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The State of Journalism

By Matt Hourihan

Where have the journalists gone?

We live in an era never unlike any other in humankind. Every day, financial transactions dictate our state of affairs. Focus groups tell us what soft drink we enjoy. Focus groups tell us which records we will buy, what movies we will see, and what television shows we will watch, and why.

Twenty-seven years ago, the film Network, starring Peter Finch, Faye Dunaway, and Robert Duvall, among others, was released. The film is about a man, Howard Beale – a journalist – who loses touch with his reality. His reality is that of broadcast television, where ratings, whether we wish to admit it or not, dictate the programming we receive, be it relevant programming or reality television. He loses touch with this reality and begins to speak truth, pointing out our real flaws as a society, and not simply the flaws pointed out by polls, or the flaws elaborated upon by experts, but real flaws, that everyone relates to and can understand, and exist beyond any control.

Does he have answers? No. He says, “I don't know what to do about the depression and the inflation and the Russians and the crying in the streets. All I know is first you've got to get mad. You've got to say, ‘I'm a human being. Goddammit, my life has value!’” And so it goes.

Eventually, he is set straight by his god, the head of the company that has purchased his major network.

Suddenly, he no longer speaks the positive truth of democracy, but the truths of reality, a reality that is not pretty, or enthralling, or hopeful. He tells it like it is.

He’s a journalist, and if viewer does not enjoy, then viewer be damned.

He speaks, in one of the most powerful scenes of the film, of the loss of the individual, the death of democracy, and the rise of those that do not care about individuals, but demographics. The problem is media itself, the very window through which we can see the world, and the tarnished window that is helping to bring about the death of the individual. This is a more easily defensible point than one might realize. The first reaction everyone has to this scene in Network is, “Rubbish, I am myself, and I am an individual.”

But look again. Products are made for mass consumption, to appeal to the lowest common denominator. Corporate mergers happen day in, day out. Michael Powell of the FCC permits the consolidation of various media companies, narrowing our view of the world and the choices of our own entertainment, and strengthening any desired message of Michael Eisner, Rupert Murdoch, Sumner Redstone, and dozens of old white men that no one has ever heard of. Simply because they have learned the powers of manipulation, in the business sense. They wish to make us all want the same things.

Journalism should be one of the noblest of professions, outside of doctors and, dare I say, lawyers. Doctors heal the sick. Lawyers, ideally, bring about justice – and fairness. Journalists tell the truth. Yet each of these is held captive. Journalism, in essence, like law, is held captive by money.

There is a tremendous pile of evidence showing that advertising does, in fact, have an impact on journalism, whether Aaron Brown wants to admit it or not. Stories are pulled quite often, stories of the American people getting hurt, sick, or screwed – simply because they are against the interests of the advertiser. No one acts on this evidence.

Instead, we make sporting events out of elections and wars. We, as journalists, play to the lowest common denominator, willingly or not. We craft news reports out of songs and stunning graphics. We, who are supposed to be for the people, dutifully give those who are acting against the people a voice, and legitimacy, without thinking twice, because, in some backwards way, that equates to fairness. And if it comes at a small price to truth, then so be it.

These ideals we have of objectivity, fairness, or whatever you want to call them, when combined with the realities of the business of journalism, lead to an imbalance. General Electric gets the same representation as the millions of people who are uninvolved, uninterested and at risk from their ideas. The army takes over the airwaves so that we can discuss war strategy, as hundreds of “journalists” are embedded to tell us how the army is doing, and nothing more.

The idea of the individual is an American ideal, one of the central tenets of American culture. Yet America’s individuals are becoming more and more alike, across the board.

Does Network have a pessimistic view? Yes. Twenty six years ago, this film warned against the current power structure, and advocated the real need for truth in journalism, yet also admitted the reality that business has won, and truth is only in favor when it wins ratings and readers. Today, the signs are everywhere that it has won, and there are no Howard Beales ready to show us how, or tell us why.

This is where journalists come in. Every journalist is a Howard Beale. Every journalist has the capacity to find out the truth, to gather the information that lets us know that something is wrong, that anything is wrong. This includes things that could very well signal the death of thought and the individual. And in this sense, the views of those who specialize in manipulation be damned, if they are not honest.

Will journalists rise to the occasion? Probably not. But will the good ones go down fighting, kicking, clawing, and screaming about everything this profession once stood for? You can bet your ass.

Matt Hourihan’s post-graduation plans include sitting, reclining, and ruminating. Email him at Hourihan50@hotmail.com.