Introduction
In 1964, Marshall McLuhan pointed out that new technologies,
such as television and the computer, have changed our vision of the
world. He wrote describing his new paradigm:
After three thousand years of
explosion, by means of fragmentary and mechanical technologies, the
Western world is imploding. Today, after more than a century of
electric technology, we have extended our central nervous system
itself in a global embrace, abolishing both space and time as far
as our planet is concerned. Rapidly, we approach the final phase of
the extension of man -- the technological simulation of
consciousness, when the creative process of knowing will be
collectively and corporately extended to the whole of human
society.
McLuhan's vision came to be known as the global village; a
result of his equation, in its own way as revolutionary as Albert
Einstein's E=MC2, that "the medium is the message." McLuhan's
insight was that media are the extension of the human nervous
system, and "the personal and social consequences of any medium
result from the new scale that is introduced into our affairs... by
any new technology."
One of the most important writers to follow McLuhan has been
George Gilder. His Life After Television, significantly distributed
in "The Larger Agenda" series by Whittle Direct Books in 1990,
argued that "television, in technical terms, was dead." Gilder
counselled against following the Japanese model of government
bureaucracies and business consortia because large, centralized
organizations were an outdated relic of obsolete technologies --
dating from the Industrial Revolution of the 19th Century.
With the introduction of the micro-chip, Gilder argued
"Intelligence could move from the broadcast station into
inexpensive, home-based personal computers.... The choices now made
by broadcasters at an event could be made at home by a viewer's
hand-held remote control." The entire existing terrestrial
broadcast system became outdated, in Gilder's words, "as passe as
last century's ice-box and ice wagon." According to Gilder, the
result will be enhanced individualism, strengthening democracy and
capitalism all around the world. In Gilder's view, all networks are
the equivalent of ice companies doomed by the invention of
refrigeration.
Such an individualism means that the era of television as a
purely mass medium is over, to be replaced by an electronic
marketplace entered through the "telecomputer." This marketplace
will be accessible through fiber optic cables and digital
compression. Gilder argues such an "electronic town hall" (to
borrow from Ross Perot or Heritage's own new service) will
"liberate our imaginations from programs regulated by bureaucrats
chosen by a small elite of broadcasting professionals and governed
by the need to target the lowest common denominators of public
interests," or in the case of PBS, by political considerations.
Gilder uses the metaphor of the magazine business, with dozens
of special interest publications for every taste, as his vision for
the micro-chip age, which is now upon us.
Critic David Marc argues that we don't even have to wait for the
telecomputer -- that cable and satellite broadcasting, along with
the home-video cassette, have already rendered mass media as a
thing of the past. In Demographic Vistas, he remarks:
As NBC, CBS, ABC, and PBS and
big-city independents are joined by HBO, ESPN, A&E, CBN, WHT,
USA, CNN and the rest yet to come in the alphabet soup of the cable
converter, the forty years or so during which scores of millions of
people watched the same TV shows day in and day out are likely to
be remembered as a quaint, naive period. Cable innovations will
allow the demographer marketeers to decentralize structure and even
to isolate and attack pockets of aesthetic resistance (the highly
educated are among the early, prominent target groups).
So McLuhan, Gilder, and Marc all argue that the transformation
of technology has changed our way of life irrevocably, and that the
approaches of the past will be of little help in the future. In
this sense they have an affinity with Jacques Ellul, who argues in
The Technological System that "the human being who uses technology
today is by that very fact the human being who serves it. And
conversely, only the human being who serves technology is truly
able to use it." At a crucial moment, then, one might ask "not what
your technology can do for you, but what you can do for your
technology." And it is with this constrained vision that I would
like to discuss the role of public television on the cultural
marketplace after privatization.
A Sea Change
The current debate over public television is not occurring in
isolation. The present moment is one of tremendous change in the
communications industry and show-business, as the impact of the
events of the 1980s is beginning to be felt.
In Europe, the fall of Communism has resulted in an explosion of
private media outlets, and a revolution in the relationship between
broadcasters and the marketplace. I recently returned from MIP, the
international TV program market in Cannes, where I attended a press
conference on the privatization of Russian television, and heard a
pitch on why a network buy in Russia now was a bargain. At the same
time, the European Community is preparing to increase production of
television, much of it in English, designed for sale to the
American market. And in France there are rumors that Antenne 2, the
second public channel, will be sold off to private investors before
the next national elections. Already, Canal, Plus, a private
wireless cable channel, is the most successful station in Europe,
and owns Carolco pictures, which produced both Basic Instinct and
JFK. TF-1 successfully drove its competitor, le Cinq, off the air
-- with a little help from the French government, which plans to
split its franchise between a French-German cultural channel and
Jacques Lang's dream of a national MTV for France.
In England, the BBC announced a joint venture with Thames
Television on a new satellite channel featuring shows from their
tape libraries -- fully financed by advertising. This is a dramatic
change for the BBC, and was announced only days after the victory
of John Major and the Conservatives. The BBC also has started a
service to Asia, again with advertising on its satellite feed.
Thus, even Auntie Bee is moving into the marketplace with
surprising alacrity.
Here in the United States there is evidence of dramatic change
in telecommunications. In addition to the CPB reauthorization still
pending in the Senate, there remains serious legislation to
re-regulate the cable industry; to decide on the entry of telephone
companies into competition with the networks; and to set up a new
satellite service dedicated to educational use called EDSAT. The
networks are pressing for an end to Fin/Syn. In addition, the
competing HDTV suppliers have pooled their resources. Each of these
events alone is a small sign of the sea change in broadcasting. Put
together, they mark the most significant shift since the Nixon
Administration's decisions of Financial Interest in Syndication,
Prime-Time Access, satellites, and cable entry. It is also rumored
that Clayton Yeutter has set up a telecommunications policy working
group in the White House, which indicates just how important these
matters will be in the coming months and years. The tectonic plates
are clearly shifting, and the fight over the public broadcasting
bill is now seen to be a volcano erupting on a fault line, a fault
line caused by the irresistible force of market pressures on a
highly regulated industry. The immense demand can no longer be met
by government sanctioned gatekeepers extracting monopoly rents.
Some measure of the transformation in broadcasting can be seen
in viewing statistics. In 1983-1984, the networks had a 69 share,
independent broadcasters a 19 share, PBS a 3 share, basic cable a 9
share, and pay cable a 5 share. Six years later, the numbers had
shifted dramatically. In 1990-1991, the networks were down sixteen
points, to a 53 share, independents up slightly to a 21 share, and
basic cable up fifteen points to a 24 share. Meanwhile, PBS
remained static at a 3 share, which meant its core of loyal viewers
were not switching, but neither were they getting new audiences.
Another set of statistics, from Entertainment Weekly, actually
reported PBS audiences went down by 12 percent in 1990-1991. In
that same period, cable stations doubled their expenditures on
programming from $1.74 billion to $3.46 billion, some three times
the annual budget for public broadcasting. Given these statistics,
how can public broadcasting cope with the seismic changes in their
universe? Harold Vogel points out in his book Entertainment
Industry Economics that Direct Broadcast Satellite, Microwave
Multi-point Distribution of Signals, Small Master Antenna
Television, and subscription television will all be growth
technologies challenging cable's dominance, as well as the current
share of the networks and PBS. He notes "technological development
has been the driving force behind the growth of the entertainment
industries." Vogel further notes that in a competitive environment,
small entrepreneurs (not established) thrive because of the
inherent non-standardization and novelty required. Vogel says
creative works "are uniquely produced and are normally originated
by individuals working alone or in small groups, and not by giant
corporate committees. One can become rich and famous as a direct
result of one's own creative efforts."
How can public broadcasting provide an environment which
attracts such creative entrepreneurs? Only by transforming the
system into one which rewards individualistic impresarios rather
than bureaucratic operators.
Creative Competition
This competition means that government funding, with its
strings, serves to stunt the growth of public broadcasting. Richard
Blum and Richard Lindheim predict that pay-per-view will become an
increasingly competitive source of programming in the 1990s, in
their book Primetime Network Television Programming. In that book,
they point out that the creative process is an extremely personal
one. The presentation begins with an oval "pitch" explaining a
series idea. The written presentation is usually not shown to the
network, unless there is a complication. The most important factor
is showmanship. They add: "A number of key ingredients are
necessary for a successful presentation. Among them are honest
enthusiasm, abundance of detail, humor, conviction, and
adaptability." Once the idea is accepted, the written concept is
purchased. As the authors point out, it "often sounds like a TV
guide marketing blurb." They reprint the one-paragraph concept for
Murder She Wrote as follows:
Angela Lansbury stars as a celebrated
mystery writer, Jessica Fletcher, whose penchant for crime-solving
invariably involves her in often bizarre and always colorful
escapades. Once a contented widow from a small town in Maine,
Jessica has found fame, as well as adventure, by turning her
avocational scribblings into a lucrative new career. A star-studded
cast and an endless chain of nieces and nephews will join her as
she solves the most intriguing of crimes with the most eccentric of
methods.
In contrast to the highly personal creative process surrounding
commercial programming, because of its reliance on tax dollars
today public broadcasting operates much more like a government
bureaucracy. According to 1988 congressional testimony from Fred
Wiseman, the system is a "mess." He added, "most competent
professionals would not consider working in public television in
its present form." Yet, so long as public broadcasting is
accountable for federal tax dollars it will rightfully be hamstrung
by administrative procedures inimical to the creative spirit,
designed for civil service priorities. Evidence for this can be
seen in the lack of successful new series on PBS prime-time
schedules, even a follow-up to General Motors' The Civil War.
Evidence can also be found in P.J. O'Rourke's description of
bureaucracy. He says "the actual work of government is too
unglamorous for the people who govern us to do. Important elected
office-holders and high appointed officials create bureaucratic
departments to perform the humdrum tasks of national supervision.
Government proposes, bureaucracy disposes. And the bureaucracy must
dispose of government proposals by dumping them on us."
Such a system rewards the bureaucratic mind, not the creative
and glamorous spirit. It is a fact that even Norman Lear, one of
the most successful producers in Hollywood and certainly a bona
fide liberal, was unable to get his American Writer's Theatre --
which would have featured adaptations of classic American authors
-- through the PBS and CPB maze. It is not surprising, as Jonathan
W. Emord has shown in his book Freedom, Technology and The First
Amendment. "The normal functioning of the free speech and press
models is possible only in the absence of government regulation."
But federal tax dollars carry federal strings. Therefore, for
public broadcasting to be free and creative, it must be truly
independent -- and that means financially private -- in order to
thrive.
How is this to take place? The answer lies in the rich potential
of the ancillary revenues from public broadcasting. As has been
shown by the success of ventures such as Bill Kling's $77,000,000
Minnesota Public Radio catalogs, or Ken Burns's and Bill Moyers's
video and book tie-ins, or Sesame Street's licensing of $1 billion
worth of merchandise world-wide, there are substantial revenues to
be earned in the public broadcasting aftermarkets.
With a real, bottom line after privatization, public
broadcasters will be encouraged to make deals so that the profits
from ancillary income go directly to finance the creation of new
programming. This will be true for stations as well. The copyrights
for public broadcasting productions would be the motor of this
prosperity. Combined with donations, underwriting, and increased
corporate support, these sums will more than make up for the
trade-off in federal funds. Such a self-supporting public
broadcasting system could be run on either a non-profit or a
for-profit basis. If non-profit, the model might be The National
Geographic Society. With 10,000,000 members -- twice as many as
public broadcasting -- National Geographic runs $450,000,000 of
cultural and educational programs each year -- including two TV
series, a magazine, the visitor center, and numerous expeditions
and publications. Yet, it receives no direct tax dollars, unlike
the present CPB.
Or CPB could go for-profit as a publicly held and publicly
traded corporation, receiving its capital from the marketplace
instead of the taxpayer. This would still leave the local stations
untouched, free to operate as they have been doing.
But instead of receiving community service grants as they now
do, local stations and other recipients would have to bargain over
the terms of contracts with a partner who had a bottom line to
meet. This would enforce fiscal discipline on the entire system,
and perhaps encourage public television stations to increase their
audiences. It would create incentives to reach viewers. Share
holders could participate proudly in any profits, having converted
charity to an investment.
The non-profit model is already successful for Children's
Television Workshop, grossing $100 million annually. The for-profit
model also exists in production companies such as Ken Burns's
Florentine Films and Bill Moyers' Public Affairs Television.
All of them are already truly thriving in the cultural
marketplace, selling books, records, and videocassettes, among
other items. There is no reason their successes could not be
duplicated in such a way that contribute directly to the system
instead of extracting profit (and "non-profit") from the
system.
Conclusion
By entering the cultural marketplace as a truly private entity
and directly competing with new services, and by using its
strongest programming to support new products, Public Television
has every opportunity to grow and prosper in the multi-channel
marketplace. For in addition to all its tangible assets, Public
Television enjoys another benefit -- the good will engendered by
its long established reputation for quality educational and
cultural programming. It is a blue-ribbon name, on which one cannot
even place a dollar estimate. With the proper marketing strategy,
and a willingness to go head-to-head in competition, there can be
no doubt but that PBS could establish itself in the market niche of
the "Tiffany" service by the end of the 1990s, and Tiffany's is a
very successful shop.
Without the stifling influence of the government bureaucracy
which goes with its congressional appropriation, a liberated CPB
will be free to bring far more of the finest in arts, education,
and culture to viewers like you, at no cost to the taxpayer.
© 1995 Persimmon IT, Inc.