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Weekly UpdatesOn May 9, 1961, Newton N. Minow, the new chairman of the Federal Communications Commission ("FCC" or "Commission"), gave what is probably the most famous speech ever delivered by the head of an American regulatory agency. It remains the single most searing indictment of television. Before the National Association of Broadcasters ("NAB"), Minow challenged his listeners to watch television all day, something he had made himself do one Saturday before coming to Washington. "I can assure you that you will observe a vast wasteland." (1)
More than a harsh criticism of television programming, the speech carried the promise of change. Minow reminded his listeners, most of whom operated broadcast stations, that the FCC had the authority to make them alter their programming practices. "[T]he people own the air," he remarked. "For every hour that the people give you, you owe them something. I intend to see that your debt is paid with service." (2) This would not involve censoring specific programs. Minow pledged "no suppression of programming which does not meet with bureaucratic tastes." (3) Rather, the chairman cited the Commission's traditional, if listlessly enforced, policy that stations, when seeking the renewal of their licenses, document their record of public-service programming. "[M]any people feel that in the past licenses were often renewed pro forma. I say to you now: renewal will not be pro forma in the future. There is nothing permanent or sacred about a broadcast license." (4)
Minow's address created a sensation. "Your speech is still reverberating," wrote his political mentor, Adlai E. Stevenson, on May 25, 1961, "and your fame growing more rapidly than your troubles!" (5) Indeed, the Chairman's remarks did generate extensive news coverage, far more than the press normally had allotted a regulatory agency the previous eight years. More stories, columns, editorials, and broadcast interviews followed. In fact, in 1961, no other member of the new Kennedy administration, except the president himself, made more television and radio appearances than Minow. The Associated Press's survey of editors chose him as the year's top newsmaker. (6) Such reportage introduced him (and his agency) to millions of Americans, and some 4000 wrote the chairman, most in support of his position. A Commission analysis of the first 2542 communications received indicated that 2049, or 80.6% of those writing, completely agreed with the chairman's sentiments. Only fifty-five dissented. (7)
The speech itself had much to do with its impact. FCC Chairmen routinely spoke at the NAB's annual convention. They were bland, forgettable exercises delivered by bland career bureaucrats. James Lawrence Fly, who had chaired the Commission from 1939-44, had attacked broadcasters and radio programming, including soap operas. (8) But Fly had been the great exception. "A bold scout for the New Frontier," wrote a Washington Star columnist, "has broken with a thunderclap through the barriers of do-nothingness which time and official timidity have erected around the independent agencies of the Government." (9) As a political scientist told Minow, "[Y]ou are just about the only Commissioner in years who has openly told the truth in the plain language about the quality of American TV programming. (10)
Like Stevenson, the Democratic party's 1952 and 1956 presidential nominee, Minow took public address seriously. (11) Many Americans admired Stevenson for his rhetorical skills more than any other aspect of his candidacy. His speech accepting the Democratic nomination in 1952 was widely praised. Even more noteworthy, however, and relevant to an analysis of Minow's NAB speech, was Stevenson's August 1952 address to the American Legion's national convention. In one of his first major appearances after being nominated, Stevenson faced and chose to challenge a hostile crowd. Most Legionnaires were expected to support Stevenson's Republican opponent. And most even more keenly practiced a fervent anti-communism. Two years earlier, the Legion had recommended that all members of the Communist Party be tried for treason. On the local level, Legionnaires had monitored the patriotism of public school teachers and librarians. (12) Rather than cultivate the Legionnaires' good will by, for example, emphasizing his support for veterans benefits, Stevenson attacked their strident anti-communism. "The tragedy of our day is the climate of fear in which we live, and fear breeds repression," he remarked. "Too often sinister threats to the Bill of Rights, to freedom of the mind, are concealed under the patriotic cloak of anti-communism." (13)
Minow was similarly confrontational. The same speech, delivered to a national parents group for "better" television, would not have possessed the same news value. The FCC Chairman would have been preaching to the choir. At the same time, several journalists covering the meeting proved to be powerful publicists. Val Adams's account of the speech appeared on page 1 of the May 10 The New York Times. Jack Gould, The Times's respected television columnist, wrote an admiring analysis of the address. (14) The Washington Post, Detroit Free Press, The Miami Herald, and New York Herald Tribune gave Minow's speech similar treatment. Within days, other large newspapers followed. (15)
Such editorial judgments conveyed the extent to which television had become a part of the national culture. In early 1961, nearly nine out of ten households had one or more televisions. Television viewing had eclipsed every other form of mass entertainment. The public, Minow remarked later in the year, "spends more time now with television than it does on anything else except working and sleeping." (16)
Television had triumphed over the older mass media despite offering relatively few choices. In most viewing areas, consumers could select from three channels, each of which was affiliated with a network. In 1961, 95% of all stations were affiliated with one of the three networks. (17) The largest markets, including New York, Chicago, and Los Angeles, had independent stations--ones without network affiliation. These channels telecast sporting events, old feature films, and reruns of network series. (18) Educational stations operated in some communities. But in January 1961, less than 10% of the nation's 579 television channels were non-commercial. (19) Many large cities, including New York, Los Angeles, Cleveland, and Washington, D.C., lacked non-commercial channels. Along the East Coast, one educational television ("ETV") station, located in Philadelphia, operated between Boston and Chapel Hill, North Carolina. ETV stations, usually closely tied to a university or public school system, had limited schedules of pedantic programs. They drew few viewers. One supporter confessed: "Educational television today is like oatmeal: vaguely good for you, but a little hard to take." (20)
The commercial networks' hegemony prompted many of those who cheered Minow's critique. Applauding Minow's efforts in August 1961, the national board of the American Civil Liberties Union concluded that "the monopolistic nature of the [broadcasting] industry necessitates government supervision." (21) "The network leadership takes millions from the public air space," wrote former FCC Chairman Fly. "This is only an added reason why any indolence and arrogance on their part toward the public's vital interest are not to be tolerated." (22)
An examination of the letters Minow received after his NAB talk, however, suggests that most of those writing worded less about the structure of the TV industry than its performance. Although Minow himself had expected most of his correspondents to be mothers concerned about television's effects on children, more men than women wrote the chairman. (23) And they expressed a broader discontent.
The Chairman's supporters had concluded, not altogether wrongly, that the television networks and stations had become obsessed with reaching the largest possible number of viewers during the broadcast day. In the process, they had essentially disenfranchised those who preferred other types of shows. Until the mid-1950s, each network had self-consciously dedicated portions of its schedule to cultural and news programming. In most instances, such efforts had not commanded high ratings. Yet they had appealed to what insiders dubbed "light viewers." Frequently better educated and more well-to-do than the average viewer, they consumed relatively little television. By 1961, however, they reported watching even less. Increasing competition among the networks, as well as pressure from national advertisers, caused reductions in telecasts for light viewers. Three programming fads--the big-money quiz shows, the "adult" western, then the detective series--had displaced many culturally ambitious programs. The most notable casualties were hours dedicated to original dramas, virtually all of which left the air, and CBS's news program, See It Now. (24) Not all programming for light viewers was canceled. In fact, the networks increased their news telecasts partly in response to criticisms that followed revelations, late in 1959, that many of the big-money quiz shows had been rigged. (25) Yet some correspondents were doubtful. "The alleged 'sweeping reforms' which were to follow the quiz program scandals never materialized," wrote a New York City woman. (26) Others still longed for an earlier period in TV's short history. "Ten years ago when T.V. was just beginning, before the advertizers [sic] had come into such complete control, the medium was a delight with programs like 'Studio 1' and the 'G.E. Theater' in its hour long version," wrote a Pennsylvania woman. "Now, with the exception of a few newscasts, which are excellent, television has become just the American version of the Roman games; blood, gore, sadism and all!" (27)
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