Nick Robinson has been working as the BBC’s political editor since the end of last August. Educated at Oxford, reading Politics, Philosophy and Economics, his first broadcasting job was as an “unpaid gofer’ for Piccadilly Radio in Manchester.
Nick hit headlines in the run up to the 2005 election for upsetting Blair’s entourage, and being called a ‘fucking pillock’ by Deputy Prime Minister John Prescott.
Getting work experience with the BBC is notoriously a difficult and lengthy process, so landing a day shadowing one of news broadcasting most highly regarded journalists, was a great day for gair rhydd – and an even better one for me.
On Arriving at the BBC Studios, Nick was caught up watching Ruth Kelly in Parliament, and so I was given an impromptu tour of ‘where the magic happens’. Walking through the different sections of the studios, a few journalists were watching coverage of Mrs Kelly in the commons, commenting ‘she looks bloody smug’.
Other journalists were talking on phones, typing away wildly at computers or repeating “fuck , fuck, fuck” at the confusion of putting stories together.Then it was time to watch The Daily Politics go out live from the editing room – this was again full of people running in and out, drinking coffee and shouting ‘fuck!’ a lot.
As Nick was on his way back to the studios, it was time to re-join the journalists watching Kelly, and this was as events got decidedly more interesting. Just as a BBC News 24 feed went horribly wrong to a chorus of ‘oh fuck’ from its producers, Nick came back into the office, clearly unhappy and said a brief hello before heading towards his producer’s office
Dressed in a smart suit and trade mark thick cut glasses he had a heated debate with the producer over covering the Ruth Kelly story. Nick felt that the story had nothing to do with politics and that it should be covered by a ‘special affairs’ journalist. Infact he was rather disgruntled that he had spent two hours reading documents reading child protection laws.
Eventually, the issue was resolved with Nick agreeing to do the story on the Six O’Clock News but he wanted to make it clear he was not happy. In the same breath he turned and offered to buy lunch, and as we walked out of the studio he added, laughing, ‘cementing my reputation as a grumpy old sod’.
After making small talk about Cardiff and checking that I was okay to note down every move, Nick was keen to get me up to speed with the work we would be covering in the afternoon. All the footage from the Commons speech needed to be trawled through, finding suitable sound bites to include in their two minute news segment.
Throughout lunch it became came clear that Nick is interested in all sides of journalism, genuinely excited about the prospect of being followed around by gair rhydd, watching him work you can see that you’d never been considered for a position like his without passion for your craft – something he appears to have by the bucket load.
Infact within the BBC studios, Nick’s reputation as a ‘chirpy northerner’ seems to boost morale. Earlier that day, the director of The Daily Politics gushed as I told her I was spending the ‘day in his life’: “Oh, you’re very lucky” she said. “He is a lovely man.”
Later in the editing suite, the producer looked knackered and started rubbing his temples as the segment kept running over, at one point lasting over five minutes. Nick laughed and added: “Picked a bloody good day Dan, it’s boring when things go right.”
Eventually finished at ten to six and without any script written, we got up and walked (very quickly) to where Nick was due to do his broadcast.
Live outside Parliament he stood quietly with an ear piece, talking to the voice in his ear, and it became apparent that he was on any second. There were no monitors around so it was a bit of a surprise when Nick began to speak.
Changing his voice into clear reporting tone quashed any doubts of him being underprepared, it was impressive that with no reference to what he might say on air and no notes, no script and no auto-cue, that the segment went out correct and on time.
Question time
Once the piece was over, Nick finished for the day and was happy to answer some questions before heading out to meet a ‘contact’.
On the way we bumped into Liberal Democrat MP Lembit Opik, who spoke to Nick as if they were good friends.
This surprised me so I put it to Nick. “You have to be friends with the politicians or you’ll never get anywhere,” he tells me. “The danger is getting too friendly and being unable to properly report on a story because of personal feeling towards a person.” I remember hearing Lembit tell Nick how glad he was to have got his candidate for the Liberal Democrat leadership race off to a ‘flying start’.
Himself once a ‘Young Conservative’, I was keen to ask Nick why he had become a journalist and not a Tory politician. “I always wanted to be a journalist” he said. His best friend at school had been the son of Brian Redhead, the former presenter of The Today Programme and he had always loved and admired the craft.
He describes being a young conservative as being both a blessing and a curse: “It will hang over me whatever I do” he explains. There were very vocal protests at a former Conservative becoming political editor of the BBC, and whilst he was generally welcomed, there were certainly those who groaned at him being appointed.
Do you regret joining them? “It’s an irony, that despite the criticism I get from it now, having been politically involved really helped me get this job” he tells me. “The contacts I made have given me an edge over other political hacks.”
I ask him what he thinks the problems are in communicating politics to an audience, many of whom don’t trust politicians and find politics dull. “There is definitely a ‘them ‘n’ us’ issue” he explains. “We walk a tight-rope in our profession between persuading an audience we are digging up what they want to hear and persuading the politicians that we are on their side.”
Is it hard to mask your own opinion? “Never” he responds quickly and I gather he must be used to answering this question. “I’ve been in politics so long that I am always able to see both sides of an argument. It’s never been an issue”
So what is the best thing about being in such a powerful role? “To be caught up in the middle of a massive political issue such as Iraq is a massive thrill.” His enthusiasm shines through. “It still gives me a hell of an adrenaline rush”.
And the worst? “No life” he replies and tells me that just the week before he was just about to leave for the cinema with his children before receiving a phone call about Charles Kennedy’s resignation. “It was rush in, shave, put a suit on and straight to work,” he tells me. You get the sense that he feels slightly guilty about this, but that it is an inevitable part of him doing what he loves.
Given that he has reached perhaps the most coveted job in British political journalism, I ask him what he wants to do next. He looks thoughtful; it’s clearly not something he often thinks about. “I have no idea, I’d like to keep doing this job for a long time” he says.
Later on, he tells me his dream is to present Today and emulate his mentor Brian Redhead.
