Monopoly media
A threat to us all
In these conspiracy-minded times, one of the biggest bogeymen is The Media.
Imagine an elite cabal, silencing all competition, controlling more and more of
what you see. How else could you explain the Spice Girls?
But paranoia, in this case, is wise. There is every reason to worry about the
future of the nation.
The media play a more powerful role with every passing decade. This issue of
the Phoenix, for example, marks television's 50th birthday. When
television first flickered to life, it was an odd experiment; now the average
American spends 16 hours every week in front of the tube.
And everybody has heard the stories of corporate mergers, of the huge media
agglomerations that grow larger by the day, buying out more and more of the
competition.
But these familiar abstractions -- the media's increasing power, and the
concentration of that power -- hurt the community in concrete ways.
Consider Boston. The city's largest paper, the Boston Globe, is now
owned by the $2.1 billion New York Times Company. More than 100 community
newspapers in Greater Boston and on Cape Cod are owned by Community Newspaper
Company, a division of Fidelity Investments, the largest mutual fund company in
the world.
The major television stations are all owned by big outsiders. Both Channel 5
and Channel 7 were once owned by community groups. Now they are owned by the
Hearst Corporation (Channel 5) and the Sunbeam chain (Channel 7). Channel 4 is
run by Westinghouse/CBS.
Radio is even more depressing. As Dan Kennedy explained in the Phoenix
("Sound and Fury,"
News, November 14), the landmark 1996 Telecommunications
Act, which Congress promised would "foster competition," has had the exact
opposite effect. Big chains may now own up to eight stations in a market, and
there are no longer any national limits. In Boston, 16 of the top 20 stations
are owned by four massive conglomerates: Westinghouse/CBS, Chancellor, Greater
Media, and American Radio Systems -- itself soon to be swallowed by
Westinghouse/CBS.
As chains triumph, so does sameness. In radio, the strategy has been simple: a
conglomerate buys out a local station and then stacks it up with nationally
syndicated programming; play lists are set at corporate headquarters. The same
dynamic plays out in other arenas. When community papers are bought up, they
are almost inevitably dumbed down -- if not consciously, then by downsizing
local staffs. This is surest path to profitability. Even "local" TV news has an
Anytown feel. The stories are local, but the formula -- blow-dried anchors
reporting on mayhem, sports, and weather -- is the same everywhere.
The most pernicious part is that it's hard to know what one is missing.
Profit-driven media masters usually scrimp on complex, difficult-to-report
stories. Who will be left to explain what has been ignored?
Richard Norton Smith, biographer of the infamous Chicago Tribune
publisher Colonel Robert R. McCormick, described the trend beautifully for the
Wall Street Journal: "Editors hoping to reverse their declining fortunes
seek to duplicate the compressed blandness of USA Today, assured by
focus groups that news consumers who have scant time to read have even less
interest in being intellectually or politically challenged. The result is
Holiday Inn journalism, recalling in style and substance the sad definition of
middle age as that period in life when everyone you meet reminds you of someone
you already know."
Some see hope in technology: perhaps new means of distribution (such as the
Internet) will make entrepreneurial challenges possible. But recent history has
been shaped more by an economic force: the rise of info-entertainment interests
that control not only substantial portions of one medium (say, film), but also
have major holdings across the board -- cable, book publishing, magazines.
These blocs wield power in such innovative ways that they challenge the
traditional definition of monopoly -- the ability to set prices. For as they
grow (and join with one another), they are able to set cultural agendas, to
control the contours of content.
Faced with this -- one of the greatest (and most complicated) challenges of
the information age -- the federal government has so far failed. The
Telecommunications Act was an abdication that has only made the situation
worse. So now, with television celebrating its first half-century, we are
threatened with a "vast wasteland" writ large: more and more selections, fewer
and fewer choices.
What do you think? Send an e-mail to letters[a]phx.com.