Terry Wogan and Ken Bruce are beloved because they soar above English ideas of class

Presenting Pick of the Week on Radio Four the other day, I was determined to feature (and did) BBC Radio One’s Annie Nightingale, and Radio Two’s Janice Long — both excellent presenters who take us through the watches of the night; but my producer and I didn’t find it easy to identify any short clips that triumphantly demonstrated their brilliance. The skill of a presenter/disc jockey (or what use to be called a compère) rarely resides in showpiece tours-de-force, but in the whole atmosphere in which by chit-chat, humour, wit and sympathy they contrive to cocoon their hours on air, so that we feel we know them, and are sharing our morning cup of tea with them.

Which brings me to Ken Bruce. I love that most mainstream, middle-brow, middle-of-the-road (and popular) of all our national radio stations, BBC Radio Two, and turn frequently to the station whenever Radio Four gets too clever for me and I simply crave a little of what the over-thirties would call popular music, plus light commentary, regular short news bulletins, funny snippets from the newspapers, and good-natured quizzes and phone-ins. From 9.30 to noon, Ken Bruce presents Radio Two’s mid-morning programme. He follows Wake Up to Wogan, which follows the inimitable Sarah Kennedy, who wakes me up with her adorable wittering about absolutely nothing.

Kennedy and Wogan have been around for yonks; Ken Bruce is rather more recent. His success (unquestioned, I think) in breaking in to the world of light broadcasting transgresses what might be thought a cardinal rule in the casting of broadcasters and of entertainers generally: that idiosyncratic genius is a one-off thing, and trying to replicate a successful act seldom works.

 The genius in question is Terry Wogan: simply the greatest light broadcaster who has ever lived. Millions of words have been written on the genius of Wogan, and I shall not add to them.