For many people, seeing that familiar emblem is almost like opening a photo album.

That is why the recent initiative surrounding a possible new BTV logo has generated more than only a discussion about graphic design. It has raised a much larger question: when an institution carries decades of national memory, how much of its identity should be changed in the name of modernisation?

Before changing the logo, let us ask a more fundamental question. If the same journalism continues underneath it, what exactly has changed? For me, the answer is simple. BTV does not necessarily need a new face. Then what does the news hub promise to the state?

BTV’s story itself is much older than the logo debate. Its broadcasting journey began on 25 December 1964 as a pilot television project in Dhaka. According to BTV’s own historical account, the operation initially ran for only three hours from two rooms of the then DIT building. In 1967, it became part of Pakistan Television Corporation, and after independence, it became Bangladesh Television in 1972 through a presidential order.

Some attribute the 1971 BTV logo design to prominent art director Mohiuddin Faroque, while others credit the artist Imdad Hossain. There are also accounts highlighting the involvement of major figures from Bangladesh’s artistic and cultural landscape, including Zainul Abedin, Kamrul Hasan and Mustafa Monowar, in shaping the historical identity of BTV.

The familiar design, with its television screen form and the red-and-green visual inside, has therefore survived not because it is necessarily the most technologically sophisticated logo, but because people have attached meaning to it. And this is where I find myself questioning the necessity of replacing it.

I understand the argument for change. BTV operates in a completely different media environment today. Television is no longer the only screen through which people consume news and entertainment. A broadcaster now competes with social streaming platforms, digital newspapers, podcasts and countless independent creators. A logo designed decades ago may not immediately communicate digital-first in the way contemporary branding often tries to do.

A modern visual identity could make BTV more adaptable across television, websites, mobile applications and social media. It could also help a public broadcaster communicate a sense of renewal after decades of institutional existence. So, wanting a new visual identity is not inherently wrong. But the more important question is: what exactly are they trying to renew? If the answer is the appearance, then changing the logo may accomplish that. If the answer is BTV itself, then a logo is nowhere. This is where, personally, I would disagree with replacing the traditional logo.

I would rather see BTV preserve the identity that generations have grown up with and invest that energy into changing the things that actually determine whether people trust a broadcaster. A logo cannot make journalism neutral. A logo cannot make a newsroom independent. A logo cannot prevent misinformation. A logo cannot create investigative journalism, can’t eradicate yellow journalism.

A logo cannot make a national broadcaster represent every citizen equally. And a logo certainly cannot rebuild public trust if the audience believes that the institution is speaking to them from one particular perspective rather than speaking for the nation as a whole, i.e. biasedness.

That is why I believe the more urgent transformation BTV needs is not visual but ethical transformation. The country does not necessarily need a new BTV logo. It needs a BTV that feels new. A BTV where journalism comes before narrative. A BTV where facts are more important than influence. A BTV where criticism of the government, opposition, institutions or powerful individuals is treated as part of journalism rather than as an inconvenience. A BTV where the ordinary citizen from a village receives as much dignity and importance as a privileged person sitting in Dhaka. A BTV that can tell Bangladesh’s story to the international audience without exaggeration, propaganda or any unnecessary sensationalism.

If BTV wants to return in a new look as reflected in its recent campaigns, perhaps the new look should begin inside the press room rather than on the screen. The current initiative has invited public ideas and designs for a new logo, with the discussion already generating criticism and debate among critics and former BTV officials.

We often talk about yellow journalism. In today’s media ecosystem, where clicks, views and virality can easily become the measure of success, resisting that culture is increasingly difficult. A national broadcaster should be one of the institutions resisting it. BTV should preserve the green not simply as a colour in a logo, but as an ethical principle in broadcasting.

If the logo must evolve, then I would prefer an evolution rather than an erasure. Keep the essential DNA of the existing emblem, retain the red and green, retain the visual character that people immediately associate with BTV. Make it cleaner, more adaptable to digital platforms and technically contemporary if necessary, but do not sever the historical thread.

Heritage should never become an excuse for stagnation. Preserving the logo should not mean preserving outdated practices. Respecting history should not mean refusing reform. And defending tradition should never mean defending weaknesses. Then perhaps the old logo will suddenly feel new again.

Because ultimately, people do not fall in love with shapes, circles, colours or typography. They fall in love with what those things come to represent.

Because modernisation does not always mean replacement. Sometimes modernisation means knowing what not to throw away.