Dave Bethell: “Radio’s future will not be won by stripping the soul out of it”
In an industry reeling from cutbacks worldwide, Dave Bethell still believes in the power of radio.
Bethell was one of the best-known imaging voices in British commercial radio before moving to LA, where he now co-owns the legendary TM Studios.
Asked his thoughts on the current state of the US radio industry, Bethell’s response will no doubt strike a chord with many here in Australian radio who’ve recently lost their jobs, watched their colleagues lose their jobs – or are perhaps navigating redundancy for the very first time.

Sharing his musings with RadioInsight, Bethell wrote a love letter to radio:
“I’ve been thinking a lot about radio this week. Not the business of radio. Not the quarterly earnings calls. Not the strategy decks, the restructures, the synergistic alignment or whatever phrase is being used this month to explain why fewer people are being asked to do more work.”
“I’ve been thinking about actual radio. The radio that gave so many of us the bug in the first place.”
“The radio that woke you up for school. The radio that made you late for work because you wanted to hear the end of a bit, a song, a contest, a call, a story. The thing that somehow knew how to be ridiculous at 7:20 in the morning and deeply human by 7:23.”
Bethell says radio has always been more than transmitters, towers, spots and songs. It has provided companionship. It has built trust over generations. And behind all of that, always, are people.
“That’s what makes the latest wave of cuts so hard to watch. The pattern has been slowly playing out across the industry for years now. Restructures, consolidations, reductions, reorgs. Each round takes something with it that doesn’t show up in the press releases.”
“And that’s the thing about radio people. Most of us didn’t get into this because it looked safe. We didn’t choose it because it promised normal work hours, predictable career paths or even serious money. We chose it because we were obsessed.”
Bethell says there is no normal industry where people get this excited about a jingle, a format flip, a perfect segue.
“Radio is silly. Radio is serious. Radio is chaos with a clock. Radio is local fame and national impact. Radio is a producer eating a cold sandwich at 9:46am while trying to find audio from a sports team manager saying that controversial comment and get it on air first. A morning host setting that 3:45am alarm clock with a smile on their face. A PD making impossible decisions with incomplete information and nothing but a gut feeling. A promotions person standing in a parking lot in a mascot costume wondering how their life ended up here.”
“Because radio people care, they stay late, they take the call, they cover the shift, fix the promo, rewrite the liner, update the website, post the video, answer the listener, help the client, show up for the charity event, and smile through the fact that their department has quietly gone from six people to two.”
For years, Bethell says some corners of the industry have asked extraordinary passion from its people – whilst giving too many of them very ordinary treatment in return.
He says forgetting the listener is when radio gets itself into trouble.
“Listeners know when a station still cares about them. They may not know the technical jargon. They may not know who got cut, which show is voice tracked, which promo was made centrally, or which local decision is no longer local. But they sense it. They hear it. They know when a station is part of their life. And they know when the listener is no longer the priority.”
Bethell says radio is still here because of radio people.
“Because talent still matters. Local still matters. Passion and skill still matters. A trusted voice still matters when the weather threatens life, when the freeway shuts down, when the city wins, when the city grieves, when a kid hears their name on the radio, or someone hears a song for the first time and feels their whole life shift in three minutes and thirty seconds.”
“So this is my love letter to radio. But really, it’s a love letter to the people in radio.”
“To the people still inside the buildings, trying to hold everything together while saying goodbye to friends and colleagues, I see you. Survivor’s guilt is real. Exhaustion is real. Trying to sound upbeat while the hallway gets quieter is real.”
“Because radio’s future will not be won by stripping the soul out of it.”
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