Samira Ahmed: Journalist, Writer, Broadcaster

I was hugely honoured to me made an honorary Doctor of Letters by Kingston University today, “in recognition of her contribution to journalism and gender equality”. Here’s the speech I gave at the graduation ceremony. You can watch it on YouTube here from 1 hour 39 m. And you can find the notes from past lectures I gave students by searching under Kingston University class notes.

Thankyou so much. When I was a little girl growing up in the 70s, we used to have to watch the Miss World beauty pageant to see women winning awards for anything, so we’ve come a long way.

Over the last year or so I’ve been having a new kind of anxiety dream — that I’m back at university. When I say back, I mean I’m the age I am now, but I forgot I signed up for another degree and I’m back on campus in a tiny student room, worrying about an imminent essay. In one case I dreamt I had to hand in a dissertation the next day and hadn’t had a clue. Wondered if I could busk writing 15,000 words overnight.  And also thinking I don’t know any of these people. Oh, and what about my children, and my job? How will I juggle them all?

I think it shows that even all these years later how great a challenge university study is. So while I want to say thank you so much, for bestowing this honour on me, I want to first offer my congratulations to all of you for reaching that peak.  Well done all of you. But also thank you so much to the university, for bestowing this honour on me. I’m really hoping this not a dream!

I grew up in New Malden, very much a local girl, and was always aware of the Uni, particularly its fame for its design and fashion courses, which as we’ve heard, are still such a huge part of this university. I love the legacy of this place, finding it in books I borrowed from the library, when I was visiting professor, that still had Kingston Polytechnic stamped in their covers. The kind of whole history of this place.

As a visiting Professor in the 2010s I was delighted to meet so many students, from all over the world and learn so much from you. Learn that your enthusiasm is what promised success. I gave one class on pop music and politics and there was an American student who knew all the answers to every question about British pop music history going back to the Beatles in the early 1960s, when the British students didn’t. I loved seeing that unexpected expertise from people. In the same way I still love my science fiction and my pop music, I would urge all of you to keep the spirit of your young selves in you, throughout your careers. That passion, that personal passion for your interests, that teenage you; the early twentysomething you. Never lose touch with that person. And always be true to yourself.

My mother, who is here now, – you may have guessed I’m of South Asian heritage. And I hate to bring up a stereotype but she always wanted me to be a doctor. And you know what kind of doctor; a medical doctor. And if I’m honest she’s still wondering now that I have this honorary doctorate whether she can tell people that I am a doctor. Sorry mum.

But, of course, my mother encouraged me to follow my own heart. And at a time when we know there are politicians talking about downgrading the value of arts and humanities degrees, I’m not downgrading STEM, but I think we must all be proud of these courses.

I once met a very senior computer expert who’d worked in Silicon Valley. This was a few years ago and we were at a science conference, talking about the future dangers of AI, and she said what AI reveals is the greater importance of human decision making, of creative thinking, of the human in all of this. So more than ever, if anyone tries to push back against humanities degrees, you absolutely need to stand up for them.   

My father encouraged me too – he never went to university. Or even finished school properly. But he knew the value of education and he encouraged me. And I know for some of you here, that may be true of your families. You may be the first generation to have attended university. And I congratulate you for all of that too.

My passion meant a degree in English literature and language. It wasn’t strictly vocational, but it taught me so much about critical thinking, and how to learn to trust your own instincts.  I’d always wanted to be a journalist. I was lucky enough to join the BBC as a graduate news trainee and have never, for a day, been bored. It’s been a privilege.

In fact, with my degree in English literature, when I interviewed the director of the Barbie movie, which if you haven’t seen you should, I brought up the fact that it was clearly inspired by the story of Lord Buddha, which it was, and no one else had spotted, and we also discussed Milton’s Paradise Lost. So your degree in humanities will take you anywhere you want.

So I want to thank to all our parents and guardians and carers for backing us to follow our hearts and study the degrees we wanted. Congratulations to all the parents and carers.

Thanks to my degree I have a mantra now, it is.. show me the data and I will show you the story. Whether that’s reading a report for a journalistic investigation, or someone’s bank statements, or working out when I’m being ripped off on pay.

I think it’s useful for you to know as well, what I wish I’d known when I was at university. 

First, being judged on my own hard work at school and university set me up with a confidence of knowing my own abilities. I want all of you with your degrees to take that confidence with you and never forget it.  Never doubt your abilities, no matter what others might say.

When I began my career I assumed discrimination had all been sorted. I really did. After all the Equal Pay Act and the Race Relations act and the Sex Discrimination act for 10-20 years when I went to university. So what I wish I’d realised, and want you to, is to never assume you’re being paid or treated fairly. Trust your instincts, to share pay information with colleagues, ask your employers for transparency and equal pay. To join a union. Stand together. I couldn’t have successfully sued the BBC for sex discrimination without the backing of mine, the National Union of Journalists and the amazing lawyers and all my colleagues and friends who supported me.

I like to think I’ve always had an instinct for justice and to uncover the truth. My mum says I do, and she’s always right. I’m proud of standing up for the parents of Rochelle Holness who was murdered by a serial rapist and then had a false story about her murder printed in The Sun, apparently fed by a Metropolitan police officer. I’m proud of reporting the so-called corrective rape and murder of lesbian women in South Africa – women like Eudy Simelane – and bringing global attention to the way the criminal justice system around the world and misogyny around the world still betray too many women.

When I made my BBC4 documentary series Art of Persia in Iran I showcased the Iranian people and their rich culture – to help us see they weren’t the same as the regime ruling the country.

I can’t pretend every story I’ve covered has solved anything, but shining a light on the truth is where we have to start if we want to make our world fairer. I like to think I’ve never given up hope and I hope you won’t either.

Of course, you’ve had challenges that my generation didn’t expect. There’s been the ongoing issue of strikes and I need to say I support the lecturers fighting for pay and conditions. It’s not right that there should be such a huge gulf between the pay of those at the top and the rest of us. I can’t believe it’s got so much worse in the last few years.

Then you faced tuition fees, and the pandemic. My own children are very much the same age as most of you. And I’m so aware how the pandemic has seen your generation suffer. Divisions are being sown between us again, amplified by social media. I hope you can try to limit its pernicious influence in your life. I’m a great fan of IRL. Going out and meeting people and doing things is essential to your wellbeing and making your life the way you want it to be.

I hope you can all appreciate how remarkable you are to have come through this difficult time and be here to celebrate. When it comes to the rest of your life, though it’s a long and hopefully exciting journey. You may pause or change paths; there may be setbacks. You don’t need everything mapped out now. So my one other mantra to you is.. remember it’s stamina, not speed.

Thank you again for this huge honour. And I wish you all the best for your future.

(Updated Sep 12th with link to my article in the Journal of Beatles Studies and April 10th 2023 with set list and link to a feature for The Observer)

It was sixty years ago today….

A spread from the Stowe School archive was laid out in the Headmaster’s Gothic Library when I arrived there on March 22nd, ready for me. Copies of the letters from Brian Epstein, photos and more. Anthony Wallersteiner and old Stoic John Bloomfield had agreed to spend the morning with me and producer Julian May for a special Front Row report marking the 60th anniversary of the Beatles’ most unusual gig – the time they played a private boys’ boarding school.

My fascination with the intersection of popular culture and social change is the driving force behind my journalism. My partner had taken me for a visit to the school last summer and Anthony had given us a tour and told us about the concert. Seeing a blue plaque on the school theatre building marking the event set my spidey senses tingling. Not only did I love The Beatles, I knew there was a story about what that concert represented as a pivotal moment of transformation in British society and the uniqueness of that almost all male audience. What I didn’t know until a couple days before we arrived was that John might have a tape of the whole concert.

Last night’s Front Row special in which I revealed the existence of the earliest complete live recording of the Beatles in the UK was one of the most delightful stories I’ve ever worked on.

It’s all thanks to John Bloomfield’s self confessed technical nerdery in taping the concert on his new tape player that it exists. And thanks to his generosity and trust in me, that he told me about it.

He brought along an extract that we played through the stage PA system turned up as loud as possible to match the experience he’d had back in 1963. It was emotional for all us, including two young A level music students who came along to listen. It was like time travel. The Front Row listen hopefully gives a sense of that.

Back home I decided I needed to be sure of my story and therefore to hear the whole tape. I rang John to ask him if he’d play it in full over a call. I also asked if I could let Mark Lewisohn join us on the call and get his expert opinion on what it revealed. John kindly agreed. Mark was in New York on a research trip for his next volume of his definitive Beatles history (covering 1963-66 by great coincidence), but we found a date and time slot and the three of us listened to it in full for the first time in 60 years, grinning and tapping our feet but also..given that this was cultural history – making careful notes. I now had an almost complete set list — more than 22 songs with another 2 we guessed, missing as the tape had run out before the end. I collated Mark’s notes with mine; John made amendments to correct what we’d misheard on the banter.

PLAYLIST:

I Saw Her Standing There  

Too Much Monkey Business 

Love Me Do 

Some Other Guy 

Misery 

I Just Don’t Understand 

A Shot of Rhythm and Blues 

Boys 

Matchbox 

From Me To You 

Thank You Girl 

Memphis Tennessee 

A Taste of Honey 

Twist and Shout 

Anna 

Please Please Me 

Hippy Hippy Shake 

I’m Talking About You 

Ask Me Why 

Till There Was You 

Money  

I Saw Her Standing There (reprise) – tape runs out at this point. Possibly there were a couple more songs – maybe Sweet Little Sixteen and Long Tall Sally, according to another Stoic’s partial set list.

I then arranged to record an interview for the Front Row piece with Mark, who gives his invaluable insight and context about what the tape reveals, how it changes our understanding of the band’s performance and the potential for it with audio enhancement, as an artefact of cultural importance. And I don’t mean an artefact as a dead, fetishised object, but for its dynamic exciting capture of a live moment.

As the edit came together with more clips of the banter, the BBC worked its Reithian power when it counted: A colleague in BBC Music rights helped my editors Tim Prosser and Rebecca Stratford clear permission to use extracts. My editors gave constant support and oversight and allowed the piece to be as long as it needed to be: 27 minutes. Julian cast his George Martin-level magic to weave a sound collage of new interviews and archive – he found the BBC’s session recordings with the Fab Four made the same day as the Stowe Concert, matching some of the same songs from my written set list, in case we couldn’t use the tape. We had a nerve wracking week, keeping the secret, and waiting for clearance of clips.

I had written a news story for the BBC News website and my colleagues including Ian Youngs turned that around before 6pm – just over an hour before Front Row went on air. Somehow I recorded an interview with Hugh Laurie about his wonderful Agatha Christie adaptation. Producers Paul Waters and Kirsty McQuire took care of the shape of the rest of the programme. With the symmetry of pieces falling into place, Laurie’s drama was set in 1936, the same digits, rearranged, as 1963. Then we were on air. 1, 2, 3, 4… Tune in:

The Beatles At Stowe concert Front Row Special broadcast on April 3rd 2023 is on BBC Sounds here

Further reading

It was sixty years ago today – Schoolboy’s tape of the Beatles takes us back to an age of optimism (Observer April 9th 2023)

I was a young BBC News Correspondent and had arrived to cover for the BBC’s LA Correspondent over Christmas. I was very jetlagged after playing Mortal Kombat II nonstop for 11 hours on the flight over. But then Jeremy Cooke rang and told me he had heard on KROC that Oasis were playing a surprise gig at the Viper Room that night and offered to cover it for Radio 1’s Newsbeat. So rather than meeting him the next day in the office, did I want to come? This is the review I wrote the day after, thinking I might offer it to one of the British inkies – Melody Maker or the NME. These were the heady days of Britpop. I found it in the back of the filing cabinet in a folder with thank you letters from the Cabinet Office, broadcasting executives and various illustrious bodies. You can tell I was attempting a “style”. It does make me cringe. I apologise for “Yanks” and rudeness about brains. Not ok. It was my own attempt at youthful macho swagger. But it is what it is. An attempt to capture a moment.

In Britain they fill Wembley Arena. In Los Angeles, preppie couples in the Viper Lounge were discussing whether to other staying on after the Zen Cowboys and Chickenhawk for Oasis. The intimate club was packed out with a mix of industry “decision maker”, a hybrid batch of Goths, and alarmingly convincing Damon Albarn lookalikes. They’d all heard the hype. But they all needed convincing.

After a soundcheck, with the velvet curtains jumping around on the stage, the ‘Sis got off to a cracking start. All credit to Liam for perfecting a rock god act which requires minimal physical movement; just holding the mic lead carefully in his mouth, like a rookie Lassie, and staring blankly with those limpid eyes.

A rollicking Hello, Roll With It, and Some Might Say were definitely the highlights of a twenty minute set. Americans looked blankly as Liam, in the way of band banter, bawled something about “this is fookin’ great” and Manchester. Translation hopefully provided by a small contingent of British tourists, who were bounding around, unable to believe their luck. Sadly the Brits were also nearly the only ones actually moving. The crowd actually managed to make Liam’s stage act look like Take That. Arms crossed, pained expressions. Oh dear. A lacklustre Live Forever didn’t help; Liam deciding to give up on actually moving his lips and consigned large chunks of singing to big brother.

Cigarettes and Alcohol finally got some movement out of the crowd. The playing was superb. All on excellent form, and to hear it belted out in the intimacy of a venue which, as a fellow listener commented, was smaller than the Kent University hall whe he last saw them in 1994, well, it was fabulous.

Whether overly packed out with insiders or not, it’s clear the gig served as a useful illustration of the uphill struggle the band faces in the ‘States. People had come expecting The Beatles. They saw and heard something rather more akin to Slade. Without the acoustic wonders of Noel’s gentler numbers, I Am The Walrus, even as beautifully as it as performed, couldn’t amuse this lot.

And Liam walking off even before the band had finished playing – muttering thanks under the din – thus totally inaudible – suggested little attempt to tackle the situation with professional politeness.

Aww, who cares what the Yanks think anyway? For the tourists who found themselves there, and hopefully for a handful of Americans with brains, it was a moment out of history – like seeing The Beatles last ever performance at the Cavern. It may not have been their greatest, but it was for anyone who was there.

The final part of Art of Persia ends where most programmes and news about Iran begin – in the Islamic Revolution of 1979. We feature the beautiful Shiraz-born poets Saadi and Hafez and their influence on Byron Goethe and the European Romantics. But the story of Persia is also dominated by notorious conquerors: Genghis Khan, Timur (or Tamburlaine – as he’s known in Christopher Marlowe’s play) and Nader Shah – the looter of Delhi and the Peacock Throne.

It also features perhaps my favourite location — Takt-E-Soleyman – King Solomon’s Throne. The UNESCO-listed citadel in northwestern Iran has the ruins of a magnificent Zoroastrian Fire Temple. built around a sulphurous lake in an extinct volcanic crater. Craig Hastings’ masterful drone camerawork really captures the magic of this place, surrounded by snowcapped peaks, when we went in June last year. It’s thought the priests created the legend that Solomon kept monsters imprisoned in the lake and another neaby mountain, to help protect the site from the Arab Muslim invaders. It seems to have worked.

But for episode 3 we focus on the palace that the thirteenth century Il Khanid dynasty – the descendants of Genghis Khan – built there, richly decorated with stories from the Shahnameh as they, too, like previous invaders, became seduced by the art of being Persian.

Remarkably Timur’s descendants spawned the Timurid Renaissance with a magnificent flourishing of miniature painting – something very recognisable in India’s Mughal tradition, too. One of the first places we filmed for Art of Persia was in the workshop in Isfahan, where as you’ll see the tradition lives on with recognisable schools of Afghan (Herat) and Mongolian style. It’s a group of French tourists you’ll glimpse walking into the shop; proof that a number of tour groups of curious travellers continue to come to Iran, despite sanctions and political tensions.

The Timurid Shahnameh we examine at the Golestan Palace Archive is one of the highlights of the series. You may have been it featured in my news report for the News At Ten on June 12th. The fact that it was brought out at all is, we think, a significant gesture, and one that has excited scholars, who have been waiting years to see some of these treasures. You can tell how thrilled scholar Gity Nourouzian and I are to be able to turn its pages.

I have a fascination with subjunctive history. And Solteniyah – the fourteenth century Il Khanid capital of the Mongols northwest of Tehran – is one of history’s great what if..s. Like so many of old Persia’s capital cities, it’s all but disappeared. One building stands out though: Our focus in the film is the magnificent blue domed mausoleum. Just as medieval Christians thought of the pilgrimage potential of holy relics and cathedrals, Sultan Oljaitu had grand plans: He was going to bring the remains of the martyred Imam Ali from Karbala here, to turn it into the greatest Shia pilgrimage site outside of Mecca.

Inside, it was moving to talk to Mohammad, leading a team of restorers, painstakingly painting and reviving this beautiful building. We filmed so much more, but you’ll get a tantalising glimpse of the work going on and what it means to Iranians.

Nader Shah – the soldier of Afghan heritage-turned ruler has been compared to Napoleon, and it’s a useful not merely Western-centric comparison. It was also a strange experience for me, raised with stories of the barbarians who destroyed Delhi, to visit his brutalist 1950s built mausoleum in Mashad, where he is regarded with reverence. To be honest I felt the same about Napoleon’s mausoleum at Les Invalides in Paris. We filmed in Mashad exactly a year ago, and the mausoleum is a perfect example of the current debate about how problematic statues and memorials can be. Among the tourists I had a great chat with one American Iranian dad who’d brought his children from California to learn about their heritage. He said Nader Shah was a boyhood hero. In the same way Nelson or Napoleon or Julius Caesar might be to British or French or Italian schoolchildren.

The episode and the series end exactly where we pointedly did not start – in 1979. By exploring the link between the last Shah’s grand celebration at Persepolis to connect himself to the ancient Kings such as Cyrus, and his fall.

It’s been thrilling to see how this series, has made a connection with British audiences of all backgrounds. Of Iranian heritage as well. I really hope it will be bought and shown by international broadcasters, especially in Europe and North America and south Asia. Understanding history can only be a good thing in trying to make sense of our difficult present relations as nation states, and forge a more hopeful future.

My thanks as ever to the entire international team in Iran and the UK who worked so hard to make this happen.

Episode 3 of ART OF PERSIA is on BBC4 on June 29th 9pm with repeats and all previous episodes on BBC iplayer

It was 2016 when I was first approached about the possibility of going to Iran to make a major series about the history and art of Persia.

It took 3 years to get the visas and we filmed exactly a year ago. I’d last visited in 2002 for a Channel 4 Series Islam Unveiled that focussed on Islam and feminism around the world and always wanted to go back. It seems to me exactly what the BBC should be doing: informing, educating and entertaining.

Going beneath the news headlines to help us meet the Iranian people and get an insight into how they see themselves and their place in the world. I cannot thank the ordinary people of Iran who welcomed us enough, and hope these films do their rich heritage and resilience justice. Thanks to the UK based-academics you’ll see in the programmes who helped provide context and insight and spoke with passion and expert knowledge about how to interpret these sites and objects.

And there is obviously a real poignancy in seeing the films shot before the Covid 19 pandemic. Some of these photos capture ideas we filmed, like the roses sequence below, but sadly couldn’t fit into the final programmes. 7000 years in just 3 hours!

You’ll see amazing imagery (including some remarkable drone shots) thanks to cameraman Craig Hastings and hear memorable sounds and insights thanks to Doug Dreger our BAFTA nominated soundman.

I am hugely grateful to producer Richard Downes for his stamina, patience and care, who brought the benefit of his experience on his earlier Silk Road documentary series to work so hard on this and is the shaping force behind it all.

Special thanks to Mark Hedgecoe for recommending me for this. And to everyone at BBC Studios and BBC Arts and in post production and publicity for editing and the gorgeous graphics and the promotional work with a trailer and interviews to raise awareness of the series..

The series wouldn’t have happened without the longterm work and daily support of our colleagues in Iran. Meisam Jebelli and Naser Safarzadeh were on the road with us every day; Meisam translating as well as organising filming access and interviews. Senior Producer Reza Ganji got the whole show off the ground. It was an honour to work with them.

All photographs are copyright of Meisam Jebelli and Craig Hastings.

Further Reading/viewing

Art of Persia starts on BBC4 on Monday Jun 15th 9pm and iplayer

The Art of Being Persian (Financial Times Jun 13th) – my feature on the making of Art of Persia

This is the text of the speech I gave on winning Audio Presenter of the Year at the Broadcasting Press Guild Awards 2020 at the Guildhall, London. I’d like to add my thanks to producers and editors Jon Tolansky and Simon Pitts, who’ve both supported me and made such wonderful programmes with me.

Thankyou – I didn’t think anything could top meeting Hartley Hare at the Writers’ Guild Awards. But I think this does.

It’s an honour to be nominated alongside such great presenters.  And especially to be recognised by journalists and critics. All I’ve ever asked is to be judged on my own abilities and to be given equal opportunities. Thankyou so much to the broadcasting press guild and to all my interviewees for coming on.

As a little kid I used to make my own radio shows with a tape recorder. So this will mean a lot to that child. I was seriously going to apply for the job of Director General but I think I might wait till next time on that. My heart is in broadcasting.

Thanks to my great school teachers Miss Charlton, Frau Harris, Mrs Kirman and Mrs Wilson, to all my tutors at St Edmund Hall, Oxford Reggie Alton, Bruce Mitchell and Lucy Newlyn who inspired me, valued me, and taught me the importance of critical thinking. To my teachers on the BBC news trainee scheme: Phil Ashworth, Sarah Bulling, Rona Christie, Peter Dorling and Simon Lloyd – who gave me an absolutely amazing entry into broadcasting.

My agent Sue Ayton and the team at Knight Ayton management.

Thanks to producer Farah Jassat who’s here and Intelligence Squared who developed HIFMV and thought of me to present it. I love working with you.

Simon Guerrier who’s here – with whom I’ve tackled Oliver Cromwell’s wife, HG Wells and the H Bomb, John Ruskin’s dancing girls and Victorian lesbian tomb raiders. You and Thomas Guerrier your brother and fellow producer stretch me creatively every time we work together. You also forced me to wear a corset.

All those who’ve supported me at Front Row and BBC radio. Mohit Bakaya, Philip Sellars the editor who brought me on board at Front Row. All the production team, especially Ekene Awalawu, Tim Prosser and Hannah Robins who produced the Germaine Greer special. Thanks to the amazing studio managers who’ve been so creative. And the broadcasting assistants.

And the kind security staff and the cleaners and cafe staff who all have been so supportive of me over the last few months. These are the people who make up the backbone of the BBC.

The brilliant creative Luke Doran at Radio 4 Extra with whom I’ve tackled the faces on the Sergeant Pepper album, why Carry on Films are better than Shakespeare and what I’d give James Bond for Christmas. And Belinda Naylor who produced our Sisters in Satire special on women in radio comedy for Radio 4 Extra.

Sandi Toksvig, Lyndsey Fenner and Jeremy Hardy who welcomed me into the family on the News Quiz. Jeremy would have had so much fun at my employment tribunal. I miss you my friend.

But there are a couple of BBC names that stand out. The biggest in my career is Tony Phillips who is here and who as commissioner of Radio 4 and World Service Arts encouraged me and championed me within the BBC and recommended me for Front Row. You’ve always been a champion of new voices, too. You’d be an amazing DG, and if you aren’t then whoever the new DG is should be doing all they can to get you back. 

And there’s my friend and fellow BBC broadcaster Matthew Sweet whose friendship has been one of the best things in my life since we and Simon Guerrier first crossed paths at that screening of Daleks Invasion Earth 2150 AD with the Bernard Cribbins Q&A. Bernard Cribbins, I thank you too.

My dad and mum taught me the value of hard work and fair play. And my mother never to be afraid. My mother who used to take me to Bush House and Pebble Mill with her as a small child and showed me the camaraderie of the staff who made the programmes who believe in public service.

Who juggled her own life as an actress and broadcaster with motherhood. And Like so many other mothers of broadcasters, took care of my children so I could work. Thankyou to all the mothers and the unpaid labour that gets radio and television made.

My parents remember the days when there were signs in windows that said no blacks no Irish no dogs.

The BBC had a ban on broadcasting the fascist Oswald Mosley till 1968. I’m not talking about banning. But after the end of the nonsense of false equivalence over climate change it’s time all broadcasters thought long and hard about the right to hold the moral line on not normalising racism and prejudice. It doesn’t compromise our journalistic balance. I know it’s not easy in the current climate when the enemies of the BBC are on the attack again. But the BBC belongs to all of us and has a responsibility to protect all of us, including the most vulnerable. We need to stand against normalising such views.

Last year I was privileged to spend several weeks travelling around Iran making a BBC4 TV documentary series about understanding modern Iranians through the history of Persian Culture. It took 2 years to get the visas. It goes out in June. It’s exactly the kind of cultural diplomacy and programming that only the BBC could do and persevered in doing. Thankyou Mark Hedgecoe for getting me to present it and to everyone who’s worked with me on it through BBC Studios. We need to stand up for the best of the BBC and reform the areas that need reforming. I think listeners and viewers understand that.

So finally and more than anyone I’d like to thank all the listeners and viewers, especially Radio 4 listeners, who care passionately about culture, about the truth, about standing up to power. It’s an honour and a privilege to present the shows I do. I never take you for granted. And I always think about you every time I write a script or ask a question.

And I’d like to accept this award on behalf of all the immigrants who raised children like me. To all our mums and dads who helped make this country great. Thankyou.