ABSTRACT
Regional accents are part of what gives broadcasting today its richness and texture. Broadcasting should reflect the diversity of national life, and thank goodness things have changed a great deal since I began broadcasting. Local radio, which started in the 1970s, was one of the major factors for change, even sometimes positively discriminating to encourage local accents onto the air. Inevitably, those local stations uncovered a pool of untapped talent who eventually moved on to national broadcasting, and so the stranglehold of the Home Counties BBC accent was at last broken. It is almost unbelievable now to remember how tight that stranglehold once was. In 1974, I joined the BBC’s World and External Services at Bush House, as a trainee sound technician. All trainees then were given a voice test, to discover if they had hidden potential as broadcasters. The voice coach at Bush House was a formidable woman called Fanny McCleod, who would listen as you read a short script, then grade your voice. I forget the precise nuances of the grading system, but basically we interpreted Grade One as a passport to future promotion: you would be considered good enough to try out for an announcer or newsreader’s job. Grade Two suggested you had an acceptable voice and would be permitted to make
the occasional on-air announcement, along the lines of ‘This is London. …’ Grade Three implied you really were not suitable voice material and only in the event of a nuclear disaster, leaving just you and a cleaner with a cleft palate alive in the building, would you be allowed on air. I was fairly proud of my voice in those days, having been the star in school drama productions. Plenty of people had told me I made a pleasant sound, so I expected to be instantly talent-spotted and labelled Grade One. Imagine my horror when Fanny McCleod scribbled a quick note on her pad, peered over her spectacles at me, and announced ‘Grade Three’. ‘Three? ’ I squawked somewhat unmusically. ‘But why?’ ‘My dear’, she pronounced with as much contempt as she could muster, ‘you come from Birmingham’. It transpired that the giveaway was the way I pronounced words ending with ‘… ing’. Midlanders tend to rather overdo the ‘ng’, especially on words like ‘hanging’ or ‘singing’. To this day, it is the only trace of the Midlands in my voice and though it’s not the prettiest sound, I have no desire to lose it. It was enough then though to disqualify me from announcing for the World Service. Fanny McCleod is long gone, and nowadays if I fail to get a voice job the chances are it is because someone thinks I don’t have enough of a regional accent! Regional voices are now hugely fashionable. First came a wave of Irish accents, snapping up some of the plum presenting jobs in national radio and TV. Next the Scots marched onto the airwaves, and became just as popular. (It is no accident that call centres are often located in Edinburgh or Dublin to capitalize on our fondness for those accents.) Then the compelling, anonymous voice of Big Brother sparked off a demand for Geordie voices. Welsh is still a bit of a slow burner, though a very soft hint of the Valleys has been always been considered exceptionally attractive in voices like those of Anthony Hopkins and John Humphrys. So why are people still asking voice trainers ‘Is my accent suitable for broadcasting?’ One possible reason is that myths about accent take a long time to die, even when the evidence is all over the airwaves that regional
voices are now not only acceptable but also fashionable. There is in a few people’s minds a vague unformed notion that maybe this is all a passing fad, and when it comes down to it, a sort of national standard accent is somehow best.
