a problem. But most people aren’t used to being interviewed, and when given a set of specific questions will prepare a set of specific answers, and churn them out on tape or on camera like robots. Boring robots. Way more boring than the ones in ‘I, Robot’ feat. Will Smith. And if you’re broadcasting you don’t want to be boring.

So keep the specific questions to yourself.

Many working in radio, including broadcast journalists, are pretty awful at spelling and grammar. I’m not perfect so don’t shoot me down if I make a mistake in this post…(though I am totally asking for it).

Plenty struggle with the ol’ spelling thing, especially when working under pressure or at speed. That’s fine. But I’ve also met plenty who think it’s ok to be lax because it’s ‘just for radio’. This seems to make them more likely not to check what they’ve written or to be lazy about trying to improve.

I’m including here spelling accuracy – that is – making sure you’re spelling people’s names correctly and getting details like job-titles perfect.

Just cos’ your working in radio its, not ok too get the SPAG all bad.

There are many reasons why, but here are just a few.

Getting handed this last-minute note as a presenter would suck

Social media

Twitter and Facebook are the obvious examples.

You write up some research on a music track for radio-play and spell the artist’s name wrong. Someone else could have a look at what you’ve done and tweet that.

You get the spelling wrong of a place name in a news bulletin. Before you know it someone’s looked at your script and tweeted it from your station’s official account.

You may work in radio but it’s increasingly likely that you’ll also write tweets and Facebook messages on official accounts yourself. Sloppy spelling, missing capital letters and strange punctuation makes your brand look rubbish, unprofessional and less authoritative, perhaps especially if it’s journalism-based.

Who knows where your words will end up

This is especially true of any organisation with multiple outlets, but my example is specific to the BBC, where I have the most experience.

We use a shared bit of software across all of BBC News. Anyone can read what I write in a radio script. I can read the scripts of others.  And you’ve no idea where your words could end up. Once you’ve saved something in a ‘greened’ script (ie. ready for broadcast) it’s assumed that it encompasses all the BBC values of accuracy.

Let’s say I’m working in an empty BBC newsroom for a local radio station on a Sunday evening when there’s a MASSIVE local fire. I write a quick bit of copy for the regional news bulletin. All I want to do is be the first, the quickest with the information. In my three lines I misspell the name of the fire officer who told me they were “working hard to control the fire”, because I don’t have time to check the spelling. I know how it’s pronounced so I give it my best guess, because it’s ‘just for radio’.

Despite the fact I’m sitting alone in a small office, and it’s been successfully read on air to a few thousand people, suddenly what I’ve written starts appearing elsewhere. There it is on the ticker on the BBC News Channel. Then BBC Breaking News have tweeted the quote. Then BBC News Online have written an article. Then it’s on 5Live and they’re tweeting it. And so on. Suddenly something with the wrong spelling has spread to the entire BBC network.

Sight-reading on air

A presenter reading stuff on air from a script they’ve never seen before is called sight-reading.

Whether you’re a producer, journalist, broadcast assistant or manager: mess up your spelling and grammar, and sight-reading becomes a whole lot more difficult for the presenter. What goes out on air can then sound a whole lot worse. And someone probably gets annoyed at you.

Even if what you’ve written sounds phonetically right, it can mess up the train of thought and lead to awkward uncertainty when read on air.  ‘Their’ instead of ‘there’ and ‘its’ instead of ‘it’s’ suddenly changes the meaning of a sentence and to a shrewd presenter makes it a lot more difficult to make sense of a sentence.

And an misplaced, comma can make a sentence, sound rediculous when, read, allowed.

Would you have read that last sentence out loud perfectly the first time you saw it, if you were also on air at the time?

What others think of you

I generally find those working in radio to be helpful, supportive and accommodating, but equally ruthless when help and support is not deserved.

If you struggle with spelling and grammar and say so, or perhaps do your best despite dyslexia, no-one’s going to mind. But if you’re of the opinion that it’s not a top priority because ‘it’s just radio’ you’ll be judged pretty quickly by some colleagues, bosses and potential employers.

If in doubt, take your time, double-check what you’ve written, and don’t worry about asking someone else to check it too. Someone can make a snap decision about your ability simply based on how you’ve written an email to them asking about work experience. If you’re continually making mistakes working as a broadcast journalist or senior producer the damage can be worse.

I’ll be honest. Unless it’s for something fun I hate doing vox pops. But sometimes they’re a necessary evil.

Vox populi – ‘Voice of the People’ (or for broadcasting new-starters often considered ‘a boring painful waste of time’)

Though overused and sometimes a symptom of lazy journalism, the humble vox pop has its place in broadcasting and is a basic tool that is here to stay.

I’ve had the honour (?!) of dispatching many a student on work experience to go and grab a vox pop. It’s amazing how much of an impression you can make by either doing one really well, or really badly.

But rather than list what makes a vox good or bad (because that depends on exactly what the subject and brief is), below are some tips for getting started with one in the first place that tend to work for me.

So often I’ve seen people meekly approach members of the public who mostly keep walking, and when they do stop are put off by the way what’s about to happen is sold to them. An hour later the poor vox-popper will still be standing in the cold.

Depending on the topic and how many people are about, you should be able to easily grab what you need in 10-20 minutes.

1. It’s all about the approach. I’ll let myself explain…

2. Get straight in with the question

I know that on many media and journalism courses across the country the ‘method’ of getting into a vox is taught as something along the lines of…

– Ask a member of the public if they can spare a moment

– Explain where you’re from

– Explain the subject you are covering and see if they have an opinion on the matter

– Ask if they’re willing to be recorded

– Hit record, ask them the question again, record the answer

Don’t do this. You want to get to the point where you’re recording a decent answer as quickly as possible, otherwise you’re just wasting time.

After getting someone’s attention, you want to be straight in there with “I’m from x, and I’m just asking everyone around here what they think about dog’s shoes”, by which point you’re already recording (because you pressed record as you approached them) with the microphone in their face.

However – once you’ve recorded something that you think could be broadcast, you need to be confident that the person you’ve recorded understands what they need to. For most people having a microphone in their face is explanation enough that they’re being recorded, and by saying as you leave “thank you, that’ll be part of x programme at x time” is generally enough.

There’s no reason you can’t be both quick (almost ruthless) with a vox but also entirely professional and polite throughout.

 3. Don’t make them feel singled out

Point #2 contained a really key line. When I say to someone “I’m from x, and I’m just asking everyone around here what they think about dog’s shoes”, a vital part of that is ‘everyone around here’.

By mentioning that you’re asking ‘everyone’, I’ve found a distinct difference in people’s concern at suddenly being asked a question on tape. They tend to immediately grasp that they’re not being singled out and that they’re just adding to a pile of opinion.

If there’s still concern on their face, a follow up of “don’t worry, I don’t need your name or anything” tends to alleviate their worries.

 4. Milk the good ones (not literally)

So often I’ve heard the raw recording of a vox someone’s done for me where they’ve got a great speaker, who hasn’t quite worded their answer right. And it’s unusable.

If you’ve got someone with a strong opinion and who’s stopped to talk to you, make the most of them. Don’t be afraid to ask the same question twice. Three times. Four. Don’t worry about wasting their time – they’ll tell you if that’s the case.

Don’t be afraid to guide them with tricks like “repeat after me and finish the sentence: ‘I like dog’s shoes because'”. So long as you’re not guiding their thoughts or putting words in their mouth there’s nothing wrong with pursuing the same question until you have them voicing their opinion in the clearest and strongest way.

And while we’re at it, here’s everything a vox pop shouldn’t be.

It was created as some sort of jokey test vox when Radio Lincolnshire launched, broadcast for fun on the station’s first birthday.

My first post on this blog is dedicated to the wonderful world of student radio. And rightly so. For me it was the best fun ever, provided the best training ever, and I’m confident I wouldn’t be where I am today without it.

WHERE DO I START in trying to justify why it’s ‘the best’?! I could write a (short) book on the matter, but that won’t hold your attention, so I’ll try and pick out just five points. They’re mostly based on why student radio could be good for your career, rather than all the creative and fun reasons…

Me being a ‘student radio type’ on Edinburgh Fresh Air

1. It’s where the big names look for new talent.

It’s not a very romantic notion of why you should partake in student radio, but it’s true. There’s no other voluntary radio sector that has the remarkable attention from industry giants that student radio does. Radio budgets are tight. So it says a lot when BBC Radio 1 and Global Radio compete over who should pay out as main sponsor of the awards, only to decide it’s mutually beneficial to sign a three-year deal costing them thousands every year for the honour of sharing it.

It’s not just them, each award category has a big-name sponsor and big-name interest. At a time when radio presenters are newly-employed on salaries of peanuts and cuts are being made wherever possible – those very same employers line up to financially support what they see as a vital source of talent for the future of their industry.

2. Experience.

Simple. The more time you spend doing radio the better you’ll be at it. Sure, it’s helpful to have guidance and teaching along the way where possible, but it’s the hours of creating terrible features, conducting awful interviews and making horribly-bad radio (which at the time you think is great) which is invaluable. Being told how to make radio, or taking a course where you’re allowed one hour structured broadcasting a week – is not enough.

Student radio can provide hours of airtime that you can fill with all your early mistakes, and give you the freedom to be excited about what you’re doing and make you want to learn more and practice more. There are no professional radio stations, and remarkably few community and hospital station that afford you such true freedom (though don’t get me wrong – community and hospital radio are remarkably important in many of the same ways student radio is).

3. Networking. Or…accidental networking.

A lot of radio people say…

“It’s not what you know, it’s who you know”.

No. Of course not. When wheeling out that phrase most forget to mention that you have to have skill and ability before people take notice of you – networking can’t solve everything. However there is, in radio or pretty much any industry, still plenty to be said for who you know. Perhaps a better phrase would be…

“If you’re very good at radio, having a good network of people in the industry may well help your career at some point”.

It’s not so catchy, but I think it’s better. So let’s assume you’ve done some student radio and become pretty good at some radio-type-skills. It’s astonishing how by doing student radio, attending a student radio conference or two, heading along to the awards and so on – you can accidentally build up an incredible network of contacts. At the time it may just seem like ‘I said hello to Jim from LSR’ or ‘I ended up meeting that tech-bloke from Xpress Radio’, but have enough of those little connections and five years later you realise you sort-of know half the radio industry.

4. It’s full of DO-ERS and POTENTIAL!

People are remarkably lazy. Some think they can sign up to a media course and magic up a media career. Of course, you need some experience to go alongside it. To get on in student radio you have to at least bother to sign up, make a demo, turn up for a radio show (and hopefully prepare it too) on a voluntary basis. Those who are really passionate end up entering awards and getting involved with SRA stuff.

So almost by default you end up with a bunch of people who are passionate and motivated about radio, which is perhaps why if you’re involved in student radio you probably know someone right now (or a few people) who will go on to a paid radio or media career. So just by being part of that group you’ve improved your chances!

5. It’s fun.

The old ones are the best eh? But yeah, it’s masses of fun. The friends, the parties, the ridiculous radio programmes and the incredible achievements you’re so proud of because you feel like you gave Radio 1 a run for their money despite your £10 budget.

Hang on though – obviously I’m totally biased. But if you want to work in radio and are in any doubt as to whether getting involved in student radio is worth it – it is. And I’m not just talking about your local station, embrace the Student Radio Association too, and all it has to offer!

What your favourite bit about student radio?