The real reason why there aren’t enough female presenters on TV

Sandi Toksvig is right – we are still in the dark ages when it comes to opportunities for women on TV

Who would be a female television presenter in this day and age? That may sound like a ridiculous question in our supposedly equal society, but the double standards that exist for the sexes have never been more obvious. I realise that, as a middle-aged man, I seem an unlikely person to pick up the feminist cause, but recent events have led me to believe that British TV is still in the dark ages – and it’s time that things changed.
My thoughts have been brought into focus following comments made by Sandi Toksvig, who complained to Radio Times this week about the lack of female presenters on our screens. Toksvig herself does have a gig: she took over QI from Stephen Fry in 2016 and, until 2020, hosted The Great British Bake Off, though she quit the latter when she realised it was doing her no good. (“I was literally standing there,” she told Radio Times, “watching meringues dry, and thinking, ‘Oh my God, my brain is atrophying.’”) Toksvig has enjoyed a steady career for four decades, a prominent and versatile figure on TV and radio, but she has acknowledged that, as a woman, her status is anomalous.
Toksvig said she would like to see more women presenting quiz shows, which feels pertinent given that two of British TV’s most high-profile gigs, Mastermind and University Challenge, have gone to men in the past few years. I think both Amol Rajan and Clive Myrie are great signings, but in general, I agree with her. For me, the problem is even better illustrated by the return of Gladiators on BBC One. Who better than to host this display of both male and female athleticism than, um, Bradley Walsh and his son Barney? Given the first episode’s high ratings last weekend, it almost certainly will return for a second series; but the Walshes, who originally signed up for a “one-off” run, may or may not. Either way, the BBC would be well-advised to think about a female presenter to replace them. (In fact, displaying a giant mop on screen would have been more effective than poor Barney, but you take my point.)
Despite executives making all the right noises about “improving visibility” and “closing the pay gap”, the women who do win presenting roles still have a much tougher time than men. For a start, Britain remains stereotypical when it comes to TV, with programmes such as Loose Women merely enforcing misogynistic notions that all women talk about is diets and sex – in the name of female emancipation, of course. It baffles me why any woman in her right mind would want to enter this particular circle of Hell.
Then there is the scrutiny. The way a woman looks is still a preoccupation – in 2024! – and while tabloid websites frequently gush about someone “looking every inch the star”, “flaunting their curves” or (my personal favourite) “putting on a leggy display”, there is always an overwhelming sense of disingenuous misogyny. And of course, X, formerly Twitter, never pulls any punches. Earlier this week, BBC presenter Nina Warhurst, having just returned from maternity leave, was abused on the platform for how she looked. I can’t remember the last time a male presenter was criticised like this; people taking the proverbial out of Jon Snow’s ties on Channel 4 News was as hostile as it got.
If there is a male and female pairing on TV, it’s always the woman who’s subjected to far more unwelcome attention. Last year’s grand opera at This Morning was a case in point. Phillip Schofield’s admission that he’d had an affair with a much younger colleague was big news – yet his co-host Holly Willoughby’s reaction, and the questions over her subsequent career, have preoccupied social media ever since. (Being Holly Willoughby must be exhausting.) Her return to Dancing on Ice last weekend was treated with roughly the same level of speculation as Golda Meir becoming prime minister of Israel in 1969.
While news presenting feels, on the surface, like a more equal playing field than it was 20 years ago, the same can’t be said for sports programmes. Long gone are the days of men in chequered blazers pontificating, but that may be preferable to the humiliation that women allowed into the old boys’ club have then have to endure. I know Joey Barton is as dumb as a post, but when the ex-footballer tweeted that women shouldn’t become pundits, and compared two such pundits to Fred and Rose West, it only amplified the toxic environment that dyed-in-the-wool professionals had already created for their female colleagues. There has been a similar problem with comedy panel shows in recent years, with comedians such as Jo Brand likening them to a bear pit.
The sad thing is that it all seems worse than it did 40 years ago. As a small child, I remember my favourite presenters: Floella Benjamin, Anneka Rice and, in fact, a certain Sandi Toksvig (for the long-forgotten Saturday-morning show, No 73). Yet I never remember their gender being a factor. Perhaps I missed the tabloids criticising Benjamin’s outfits back in the day, but I don’t think so.
So what is to be done? The celebration of women often goes hand in hand with a weird ghettoisation; think of all those prizes designed specifically to award female achievement in various industries, summarised by Kristin Scott Thomas as Belinda in Fleabag as “patronising bulls—”. The media is no exception. For true parity, I wonder whether such positivity should stop: it isn’t exactly treating women on equal terms. Only by creating a genuine meritocracy, I think, can British TV overcome its problem with women.