In the
hot seat.
Name: Clive Myrie Occupation: Journalist Subject: People and place
The stalwart BBC broadcaster talks truth and travel, settings that shape society, the merits of moving away from silo mentality and embracing holism.
In the
hot seat.
Name: Clive Myrie Occupation: Journalist Subject: People and place
The stalwart BBC broadcaster talks truth and travel, settings that shape society, the merits of moving away from silo mentality and embracing holism.
PEOPLE
“You get incredibly bright professors, doctors of law, who just crumble. You can see it in their eyes. The first question is an underarm delivery to settle them down – a general question about a specific subject that they should know. If they get that wrong, they’re in trouble. They haven’t been able to battle the nerves. I’m staring at them, they’re staring at me, and the confidence just drains. It’s horrible to see… But it happens.”
BBC broadcaster and journalist Clive Myrie is talking about one of the longest-running shows on British television, now in its 50th year and inspired by a real-life episode of torture. Mastermind’s creator Bill Wright was a gunner in World War Two, shot down over Nazi Germany and seized as a prisoner of war. When he became a TV executive in later years, memories of the Gestapo demanding his name, rank and number brought about the idea for the quiz show and its starting sequence: name, occupation, subject. “
“Bill created the format in 1972, based on the conditions of his interrogation,” explains Myrie, who took over from John Humphrys as quiz master last year. “It’s pitch black in the studio now, apart from the spotlight on me and the contender – since Covid we’ve recorded without an audience so it’s even more intimidating.
On Mastermind
There’s no one who goes on that show that doesn’t have a brain but the question is: can you handle the nerves of the situation? It’s designed to rattle you – the speed of my questions, the austerity of our interaction on camera. That blasted chair.
Myrie is a big fan of art, classical music and Manchester City FC, but not to the extent, he insists, that he could even get close to the famous black leather hot seat. “It’s bloody hard. And I’m the classic journalist who knows a little bit about everything but nothing in any depth. I have the highest respect for all the contenders. I’m firing questions at them like a machine as the clock ticks down – two or three million people watching – and they have to collect their thoughts and deal with it. I couldn’t cope with that!”
Myrie may be doing himself a disservice – he’s kind of a high-pressure-environment guy. Having reported from more than 80 countries over the last 30 years, he recently anchored the BBC’s coverage of the conflict in Ukraine, where he sat down with President Zelensky, and in his time he has covered wartime Kosovo and Afghanistan, earthquake-shaken Nepal, and the US during the Clinton impeachment. Once, while working as embedded correspondent with the Royal Marines during the 2003 invasion of Iraq, he had to prepare a goodbye letter to his family in case he died on assignment.
On reporting from Ukraine
People need to understand what’s going on in their world, and it can often mean that they make better decisions which is important in any democracy.
Meeting President Zelensky for BBC News
Insights through the windows of society
And in lieu of a specialist subject, Myrie has something of equal value in his back pocket – a breadth of diverse perspective and holistic overview that comes from fielding opinions, balancing viewpoints, and the journalist’s prerogative to glimpse through myriad different windows on society.
Whether he’s watching the sharpest wits unravel in the minimalist Mastermind studio, presenting the BBC Proms from the grandeur of the Albert Hall or, at the far end of the spectrum, witnessing the horror of displacement during refugee crises, Myrie knows a thing or two about people, place and how they interact. He’s seen how various environments enhance and diminish performance; support people in their lives and roles; influence and shape individual and community identity; and help maintain healthy societies around the world.
For four years he lived in Los Angeles as West Coast correspondent for BBC News. “When I first went to LA, I didn’t like it. It felt too big, with no centre where communities could colaesce. That’s the response of most Europeans, who much prefer San Francisco when they first go to the West Coast: smaller roads, less driving, more of a heart.
“Spend more time in LA and you realise there are hearts, they’re just all over the place. There isn’t one central meeting point, necessarily, for the metropolitan area, but lots of little ones dotted around. If you’re part of the Puerto Rican or Mexican communities, there are centres within those districts. Open space where everyone can get together is critical, whether it’s Central Park in New York, Hyde Park in London, or the communal garden where I live in Islington, where we have Christmas fêtes and summer parties.
“There needs to be a focal point: a cricket or bowling green, a church, where a society can gel and be one. In Venice, you’ve got little tributaries from the Grand Canal, along which communities have developed. Each was built with a square so if you didn’t have a boat or money to get a taxi, you could walk to the square and meet friends, exchange gossip.”
Myrie is enjoying a couple of days off in The Floating City, catching the art world’s big Biennale and soaking up the beautiful symmetry of the architecture as church bells toll from the top of the hour. Every year he visits Italy – it’s one of his best-loved locations alongside Table Mountain in South Africa and North America’s Rockies. “There is perhaps nothing more beautiful,” he says. “Mother Nature is a pretty amazing construction worker.”
When this Bolton-born bastion of British newsgathering started out in journalism, it was travel that motivated him. “I grew up in a former mill town which wasn’t doing well, economically, in the ’70s, and I wanted to see the world beyond. I became fascinated with things I saw on TV; tales from Japan, Haiti, America. I loved Alan Whicker, a journalist who travelled the world telling stories of everyday folk far beyond the shores of Britain, and thought it’d be great to get a job that would allow me to experience different things; to give a platform to people who didn’t have access to power, resources or money and get their stories out there.”
In Warsaw while presenting Ukraine’s Musical Freedom Fighters (photo: BBC/Agata Grzybowska). Globetrotting broadcaster Alan Whicker inspired Myrie to embark on a career in journalism.
In pursuit of objectivity
“It might sound highfalutin but it’s quite simple. We live in a fractured world and we’re becoming more focused on ourselves, individuals. That’s reinforced by the way society is. We can seek out our own ideas of what is honest, decent, fair, and that’s not necessarily what is honest, decent, fair.
“It’s important for public service broadcasting to try to find those objective truths, because it is only when most of us agree on what is truthful and fair that democracies can function. That is what underpins what drives me today, that search for something objective that we can agree on, no matter the subject.”
The imperative to find veracity
“It’s important for public service broadcasting to try to find those objective truths, because it is only when most of us agree on what is truthful and fair that democracies can function. That is what underpins what drives me today, that search for something objective that we can agree on, no matter the subject.”
It’s the most striking societal development he’s witnessed in all his working life. “We’ve seen more technological change in the last 20, 30 years than we have in the last 100. The explosion of social media has allowed the ‘global public square’ to become much more democratised. It used to be just those with money, power and influence who were able to get their points of view out there. Now, everybody has a megaphone. On one level, that is fantastic; the voices of ordinary people can count beyond the ballot box. And in America where they don’t have proportional representation, for instance, the ballot box isn’t a fair way of getting your point of view across. On another level, it has obscured that imperative to find veracity. It’s deeply problematic because if you do have money but you’re not an honest actor, you can influence in a way that you couldn’t before. We’ve seen that in America, Russia, countries where there is pretence of democracy. That is a worrying transformation.”
The perils of misinformation make it even more important to physically be present in places of topical interest to obtain first-hand accounts of unfolding events. It’s why Myrie is so passionate about conveying what’s happening in Ukraine in the plainest, most frank way possible. “People need to understand what’s going on in their world, and it can often mean that they make better decisions which is important in any democracy.”
As much as he’s seen the construction of place contribute to community and identity, he’s witnessed how the destruction of place can decimate them, and the psychology of waging war on the built environment. “I interviewed the ambassador to the UK for Russia a few months ago and showed him pictures of the devastation in environments dating from the 18th century, very much in keeping with architecture that you might see in Central Europe. A beautiful old opera house, commercial buildings, the kind of thing you’d see in Vienna. Absolutely flattened. The ambassador said: ‘Don’t worry about Mariupol. We will rebuild it.’
A metropolitan city with a small-town vibe, Venice is very different to vast Los Angeles, but if you stay long enough, you realise that LA does have a heart – more than one, in fact.
History & humility: crucial to adaptation
Having seen a hell of a lot of global events – good and bad – Myrie has a particular perspective on how environments develop, how populations function and grow and what that means for communities left behind as well as those that people are moving to.
“Of course, climate change is affecting the world’s response to population shifts, too – not just the effects of constructing dams in Namibia or draining lakes in Chad, but the way authorities in Germany and Italy, for instance, have had to adapt to deal with an influx of newcomers.
“The migrant crisis is still raging, with push factors also including lack of employment. If you’re a farmer and you can’t grow your crops anymore, you’re going to want to go somewhere else. A hungry mouth will always want to find food – that has been the case since the beginning of time. If you’re dealing with an influx of migrants and want to be humane in your response, you’ve got to build environments to cater for these travellers.”
On migration
A hungry mouth will always want to find food – that has been the case since the beginning of time. If you’re dealing with an influx of migrants and want to be humane in your response, you’ve got to build environments to cater for these travellers.
Myrie cites Italian opposition to boats coming across from Libya. “What people need to remember is that North America is full of immigrants from 100 years earlier. Mass emigration there was the result of poor Irish people and poor Italians trying to better their lives, in the same way as some guy travelling from Eritrea, and ending up in the refugee camp in Greece or Italy, is trying to find better opportunities today. Too often we forget Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty welcoming Italian migrants who now make up a large part of the population of the big East Coast cities.”
We need more understanding of history, he says. “You will hear freshly minted immigrants from Mexico – who crossed into California illegally 20 years ago and have been there so long that they are now citizens – say: ‘pull up the drawbridge’.
“It’s unfortunate that people have not only have short memories, but don’t understand the legacy. Many more people are feeling the pressure of immigration, but they need humility when thinking about the future, finding ways of absorbing these people, making that transition palatable. These shifts are inevitable as climate change gets more marked. You cannot be King Canute and try to hold back the waves.”
Elsewhere, Myrie is encouraged by promising examples of climate change response and adaptation. “We’ve seen such transformation where I live in London – on regulations concerning where cars can go, more emphasis on walking and green spaces, the proliferation of cycling – as a result of this mental change we’ve all gone through post-Covid.
“As a resident, you get more exercise and there’s less traffic and noise pollution, but at the same time we have to understand that people make their living using their car: getting to work, driving taxis, moving pallets to building sites, delivering bread to the local bakery. That’s an interesting debate that we’re having now and there will be a recalibration. After a while you find the middle ground.
“We’re working out how we negotiate this new world – people demanding better, because of the state of the globe. We relied far too much on the idea of four wheels and it overtook everything else. LA, for example, was an environment built around the motor car, with wide streets, cheap petrol and parking, and a focus on getting from A to B in as timely a fashion as possible. Only poor people rode the buses. There was a metro system but it was a tenth of the Central Line in London; it didn’t go anywhere.
“When I arrived in 1994, I remember seeing the heat haze of dirt and smog sitting over the city. That is not there now, because local people and campaigners such as Arnold Schwarzenegger fought to clean things up.
“Public transport links are better. If you’ve got buses travelling on cleaner fuel that can cut the idling through bus lanes, you’ve got a mode of transport for a majority of people that is cheaper, and you’re keeping them out of their cars. You can’t just reduce the spaces in which cars can travel without increasing those in which public transport can go.”
Myrie agrees that multidisciplinary approaches, drawing on both specialist and generalist thinking, must be utilised in order to solve society’s challenges. “It’s clearly better for us to work with the forces transforming our lives, than try to fight them, and there has to be an overarching approach to these huge changes. The job of a journalist is to lay out the objective facts; it’s down to societies, population experts, all of us, to work out how we live better together.”
On society's challenges
It’s clearly better for us to work with the forces transforming our lives, than try to fight them, and there has to be an overarching approach to these huge changes. The job of a journalist is to lay out the objective facts; it’s down to societies, population experts, all of us, to work out how we live better together.
He suggests city planners and designers should be in lockstep with those who deal with immigration as well as law and order. “Certain sectors cannot operate on their own – it can lead to inbuilt problems further down the line.”
A classic example, as he recalls it, is the huge post-war construction of tower blocks, focused on the need to provide people with a roof over their heads but not necessarily allowing for nature to be part of that environment. “You had estates built with very little green space, people piled on top of each other and no real coordination with other sectors of society.
“If you’re a policeman and you have to go into a built-up estate, what safety precautions are there for you? How much more dangerous is it to go into a closed environment where you could be attacked from any quarter? There was no discussion about that when planners were looking at these tower blocks in the ’50s and ’60s.
“Now, where I live, we have line of sight. The Victorians built the square in the 1840s, with trees flanking the whole thing, so, going through the gate, you couldn’t see what was going on inside because the view was obscured. Now, if a tree falls or has to be removed, the replacement will be a much smaller tree or foliage that allows you to see past it. You don’t have to risk going into a potentially dangerous environment to keep the law and it also acts as a deterrent for certain types of activity – drug dealing and whatever. But this discussion has only taken place in the last 10, 15 years between law enforcement and urban planners.”
Myrie has learned to adapt to different settings at the drop of a hat: here he is hosting Have I Got News For You (photo: BBC/Hat Trick), and reporting on location.
Keeping it real
The past decades have also seen a change in Myrie’s response to dangerous environments in his own work. “As a young correspondent going out into the world and reporting on stories of conflict, I suppose that adrenaline rush was there, but I don’t get it at all now. I’m too much focused on getting to the heart of a story. And you do not go into these situations unprepared: we regularly have hostile environment courses where you’re refreshed on how to deal with certain situations on the road. I hope that the experience of the last 18 years has given me a sense of realism in what’s achievable in covering a conflict. As a result, I won’t take any stupid chances.”
As the impenetrable, po-faced persona of the newsreader has gradually become a thing of the past, Myrie’s mastered another, surprisingly difficult, aspect of the job – being himself. “It’s something that’s had to develop. There are few people who are naturally able to do it. You don’t realise until you’ve been doing it a while that you have license to be yourself and you’re not becoming a newsreader.
“It’s difficult to open yourself up to the public, like you’re on a stage. The key is realising that you’re not playing a globetrotting journalist or a dashing war correspondent. You can tell which people have understood that.
“When a reporter’s natural environment is in the field, they’re more relaxed. Then all of a sudden they’re in the studio, handing down these tablets of stone from a mountain on high and they become a news robot. The best people at this job are the ones who are conversational; who are just telling you a story. Trevor McDonald, Peter Jennings and Walter Cronkite were themselves wherever they were and that’s something I hope I’m getting close to in my own presentation.”
Reporting on pain and difficulty hasn’t got any easier, but if a journalist becomes inured to people’s suffering, that’s a problem. “It comes through on screen,” explains Myrie. “If you lose that empathetic edge, you lose the viewer. I think I actually respond more viscerally to other people’s pain now than I did at the beginning because as I’ve grown I’ve seen what it means to lose everything. I’ve accumulated stuff in my life: friends, home, career. I have things to lose.
“Whether in Ukraine or Syria, I try to relate to people and think about what it might be like not be able to provide for your family due to devastating floods. You want the empathy levels as potent as possible, to put the people watching your reports in the shoes of the people they’re learning about.
“Why should anyone care about what’s going on in Sierra Leone? To get someone sitting in a comfortable house to relate to someone who has nothing, you’ve got to draw out those human connections.”
On the importance of empathetic storytelling
Why should anyone care about what’s going on in Sierra Leone? To get someone sitting in a comfortable house to relate to someone who has nothing, you’ve got to draw out those human connections.
Yet knowing how much humanity to put into the story can be tricky when broadcasting live. One instance always springs to mind: covering the election of Barack Obama. “The most powerful nation on Earth, run by a man descended from a group of people that had been marginalised for centuries. To reach that position was an incredible achievement, and for me to be there on the night he was elected…”
Myrie was reporting live from Atlanta’s historic Morehouse College, whose graduates include Martin Luther King and Samuel L. Jackson. “It’s an august institution, the equivalent of Oxbridge for African Americans,” says Myrie, who was in the main auditorium watching intently on huge TV screens, surrounded by faculty members, alumni and current students. “When they announced that Obama was the new president, everyone burst into tears. I was live on the election programme hosted by David Dimbleby, and I said: ‘This is just astonishing. There are older people here who remember segregation and what it was like to be an African American in the 1950s. This is a huge moment.’
“Then I said something I thought I would regret: ‘I have to say, David, that for me, as a Black man, to be here at this moment in time and history is a real privilege and an honour.’
“I put down the microphone and thought: ‘Oh no, I’ve gone over the top. I’ve made the story about my feelings.’ Then I turned around and saw the ABC News correspondent Steve Osunsami broadcasting live to millions and crying on air, and I thought: ‘You know what, I have not crossed any line whatsoever; this is a profound moment.’ I did the right thing in reflecting on what I was thinking because, inevitably, it’s what a viewer would be wondering.
“It’s the most natural thing in the world for Gen Z-ers, but years ago that was not how you would broadcast. The idea of journalism was that you were this person who flew in from outside, observed what was going on – your nose up against the glass – and sent it back to the public. People expect more now; a level of involvement, albeit one that doesn’t overwhelm the story. If I see abuse, I relate it in a way that viewers understand because as human beings they’d be horrified too. I have to be that link between the viewer and their emotions. If I see something that’s horrible, I should be saying it’s horrible. They expect you to be a human being. As such, we’re not going to get it right all the time but that’s just the way of the world.
“We were on the cusp of that change when I took that chance. A lot of the reviews of the US election coverage pointed to that comment and said it was powerful, and I’m so glad I said it. The key is to be yourself, in all situations.”