Chris Kane

I entirely agree that we must do all we can to protect digital terrestrial television for as long as it is needed. As a former radio presenter, I would argue that free radio could do with the same future protection. Colleagues have rightly made the case for the broadcasting medium; I want to make the case for the retailers, the engineers and the aerial installers—the people who deliver, set up and explain. My family has been in that line of work for nearly a century. My brother Michael runs Radio Music Store in Bannockburn, helped by Pam and Logan. He took over from our father, who retired last year. My father took over from his father in the ’70s, and my grandfather started the business in 1932, five years after the first BBC radio broadcasts came to Scotland. The store rented out its first television set in time for the very first TV broadcast in Scotland in March 1952. It was 7.30 pm, and people crowded around small, low-resolution screens to watch pictures of this place—the Houses of Parliament—and the River Thames, which were the first things to be seen. Only 2,730 television licences had been issued in Scotland at the time. By the 1980s, when I was a teenager helping out in the school holidays, televisions were everywhere. Rental remained popular because sets were costly and the analogue technology was forever blowing valves, tubes and circuits. But every town had engineers who could repair them. Most shops had backrooms that looked like laboratories, with people soldering components and bringing sets back to life. It was a skilled trade, common across the United Kingdom. Most of the businesses were small, family-run shops. Many were part of the Radio, Electrical and Television Retailers Association. Some were larger chains, but most were independents, rooted in their communities. Those communities were stronger for their presence. Today it is a different picture. Fewer retailers cover larger areas. Many are part of Euronics, a co-operative of independent retailers, my brother’s store among them. They are still embedded in their towns, but fewer in number and serving much larger areas. It is one thing to support the continued broadcasting of terrestrial signals, but what use is that if people cannot get hold of a television? What use is that if nobody is available to realign their aerial after a winter storm? What use is that if manufacturers insist a new set cannot be set up without connecting it to the internet first? My grandfather would have been horrified at how easily televisions worth hundreds of pounds are written off for want of a 50p fuse. Once upon a time, engineers repaired components. Now entire circuit boards are thrown away, as often are the televisions that they are in. Right-to-repair legislation has gone some way to address this, but where once we had a network of engineers in most towns making a living, now we have a handful of larger companies in urban areas and a patchwork of volunteer-run repair cafes. This is not just about nostalgia for a golden age of repair shops. It is about resilience. It is about making sure that older people, rural households and those without reliable broadband are not left behind. It is about ensuring that communities from Bannockburn to Bolton have someone nearby who can get them connected again when their set goes dark. Yes, let us protect terrestrial television broadcasting. But let us also support the ecosystem that makes it receivable: the shops, the engineers, the local support and the skills. Let us recognise that broadcasting also means receiving, and there are a lot of people needed to ensure that reception continues. Finally, a plea: shop local when you can because, like so much of the high street, you will miss it most when you need it and it is not there.