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Television Saving TV news
By RAYMOND A. SCHROTH
This just in: The Network Evening
News, who for half a century bound the American TV public into an informed
community and linked it to the larger world, according to unconfirmed reports,
has been moved from the hospital, where he had undergone an emergency heart
transplant, into hospice care. A number of his disciples, men and women whom he
had trained as reporters, before they left journalism for the entertainment
industry, have expressed sadness, even shock, at his decline.
But now this: Do you sometimes feel that you are not living up to
your full potential? Do fleeting moments of discomfort, disappointment or even
secondary sadness distract you from projects that could make you instantly
wealthy and from meeting new people who could love you more than anything in
the world? If so, research suggests that one tiny capsule may have the answer.
Ask your doctor about Zum. Can cause side effects if taken with or near other
solids or liquids, in public or in private, if the patient is young, old or
middle-aged.
Now to our Investigative Report, some Eye on America
news you can use. Have you noticed that when you buy a new house you will need
a lot of money?
* * *
There are three theories on the future of network news.
First, the optimists argue that theres still life in the old
anchormen. For a brief few months, following the attack on the World Trade
Center, public interest in international news perked up. There was a war to
report, even though the Pentagon kept the press as far as possible from what
was really happening, and the networks added a million dollars a week to their
budgets to cover it. But the war was a quickie, and ratings flagged, so the
anchormen returned our gaze to the economy, child kidnappings and the disease
of the week.
Nevertheless, Frank Rich makes the case in the May 19 New York
Times Magazine that even though the combined network evening newscasts
attract only 43 percent of the viewing audience, compared to 84 percent in
1981; even though both the anchormen and their viewers are old;
even though younger viewers get their news on the Comedy Channel or on the
Internet; even though the morning shows have bigger stars (Katie
Couric gets close to $15 million); even though the news hole has shrunk to 20
minutes (actually 17) to make room for commercial remedies for the aging,
the infirm, the impotent and the incontinent, theres still pep in
the old geezers -- Dan Rather, 70, Peter Jennings, 64, and Tom
Brokaw, 62.
First, their combined audience of 30 million viewers is still
greater than the most popular primetime shows, such as Friends with
24 million. Second, unlike anyone who would replace them, these anchormen have
gravitas. As Dan Rather said: The viewer must have the sense
that the anchor has seen enough of life, enough of news, to be trusted with
this storm, this hurricane of fact, rumor, misinformation, interviews, news
reports coming in to sort through. It may be part show biz, but Rather,
who covered combat in Vietnam, has made it part of his image, in trench coat or
flak jacket, to broadcast from storm-tossed seawalls and battlefields.
Third, at their best, the evening news shows have been the
national hearth. When youngsters outgrow MTV and Comedy Central,
they may turn to the news for a sense of shared national experience.
For the second group, the pessimists, the quality of the
broadcasts has deteriorated so far, that, like racehorses with broken legs,
they should be put to sleep.
In a chapter in their new book, The News about the News:
American Journalism in Trouble, reprinted in Columbia Journalism
Review, Washington Post editors Leonard Downie Jr. and Robert G.
Kaiser present some content analysis comparing the evening news in 1981-83 with
their reports in spring 2000.
Because the networks are now owned by huge corporations who
dont care a fig about journalism standards, ratings and profits are
everything. Because the federal government, through the Federal Communications
Commission, no longer requires that the airwaves be used to serve the public,
commercials can go on forever.
In 1981, a CBS newscast had 23 minutes of news, 17 of those on
stories from overseas or Washington. In 2000 there were 18:20 minutes of news
with the longest story two-and-a-half minutes, 10 minutes of commercial and 80
seconds of teases -- dont flip off during the ad break and
dont forget to watch something else on CBS!
On a typical night the authors found one hard news story (finding
the lost hard drives with nuclear secrets at the Los Alamos
Laboratory) and a speculative, newsless report on whether Osama Bin Laden might
attack the Olympic Games in Sydney. The rest concerned gas prices, a drought in
Minnesota, folic acid for heart disease, and so on. The only overseas report
was on Prince Williams 18th birthday.
At NBC, the strategy is to grab and hold the audience with strong
visuals, such as pictures of raging fires, a home video of a roaring Nebraska
tornado and science stories, like one with sensational footage of
an open-heart operation and another on the care of chimpanzees used in
experiments. The only foreign story was an announcement of Pope John Paul
IIs 80th birthday.
In The New Republic, inspired by the flap over Disney-owned
ABC almost bumping Ted Koppels Nightline to make room for
David Letterman, Rob Walker studied the three network news programs for three
weeks and concluded that they are so bad that even the cable channel shout-fest
talk shows are more informative. The best feature he saw on ABC was
a tie-in with the film Time Machine, where the correspondent
interviewed a physics professor who explained that if you drive fast enough,
near the speed of light, you would drive into the future. Except
that we dont know how to do that yet. Oh.
On NBC, Walker observed that stories seem calculated to get the
viewer mad, just for the satisfaction of being mad at something: For example,
Pentagon employees have been fleecing America by using their
official credit cards for personal items -- like the man who spent $4,000 for
breast implants for his girlfriend (though he paid it back), and the
telemarketer who scammed a woman into spending $64 a month on magazine
subscriptions.
The third alternative? Although, because my Jesuit community eats
dinner at 6:30, I have not watched network news in years, in mid July I taped
the networks, the BBC and the PBS Lehrer News Hour for several
nights and compared.
BBC was way ahead. The average half hour, with no ads, has about a
dozen items presented coolly and directly by an anchorwoman who doesnt
hesitate to mix it up with an interview subject who evades her questions.
When California Taliban John Walker Lindh was allowed to cop a
plea, the BBC made it clear that the U.S. government was not anxious for
reasons of its own for the case to come to trial. But one of the networks and
CNN gave considerable time to interviewing the parents of Michael Spann, the
CIA agent killed in the prison revolt in which Lindh was captured. CNNs
Connie Chung prodded them with maudlin questions that played on their
bitterness, although there is no evidence Lindh was responsible for their
sons death.
Ironically, one of ABCs countless ads showed happy arthritic
couples dancing with abandon because Celebrex had loosened them up. The same
night the Lehrer News Hour featured a senator in a drug costs
debate waving two bottles of Celebrex: the American bottle cost $2.20 a
capsule, the Canadian costs 79 cents. Somehow ABC didnt cover that
debate.
For the time being, anyone who wants good, straight, international
news, enough focused on the United States, should find BBC on the local PBS
station. Meanwhile we can hope that The New York Times will resurrect
plans it had earlier this year to inaugurate its own late-evening, hour-long TV
news program on PBS. If the commitment is too much for them, with proper
leadership a consortium of the best papers -- like The Washington Post
and Los Angeles Times -- ought to join forces on a PBS hour that would
allow the nations best journalists several minutes each to analyze
stories in depth and showcase their newspapers as well.
In the Golden Age of TV news, following World War II, the best
journalists moved from print to radio to TV. Maybe they can do it again.
Jesuit Fr. Raymond A. Schroth, professor of humanities at St.
Peters College in Jersey City, is author of Fordham: A History and
Memoir (Loyola Press).
National Catholic Reporter, August 16,
2002
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