The BBC I know has a toxic culture – and freelancers are fodder for it

By relying on casual workers who have little career stability and feel as though they cannot speak up on key issues, the corporation has fostered an environment of silence and fear, writes Karishma Patel

I remember being told as a BBC freelancer that I’d have to be underpaid. There wasn’t enough in the budget to pay me the journalist rate (though this was a journalist role), so I’d have to settle for the much lower researcher rate. But it was, I was assured, a great opportunity.

I didn’t take it up – but most would have.

It isn’t uncommon to be stuck freelancing at the BBC for years, to take whatever you’re offered just to “get in the building”, as journalists there tend to say. Freelancing comes in the form of being booked for shifts by the day, or being put on a string of short-term contracts called “attachments”. This suits some, who are flexibly taking shifts across different news outlets, but for those seeking stability or a steady career progression, it’s anxiety-inducing.

The BBC contract is like gold dust, with hundreds of applications for each role that goes up on the website. External applicants barely have a shot, so the best chance is to be in the newsroom as a freelancer and wait your turn – so many of the roles, after all, are quietly earmarked for certain journalists already seen to “fit” within the team.

All of this feeds into a wider culture of silence, though, and there’s little accountability when it comes to letting freelancers go. Attachments might simply not get renewed, or available shifts might suddenly dry up. You might never know why you were deemed a “bad fit”, or why you were passed over for a contract – but you need to stay on good terms with your editor in the hope of ever working there again in the future.

In this environment, many journalists are afraid to speak their minds – to challenge editorial decisions or speak freely to powerful presenters and executives. This isn’t a newsroom environment conducive to robust journalism – a profession all about the pursuit of truth and accountability. The BBC should want journalists to be editorially brave, to have a backbone, to raise important points and questions in pitch meetings, and to voice concerns if a questionable order is barked at them across the newsroom.

The BBC’s recent workplace culture review makes it seem like there are merely a few bad apples, stating: “Even though they are small in number, their behaviour creates large ripples which negatively impact the BBC’s culture and external reputation”.

But it’s the BBC’s culture itself that’s to blame.

As well as keeping journalists on edge with freelance contracts, there’s a tendency to promote certain people into stardom, offering them incredible support and breakout on-air opportunities, while others are stuck working diligently with little credit for years. These stars are called “talent”. They’re top of the food chain, are often untouchable and, as the label suggests, they’re seen as especially talented.

I remember a presenter once calling me “gorgeous” when I handed over some notes. I recoiled. He’s known for being inappropriate to young women – but he’s still there. I’ve also seen producers crying in toilets after being shouted at by presenters, and journalists who feel sick with anxiety when they have to work with certain big names.

Executives often act as a buffer for these stars when they step out of line. But the backbone of the BBC is the producer class, the band C, mid-level journalists forming the core of every team, namelessly doing the bulk of the work. Some are freelancers, others are on long-term contracts. Because even if you do get that coveted BBC contract, you might still never see the opportunities you deserve, and you might still find yourself unheard – particularly if you’re a journalist from a minority background, and your passions or concerns are mistaken for “bias” in a monocultural newsroom. The BBC needs to focus on safeguarding and listening to journalists at this level, not just to protect editorial integrity but also for the wellbeing of staff. There are too many hierarchies in the BBC, impacting how outspoken people can afford to be: talent above producers, contract staff above freelancers.

It’s important the public understands how far editorial policy can be silently shaped by even the possibility of anger from certain groups, foreign governments, our own government, mega-corporations – any powerful actor – and how crucial it is that more junior journalists who see it can speak up.

I’ve seen editorial decisions made out of fear of external complaints, or anger from our own higher-ups – whether over Gaza or Boris Johnson’s lies in office. I’ve seen editors jolt back from certain stories because – like touching something hot – they expect to get burnt. Under these conditions, more and more journalists have taken the path of least resistance, choosing words and stories that will cause the least upset. These unsound editorial decisions – long unchallenged – can solidify into unspoken editorial policy, chipping away at the BBC’s impartiality.

This is partly why over a hundred BBC journalists signed a public letter, which I organised, in a move highlighting they only felt safe to express their calls for editorial change over Gaza anonymously. So many have had to do the quiet calculus of knowing that if they openly say what they think, their careers might be negatively impacted.

“The BBC does not have a toxic culture”, reads the overview of the BBC’s new workplace culture report. But, in my opinion, it is a toxic culture – one that’s allowed more than a few bad apples and bad editorial decisions to thrive.

The organisation needs to carefully consider the many hierarchies at play inside its buildings, and how these hierarchies are preventing journalists from speaking openly – about everything from inappropriate presenters to editorial issues.

“If liberty means anything at all”, wrote George Orwell, whose statue stands outside the BBC’s New Broadcasting House headquarters in London, “it means the right to tell people what they do not want to hear.”

Karishma Patel is a former BBC newsreader and journalist