Mind Over Antimatter

Illustrative purposes only – will be removed on request

Spoilers for Doctor Who’s ‘Planet Of Evil’, Buffy The Vampire Slayer’s ‘Normal Again’ and Space 1999’s ‘Matter Of Life And Death’ follow.

I’ve been watching a lot of old SF TV and films recently, and have now reached the mid-’70s. Well, I say that. What I’m actually doing is following Anderson productions through from ‘The Dark Side Of The Sun’ down towards the present, but that isn’t exactly my focus today because I’ve noticed two interestingly similar uses of a science fiction motif which don’t seem to make a lot of sense, one in ‘Space: 1999’ and one in ‘Doctor Who’: antimatter.

Antimatter is definitely not what it’s shown to be in either of these. Starting with ‘Doctor Who’, there’s the serial ‘Planet Of Evil’, whose air dates are 27th September to the 18th October 1975, and with ‘Space 1999’ (is there a colon there?), the episode ‘A Matter Of Life And Death’, broadcast on 27th November 1975. Hence these two are very close together. This could almost be titled ‘The Depiction Of Antimatter In British SF Shows of autumn 1975’. The weird thing about the two of these is that both of them make antimatter into something it absolutely is not.

I’m going to start with describing what antimatter really is, how it was discovered and so forth. The first hint that antimatter was possible was Paul Dirac’s 1928 CE paper ‘The Quantum Theory Of The Electron’ which pointed out that there didn’t seem to be any reason why electrons should have negative charge. They just did. Now there’s a device called a cloud chamber, which contains humid air almost at the point where it starts to form droplets of water in a fog, and this is used to detect subatomic particles, which leave vapour trails behind them due to upsetting the delicate balance of the conditions. Other, similar devices are bubble and spark chambers. If a magnetic field is applied through a cloud chamber, it unsurprisingly causes charged particles to curve in a direction corresponding to their charge, so for example α particles, which are doubly positively charged helium nuclei, will go one way and electrons, which are negatively charged, will go the other. At any time, cosmic rays are passing through the atmosphere, objects on Earth and Earth itself in the case of neutrinos, so any cloud chamber will detect various particles from those, although most are filtered out by Earth’s own magnetic field. Thus you get a wide “zoo” of different kinds of particles constantly raining down from space, including β particles, which are just fast electrons and can be bent by a magnetic field. At some vague and disputed time in the late 1920s CE, scientists began to notice that not only were there electrons, but there were also other particles which seemed to be exactly the same as electrons except for one thing: they bent the other way in a magnetic field. In other words, they were positively rather than negatively charged. These particles were dubbed “positrons”.

Since I’m primarily talking about fiction here, I’m going to talk about Isaac Asimov’s use of these in his “positronic robots”. Asimov’s robot stories are primarily about the ethics practiced by said robots, but there’s a blurry technical background to them in that they all have positronic brains. This is essentially technobabble, but the idea is that robots’ heads contain something rather like a computer (and Asimov’s first stories in this vein more or less predate the invention of the digital computer) made of platinum-iridium alloy which operates by the creation and destruction of positrons. On one occasion, Asimov comments “no, I don’t know how this is done”. Since his focus is on the Three Laws, this is just off happening to one side and is rarely the focus of his fiction, but one thing he does say is that a positronic brain cannot be made without conforming to those laws. However, the reason for this seems to be that they have been such a central part of the ethics of US Robots that in order to do so, one would have to reinvent the wheel, so it isn’t that there’s a fundamental physical principle that makes this impossible. That said, in one of his stories a human character is captured by an alien robot which also obeys the Three Laws to the extent that it, too, “cannot harm a human being or through inaction allow a human being to come to harm”, so it seems that whereas there is no physical reason why using positrons prevents a robot from acting unethically, it’s more like the utility and function of such a machine is fundamentally ethical, in the same way as, for instance, any light source is going to have to emit visible light to be worthy of the name, so there is a reason why they’re like that which is as immutable as the principle of using positrons, but it works on a different basis which is more social, perhaps related to Asimov’s other big concept, psychohistory.

Although all of this is very vague, it’s still possible to discern a limited amount of nebulous creativity around the concept, if it’s worthy of that name. Platiniridium, as the alloy is in reality known, has some real world features which communicate something about the situation. Their use signals that the positronic brain is of extremely high value, since platinum is dearer than gold. The two metals are among the heaviest, that is the densest, of the chemical elements, communicating that positronic brains are very weighty, i.e. important. Platinum also has the reputation of being shiny, so it’s bright, an attribute which can be used metaphorically for intelligence, and also a sense of high technology – a gleaming bright ultra-scientific future. I can’t say that all of these things were operating in Asimov’s mind when he thought of it, but they are all in there for a reader. Another less obvious aspect, bearing in mind that he was originally a chemist, is that the alloy is particularly unreactive and has a very high melting point, so it’s resistant to physical assaults, which is what constant bombardment with positrons would be. However, this can’t be taken far beyond the figurative realm because in fact there’s no reason to suppose, and nor was there in the 1930s, that platiniridium would be any more resistant to damage from positrons than any other kind of atomic matter. If significant amounts of positrons were moving through platiniridium alloy, they would increasingly ionise both elements, they would become oxidised and probably melt from the extreme heat generated.

There does in fact seem to be a way of building a valve-based positronic computer, and it would have certain advantages, one of which is that it wouldn’t need an external power source, but any such device would also be extremely radioactive and dangerous, so it could only really safely operate in deep space, and there’s no particular reason for doing so. Another area in which positrons could be said to have sort of come up is in the electron holes which allow transistors, and therefore microchips, to operate. These are the absence of particles behaving as if they’re real, but oppositely charged, so if there could be a form of matter allowing electrons and positrons to co-exist, this would be a genuine aspect of computing where they would have a rôle. However, Asimov was writing at a time before electronic digital computers existed as such. Colossus, the first stored-program digital computer, was built in 1943, three years after ‘Robbie’ was written. Also, although the possibility of antimatter had first been thought of in 1898, at the time he was writing, positrons were en vogue but other antiparticles had yet to be detected and were probably absent from even the scientifically-educated public consciousness, though of course not to actual physicists.

The key feature of positrons in this usage was probably their ephemeral nature, like that of thoughts in the conscious mind, and in general there is no complex set of ideas in his fiction to back this particular one up. In fact it’s rather unusual in that respect, as he was a professional scientist and often provided a lot of technical detail regarding such things. For instance, at around the same time he wrote a story about a spoon made of ammonium ions which looked exactly like it was made of metal but turned out to stink horribly and was therefore unusable, and this is based on the common observation that the ammonium ion, NH4+, behaves rather similarly to an alkali metal such as sodium or potassium and could perhaps be made to form into a bulk metal in some way. This is speculative, to be sure, and doubtless impractical, but the scientific detail involved is considerable and important. Compared to that, his positronic brain is very vague. In fact, whereas Asimov is generally a hard science fiction writer, the only major exception being the usual one of allowing faster-than-light travel when he’s actually writing SF as opposed to fantasy, the positronic brain is more a soft sci-fi idea, more like a light sabre or a food pill than a robot (ironically) or an alien.

The concept was borrowed from his work into a number of others, including ‘Doctor Who’ and ‘Star Trek’. The earliest mention in the former seems to be in 1966, in the Second Doctor story ‘The Power Of The Daleks’, where a character erroneously speculates that the Daleks might be controlled by one. In ‘The Evil Of The Daleks’, broadcast the same year, the same regeneration attempts to implant the “human factor” into such a device, to be placed in a Dalek. Later, in the Fourth Doctor serial ‘The Horns Of Nimon’, a robot is understood to be controlled by a “positronic circuit”. In ‘Star Trek’, the android known as Data has a positronic brain, and the phrase “Asimov’s dream of a positronic brain” is used at one point as if it was a well thought-out concept with firm theoretical underpinnings, and also some sort of technological Holy Grail. In the ‘Star Trek’ universe, they’re supposed to have the ability to configure and program themselves in a way which would be impossible with electronic circuitry. What the concept does, insofar as it is one rather than just a vague idea, is create a non-existent type of technology which can have all sorts of things projected onto it without annoying plausible scientific facts getting in the way. I’d go so far as to say ‘Doctor Who’ does the same thing, particularly where the human factor is being induced into the Daleks using them. When asked about whether his robots were conscious, Asimov replied that they were, and ‘Reason’ certainly suggests that they are through the deployment of the Cartesian method of doubt by QT-1. If you believe that some objects are conscious and others not, as most adults in the West probably do right now, you are stuck with the problem of what could make something like a computer conscious, and his solution to that, and even more so that of ‘Star Trek’ and ‘Doctor Who’, is to posit the positron as a potentially perceiving particle. This is possible because it’s outside everyday experience.

Positrons are simply one example of antimatter, and moreover, one which managed to escape from the general science-fictional concept, possibly because although they are anti-electrons they’re only rarely called that. The wider concept of antimatter turns up particularly in the matter-antimatter generators which release energy to power star drives in all sorts of stories, and this, assuming antimatter can be manufactured in bulk, is an entirely feasible use, because the total energy locked up in matter and antimatter would be released if they came into contact with each other, usually creating an almighty explosion. This is what the equation E=mc2 expresses, or rather, it expresses the quantity of energy present in matter. There’s enough energy in a single grain of sugar to keep the population of Melton Mowbray alive for life, and from this it can be seen that chemical energy is ridiculously inefficient. However, such a prodigious release of energy is potentially very dangerous, and this has been used in science fiction as well, in the form of the Total Conversion Bomb.

These are both relatively scientifically plausible ideas, and given that enough antimatter could be found or produced, both would be entirely feasible. They blow fusion power and bombs out of the water of course, and given that existing weapons of mass destruction are worrying enough, they may not be desirable but the fact remains that they probably could exist quite easily. But for some reason, in autumn 1975 two science fiction TV series ended up using the concept of antimatter in a really weird way which is completely alien to scientific theory and shows no signs of ever being realistic.

The first of these is ‘Planet Of Evil’, a Doctor Who adventure, with the classic Fourth Doctor and Sarah-Jane Smith lineup at the start of the Hinchcliffe era. I read the Terrance Dicks novelisation rather than the TV version, probably because I was watching ‘Space 1999’ on the Other Side! The Tardis picks up a distress signal from Zeta Minor, a planet on the edge of the Universe, over thirty thousand years in the future from whenever Sarah Jane comes from (see Unit Dating Controversy) in the year 37 166 CE. It turns out there’s an antimatter monster on the planet who is killing everyone, and is able to pass between this Universe and the antimatter Universe via a pool of antimatter, which is black and has no reflections. The Morestrans are a species or race whose sun is going out and they’ve arrived on the planet to mine antimatter ore, which will provide energy for their planet for generations to come. However, the antimatter is prevented from leaving the planet by the planet itself, and it also acts like the potion in ‘Strange Case Of Doctor Jekyll And Mister Hyde’ by gradually bringing out a primal, evil side in people.

To analyse this, antimatter in this does seem to share some properties with real antimatter in one way, sort of, in that it provides a prodigious source of energy. However, it isn’t clear that this is only because it interacts with matter, which is potentially just as good a source. It isn’t a property of antimatter specifically. Antimatter also seems to be “evil”. It opposes matter in the sense that it’s its enemy. In a sense this is also true, because matter and antimatter are each others’ enemies in that they annihilate each other, but here it’s more like matter is good and antimatter evil. I haven’t read Robert Louis Stevenson’s novella so I don’t know if he goes into what’s in the potion or whatever, but I suspect that antimatter here is largely a plot device to represent that potion in an updated way. The idea of antimatter being present in an ore of ordinary matter probably doesn’t make much sense, because if there were actual atoms of antimatter, there’d also have to be a way to prevent them from coming into contact with matter or they would immediately mutually wipe each other out. The idea that such a thing could exist somewhere “out there” depends on Einstein’s famous dictum that “the Universe is not only stranger than we imagine, but stranger than we can imagine”. This is clearly true, but there’s no reason to suppose that antimatter ore made largely of matter is possible at all. To me, it suggests some kind of electromagnetic suspension of particles in a cage-like crystal structure, and it might happen that positrons could be captured by positively charged ions in a rock. This raises the question of how close bits of matter and antimatter could get before they interact destructively, and this is an important issue because of the quantum mechanical implications of the probability of a particular particle being in a specific location. Given that, it seems that two pieces of matter and antimatter approaching each other would increase their probability of annihilation as they got closer, which also means there’s an issue regarding the speed of light. But all of this is beside the point because it isn’t about the properties of real matter and antimatter but what it means in this ‘Doctor Who’ story, which being based on the novella will presumably be to do with the potential for good and evil coexisting in all of us and in Victorian terms the hypocrisy of private actions and public appearances, which is likely still to have been valid in 1974, when I presume it was written, and of course today. Given our current hindsight and the likes of Savile at the BBC doing what he did, and this being kept quiet or just rationalised away, ‘Face Of Evil’ comes across in a more sinister way as almost a commentary on child abuse happening at the time. In this context, antimatter becomes the inner evil, secret, hidden side, and there’s also a sense of greed in wanting the power from antimatter ore and that power corrupting.

The location of the planet, at the edge of the Universe, is probably also relevant and in fact this is what I mainly got from reading it. The pool, mysterious and bottomless, is like a portal into a neighbouring universe where antimatter dominates. I get the impression that there’s a kind of “Duoverse” with a plane down the middle, with matter on one side and antimatter on the other, and that the two sides are in an uneasy truce. Zeta Minor is like a border checkpoint between two mutually hostile territories. There’s also the influence of ‘Forbidden Planet’ and therefore also ‘The Tempest’, and the Doctor does in fact quote Shakespeare in the story. The famous jungle set is clearly linked to the isle which is “full of noises”. The monster is thus very obviously Caliban, although the story is directly based on the film rather than the play and there are differences. The semi-visible monster closely resembles that in the film, and in the case of the Doctor Who story the semi-visibility is to do with it only being partly in our Universe, i.e. world, and incapable of reaching all the way into it, and therefore being essentially other-wordly. But the trouble is that I can’t go into much depth about ‘Planet Of Evil’ because of my unfamiliarity with it, and also with Shakespeare and Robert Louis Stevenson.

The other example is much fresher in my mind, as I only watched it yesterday. ‘Space 1999: Matter Of Life And Death’, and I think there’s no article in this title either, so it refers directly to antimatter having those fundamental qualities, or perhaps matter being life and antimatter being death. So far, the entire series of ‘Space 1999’ has seemed quite odd to me, being closer to space horror like ‘Alien’ and ‘Event Horizon’, and of course the children’s book ‘Galactic Aliens’, than science fiction or space opera. Then again, ‘Doctor Who’, particularly of the Hinchcliffe Era, has strong elements of that genre too, but because it wasn’t on the Other Side, I might judge it less harshly. Even so, ‘Matter Of Life And Death’ is a problematic episode among many of the same in the series, which however I’ll leave largely aside for a future date. If the viewer takes the idea that Helen Russell is simply being allowed to see things less apocalyptically after the calamity at the climax of the episode, it makes the whole of the rest of the series take place in her imagination. It’s very like the Buffy episode ‘Normal Again’, but if a series of such high quality is allowed to do that, so should ‘Space 1999’ be judged fairly. In any event, I’m not here to discuss the whole of that series in depth although it is worth remembering that this is very far indeed from hard SF at this point.

Here’s the plot: An Eagle reconnaissance mission has discovered an apparently perfect planet for human life, which is named Terra Nova. During their visit, their craft is struck by lightning, knocking both crew members senseless, and returns automatically to Moonbase Alpha. When it lands, Dr Helen Russell goes aboard to find a third person present: her missing presumed dead husband, mysteriously revived and present on a distant planet he never went anywhere near, as far as she knows. When taken to Alpha’s medical bay, their equipment is unable to detect heartbeat or any other vital signs and it also turns out that he only has a normal pattern of body heat when he’s in her presence. There is pressure to discover more about the planet and considerable enthusiasm to settle on it, so he’s injected with a dangerous stimulant drug. He’s monosyllabic and largely unresponsive to everyone after this except his wife, with whom he has a more involved conversation and others conclude that he is using her life force to sustain his own life. He’s taken to be questioned and says he can’t tell where he came from but can tell them the planet is dangerous to them. He also says that Terra Nova is inhabited, “but not in the way you think”, then dies when he hears they will go there anyway. After his death, his body begins to “reverse polarity” (it actually says that!), which is a sign that it’s going to become antimatter, and this is dangerous because of the release of energy which will probably destroy Moonbase Alpha when it’s complete. The corpse then vanishes, after shocking someone with a burst of energy. They land on the planet. All seems well at first, and in fact this scene of their arrival is one of the few in the series I clearly remember. Everything seems fine, with parrots, edible fruit, breathable air and potable water. Then the Moonbase fails and the entire satellite explodes, a landslide kills Koenig and Sandra goes blind. After all that, Helen’s husband appears again and tells her it’s all about perception and she can choose to see things the way they were.

This is a largely unsatisfactory story of course, partly because it’s in the “it was all a dream” category, which at least one other ‘Space 1999’ episode, and also an episode of ‘UFO’ also do, and this is really scraping the bottom of the barrel. It’s been seriously suggested that the writers were on acid when they came up with the idea, but leaving all that aside it’s still interesting to consider how it portrays antimatter. First of all, apparently a gradual transition from matter to antimatter is possible. Professor Bergman refers to “reversed polarity”, which I think is probably also a reference to ‘Doctor Who’, but also presumably means there’s an intermediate stage during which the subatomic particles making up the corpse only have some of their properties reversed, such as spin or charge, without being fully-fledged antiparticles. To be honest I do have some sympathy with the idea of there being particles preserving symmetry in other ways, but I get the feeling this is a very naïve view of physics, so I’m going to stick with the idea that it’s all or nothing: something is either a specific particle or its antiparticle with nothing in between. Otherwise it would be like saying something is slightly reflected. Alternatively, maybe it means that some of the particles have converted but others haven’t, which is again unfeasible as this would cause a huge surge of energy fuelled by mutual annihilation.

This episode is clearly inspired by ‘Solaris’, originally a story by Stanisław Lem and later made into two films (and an operating system). However, for some reason both films and the novel are so much better than this. ‘Solaris’ is extremely thought-provoking and lends itself to many interpretations. Its sentient ocean is replaced here by antimatter, which has a protean nature and is utterly alien. The idea seems to be that antimatter does not belong in this Universe but is able to mix with it to a limited extent, and is essentially mysterious and incomprehensible to us. The statement that the planet both is and is not inhabited is part of this. It corresponds to a wider sense of mystery and alienness found throughout the series. And of course, antimatter is once again metaphorical.

I can only presume that the concept of antimatter was topical at the time due to some kind of scientific breakthrough, which led to it being included in these scripts. Having said that, I do think the perception of antimatter is significant for both. The particle I think of as “gypsy”, also known as a psion or psi meson, was detected first in 1974, and whether it was valid or not there was also the idea that atomic matter included a small admixture of charmed matter where one of the quarks of a nucleon was replaced by a charm quark. This is not the same as antimatter, because there’s no fundamental incompatibility involved, but I don’t know if it’s actually the case or possible. My own impression of charm at the time was that it made some nucleons slightly more massive, causing matter to clump together in the form of galaxies rather than be spread smoothly throughout the Universe, but please remember I was only seven at the time and didn’t know much about nuclear physics. In any event, if this kind of mixture was a current idea in science at the time, the popular understanding of it might allow for the notion that there could be a metastable mixture of matter and antimatter which lasted more than a tiny fraction of a nanosecond but was still unstable over a short term compared to a human lifespan, and this mixture idea occurs in both works – the corpse in ‘Space 1999’ and the ore in ‘Doctor Who’. Both of them include a strong component of otherness in their idea of antimatter. In ‘Planet Of Evil’ it seems to be linked to ideas of horror and another universe at war with this one, which is kind of metaphorically true of matter and antimatter. In ‘Matter Of Life And Death’, antimatter is dangerous but also just utterly alien and beyond our understanding, and may also be linked to the idea of the Other Side in the sense of a spirit world beyond death. There’s an occult flavour to both of these.

On one level I find it quite annoying when scientific concepts are used like this. There doesn’t seem to be a good reason for using those specific ideas rather than something more fantastic and obviously made up which has no pretensions to a scientific basis. On another, I do have sympathy with it, because it attempts to express the essential mystery of what I might call “The Beyond”. There’s a very human projection here of fear of the unknown, but also sense of wonder, which is essential to science fiction. I’m not sure whether I’d describe either of these series as science fiction though.

One of the factors in play here is having to put series on screen for popular consumption. ‘Star Trek’ has this issue too, as do probably all TV series aiming for more than a niche audience. It’s like the limeflower tea sold in supermarkets which also has lime peel in it because that’s what some consumers expect. On the other hand, a character in ‘Space 1999’ itself makes an interesting point in another episode, that as time goes by a mythology for the modern age will be created, and it’s possible that this is what’s happening here. But we also have to live in a scientifically literate civilisation.

I’ve also noticed that I’m a lot more forgiving of technobabble and its consequences on ‘Doctor Who’ than I am on ‘Space 1999’, and I can’t help thinking that this is simply because the latter is on the Other Side. Maybe to me, BBC TV matters, and ITV antimatters.

Too Much TV

Photo by Ksenia Chernaya on Pexels.com

I can’t remember when I was first aware of the concept that watching too much television was bad for you. It may have been extremely early because I can remember when the only TV I was allowed to watch was ‘Vision On’. I’m not sure how accurate that memory is of course, since I also seem to be able to recall earlier programmes than that. It’s probably more correct to say that the idea has always been with me, presumably introduced by my mother.

It used to be fashionable to make this claim but it’s now fallen out of the limelight somewhat. It isn’t that there’s no tendency who still believe it’s bad for you so much as that TV is no longer at the cutting edge of technology and we are now focussing our concerns on things like echo chambers and public shaming on social media, fake news and the like. The concern hasn’t gone away but it’s been swamped by a lot of other concerns.

My early attempts at diarising used to include a breakdown of various figures, including my resting pulse rate and how much TV I’d watched that day. This would probably have been in about 1979, and it led me to concentrate fairly strongly on the fact. I was aware of why it was supposed to be a bad idea, and for me with my ADH”D” it was probably even worse, but I may have turned it into a bit of an obsession. It was also mixed with my disapproval of colour television, which was probably a means of dealing with cognitive dissonance, since we only had black and white, but also I clearly do have a kind of constitutional bias towards the monochrome because my teachers used to thing I was completely colour blind, since I only ever used ordinary pencils to draw pictures, completely un-self-consciously. Although my watching was rationed as a child, I was willing to manage that myself, and I found the world a fascinating place, spending a lot of time looking at things through microscopes, exploring nearby woods, lakes, streams and the back garden, doing stuff with chemicals and so forth, and also reading one heck of a lot.

I’ll take a guess that the 405-line TV set we had in my earlier childhood was probably about 18″, which is forty-five centimetres, as was the later PAL TV set. In 1978 this was replaced by a 12″ (thirty centimetre) screen portable which survived into the next century, despite being allegedly abused for years as a display for a ZX81, Jupiter Ace and Acorn Electron, the last of which eventually got a composite video CRT monitor with a vertical hold problem. This raises the second sense in which one might be watching “too much” television, as mentioned in an advert in about ’78: how big should the screen be? How far away? The girl watching the telly above is definitely too close.

From about 1980, I became an avid radio listener and preferred it to TV most of the time, because as the cliché has it, “the pictures are better on the radio”. I do in fact believe this has done my visual imagination a lot of good, and another effect it had was to crowd out TV watching. By 1982 I was only really watching the occasional programme on telly, mainly ‘Top Of The Pops’, and this continued through the ’80s with me watching less and less television until 1989, when I got a donated TV from the care home one of my flat mates worked at. I can still recall us all sitting in the living room eating dinner with the as yet not turned on television staring at us hypnotically like a baleful eye, willing us all to switch it on. However, I didn’t watch it for long because we didn’t have a licence and on being visited by the licence people I loaded it onto a shopping trolley and wheeled it round the corner to a friends’ house. That said, I did watch ‘Casualty’ from the start, and also ‘EastEnders’ for a while. Channel 4 was for a long time a closed book to me because it was practically impossible to watch with its reception. We lived very close to a TV mast and there was, I hear, a blind spot effect which meant we couldn’t really use it but had to use a more distant transmitter at the edge of its range. When I went to university, I used to watch television on Thursday evenings, that well-known peak of quality which most Gen-Xers in Britain will recall, during my first year.

TV news I have long held in considerable contempt, and this is not entirely due to any questions of political bias. No, the reasons I dislike television news is that the nature of the medium leads to a more subtle and kind of apolitical bias, as does journalism more generally. One problem with TV news is that it tends to approach stories (more on that word in a second) according to how visually effective they’re likely to be, and there’s a general tendency in journalism to sensationalise, to make something into a “story” when that’s not necessarily an accurate depiction of how events unfold, and to put a negative spin on issues. There’s also some personalisation when it’s inappropriate. Consequently I stopped watching TV news in 1986 and haven’t been keen on it ever since. The clinching moments were when a major NHS reorganisation occupied half the bulletin on the radio but a few seconds on the TV, and when a new England football manager was the first story on the TV news. Radio news has also suffered recently from an apparent merging of TV and radio news services, where we hear the audio from TV news reports instead of separate radio news reports. I may be wrong about this and would welcome input. However, none of this is about political bias as such, unless some kind of political leaning can be extracted from these issues. Maybe it can. But I would fully hope that someone with right wing views would agree with me on these points. Naturally I also believe that BBC news has a right wing bias but then I would, wouldn’t I? There’s also a tendency for news stories to be “discovered” when it has long been common knowledge for the groups affected.

I’ve just casually measured what I consider to be our fairly large television, and it came out at two cubits across diagonally. Apparently it’s a 32″, which in real money is eighty centimetres, so my guess is an overestimate. One of the nice things about the old 4:3 ratio of screens was that it meant the diagonal could be known to be five units across because of the 3:4:5 right angled triangle. The hypotenuse on a 16:9 screen is now ~18.3576, which is a bit of a mess. I also wonder about that ratio because it’s the opposite of portrait. What would it be like to have a portrait “channel” on TV? Much news footage nowadays is off people’s ‘phones, and consequently in a ratio which is more like 9:16, so there’s always the problem of the side bars, just as there used to be with the top and bottom with widescreen cinema on telly. I would imagine there’d be more talking heads on such a channel. Do we need tall telly?

My main point, though, is that the area of this not particularly large TV display is over a square metre. In the olden days a big colour TV would’ve been 26″, whose area was a fifth of that size. This is what I mean by “too much telly”. That said, it also appeals to me to think of an entire wall occupied by a display, although that display could then do things like double as a fake window, show wallpaper patterns and so forth. In a way it would cease to be a television. But then the old high-definition televisions used by the Nazis weren’t designed for programmes either. The Nazis had a slow-scan television system for transmitting maps and charts, so they were more like temporary faxes. High-definition TV has also existed in the sense we understand it today for quite some time. The French television system was apparently close to high-definition, being an 819-line standard, although to me it looked the same as PAL and I think they were phasing it out the first few times I went to France. I don’t understand how the French television system worked back then, or why they seem to have replaced it by what sounds like an inferior standard. Again, I’d welcome more information on this. Meanwhile in Japan, an 1125-line system was developed from 1979, although the visible resolution was only 1035, and like other television systems of the time it was interlaced rather than progressive. That is, alternate lines were displayed every other frame.

I tend to feel that a smaller screen dominates your life less than a larger one, and is less “hypnotic”. Nonetheless we do have a “large” television by the standards of a few decades ago, and we do watch a fair bit of TV.

We pursued a campaign of giving up television in the late ’90s to early ‘noughties. This began with us observing Lent by not watching television, and was motivated by our concern that the children did not self-moderate their television watching in spite of many claims that they did. The purchase of a PC capable of playing DVDs and the replacement of its CD-ROM drive in 2004 was supposed to seal the fate of television watching in our household. Unfortunately, this closely coincided with the beginning of YouTube and streaming services along with the popularity of DVD video, so it actually ended up with all of us having more screen time than when we’d used a television set to pick up broadcast analogue channels, so it didn’t really work. All of this also meant that to some extent the way TV works nowadays is a closed book to me, because I’ve never used it in that way. It also puzzled me that TV was so persistent. I expected it to be killed by YouTube, and later by streaming services, but this has not happened. I think there are two main reasons for that, one negative, one positive. On the negative side, TV watching tends to be a passive activity to some extent. People sit and watch it, or have it on in the background. The same isn’t true of streaming services because you actively have to seek out content. More positively, serendipity is a larger factor in TV watching, and this is good for several reasons. It means you get exposed to things you wouldn’t have sought out, which widens your experience, and it also means you don’t get channelled into a personal bubble.

I have a number of YouTube channels which I rarely bother with, although I went through a phase of pushing one of them for a year and it now has something like five hundred videos on it. In the process of doing so, I noticed that negative comments tended to be from accounts whose channels had no uploads. This might be due to people keeping troll accounts for the purposes of harassing other users, but more often I think it says something about the nature of trolling and something more general. As Sarada mentioned the other day, negative responses often seem to result from people holding themselves to impossibly high standards of content, which leads them not to produce their own content. This is a little like my criticism of multinational companies and tendency to do very little because sometimes it seems like doing anything carries the risk of harming others. Consequently it makes sense that negative YouTube comments are often from channels with no content. On the other hand, these users could be like people using YouTube as if it’s a television, in that they watch things but don’t contribute, and then feel entitled to complain about quality or opinions expressed for some reason. This probably isn’t helped by the constant drive towards impersonality and “safe” content by YouTube itself. The rewards, financial or otherwise, for the average YouTuber are practically zero, and in fact even before demonetisation was a thing there, I didn’t receive a single penny from them even though one of my channels had millions of views at that point and I’d followed all the instructions to link my bank account and all the rest. I don’t know how many other people are in my position.

There’s a famous Canadian television study called ‘The Impact of Television: A Study of Three Canadian Communities’, looking at the state of mainly children in three places in Canada, six months before and two years after the introduction of television. The studies looked at literacy, cognitive development, aggression, creativity, sexual stereotypes and a number of other features, and have been praised for their high quality. It was based on a town which wasn’t isolated but didn’t get television until 1973 because of the topography of the area. Due to paywalls and the serials crisis, I don’t have access to this work directly, but it did appear to demonstrate that the advent of television slowed literacy and cognitive development, and made children more aggressive. I would expect this still to be true but nowadays it isn’t feasible to do such a study, because those societies where there is little access to TV would differ in many other ways from those where there is, and because it’s so ubiquitous now. Also, television is no longer the only influence of this kind.

I also think television can encourage mental health problems in those who are more vulnerable. Whereas hearing voices is not in any way unhealthy, there are people whose voices either cause them distress because of the negative content of what they hear and also those who act upon those voices in a negative way, such as attempting to end their lives. When I used to work in a supermarket, the beeps of the tills used to haunt my dreams and I used to imagine I could hear them when I left work, although obviously I had insight into that. If a person has either talk radio or television on constantly in the background for company, their loneliness already being a risk factor for their mental well-being, I would expect them to be more likely to hear voices at other times and in other settings. Although it’s important not to stigmatise the hearing of voices per se, as it can be a very helpful and positive thing, when a particular person is negatively affected by it, it doesn’t seem like a good idea for them to be in an environment which encourages that impression. That said, this seems to apply as much to radio as it does to television.

All that said, I am a massive hypocrite, because I avidly follow and watch visual entertainment and documentaries on all sorts of platforms and devices. Nonetheless I welcome the onset of Friday evenings as a respite from that and plan to continue in this vein.