Is there hope for our stagnant airwaves?

RUGBY fever is back. And with it, those irritating little phrases that give an insight into our post-devolution broadcasting environment. On Radio Five Live, a commentator blokishly observed that everyone was waiting to see if England's Jonny Wilkinson had returned to form. Well, even if "everyone" likes rugby, I'd wager Welsh and English listeners had rather different hopes for the state of Wilkinson's kicking foot ahead of their teams' Twickenham encounter.

Thanks to the demographics of the UK, though, the majority of listeners and viewers to all BBC programmes on radio, TV or online, will always be English. Does that mean the default outlook of national TV and radio must necessarily be English too? The unacceptable Anglo-centricity of "British equals English" was precisely what propelled Scots to vote for their own parliament a decade ago. Could Anglo-centric programming do the same for "network" broadcasting?

To be fair, it's a tough job to "broadcast" at all these days. Convenient assumptions about the homogenous nature of the viewing public have had to be cast aside – programmes and even whole channels are now "narrow-casting" to segments of the population. Age, income, occupation, gender and geography have dissected the UK into a large number of discrete audiences – who want different material, tailored in slightly different ways, available on different platforms. So the business of "broadcasting" is tough. But nonetheless, everyone wants their outlook or life experience validated by seeing or hearing it on prime time, mainstream TV and radio. And that's almost impossible. Research by the BBC has found over-50s want opinions from authority figures, while under-50s deeply resent the great and the good trying to deliver "tablets of stone". Younger viewers and listeners prefer to have a range of views presented, and will select the one that makes most sense to them, whether it's delivered by a 16-year-old, a judge or a janny. How do you devise one news bulletin whose style appeals to both sets of viewers? You don't.

Thanks to their inclusion in a large digital family, BBC1 and Radio 4 probably feel they don't have to. Fun-loving 20-somethings are probably news-averse, channel hoppers. Anoraks are probably happily composing their own personal channels. And thanks to the BBC's iPlayer – offering TV audiences the chance to "view again" – even techno-phobes will soon be creating their own schedules. But iPlayer can only repeat what has already been aired. And there's the rub. Only a tiny fraction of the programmes Scots want to make about their world is currently made with the most generous budgets and the largest possible audience.

BBC Scotland's share of network productions fell from 6 per cent to just 3 per cent between 2004 and 2006. And last week the interim report of the Broadcasting Commission revealed that ten of Jonathan Ross's Film 2008 programmes were labelled "BBC Scotland productions" even though they were effectively London productions.

Why the surprise? For years, the easiest way for Scots producers to get their hands on network cash has been to abandon or sentimentalise Scottish reality. Top Radio Scotland producers, attempting to "stick to their guns", have tried to devise programme ideas that might appeal to London-based commissioners. Invariably after days, even weeks, contacting possible "talent", costing programmes and researching ideas, something is submitted, but next-to-nothing is commissioned. Why?

Is there – as ITV chairman Michael Grade put it – "a talent exit problem"? Or, to put it bluntly, are broadcasters who've chosen to stay in Scotland, mumsy, old-fashioned, earnest and unusable? Perhaps we are. Perhaps Scottish producers have gone off the boil. Or perhaps the business of producing a UK programme from a Scottish perspective has become almost impossible.

It's perfectly acceptable, for example, for David Starkey to make a network Channel Four series about the English monarchy. But propose a series about important facets of Scottish history – like the impact of the Union or the Vikings – and you'd have to make a UK-wide epic to stand the chance of a network commission. The challenge for Scottish programme-makers to think outside their comfort zones is not a bad one. But it means extensive Scottish knowledge needs a matching British knowledge, credibility and profile. And, eventually, that's one of the reasons Scottish broadcasters head south. So is it time to "roll our own"? Is a completely new Scottish broadcasting service needed – and could it be funded? Doubtless the Broadcasting Commission will tell us.

Or could the internet come to the rescue? The hard truth is that neither the internet nor independent network quotas are putting lots more Scottish content on air. The YouTube revolution has empowered daring amateurs. The independent revolution has empowered a few large London-based companies. All of which means the Scottish public sees and hears only a tiny fraction of the film and radio content Scottish producers can make – even though the bulk of information reaching young adults these days is audio-visual. While the Scottish Parliament is pressing for more powers, the world of the airwaves in Scotland is looking dangerously stagnant.