I must admit, when I heard the Scottish Government was up in arms about the BBC canning River City, my first thought was, ‘Where were they when the axe was actually falling?’ It feels a wee bit like shutting the stable door after the horse has bolted, doesn’t it? For years, River City has been part of the furniture in many Scottish homes, a familiar face on a Tuesday and Thursday night, and now it’s gone, or at least on its way out.
The government is now demanding the BBC makes more “authentically Scottish” shows. It’s a grand phrase, that, “authentically Scottish.” What does it even mean, exactly? For me, it’s about seeing ourselves reflected on screen, not just the dramatic scenes of the Highlands or the gritty crime scenes of Glasgow, but the everyday banter, the community spirit, the wee struggles and triumphs that make up life here. River City, for all its melodrama, often hit that mark for folk.
BBC Scotland chiefs, bless ’em, are quick to point out their commitment to “homegrown storytelling.” They mention shows like Shetland, Granite Harbour, Rebus, and even Gaelic murder mystery An t-Eilean. And aye, those are good shows, some of them braw even. But are they the same as River City? I don’t think so. They’re often high-end dramas, aimed at a broader UK audience, and while they’re set here, the focus can feel a world away from Shieldinch’s close-knit community.
The government’s report for a Holyrood inquiry expressed deep disappointment about River City’s cancellation, highlighting the impact on skills development. They said they want to see more BBC investment in production here and for the BBC to protect the network of professionals in Scotland. I can see their point. Losing a long-running show like that, a training ground for actors, writers, and crew, creates a real gap. It’s not just about the show itself, but the ecosystem it supports, the folk who learn their trade on set and then move on to bigger things, or stay and keep the industry alive.
It’s about more than just specific programmes, though, isn’t it? The government is pushing for a complete overhaul of the BBC’s commissioning structures. They want to make sure companies genuinely based in Scotland aren’t losing out to those elsewhere. They’re also suggesting BBC Scotland should have more structural independence, greater editorial authority, and better financial resources. It sounds like a sensible move to me, giving Scotland more control over its own narrative and ensuring our stories aren’t just an afterthought.
This whole debate makes me think about the broader scene of Scottish politics, power, and the path forward for our cultural institutions. If we can’t even get a long-running soap opera to stick around, what does that say about our ability to shape our own media environment? There’s a constant battle for resources and recognition, and sometimes it feels like Scotland is still fighting for its corner, even within a public broadcaster that’s meant to serve all parts of the UK.
The BBC’s argument about “changing viewing habits” and audience demand for shorter runs is a fair one, to a point. The world of television is constantly evolving, with streaming services offering endless choice. But a public broadcaster has a different remit, surely? It’s not just about chasing ratings; it’s about reflecting and nurturing national identity. For more insight into the challenges facing public services, you might want to read about how local councils are running out of money, which highlights similar struggles with resources and priorities.
I believe it’s vital that people working in Scotland’s screen sector continue to access meaningful career and skills development opportunities. The government’s push to secure a “resilient future for Scottish broadcasting” is a worthy goal. We need to ensure that our creative talent isn’t forced to head south to find work, and that the next generation of Scottish storytellers can hone their craft right here at home. You can find more information about the Scottish Government’s cultural policies on their official website.
Ultimately, this isn’t just about River City, or even just about the BBC. It’s about whether Scotland genuinely has a voice in its own media, whether our unique culture and daily lives are given the prominence they deserve. We need more than just a few big-budget dramas; we need the everyday, the relatable, the authentic. What’s the point of a national broadcaster if it doesn’t truly reflect the nation it serves? You can check out current BBC Scotland programming on the BBC Scotland website.
