BBC has a major problem with the working class – it doesn’t know who they are

ELECTIONS must be a pain in the arse for the BBC.

Sure, the ballot gives the broadcaster a good ­platform to burnish its public-service credentials with blanket coverage of ­something of ­national importance.

But when Britain goes to the polls the BBC has to, in turn, go out and meet the half of the  population it ­cannot comprehend. 

Namely, the working classes.

BBC executives simply have no idea who these people are.

How else to explain their disgraceful service to such a large section of those who pay for their superannuated salaries through the mandatory £169.50-a-year licence fee?

The disdain was at full strength this week as the flagship Today programme on Radio 4 ditched its daily racing tips after 47 years. 

Presenter Amol Rajan announced: “There are no racing tips today as we’ve decided to break the tradition of having racing  tips every day of the year. Instead, we’re going to reserve the  tips for the biggest days in the racing ­calendar.”

Reeks of snobbery

On one level this may come as a blessing, as departing sports presenter Garry Richardson et al’s thrice-daily tips were not much cop — perhaps only a one-in- three hit rate, according to some punters.

The final tips dished out on Saturday’s programme included Missed The Cut in the 3:05 at Ascot, which duly lived up to its name as it trotted in LAST, and End Zone in the 2:55 at Redcar, which limped home in tenth place.

But the BBC’s overarching message from this decision is clear: We don’t care about your grubby horse meets.

By focusing on only the big fixtures like Royal Ascot and the King George VI Chase, they are signalling that it is only the races the TV execs attend that matter.

Forget today’s 16:50 Mildren Construction Handicap at Salisbury or the 16:28 Stepway Charity Maiden Hurdle at Worcester. Yuck — how common!

 The vast majority of the 4.83million  fans who attend the nation’s 1,425 annual fixtures, and the millions more who place bets on them, can take a running jump.

If the toffs ain’t there, we don’t care.

Of course, it’s not just about the tips — good or bad. 

What this is really about is a pastime enjoyed by the working classes being downgraded by a BBC that is supposed to be all things to all people. 

Racehorse trainer Nicky Henderson, a regular on the Today programme, described the ­decision as “another kick in the back for the sport”.

For a broadcaster that gives ever- increasing airtime to middle-class ­jambo-rees such as Wimbledon and ­Glastonbury — where around 500 Beeb staffers will traipse to today for “work” — removing a daily radio feature that lasts mere seconds  feels like spite.

The BBC has a serious problem with  serving the working classes, and recent events have shown this in Technicolor.

Just last week, the BBC’s £215,000-a-year head of comedy, Jon Petrie, could barely disguise his contempt for one of his most popular shows, Mrs Brown’s Boys.

Asked if he found the sitcom funny, he refused to give an answer, then chuckled away when told his silence would be taken for a “no”.

But his silence said more than “no”. 

It said he did not like this 13-year-old show, beloved by millions, because it featured the kind of foul-mouthed brutal humour that you get from the working classes. His reaction reeked of snobbery. 

But snobbery is priced in with the well-fed staff who run the BBC — a staggering 114 of whom, according to a report out  at the end of May, earn more than £178,000  a year.

So many of the corporation’s leaders haven’t a clue about the working classes because they have never really associated with them. 

And it’s getting worse.

Auntie likes to claim that a fifth of  its workforce are working class  — but  that doesn’t help you get very far at  the BBC. 

Indeed, on Monday we revealed that a THIRD of its best-paid jobs are now taken by people who went to private schools.

Never mind that only ten per cent of BBC workers on under £30,000 a year  went to an independent school, they now represent 68 of those earning over £150,000 a year — up from 37 just two years ago.

They include the BBC’s brand new head of sport, Alex Kay-Jelski, who attended the £26,000-a-year University College School in the posh London neighbourhood of Hampstead.

Loud suits

The BBC was put on notice more than six months ago that it needed to get its house in order when it comes to the working classes.

A scathing report from Ofcom slammed the Beeb for patronising viewers with its ­“stereotypical or tokenistic” portrayal of the working classes — ie. how they actually see them.

In particular, its “safe” and “politically correct” comedy output took a beating from those surveyed by the regulator.

The BBC’s mission is, famously, to “inform, educate and entertain” — but it is failing to educate itself as to exactly who its audiences really are.

Only by giving important jobs to people who understand who is keeping it afloat will the BBC even begin to learn.

You would think a corporation that has bureaux in all corners of the country would be able to find the right people to make this change.

It is a vital task for the BBC’s “chief people officer” Uzair Qadeer — one  of  those pampered execs on a high six-figure salary.

 So will this American former big pharma exec who wears loud suits  and ridiculous glasses now get to grips with it?

I wouldn’t bet on it.