Abstract
In the 1940s, according to Victor Pickard, the decline of New Deal liberalism and other economic and societal changes presented “a window of opportunity” to reform the American Media system. In America’s Battle for Media Democracy: The Triumph of Corporate Libertarianism and the Future of Media Reform, he chronicles the efforts of grassroots activist groups, progressive policy makers, and media consumers to make the American media system more responsive to the needs of a democracy and less driven by commercial imperatives.
Pickard presents three case studies: the so-called “Blue Book,” in which the Federal Communications Commission (FCC) attempted to assert greater authority over programming policy and the major radio networks; the Fairness Doctrine, which replaced the FCC’s ban on editorializing with a requirement to balance other points of view; and the work of The Hutchins Commission, bankrolled by Henry Luce, the publisher of Time and Life, to stipulate policies for the proper function of the press in a democratic society. In this endeavor, Pickard builds on the work of others—most notably Robert McChesney—who have chronicled the efforts of reformers in the 1930s to fight the dominance of commercial interests in formulating media policy. Even though these earlier efforts came essentially to naught, Pickard contends that in the 1940s there were still opportunities to chart a different course for the entrenched commercial media system.
Each of Pickard’s case studies follows a similar trajectory. First, media reformers propose structural changes that seek to emphasize the public service responsibilities of media. Second, the proposals get watered down to the point of being—at best—modest tweaks to the commercial system. Third, the industry howls in protest and eventually discredits even the watered-down proposals. Finally, we are left with what Pickard calls “corporate libertarianism,” in which corporations are granted individual freedoms, and an unregulated marketplace is alleged as the best way for the media to meet the democratic needs of society.
In the case of the Blue Book, New Deal FCC chairman James Lawrence Fly and fellow progressive commissioners sought to address radio’s programming shortcomings by going after the major networks: CBS and NBC. After much deliberation, what emerged was an assertion of the FCC’s right to consider programming practices in license-renewal decisions, and somewhat vague requirements that stations run less advertising and more public interest programming. Although public reaction to the Blue Book was initially positive, commercial broadcasters, as Pickard notes, “responded as if their very existence were in question.” The National Association of Broadcasters claimed that the FCC was seeking to control and censor radio programming, and the industry’s leading trade magazine, Broadcasting, wondered if the Blue Book had been cribbed from the Nazis. Eventually, the commission backed off nearly all of the Blue Book’s proposals.
Similarly, in 1941’s Mayflower decision, the FCC enacted a ban on editorializing by broadcast stations, and noted stations’ public service obligations to present “all sides of important public questions, fairly, objectively and without bias.” Reacting to broadcasters’ pressure, however, the FCC replaced the Mayflower Doctrine with the Fairness Doctrine, which merely urged stations to devote time to public issues and to air opposing viewpoints. Once again, as Pickard notes, the resulting policy “ignored structural concerns” and instead entrusted public issues to “the framework of a nominally socially responsible commercial media system.” Even this, however, did not appease the broadcasters, who continued to fight the Fairness Doctrine for decades before finally winning its repeal during the deregulatory years of Ronald Reagan.
The work of the Hutchins Commission met a similar fate, starting with high expectations only to have them watered down significantly. One member of the commission asked early on “whether the giants should be slain or persuaded to do good,” and Chairman Robert Hutchins quickly discovered that his benefactor Luce had no interest in giving the giants any more than a flesh wound. Thus, proposals for structural changes or government intervention were abandoned and what eventually emerged was merely a set of guidelines for the press. Still, the report met with swift opposition from the industry, which “disparaged [it] as the product of a communist cabal endeavoring to subvert press freedoms.”
Pickard concludes the book by noting that current media reform debates such as net neutrality trace much of their context to the failed efforts of the 1940s. The contemporary commercial model, he contends, “is not adequately serving democracy” and presents significant dangers for society moving forward. However, he hopes that by understanding past struggles we can somehow achieve a media framework that is more responsive to the needs of democracy: “It is this vision that has been deferred,” he contends, “still awaiting its moment.”
In America’s Battle for Media Democracy, Pickard has consulted a wide-ranging array of archival material, contemporary press accounts, and existing scholarship to present a rich and engaging narrative that is firmly contextualized within larger political, social, and intellectual developments. It is useful not just for what it tells us about the past, but for helping us understand current and future media reform issues.