THE danger of getting older is that, rather than maturing, one looks back less in anger and more in sentiment. Your front-page report on Creative Scotland’s paying for advisers to cover officers’ assessment work ("Cash-row quango spent £150k to deliver arts cuts", The Herald, February 22) brings to mind my own experience for eight years, from 1986 to 1994, as drama director at the Arts Council in London. Then, at the cost only of expenses, I benefited from the advice and wisdom of a panel of peer experts including distinguished practitioners – actors like Sylvia Syms, playwrights like Timberlake Wertenbaker, directors like Michael Attenborough, theatre managers like Genista McIntosh, then RSC Creative Producer, senior local authority arts officers and theatre scholars, not to mention officers who were themselves experienced theatre-workers – all under the chairmanship of the actor-manager Brian Rix, not simply a farceur, but a deeply knowledgeable man of theatre.

Panel members were remarkable for two particular things among many: they gave their services free and their judgment was respected – if not always agreed with – by their peers in the profession, whose livelihoods might be, and sometimes were, affected by that judgement. My colleagues in Edinburgh and Cardiff had the benefit of the advice and guidance of panels and advisers of equal distinction. What is more, these acted as a conduit for a rich communication between the funding agencies and the artforms they sought to assess. They didn’t always get it right, but when they got it wrong it was in a context of general mutual trust and positive regular interaction between funder and funded.

For some reason, it was decided throughout the Arts Council system some time in the late 1990s to abandon this system of advisory panels complemented by advisers. From then on, any advice would, if sought, and often it would not be, be paid for. Reports on artistic achievement would be restricted, in effect, to ticking boxes on a standardised form in pursuit of transparency and an elusive objectivity, the latter difficult – to say the least – in an artistic process. These left little room for experienced artistic judgement. As this process of bureaucratisation developed, staff cuts were introduced so that overheads could be shown to be reduced and, in theory, a larger part of the budget given to artists.

The recent bourach at Creative Scotland is not simply the fault of the individuals currently working there as officers. Those I know I respect, but officers on their own and council members – who, however qualified in specific artforms, cannot be expert in all – are exposed by the altered relationship they have with those they not only fund, but are there to serve, both the general public and those that provide art for that public.

The peer system that on the whole worked well for the arts funding and assessment system for decades has gone. Artform officers have been reduced in number and status. All was not always rosy in the past. Mistakes could always be made. But the engagement of practitioners at the heart of the assessment and funding process was precious. Its loss means that there are systemic problems with the functioning of Creative Scotland that made a crisis like the current one inevitable.

Professor Ian Brown,

34 Dalmeny Avenue, Giffnock.

IS it just me, or has television got a whole lot better in 2018? I am genuinely amazed at the amount of high quality dramas, funny shows and true-crime programmes on television now – on all the channels.

Last month we enjoyed Kiri on Channel 4 , and were agog with questions like “was is him? was it her? ITV's Next Of Kin was also riveting viewing, again prompting similar.

ITV's three-part drama Trauma last week was nail-biting.

Currently, we’re really enjoying Collateral on BBC2 and Shetland on BBC1, topped up with a little light-relief with Two Doors Down with the jaw-achingly funny and painfully ironic couple of Doon MacKichan and Jonathan Watson, as the neighbours from hell.

I can’t wait for the eighth series of the classic comedy STILL GAME in March with Jack, Victor, Isa and all.

Another pair of funny-moment shows for me are Would I Lie To You and Mock The Week ... seriously funny.

On am more serious note, true-crime programmes like Life On Death Row and 24 Hours In Police Custody give a sober insight into a world unknown to some.

All in all, watching great TV is a pleasure these days. Thanks to all TV stations for being there and for bringing such colour into our lives.

Michael Conway,

36 Friendship Way, Renfrew.