A plea that may fall on deaf ears to maintain CBC TV in N.L.

Those of us who laboured in the CBC trenches years ago would realize that the announcements in recent months of massive layoffs at Mother Corp are nothing new.

From the mid-1980s through to the turn of the century for example — the era I know best and can discuss with some authority — CBC employees were always acutely and nervously aware of talk emanating from the corporation’s headquarters in Toronto of programming cuts. The socalled “regions”, in particular, were in constant danger of having to tolerate budgetary manoeuvres that would compromise their journalism.

N.L. SUCCESSES

Here in Newfoundland — despite our distinction for many years as arguably the most triumphant location in the CBC world in terms of ratings and reputation — we were not immune to the corporate guillotine. We were in a precarious position that required a desperate, near-constant battle to convince the powers that be in their upalong offices that our enviable status was worth preserving.

Back in the spring of 1997, I exploited the Governor General’s residence in Ottawa — a venue not normally associated with so-called fighting words — to plead with the CBC brass to give the Newfoundland television operations a break and recognize that our unparalleled stature within the corporation was a reason to make our region an exception in the ongoing purge of programs.

Such evidence of our achievements was there in palpable terms in Governor General Romeo Leblanc’s opulent chambers, as I was accepting an award on behalf of the Newfoundland CBC from the Canadian Journalism Foundation for Excellence in Journalism, exemplified by the programs “Here and Now”, “Soundings” and “Land and Sea”.

PLEADING WITH THE BRASS

The audience, by circumstance, was largely comprised of CBC management types. All of them were in attendance not to see me, God forbid, but to pay homage to the other person receiving accolades that evening, legendary broadcaster Peter Gzowski, who was being given a Lifetime Achievement Award from the Journalism Foundation.

But I took full advantage of my less-famous spot at the podium, and was blunt as I could be, telling the CBC bosses — my bosses, ultimately — that “I hope this award will prove that CBC programming doesn’t begin and end in Toronto.”

There were other unfiltered sections of my acceptance speech, according to a yellowing newspaper clipping from the Ottawa Citizen I dug out the other day, but, suffice to say, the message was clear: Leave us the hell alone; we deserve better.

DEAF EARS

There was some immediate satisfaction; when I returned to my seat, Gzowski leaned over and whispered: “Leave it to a Newfoundlander to steal my thunder.”

And there were a few token handshakes at a postceremony cocktail hour, a few words of praise for what some described as a “ballsy” speech, but the praise was mostly patronizing in nature and my pleas for restraint on the cuts ultimately fell on deaf ears.

Ironically, the three shows cited by the Journalism Foundation for excellence were the only survivors on the television front in Newfoundland, the destruction of the province’s rich history of CBC television programming having already begun years before.

THE CUTS

There were shows with high ratings all over the schedule that were axed, ranging from documentary programs like “On Camera”, midday and late night newscasts, and softer but popular offerings like “Coffee Break” and “Dialogue”. (The latter had a religious tone, leading many of my colleagues to joke that my name at the end of its credits as the executive producer would allow St. Peter at the Gate to ignore my enormous list of lifetime sinful acts).

And, of course, there was a slew of amazing arts and entertainment programs that Newfoundlanders viewed in enormous numbers: “Wonderful Grand Band”, “All Around the Circle”, “Up at Ours”, “Tales from Pigeon Inlet”, and others, all eventually relegated to a dusty corner of the CBC archives.

To re-emphasize, and unashamedly belabour the point, even as Newfoundland’s CBC television operations were winning a prestigious award on that Ottawa occasion, it was because of the exemplary content of the last remaining shows on what was once the most successful and eclectic array of television programming to be seen anywhere in the country.

“Soundings,” for example, despite attracting 75 per cent of the available television audience and winning a bundle of awards, was also shuffled aside because of budgetary restraints not long after the Canadian Journalism Foundation’s award.

PLUNGING RATINGS

Throughout the subsequent years, “Here and Now” and “Land and Sea” managed to hang on by their editorial fingernails.

But a combination of factors — some out of the control of the local journalism bosses and some quite within their control — has resulted in the supper-hour show, once the most popular of its type in the country, enduring an enormous plunge in ratings.

In its heyday, well over 200,000 per night tuned into “Here and Now”; it now plays second fiddle to NTV.

“Land and Sea” still produces good work, but I get the sense that it doesn’t have the “required viewing” status that gave the show such a cultural and iconic reputation.

And you have to wonder — at least I do — whether the day will come in the notso-distant future when even “Here and Now” and “Land and Sea” will disappear from the schedule.

And whether there would be even a whimper of protest in Newfoundland.

It has come to that.

A damn shame, if you ask me.