The Cronkite Era is long past

In case you were born long after this era, Walter Cronkite was a fixture on the CBS Evening News during an era where (yes …) there were essentially three television networks, and channels–ABC, CBS, and NBC. The nightly news was seen by many more people, percentage-wise, than is the case today. And people took it, and especially Cronkite, seriously. CBS had a reputation, going back to the days of anchor Edward R. Murrow, who along with news producer Fred Friendly challenged Joseph McCarthy and his Congressional hearings on ‘unAmerican activity’ (McCarthy was claiming he had lists of members of the communist party, and he compelled testimony and kept the public in fear of a ‘red scare’ or communist infiltration of government–despite the fact that the existence of such a party would have broken no laws. But this was the early Cold War era). McCarthy responded by accusing Murrow of communist sympathizing, and even takes a shot (flak …) at CBS. (this from the movie, Good Night and Good Luck). McCarthy finally went too far when he began accusing the army of communist infiltration. Defense Dept. legal counsel Joseph Welch responded. The retort still famous, the fall was hard.

Back to Cronkite. When he said in 1968 that the Vietnam War was unwinnable, it probably had the effect of actually shifting public opinion (which was already turning against the war by then). Not to say that Walter Cronkite, or any other anchor person, had the freedom to say whatever he wanted (all hes at this point in history). Even Cronkite likely knew or suspected that the US Government was not engaged in an ‘honorable’ defense of democracy (here is a view from hindsight, and he discusses the filtering pressures the network faced). Secretary of State Robert McNamara since admitted that the Gulf of Tonkin incident–a ‘false flag operation’ that enabled the escalation of the war and increase in troops–never happened.

So Walter Cronkite, like Edward R. Murrow, had integrity. He took his responsibilities seriously. And he wasn’t coached on facial expressions by consultants poring over market research. And their word carried weight, enough weight to actually shift public opinion, in Murrow’s case against McCarthy, in Cronkite’s against the Vietnam War. But that era is over.

We shouldn’t over-romanticize it, though. Both critiques occurred within the acceptable rhetorical framework that the US Government was engaged in spreading freedom throughout the world. There were just some differences of opinion over how to accomplish such a lofty principle. And in the case of Murrow, it’s symbolic in some ways of the time that he would smoke on the set, on the air.

The larger point is that at a certain point in our history, the public–at least the majority white electorate (things weren’t going so well for blacks in the US in the 1950s and 60s …. or today, for that matter)–looked to the network television newscasts for news and leadership, and there were some courageous people, both in front and behind the camera, who were willing to take risks and challenge power. Like a phantom limb, that expectation that the network news will inform the electorate and keep democracy strong, lingers. Media critic Jay Rosen recently declared the death of journalism at CNN (the Daily Show did so years ago). And as for Fox News or MSNBC? We’ve been there and done that.

That’s not to say that there aren’t real journalists working for these networks, trying to do principled journalism. But given the financial pressures, the powerful advertising interests and the need to come up with lively ratings bait, that’s sort of like taking a job at Burger King to save the world from the ravages of red meat (back to the structure/agency dilemma). And the bigger problem–people turn to the TV for much of the content that informs their political views (although the demographics are changing among younger generations).

But according to Jeffrey Jones (author of ‘Entertaining Politics‘), while network TV news seems almost oxymoronic, that doesn’t mean that politics and political discourse are irrelevant across the landscape of television programming. Neil Postman, writing in the 1980s, harshly criticized TV news as little more than ‘show business.’ The ‘entertainment imperative,’ along with the medium itself, and (let’s not forget) the commercial pressures to turn a profit, made serious political debate difficult if not impossible. Complex issues don’t lend themselves to sound bites. Sociologist Robert Putnam, writing in the 1990s, suggested that increased time in front of the TV was one of the main reasons that ‘social capital’ (the resources, organizations and associations that have long helped define community) was in decline. Roderick Hart posits that television may increase cynicism of politics, but also make people more comfortable in their roles as cynics (which he doesn’t see as particularly useful).

Jones says that things have changed. Crossfire, ironically, was recently exhumed by CNN (less shouting now). But careful what you throw out with that bath water! This doesn’t mean that TV has suddenly become a serious platform for serious debate and discussion–the financial pressure that produces sound bites and shouting matches still occurs, in all its nonsense. He does contend that people have found ways to engage in politics through the TV, though–it’s just different, usually more entertaining, sometimes mostly satire, but not entirely without merit. And then, there’s the argument that can be made that politics, at least at the national level, has become so self-serving and dysfunctional, that poking fun at it could be a major new growth sector for TV. In other words, TV has found a niche to engage the electorate–at least some portions of it–in politics, but in unconventional ways that go beyond the idea that corporate news is some sort of ‘regime of truth.’

As Jones puts it (p.  26):

The case is made for television as a pluralist forum of social conversation that offers accessible interpretive procedures for making sense of the world. That argument is linked to the recognition of the importance of popular culture as a central location of our affective commitments in public life, as a familiar site where political life can be made meaningful.

Okay, let’s pick that apart. First, pluralist forum of social conversation. Television (not unlike other media) offers up a variety of ideas, philosophies, political points of view, etc. Ideally, anyway. And it’s often a dialogue–an ongoing conversation about issues (even if your participation is only sought as audience member. Second, accessible interpretive procedures …. most of us have access to the medium. And TV offers ways of thinking about politics that help people make sense of them. Next, the importance of popular culture. Politics has become part of this–celebrities stump for their candidates, whether Chuck Norris, Beyonce, or Obama Girl (change of heart, Sean?). Comedians pick them apart. Candidates appear on talk shows. TV programming takes on political issues from time to time. Although Neil Postman might turn over in his grave at the thought, Jones essentially points out through illustration that information and entertainment are not mutually exclusive categories.

Now the cynic might say that this is just like advertisers worming their way into the public schools, via vehicles like Channel One–that politicians see popular culture and media as even less critical venues for communicating their messages. Jon Stewart for instance is usually harder on the news business than he is on his guests. But Jones likely wouldn’t dispute this. His is a more general argument (going back to the bathwater …). As he says (p. 13), … ‘entertaining political forms of TV programming are active participants in shaping the micro and macro dimensions of politics, political communication, and political culture.’ In other words, television does affect politics, and vice versa, and we have to dig a little deeper and get beyond the idea that this is categorically and unequivocally a bad thing to mix the two.