When was the last time you felt like you
were the "public" in public radio? Seldom, you say? Now there's a new
trend that may remove you for good. Once seen as immune to market speculation
and rapid swings in format, public radio has gone commercial in its thinking.
The programming will soon follow, and the biggest losers in this battle
for dollars will be us, the listening audience.
This article is an attempt to analyze that
latest trends in public radio programming, and to reveal the conversations
that are taking place behind closed doors. What is at stake is more
than just hearing your favorite classical piece with the minor movements
cleanly excised for "happier listening." We stand to lose our voice
in the one medium that claims to be by and for the public.
There are approximately 1,500 noncommercial
stations in the US. Some use the label "public", some "community",
and some "educational." For the sake of this discussion, "public"
will mean the 340 stations funded by the Corporation for Public Broadcasting
(CPB) and interconnected to a central programming source by satellite.
"Community" generally refers to stations as to a community group or college,
with a strong local identity, that upholds public access as a guiding principal.
While there are many different formats on the noncommercial dial, trends
are afoot that affect everyone equally.
It doesn't take a Sherlock Holmes to find
signs of public radio's current direction. Just take a look at the
audience descriptions in this year's Broadcasting Yearbook. For every
one that says "ethnic/cultural" or "diverse," there are three that read,
"target audience: 'upwardly mobile, educated youth,' 'upscale, affluent,
societally conscious,' '25-50 urban professionals,' 'educated adults.'"
Most stations make no apologies about the
high income level of their target audience. They assume they will
attract the wealthiest listeners by offering an inoffensive menu of classical
music and news. A recent CPB-funded survey of 750 public stations
found that classical-music formats dominated the field, occupying 34 percent
of on-air hours. Jazz and news came in second and third. The
survey found that public radio had less appeal for African Americans, Asians,
and non-high school-educated folks. Station programming plans through 1995
show no indication of a change in that demographic.
There is a new move toward single-format
public radio stations. WHYY in Philadelphia used to have news, classical,
folk, blues, jazz, and local public-affairs programming. One day
the program director called in the on-air volunteers and told them their
services would no longer be needed. The station went to an all-news format,
relying heavily on satellite feeds from NPR and augmenting it with local
news and talk. The trend caught on at KPBS in San Diego, which went
all news/talk in winter 1990. "The whole point was to serve the community,"
insists Michael Flaster, program manager and architect of the switch.
"We didn't want to isolate the communities and say, 'this is your half-hour,
and this is your half-hour."
These stations are reporting a big increase
in dollars and a surge in their ratings. Most of the dozen or so
all-news stations are in major cities, where there are lots of other radio
choices. But what happens when a small town's only non-commercial
station follows this path?
Once a station gets a satellite dish, hundreds
of high-quality programs become available at the flip of a switch.
Currently the average programming ratio is 60 percent local, 40 percent
national, but the hours for satellite-fed shows are increasing, along with
their placement in prime-time slots. Program directors argue that
highly produced programs like "Morning Edition" and "Talk of the Nation"
draw more listeners and dollars. They also cost so much that some
stations are cutting other programs to pay for them. Does that mean
that all our local public stations will become mere repeaters for National
Public Radio in Washington? In the end, the expense of these programs
may ensure that the local programming will remain. But what exactly
does local programming sound like?
Consultants from a Cleveland, Ohio affiliate
are hard-selling public radio stations a new, $8,000 computer software
package. The program spits out playlists each day based on key words
that are designed to inspire people to tune in. For the morning it
chooses "uplifting, inspirational" classical pieces. The computer
prints out popular selections which are composed in major keys, or if not,
suggests omitting the movements in minor keys. "Familiarity creates
tune-in" is a favorite catchphrase of program directors. That means
you will hear warhorses trotted out in formation. The tried-and-true melodies
of Tchaikovsky's First Piano Concerto. How about the theme from Swan
Lake? Or that second movement from Beethoven's Ninth Symphony?
Does this sound like the Classical Top Forty? WMRA-FM, in Harrisonburg,
Virginia, recently (ed. note: 1991) spent $18,000 of listener contributions (unbeknownst
to the contributors) for classical marketing research to go with their
new computer-run programming system.
Most public radio stations will defend
their narrow programming in terms of the current economy. True, budget
crunches on the state level are affecting the university funding that is
the life-blood of these public stations. While the economic arguments
are real, they are also self-created. Stations have become increasingly
autocratic in their staffing and have enlarged their staffs to accommodate
the increased paperwork. They have replaced volunteers with paid
announcers, citing the need for "oversight" of air sound. The most
popular programs tend to come from NPR or APR (American Public Radio) and
are the most expensive. A typical station can pay as much as $50,000
for "All Things Considered" and "Morning Edition." Although listener
contributions are at an all-time high at most stations, the increasing
cost of satellite programming keeps them struggling to balance their budgets.
A cycle is set in motion in which program directors measure a show by its
profitability alone, forgetting that there may be other yardsticks by which
to measure success.
Did all these program directors spontaneously
decide to eliminate the "community element" from their stations?
Hardly. A critical document came out of NPR in 1986 - the Audience-Building
Task Force Report. With the goal of doubling public radio's audience
by the year 1990, it advised "professionalizing" the sound by eliminating
programs where "each person selects program material on the basis of personal
taste." Commercial audience research from Hagen Media Research in
Washington is also being circulated around NPR stations. It reveals
that "talent" (read: local human-being announcer) just isn't important
to listeners. The issue hinges on program directors having control
over every aspect of programming, including what announcers will play and
say. This control is centralized through the Public Radio Program
Directors Association, a group headed by consultant Craig Oliver (ed note: Mr. Oliver has moved on), who has
pushed his single-format theory aggressively within the public radio system.
What is at stake when announcers are removed from artistic decisions?
Up until recently, most hosts were chosen on the basis of their speaking
skills and their musical knowledge. They had a personal passion about
their music that we shared with them as listeners. I've even been
persuaded to listen to Swiss yodeling because the DJ introduced it so well.
A DJ used to be a person you could call
up and talk to. Now the internal memos advise DJs to ignore requests
if they don't fit the format.
In some parts of the country, you can tell
where you are just by tuning across the dial. You can still hear
a Norwegian lilt in the Midwest, or a drawl in the Southeast. In
the rural South you might find obituaries read at 10 am and the swap-shop
call-in program at noon. One California station has a community bulletin
board where you can find a vegetarian, lesbian roommate or a pet chihuahua;
turn the dial, and the local city council is dueling it out over building
a new mall. There's a women's show discussing self-defense, and there's
a Chicano show talking about immigration. At WMMT in eastern Kentucky,
you'll hear about the coal strikes, land-use battles and music that characterize
life in the region. The common vision of these community stations
stems from understanding the uniqueness of the listeners they serve.
Local citizens actually have some say in what comes out of their radio.
If you live in rural Maine, what's wrong
with having some guy from St. Paul, Minnesota giving you the day's news
and music? The answers cut to the heart of what's bothering many
folks today. We may be a highly mobile society, but we still want
to know where we live, and to feel connected to our neighbors. When
there are no local people doing shows of local or regional interest, the
community is not represented to itself over the airwaves. During the L.A. riots, (ed note: 1991, Rodney King Verdict)
some citizens who turned to public radio for information heard news feeds
from CNN being reported from Atlanta.
One public station I worked for told me
I couldn't read a lost-dog announcement that was called in because it made
us sound too "provincial." Soon after, they dropped the bluegrass programming
because the rural audience it attracted "wasn't educated and upscale enough"
and didn't "fit our mission statement." This station serves a largely
rural audience. Public-radio program directors have misread their core
audience in much the same way presidential candidates have alienated voters.
As with election speeches, during fund raisers they claim to give listeners
a voice in programming decisions which does not actually exist. As
in our two-party system, listeners must choose from a tiny menu of programs
when they vote with their pledge dollars. More "audience research"
is being done these days to determine the needs of listeners. However,
the Arbitron rating service used by many stations measures the average
number of people who listen to existing programs, not audience needs.
The face of America is changing; unless
public radio changes with it, it will continue to suffer from an elitist
image and, eventually, diminishing resources. On a national level,
there are encouraging signs. Peter Pennekamp, NPR's v.p. for cultural
programming, says his department has just received a $400,000 grant from
the Ford Foundation to explore and develop programming for multi cultural
audiences. Lynn Chadwick, President of the National Federation
of Community Broadcasters, is pushing the Corporation for Public Broadcasting
to increase its service grants from $2 million to $5 million. While
opposing the plan to bring networks into rural areas, she is lobbying for
support of local programming. Responding to ethnic and regional needs,
networks like "Radio Bilingual" in California, "The Native American Broadcasting
Consortium," and "The Southern Regional Network" are filling the gap.
Still, when it comes to local control, in 1992 there are only 39 noncommercial
stations owned by African Americans, and 13 owned by Hispanics groups.
A quiet battle is being waged by several
citizens' groups across the country to gain some voice in their public
stations' programming. At the heart of the fight is not which format
will prevail, but who decides and who is responsible. One morning
last year, the people of Grand Junction, Colorado woke up to find that
their local public radio station, KPRN, had been taken over by its urban
cousin, KCFR from Denver, which beamed its signal into town via satellite.
KPRN's board of directors, acting independently of the community advisory
board, simply gave the station's license away to a new entity created to
oversee both stations. The community advisory board and other disgruntled
citizens are now involved in litigation that they hope will return local
control of the station.
At KUNM in Albuquerque, New Mexico, citizens
are fighting a similar battle. Management replaces community volunteers
with an all-jazz format right after soliciting money based on the original
eclectic programming. The ex-volunteers filed three lawsuits, charging
the station management with fraudulent trade practices, a breach in First
Amendment laws, and limiting public access. The University of New
Mexico, which owns the license, has already spent a quarter of a million
dollars on legal costs. Five years later, the citizens' group has settled
for representation on an advisory board with decision making power over
station policy. The station management is presently attempting to
reverse this agreement. Claude Stephenson, one of the group of organizers,
observes, "The management at public stations is not accountable to the
public. We are trying to create a situation where there are checks
and balances on their authority over programming." His wife, Zoe
Econimu, is vice-chair of the embattled advisory board. She suggests
that if attempts at diplomacy fail, listeners should organize a campaign
of withholding pledge dollars, boycotting underwriters, and attending advisory
board meetings.
Radio cannot be for the public unless it
is also by the public. If you live in an area where the public station
still seems responsive to local needs, fight like hell to keep it that
way. Get involved as a volunteer, if they still allow such things.
Get together a community watchdog group and have regular listening sessions
where the service is evaluated for its responsiveness to its audience.
Get on the community advisory board. Become a regular commentator, airing
your (articulate) views on important local topics. And support the
station with your dollars when it does good.
Write letters; be a responsible pest.
If all else fails, find an open frequency and start your own noncommercial
station. At this writing I know of a half-dozen new community stations
preparing to go on the air with a local service.
To quote community radio pioneer Lorenzo
Milam, "A radio station should not be a hole in the Universe for making
money, or feeding an ego, or running the world. A radio station should
be a live place for live people to sing and dance and talk: to talk their
talk and walk their walk and know that they (and the rest of us) are not
irrevocably dead."One Station/One Format
Space Invaders: Satellite Takes Over
Uneasy Listening
The Economy Made Us Do It
The Consultants Made Us Do It
Keeping Regional Identity
Over the Rainbow
Listeners Want to Be Heard
Public Radio for the Public
The hope of the author here is to promote dialog and healthy change. The research and this article was not meant to encourage reactionary tactics that hurt innocent individuals.
Please Note: This article was written in 1992. Some of the factual references made are dated, due to the time that has passed since the research was undertaken which produced this piece. The trends are still in motion, and some stations have passed into memory. This is still a very good start on the subject, and the reader is encouraged to learn more about the subject.