John Craven - Innovator turned part of the TV Furniture

Remember the TV news as it used to be? At primary school age, I hated the news. All that bleak stuff in black and white would have looked no brighter in colour. Vietnam, the Northern Ireland Troubles, industrial relations bills, Heath and Wilson, would be paraded night after night following the Magic Roundabout or Grandstand, boring me to tears.

Without exception the bulletins were read by middle-aged blokes like ITV’s Sandy Gall and Alastair Burnet or the Beeb’s Richard Baker and Kenneth Kendall, sitting stiffly behind a desk, an emergency phone its only ornament. Then, in April 1972, along came John Craven’s Newsround, and current affairs broadcasting would never be the same again.

Although already in his thirties John Craven was a breath of fresh air. The programme may have been scheduled in the middle of ‘children’s hour’ at around five o’clock but this was no dumbed-down bulletin focussed on Action Man sales or fluffy animals. Newsround treated its young audience as intelligent human beings, the BBC’s credentials for integrity and impartiality present and correct, as were many of the ‘grown up’ Evening News’ correspondents like Martin Bell or Reg Turnill.

There was no soft-soaping the major stories, either. Whether it was economic crisis, Cold War clashes or papal assassination attempts, they were all featured. The running order might sometimes have been different from the BBC’s 5.40 (later Six) broadcast but the only concession to the younger viewer was the use of more accessible, more measured language.

I particularly loved the science and environmental stories, usually ignored or downplayed in the main bulletins. This was a major factor in my viewing Newsround  not just into my secondary school years but well into my teens. Even a current affairs connoisseur like Dad was suitably impressed.

During the ‘70s, John Craven became more and more casual in his appearance. The initial ties were discarded, colourful pullovers taking over, and (shock, horror!) he would sit in front of, not behind, the desk. Two decades later, the media marvelled at Channel 5’s fresh innovation of Kirsty Young doing the same but although John didn’t parade any shapely pins, he was way ahead of his time.

My Newsround days were almost totally behind me by the time John Craven departed in 1989. At first glance I mistook one of his successors, the late Helen Rollason as his daughter. Well, she had similar hair and eyes. Enough to confuse little ol’ me, anyway. As for Craven, he more or less disappeared from my TV - but not everyone else’s. I once caught him with Kenny Everett but I’d never seen him at the weekend on Swap Shop or its successor Saturday Superstore and I wasn’t about to join the Sunday morning cult audience for a new topical feature strand on rural affairs called Country File.

Working in audience research at the Beeb I did observe its growth in popularity. More significantly, so did senior managers, schedulers and channel controllers. Mum raved about it, too. However, it wasn’t until Countryfile was promoted to a primetime slot in 2009 that I dipped my toe in the water. The association with John Craven was, admittedly, a prime motive.

I never made the programme a weekly staple but, when living alone, it was one of those useful ‘filler’ shows I could watch with one eye whilst eating or ironing. The week’s weather segment near the end was a major draw but, while I found a full hour of ploughing, salt marsh conversion and cattle auctions a tad overwhelming, the most interesting pieces were those presented by good old John Craven.

The mop of dark hair may have turned silver but there was something comforting about seeing John, his gentle Yorkshire voice intact, rocking up in his unblemished bright red or blue waxed jacket, an elbow perched on a wooden gatepost. No matter the stunning bucolic backdrop, he would totally command my attention. It wasn’t just about being terribly nice. It was his topical investigative reports I would look out for. Besides the Newsround heritage factor, he was authoritative yet accessible – the perfect combination.

In the last decade, save for seemingly endless promotion of the annual Countryfile calendar photography competition, John Craven’s appearances on screen have become more sporadic as ruddy-cheeked youth has advanced to the fore. But however much Matt Baker, Tom Heap, Ellie Harrison or Anita Rani attempt the same casual bonhomie, it’s never quite the same. 

We all have much to thank John Craven for. He has been largely responsible for not one, but two British TV institutions creeping out of the shadows into the spotlight. That is no mere coincidence.