When I was growing up, there were three national television networks. The National Broadcasting Corporation (NBC,) the Columbia Broadcasting System (CBS) and American Broadcasting Company (ABC). We also had a public television channel, which was largely devoted to public education back when education wasn’t indoctrination.
I recall how people would tune into one of the three broadcast companies for the evening news. Among the most respected in those days was CBS’s Walter Cronkite, NBC’s The Huntley–Brinkley Report with Chet Huntley and David Brinkley, and ABC’s anchor Ron Cochran later followed by Peter Jennings. All of these personalities were credible news anchors. They tended to avoid pushing their political opinions, preferring to simply report the news. Back then the networks seemed to trust the idea that if people received an honest news report, they would figure out how best to deal with it.
There would be no need for heavy-handed opinion hosts delegated to shape your views on a particular issue. It was assumed that you were smart enough to process the new reports. There was no requirement for “opinion hosts” to guide you. Nor was there a need to parade a squad of highly biased “talking heads” into your living room to lecture you on the issues of the day. And most assuredly there is no need for people yelling or talking over one other in a rude competition to get the last zinger in before an advertising break mercifully interrupts an otherwise obnoxious exchange.
Before the age of vulgar brawls on the cable networks, there was the development of news magazines designed to tee up controversial issues. No shortage of advocates with slanted views appeared on them. Often these shows were billed as “investigative reports.” In fact, they were well-crafted propaganda presentations designed to elevate victims, expose villains, and enlist you in the social justice ranks to right the underlying wrongs so carefully highlighted in the report.
Their preferred tactic was to interview someone and leave much of the video tape on the cutting room floor. Only the “I-got-cha” moments, the gaffs, the malaprops, or the long pregnant pauses during the interrogation would be retained to put the respondent in the worst light. The full context that might have followed that pause was unnecessary, indeed undesirable. Not newsworthy. Who made that call? Well, the investigative hero reporter who brought his version of the truth into your living room, ably crafted with the cutting room’s scissors. Not all of it was a scam. But a lot of it was. And we loved it. “Did you see that report on 60 Minutes last night!? What a shocker!” Never mind that time would reveal that the report was slanted, but by then the ratings were in, the ads booked, the networks loaded with cash and the public’s opinion formed.
Adding to the cult of “investigative reporting” were the television dramas of Congressional investigations and hearings. The Watergate exposé was a breakthrough in this sort of viewing. So too the confirmation hearings of controversial Supreme Court nominees. Who can forget the scandalous public character assassinations of otherwise honorable nominees for judgeships or other federal appointments? How elevating was that? All there for our revolting consumption. In a way, it was like the Roman Colosseum where people went for lurid entertainment as lions devoured Christians or gladiators disemboweled one another while the public cheered them on. It’s easy to imagine the vile nature of that even today. Just reflect back on what Hamas did to innocent Jewish men, women, and children on 7 October 2023 and the cheering by empty-headed students on our college campuses who align with antisemites. But I digress.
When I watch television today, I am at a loss to find anything worth consuming. Maybe because at seventy-three, I sometimes think I’ve seen it all. But sadly, I haven’t. It could be worse. It likely will be until and unless we as civilized people demand otherwise. But we are not. We continue to watch. We nurse our outrage by consuming more of it. What are we to do?
I suppose we could simply turn off the news. Read a book. Maybe even write one about simpler times when reporting the news was enough. When people listened to one another. When news anchors respected our ability to think for ourselves as they reported the facts absent the bias. When the news was—well—the news and the thinking part was left to each of us. But that was then. Now vacuous cable hosts caked in makeup and hairspray yell at us through our televisions, mocking all they despise in the hope we will join them like the citizens of Rome, who cheered alongside their brutal dictators while humans were ripped apart in the arena.
Our Colosseum is the television.
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