Weekly Lesson: The TV Licence

For study until 27th of October 2024

Subject: The Television Licence

Audio: On usual social media platforms.

The Television Licence

It was one of those days where I was grateful for technology. After hearing someone knocking at my door, I opened the doorbell video app on my phone and saw two men standing there.

“Oh” I thought…..either they are trying to sell me a broadband deal for better Wifi or, they are religious. I had to make a snap decision whether to actually open the door, so I thought it best just to ask them who they are, using my phone. After all, last time I was lumbered with a heater, toaster and washing machine (see my lesson from two weeks ago) from the Charity givers.

“Can I help?” I asked, while staring at the app and the mic on my phone.

“Yes, it is TV Licence Enforcement, we need to see your licence”.

“Oh, OK”

I walked to the door, trying to gather my thoughts on the way, I opened it to see an ID pushed into my face.

“Its about your TV Licence sir”, one of them blurted out. “We just checked with the Post Office, it has expired”.

I remembered how serious this can be. If you own a TV in the UK then you need to also have a licence. It costs around £200 each year.  When you buy a TV, you also need to give your name and address and the shop is legally obliged to tell the Enforcement Officers. You also need one if you have BBC Iplayer on your phone or computer. It’s terribly organised and definitely very British to enforce it in this way.

“I have a licence” – in fact I pay quarterly” I replied,  “ you took forty pounds just yesterday from my bank account”. I chuckled. They clearly didn’t see the funny side of my words. Of course they wanted to see the paper, so I invited them in.

“Sooooo, that’s the TV?” they said as they entered my living room. They were obviously still in suspicion mode. I did my best not to give a sarcastic remark.  By this point I was trying desperately to find my licence. I remembered it was electronic so I was scrolling through my phone trying to find it. It seemed like a lifetime had passed,

“If this was Ancient Egypt you would have found it by now” – one of them said sarcastically.

As I was standing at the window scrolling on my phone, I saw their truck  outside, it kind of looked like a camper van or little caravan with a huge metal bit on the roof but their trucks always look uglier and more grey than any holiday truck.

“Nice cat” one of the men said. My cat hissed and walked away. I really wish I could have done the same.

“Not friendly is he?” he chortled.

“Oh he hates everyone, its not personal, don’t worry” – I quipped.

“Here is the licence” – I showed it to them on my phone and they looked confused.

“Is this not apartment number one? They asked squinting their eyes.

“No, this is apartment two”  I responded, realising what had happened.

“Well, sorry we got the wrong apartment” they admitted, as they both headed to the door.

“Well there’s no one living next door” I chirped again, the guy left some weeks ago, I know because I have some stuff here for him.

“Oh there is someone there  – we can see what channel they are watching” he said as he looked down at his Ipad walking towards the apartment opposite.

It is indeed typical in a country like ours that they would develop technology to ensure you have a TV licence. Its hardly the be all and end all of everything but we love solid rules and enforcing them.

Just at that moment a Priest entered my apartment block and as I live on the ground level, he saw me first. “Did you call for the Last Rites to be administered?”

“Eh… no……” I uttered

“Um, I know it was someone in this block but I don’t know who….” He replied

“Well it wasn’t me…” I said uncomfortably, hoping that he wouldn’t ask me about Church attendance. Everyone knows the  Parish Priest and I was rather hoping that he had forgotten I existed.

He glanced at his notebook..”my my….sorry It’s apartment two on the next level…”

“I don’t suppose you need them anyway…? I could swing by later….?” – he chortled “Remember you don’t have to be dying to get the Last Rites”.

“No, no no….  I’m in great health….” I said, convincing myself that it was true, shook my head and backed away as he walked up the stairs. I got a bit flabbergasted. Do I look like I need the Last Rites? The barber always gives me OAP rates and I never correct him but I am still a long way away from aged 60. My day couldn’t really get any more surreal.

I watched as the TV Enforcement officers knocked on the door opposite, of course there was no reply. So they stood there and I  closed the door and opened the video app again. After a few moments they started calling through the letterbox (These people meant business and I had forgotten just how much power they have). They can choose to simply give you a penalty or if you agree to trot down the post office and buy a licence immediately, they will overlook the fact that you had a TV without one. You can buy it online as well.

There was indeed someone inside, I could hear a difficult conversation. It sounded like there was a guy insisting he didn’t have a TV.  My app caught a clear picture of him, it looked like a scene from a 1967 hippie movie, my neighbour was wearing a kaftan, love beads and sandals. He kind of looked like Barry White but not as entertaining. The TV licence enforcement officers weren’t getting in and I could hear the conversation was getting uncomfortable. Finally they reached a compromise and the two men left, looking happy. A thought came to my mind that they were earning commission.

My video doorbell hadn’t picked up anything from that apartment in weeks, so it was really strange that the man living there hadn’t left in weeks. By the looks of him it looked like he hadn’t left since 1967!

The moral of the story is, get a TV licence if you own a TV and live in the UK. They will find you if you don’t.