The public face in public life

In broadcasting we know only too well that image is everything. Indeed even when your ship is sinking it is vital above all to maintain an air of calm and professionalism.

While things around you are, to say the least, falling apart, it is crucial that despite the fact you are paddling like mad everything on the surface as far as the listener or viewer is concerned is 100 per cent honky-dory. This is the art of the professional and seasoned broadcaster.

Like all media folk I have a curiosity that knows no bounds. It's very easy in this business to know what your fellow broadcasters are up to because by the nature of the business it is of course in the public domain.

There is a well-known industry adage that you are only as good as your last performance.

In the intensive, commercially competitive, over-crowded broadcast market in Malta, doing "memorable" programming is crucial. Stations live, breathe and die a painful death by their audience reach. Low reach - low commercial confidence - low revenue and then it's "goodnight and goodbye from us"! It's not an unfamiliar scenario.

My curiosity got the better of me the other day as I was trolling the endless radio and television websites. I was dipping in and out of streamed output, listening to and watching styles, links and overall presentation. A few of these websites have "live studio webcams" where you can actually watch the show being produced and presented.

Then my curiosity turned to dismay. I had already listened to the audio of this particular station and I knew instinctively that the guy broadcasting into people's homes, in their cars and online cared as much about his job as a broadcaster as I care about flying to the moon.

So, when I clicked onto the station "webcam" I was mortified to see the "presenter" (a public servant) with both feet up on the control desk, with dust and dirt from his shoes falling into the delicate and expensive equipment, with the microphone angle poise stretched as far forward as possible, the guy slouched back in his chair chewing gum while presenting his programme.

I viewed this shocking disregard for professionalism for about 20 whole minutes. As the online world watched, I actually felt sorry for the owners and shareholders of this station who were clearly oblivious of this embarrassing PR abuse.

Broadcasting is a profession not to be taken lightly. We are all public servants licensed to transmit into people's homes. When you go into a shop, we expect a modicum of politeness from the person serving us - you don't expect a sales assistant to have his (or her) feet up on the counter, mumbling and chewing gum without a care in the world. Despite the flood of deregulation over the years there is still the unspoken trust - a special bond - between broadcaster and audience. If you lose the special relationship you are finished - the selective consumer simply moves on.

We have always put broadcast training and development at the top of our development agenda. Training budgets are always built in to our business models and we have always maintained that despite the costs involved that training is an investment for the future.

Image is absolutely everything - it is premium.

So my tip is - if you know there is a webcam installed in your studio at least pretend you care about the programme you are inflicting on the consumer because you never know who is watching you!