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THE MEDIA: Decline and Fall
By Robert Zelnick
Broadcast journalism isn’t what it used to be—and won’t be again. By Robert Zelnick.
In his recent book Bad
News, longtime CBS correspondent Tom Fenton indicts the three old networks for shortchanging hard news,
particularly from abroad. It is not a new
charge, but Fenton provides lots of details about serious story proposals
being shot down and important pieces simplified to the point where much
value is lost or, in some instances, never run. Throughout, he writes with
the sort of conviction that demands respect.
As he was putting the finishing touches on his book
this past January, Fenton’s former boss, CBS board chairman Les
Moonves, was meeting with reporters in Los Angeles. At the time, the
Rathergate scandal was reaching its crescendo.
With his anchor of 24 years forced to step down, no credible long-term replacement evident, and his Evening News program losing more viewers than
France loses wars, Moonves shared his vision of what it would take to get the flagship news program back on its feet. A
rededication to hard news? A reopening of
foreign bureaus closed by the brutal hand of cost controllers? A commitment
to the values of fairness, integrity, and objectivity so palpably violated
by Dan Rather, producer Mary Mapes, and a crowd of acolytes?
None of the above. With no rival anchor like Tim
Russert, Diane Sawyer, Ted Koppel, or Katie
Couric to snatch, Moonves would turn to ruse, not news, as the salvation. No more “voice of God” in the
anchor chair, he declared. Now CBS would go
with two, maybe even three, anchors, perhaps creating the sort of “ensemble” effect that seems to be
working for The Early Show. And for good measure, why not give Jon Stewart of The Daily Show a real news gig? After all,
Comedy Central belongs to CBS. Let’s use it.
The course Moonves laid out is, of course, wacky. The
ensemble that works in a two-hour format with
short top-of-the-hour newscasts followed by interviews with avalanche
survivors, Michael Jackson trial analysts, parents of missing children,
Hollywood stars, and diet faddists simply doesn’t fit into the
18-minute news hole on the evening broadcast. And Jon Stewart? Where would
you put him? After the terrorist bomb that killed 105 or the new AIDS virus story? Or perhaps let Jon ridicule the one or
two legitimate enterprise pieces that fought
their way into the show. William S. Paley, the legendary
CBS founder, had his comics, too. Only, as Fenton reports, he used them to support, not undermine, the news division.
“You worry about the news,” Paley told his
correspondents. “I’ve got Jack Benny to bring in the
profits.”
Paley and the founders at the other networks had big
hearts, deep pockets, and a commitment to public service, if not always a detailed
knowledge of the news
operation. I was present at the 1980 Republican convention in Detroit when former ABC chairman Leonard Goldenson pumped Ted
Koppel’s hand warmly and said, “Ted, I just love your new
program, Lifeline.”
Fenton joined CBS News in 1966. By then, the CBS Evening News with Walter
Cronkite had passed NBC’s Huntley-Brinkley for first place in the
daily news race. Names like Eric Severeid, Roger Mudd, Marvin Kalb, and Dan
Rather were making the network a dominant news force. Morley Safer had
captured the essence of the Vietnam tragedy in a series of stunning reports from the villages. The young Turks—Richard
Threlkeld, Bob Simon, and John
Laurence—would soon be presenting accounts from the battlefield
suggesting shattered morale, insubordination, purposeless sacrifice: all images that would infuriate the military and lead to a
generation of conflict over media access
to combat.
Fenton—tall, British tailored, and well
informed, with an efficient writing style that
radiated self-assurance—fit nicely into the CBS family. For most of
his tenure abroad, London was his base, but he was no less at home in the
rest of Europe or the Middle East.
“When I first went to work for CBS News,”
he recalls, “we had a Rome bureau staffed by three correspondents.
Now we have only three foreign bureaus staffed by correspondents in the
entire world.” Four of those correspondents are based in London, not
because much news happens there but because that’s where the product
is “packaged.” Footage shot elsewhere in the world by services
available to paying news clients is fed to London, where a generic story
line is written and the package distributed. A CBS staffer might then edit the copy with a correspondent standing by
to track the piece and sign off from
London, having contributed zero to the reporting involved. The practice,
Fenton correctly argues, “can also lead to omissions and
errors.”
The cutbacks reflect the steady decline in viewers
since the early 1980s, when 75 percent of all
television sets in operation were tuned to the flagship evening news programs. By 2003, the number was 40 percent and
still in free fall. That’s still about 29 million people; but the
demographics are even worse, with the median evening news watcher pushing
60, a long way from the 18-to-40 concentration
sought by the more stylish advertisers. Nothing
that bad could be attributable to a single
cause. Certainly, the reasons for the network news decline include competition from cable and
Internet operations, conservatives vexed
by the networks’ habitual liberalism, and a workforce of eclectic
lifestyles. Other reasons include the liberation of women from chores
binding them to hearth and home and programs that arrest the tastes (if not
the brains) of young people before any serious interest in public, let
alone foreign, affairs can take hold.
Fenton argues that the cutbacks were a cowardly and,
ultimately, self-defeating response to
adversity. New corporate owners saw expensive foreign bureaus as easy targets. News
operations became profit centers, abandoning
their commitment to public service just as federal deregulation was erasing
the requirement for any such commitment.
Ratings became the obsession; the media
consultant, the doctor; focus groups, the diagnostic procedure; and a light
diet of crime, celebrity, and health stories, the cure.
Fenton maintains that the networks must shoulder their
share of blame for the lack of public vigilance
that left the country unprepared for the monumental
tragedy of 9/11. “In the three months leading up to September
11,” he writes, “the phrase ‘al Qaeda’ was never
mentioned on any of the three evening news
broadcasts—not once.” Fenton had tried unsuccessfully during the late 1990s to sell an Osama bin Laden interview to his
bosses. Specific reference to bin Laden in a colleague’s piece on
Saudi-financed terrorism was scratched because a producer did not want to
distract the audience with a batch of Arab names. (Of course, the New York Times wrote a
Pulitzer Prize–winning series on al Qaeda in early 2001, with no
demonstrable impact on either public or government consciousness.)
Fenton also says that the networks were no less guilty
in letting the Bush White House spin the nation into an ill-considered war
with Iraq, serving up a “shifty
rationale,” from Iraq’s nonexistent weapons of mass destruction
to the general desirability of regime change to
“the noble goal of bringing democracy to the Mideast.”
Among other newsmen, Fenton interviews the three
network anchors—two of them now former anchors—who earn in the
vicinity of $10 million per year. They speak disdainfully of money per se,
a not-uncommon tendency of multimillionaires. They equate it with power and
status, but none of the three has expended much in the way of money, power,
or status to save the structural integrity of his news operation. Fenton
outlines for them his idea to put correspondents back on national and
international beats, where they can recapture the hard-nosed contextual
reporting of yesteryear: an hour-long newscast. This would not simply be a
longer evening news headline service but include a format that might
feature interviews, background essays, and
other material to draw viewers back to the networks. The anchors embrace the idea, but none is naive enough to suggest it
has any chance of acceptance by the corporate boys, the real network
powers. Of course, Fenton, too, has been around long enough to realize
that, in terms of network television, the hour
news show idea will also lack critical support at
the affiliate and wholly owned subsidiary levels.
“No amount of Pew studies or damning stars will
shake the owners’ addiction to the formula that cheap news equals
healthier profits,” Fenton concedes. And even in their heyday, the
networks could never get their affiliates to relinquish an additional
half hour from their lucrative local news hours. When, in the early 1980s,
both ABC and CBS formally announced plans to go
with an hour-long evening news program, the message shot back from the affiliates was “We won’t clear
it.” The idea died.
Regulation to force the issue is out of the question,
as the FCC has become, in Fenton’s words, “a toothless
tiger.” An hour-long show later in prime
time is out unless it has the audience-grabbing glitz of a magazine show with, perhaps, an element of reality television thrown in
for good measure—say, starting out with
Moonves’s anchor “ensemble” but with one anchor voted out
of the program every half hour.
Frustrated at every turn, Fenton goes quirky.
“Why not a lobby that monitors and insists on news quality and
quantity?” Because unless those behind the lobby can bring back the
lost audience for the evening news shows, nothing the lobby says will have
any resonance. Besides, those who might compose the lobby are now something
of a lost tribe, having last been seen in Vermont’s Green Mountains
battling for the right of Buster the Bunny to drop in on a lesbian family.
Fenton’s real problem is captured engagingly by
Evan Cornog in the January Columbia Journalism
Review. Journalism, both print and electronic,
is today threatened by a problem far graver
than corporate greed or government regulation.
It is, writes Cornog, “the decline of public interest in public life,
a serious disengagement of citizens from one of the primary duties of
citizenship—to know what is happening in their government and
society.” The networks may be guilty of
pandering to the public taste but not of misinterpreting it. As Fenton suggests, run a piece on the proposed oil route
through Azerbaijan, followed by an exposition of confessional politics in
Lebanon—both timely stories—and you will not only fail to bring
back the youthful MTV crowd but possibly lose
more from the adult-diaper set as well. Cornog
may be unduly pessimistic in suggesting that there would be no home in today’s daily or weekly press for a discourse as
magnificent as the Federalist Papers—the Times, the Wall Street Journal, and a
handful of others might come through—but there can be little doubt
that the decline of serious journalism reflects the decline of serious news
consumers.
Fenton may one day get the kind of evening news
program that routinely covers infighting among
the Kurds, Syrian mischief in the Bekaa Valley, and the series of Russian
provocations designed to destabilize their former republics—but probably not on the old networks he loves.
Cable news, which he mainly ignores, could
eventually come closer to delivering what Fenton wants because its user fees and all-news format make it somewhat
less ratings dependent. CNN, which has never
managed to deliver a coherent, well-produced news hour, will soon be trying
again. Fox has a class operation in Brit Hume’s Special Report, but its focus on
Washington political news obscures some solid reporting from a number of
well-staffed domestic beats. MSNBC tried to use its early Iraq war coverage
to launch an hour-long show with Brian Williams
at the anchor desk. But the product simply looked like what it was: a traditional half-hour newscast stretched
to fill an hour. With an audience barely big enough to populate a small
shoebox, MSNBC pulled the plug rather than giving it a chance to develop a
personality. But with NBC news personnel to draw on, and the aggressive
Rick Kaplan now calling the shots, MSNBC could at some point try again.
Still, a return to Fenton’s vividly remembered
glory days is unlikely. Even in the best
plausible scenarios, the seasoned network or cable correspondent will need support from a web of
far-flung stringers and freelance correspondents and crews necessary to make the economics work. These, in turn,
are likely to be complemented by print
reporters whose journalistic skills include the
use of phone cameras and laptops that access the satellites used to feed
breaking news reports.
One day, if the public once again demands a
top-of-the-line product, old-timers like Tom Fenton can provide the
institutional memory of how it was done.
This essay appeared in the Weekly Standard on March 21, 2005.
Available from the Hoover Press is Swing Dance: Justice O’Connor and the Michigan Muddle, by Robert Zelnick. To order, call 800.935.2882 or visit www.hooverpress.org.
Robert Zelnick is the Professor of National and International Affairs at Boston University and a Research Fellow at the Hoover Institution at Stanford University. He has been with Boston University since September, 1998. Mr. Zelnick's courses at Boston University have included Covering International Terrorism, Covering National Security, Foreign Reporting, Media Law and Ethics, and The Presidency and the Media.
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