The Trouble with Television is America/part 3

III. The Doctrine of Popular Infallibility

But perhaps the most deeply-rooted illusion keeping America and its television from maturing rapidly enough to meet its agenda is the idea that if the public wants something in a democracy it’s perfectly OK to provide it, no questions asked. Giving the public what it wants is a business shibboleth; advising the public where it is wanting is regarded as a quasi-totalitarianism.

It is time we took a deeper look at the dangers of rule by the numbers. Whatever John Q. wants, John Q. gets goes the refrain. But does he always? Really? Supposing what he really wants is a satisfying work role, and that in the action adventure programs he superficially works out the tension and boredom of his job? More satisfying work is what he really wants. And suppose when he watches the sleek antics of convertibled private eyes, he really wants a satisfying marriage and family life.

And when she watches the canned compassion of Queen for a Day, she really wants to exist in a community where mutual concern is an everyday reality? Or when she and her husband watch Jack Paar and Dorothy Kilgallen spit, they really want to share in significant controversy about the great issues of our day. What I’m driving at is that the ordinary American may be accepting shoddy substitutes for the basic satisfactions a humane industrial society could provide him. The possibility that what we call bad television obscures basic needs is why I am unsatisfied with television criticism which doesn’t look for causes but merely wants to do away with symptoms.

Another insufficiently discussed problem about cultural democracy is that it always carries the risk of failure. The majority can choose poorly, even to the point of self-destruction. Giving the public what it thoughtlessly feels it wants may actually be greasing the skids into oblivion. The enshrinement of the entertainer as hero in America is surely an instance of the public choosing poorly. And it will take much painful readjustment to dethrone Liz and Fabian and Mickey Mantle, and put in their place exemplars worthy of free men. If it is hard to dramatize the real heroes of the American experiment, then that is simply another example of how tough it is to be free successfully

IV. Conclusion

What I’ve been arguing, then, is that American television can ultimately be no better than our understanding of our own history, our own institutions and our selves. Whitman once said that great art requires great audiences, and similarly great television demands an America aspiring to real greatness, not merely a facile sense of superiority. And to paraphrase another great American, don’t ask what this new medium can do for you but ask what you can do in your home and community to help broadcasting achieve greatness. This does not mean however that we should let television get off easily by losing its responsibility in a labyrinth of multiple causation. As my demands on America are high because she has benefitted so much from history, so my demands on the television medium are great because of its unusual potential and our own great need for the understanding that leads to wise action. To which much is given is as true of a medium of communication as it is of a culture.

I think it is providential that when America so needs a spark to galvanize it into broader action, so eloquent and vivid a medium lies ready for businessman, educator, and citizen alike to use in ways that will involve us in truly superior performances. Television’s invention in the decade of the Cold War is a lucky break for us. It may well be our last big one. I hope the American Council for Better Broadcasts (ACBB) will play its part in fulfilling the medium’s potential by at least occasionally wondering whether at least part of the trouble with television is America: While also reminding us that some of the troubles we have in America come from a still maturing television medium.