There are few certainties in life. But for the past 15 years or so, one of my personal certainties has been the knowledge that if I put in my earbuds to work out or connect my iPhone to my car for a drive, Melvyn Bragg’s voice will emerge.
Today I’m lamenting the news that the Bragg has stepped down as the host of “In Our Time,” a discussion program from BBC Radio 4, a British national spoken-word radio station.
Now 85 years old, he has hosted more than 1,000 episodes since introducing the first in October of 1998. “In Our Time” later became the BBC’s first podcast, in 2004. I’ve listened to hundreds of them.
Bragg has had a notable career quite apart from “In Our Time,” as a broadcaster, writer and member of the House of Lords. One colleague, writing in the Telegraph, calls Bragg’s career “astonishing.”
But for this American listening to a British radio program via a podcast, my entire experience of Bragg is through his voice and the remarkable way he guided respectful conversation among the guests on his program.
“In Our Time” is a show for curious people. The format is simple: Three academics sit down with Melvyn and talk their way through a topic in science, history, religion, culture or philosophy for the better part of an hour.
It might be the discovery of Tutankhamun’s tomb, how pollination works, the writings of Dylan Thomas or the death of stars. It could be Higgs Boson, the origin of the split between Sunni and Shia Islam, or the concept of guilt.
In itself the material is engaging. But I believe “In Our Time” succeeds over its 1,086 episodes because of Bragg.
He never makes the show about himself, yet he is the undeniable maestro. He wastes no words. Opening each program he simply says a hurried “Hello” and then immediately dives into the material, without flash or excess.
He queries each guest crisply and intelligently. He has research notes in front of him but you can tell that many of his questions are impromptu and based on his own vast knowledge of the world. (He would be a remarkable dinner guest.)
He always moves the program along with an eye on his clock. He allows the academics to dig into their topic but he will cut the professors off deftly if they drift and is not afraid to show a flash of annoyance with them at times.
After years with the show, I’ve become fond of its little details and quirks. I look forward at the end of the broadcast portion to hearing a voice say, “And now the ‘In Our Time’ podcast has a few extra minutes of bonus material from Melvyn and his guests.” Bragg asks them, “What do you wish you’d had time to say on the radio program?” You can feel the guests relax and turn to one another, and they continue to discuss, with us podcast listeners invited to stay on too.
I’m happiest at the end of the podcast when I hear a studio door open and the producer, most often Simon Tillotson, comes in and asks the guests if they’d like tea or coffee.
But most of all the show has been a treasured presence in my life. I’ve turned to it with gratitude when my mind is active and I don’t want to dwell on personal or professional problems and challenges. Other things may change but I’ve known I could click on my podcast icon and meet up once again with Melvyn and his academic friends. The BBC will have a challenge finding a worthy successor. (The website offers the entire archive on demand, with guides to its most popular episodes.)
I believe that my reaction to the departure of a beloved host says much about the power radio still can have in our lives.
Whether a program reaches me via a broadcast tower or live stream or a podcast, radio retains the power to connect people to one another — to make us feel that we know them and make us feel part of a community. When radio does that well, it is still an unbeatable medium.
Also, in a culture that increasingly disparages intellectualism, I am grateful that a program makes no apologies for being smart and exploring “the power of ideas.”
The BBC says “In Our Time” is one of its most popular podcasts among listeners under the age of 35. I’m glad for that, because it counters a common belief that substantive, thoughtful programming must always lose out in our culture to the lowest common denominator content.
On the other hand the Telegraph website said Bragg’s retirement “marks the end of a golden age of British public intellectuals.” If that’s true I’m sorry to hear it. For me, it just feels like the loss of a friend.
