My Auntie Is an Apex Predator

And She's Rampaging Out of Control

Last week, Director General Tim Davie was in the headlines once again delivering a high-profile speech in Salford. He was talking up BBC reform, digital evolution, and audience trust. It was a speech about the future but if you listened closely, you heard the same old logic: the BBC would "become weaker, less trusted, less competitive" if it didn't evolve. However, I believe that’s exactly the problem, I just don't think the BBC needs to "be competitive" to remain relevant and survive. He warned that the UK’s cohesive society was “at risk” and that the future of the BBC depended on platform presence, performance metrics, and the ability to monetise across formats. The main problem is that Davie just isn’t thinking big enough.

Once affectionately known as "Auntie," the BBC was set up to inform, educate and entertain. Today, though, she behaves more like an apex predator - hoovering up shelf space on streaming platforms, squeezing out regional outlets, dominating the podcast charts and gobbling up genres that other people are already feeding well. Desperate to make money as if she is a commercial broadcaster.

So Aunty is not nurturing the industry. She’s consuming it and the saddest part? She seems to think, according to Davie, that’s her job.

Let’s get one thing clear: the BBC is not broke. It makes £3.74 billion a year from the licence fee alone. That is an astonishing amount of public money. So why is it acting like a starving commercial rival, desperate to monetise every show, every podcast, every news bite?

The BBC always complains that it’s broke, but that’s because it has completely overreached. Apart from a few brilliant shows like Happy Valley (yes, yet another police procedural), the public sentiment is that it isn’t getting value for money. And while I personally believe they are, let’s be honest, sentiment rules in today’s world, not facts.

If the BBC wants to protect its future, it must become radically more collaborative. It needs to get its fingers into many more pies, spreading its brand across every corner of British life - not by dominating, but by supporting. That’s how people will feel its value again.

It needs to stop thinking of itself as a TV-first institution. It must reframe itself around a much bigger picture - an enabler, a connector, a national creative partner. But that requires a wholesale restructure and change. It requires big thinkers at the top - but that’s not what we’re getting at the moment. We have a technocrat in charge - admittedly by all accounts a very nice one - but nevertheless, to use a cricket analogy, a straight batter. What we need is a Botham - a slugger if Aunty is to survive.

The excuse is always the same: "We must compete to be relevant. We must make more money to make more shows." But here's the rub: in chasing commercial relevance, the BBC is distorting the very market it was created to balance. It doesn’t just compete. It competes unfairly.

It has the power of the state behind it, and increasingly, it’s using that power not to raise the industry but to outpace it. And in doing so, it forgets its Reithian roots.

The original mission? To inform, educate, entertain - in that order. That wasn’t just a poetic tagline. It was a moral framework. A guiding star and it’s slipping fast.

Just look at the content strategy. Endless prestige drama. Peak-time thrillers. Podcasts peppered with celebrity voices. They shout "Look at the numbers! Look at the charts!” But then plead they are broke - they need the Celebrities otherwise NO-ONE will watch. Interesting, so without Lineker, I presume Match of the Day is screwed? Now he’s gone will that brand collapse? Will people stop watching the football show because the lead host has left? Will the numbers flatline? These are answers we don't know yet - but I suspect not.

Public service isn’t a leaderboard. It’s not measured in streaming minutes - it’s measured in cultural value, public understanding, national reach.

Take Mr Bates vs The Post Office, the drama that sparked national outrage and political response. That should have been a BBC commission. It had everything: public interest, working-class stories, institutional failure, national impact and yet, it was ITV who made it - and reportedly lost money on it, because, as they admitted, it had "limited international appeal." That’s precisely the sort of story the BBC exists to tell. The fact it didn’t should be cause for national concern.

Instead, the BBC is spending vast resources churning out yet another crime procedural because crime sells. Because drama wins awards. Because prestige is easier to measure than impact. People argue that the “entertain” part of the Reithian principle is the most important factor - but it shouldn’t be the only part. What Reith meant was to make educational and sometimes niche content in an entertaining way. Not just make entertainment - because thats what commercial broadcasters do.

And all the while, regional newsrooms collapse. Niche sports vanish from TV. The BBC, increasingly, looks like a slightly smug version of its commercial cousins. Bigger budget, but same playbook.

The creator economy - the people making genuinely educational, inspiring, community-rooted content - is increasingly left out in the cold in this country. The government doesn't get the sector, there are very few investment funds out there so creators are left trying to get a foothold on platforms flooded with BBC content. What the hell? It’s not as if the BBC doesn’t have Sounds or iPlayer - so they should not be allowed to compete on commercial platforms whilst they are funded by the public.

BBC Studios, the commercial arm of the BBC, is a globally competitive production powerhouse. It makes shows for Netflix, Amazon, Apple, and Disney+. It has every right to. But it also gets first access to the BBC’s most powerful distribution engines: iPlayer, Sounds, the broadcast schedules.

All this creates a dangerous structural imbalance. A taxpayer-funded gate, mostly open to in-house bidders. If you’re an independent producer, how exactly are you supposed to compete?

iPlayer is not open. It’s not accessible. It’s a walled garden and only the favoured few are let in.

But here’s the thing: iPlayer doesn’t need to become YouTube. It can stay curated. It can stay high quality. But it can behave more like YouTube in spirit for British creators. Imagine a space that helped discover new production companies and allowed them to flourish by giving them a public funded platform to be seen and heard on.

That would mean investing in infrastructure: new content managers, more compliance teams, more data storage. But think of the value to the British economy. A national platform that offers editorial rigour, reach, discoverability and credibility. A place where new voices are not just tolerated but nurtured. Think of the money they would generate as they grew and found their feet.

What would that look like? I think you would expand iPlayer and Sounds where it would look like an open but standards-driven submission portal, where indies and creators can submit audio, video or visual journalism to be reviewed by BBC editors -not gate-kept, but guided. If content meets PSB thresholds for fairness, balance, and quality it goes on the platform. If it doesn’t, producers get structured feedback and support.

It would mean sharing infrastructure, archival access, subtitling tools, compliance templates. Supporting local journalists with rights-ready footage. Offering digital workshops not just to students, but to YouTubers, podcasters, TikTok educators.

It would mean covering sports no one else touches - squash, bowls, hockey, fencing, rowing, climbing, and Paralympic disciplines that barely make the schedule. These sports are played passionately in communities across the UK, yet are invisible in mainstream media coverage. The BBC, with its infrastructure and reach, could shine a light on them in a way no one else can.

This isn’t just about fulfilling a remit - these are spaces where public service broadcasting can genuinely lead. Where else but the BBC should you be able to watch a national lawn bowls final or a junior judo tournament with proper commentary, storytelling, and pride? Giving airspace to cultural expression that isn’t ratings-tested, but relevance-tested.

It would mean co-owning content, not just commissioning it. Building models where creators can retain IP and share in success - ensuring British content remains British-owned.

And above all, it would mean behaving more like the National Lottery than ITV. Dispersing value, not hoarding it.

Right now, the BBC is clinging to a legacy content model while pretending to be digitally innovative. It’s not. It’s simply exporting the same commissioning behaviour onto new platforms.

However, the next generation of talent doesn’t want a commissioner. They want a partner. A validator. A mentor. A distribution engine that isn’t trying to edge them out.

That’s what Auntie could become - IF she remembered who she was. If she stopped tearing up the rulebook just to play the commercial game.

Don’t believe me? I used to work there. I know exactly how it runs, so don’t let them say otherwise. I love the BBC. Truly. But I think it’s totally lost its way. It wants to champion diversity and that's commendable but all it seems to do is shuffle some minority faces onto screen and into production teams - that’s not going to fix the problem. Diversity isn't just about what's shown on screen - it's in a shows DNA, the thought behind the content.

Marginalised communities are already making content - they’re just doing it elsewhere, in their own networks, their own shows. If the BBC really wants to support diversity, it needs to elevate those voices and that content. Auntie needs to understand the more she fights to stay relevant, the more she risks becoming irrelevant altogether. She needs to be the thought leader, not the reactive follower, the champion of the British creator - the local voices that make communities great.

I believe the BBC wasn’t built to dominate the market - she was built to elevate it - and unless she reinvents herself soon, she won’t just lose the argument for the licence fee. She’ll lose the trust and the future of the very public she was meant to serve.