| Origins of Public Broadcasting
There seems little doubt that the original lofty goals set out for
public broadcasting remain deeply woven into the character of the
organization and the aspirations of its leaders. “On a sustaining
basis no one is in the space that we’re in,” says Paula
Kerger, President of the Public Broadcasting System. “At the
end of the day, the commercial marketplace simply is not fulfilling
what public television originally set out to do, which was to use
the power of media to entertain, educate and inspire. They [cable]
sometimes entertain pretty well but they don’t always hit
that educate and inspire part.”
While several of the 500 channels—“the
vast wasteland” as former FCC Commissioner Newton Minow famously
labeled television in 1961—have sought to produce high-minded
programming, it rarely survives Wall Street’s demands for
ever-increasing profits, which require large and loyal audiences,
typically built on a formulaic “lowest common denominator”
of public interests. Thus, A&E has lowered its once PBS-like
standards and now provides prime-time staples such as CSI Miami
while Bravo touts its lineup as: “Fashion, Comedy, Celebrity
and Real Estate.”
Although commercial attempts at playing in
the PBS marketplace have frequently fallen short, PBS itself, while
true to its calling, struggles to maintain its viewership, with
the commensurate loss of pledges those viewers provide. Add to that
erosion in the financial support it previously enjoyed from business,
foundations, governments and universities.
The New York Times wasn’t
the first to question PBS’ future this past February, when
it wrote a biting analysis beneath the headline “Is PBS Still
Necessary?” According to the article, “Lately, the audience
for public TV has been shrinking faster than the audience for commercial
networks. The average PBS show on prime time now scores about a
1.4 Nielsen rating, or roughly what the wrestling show ‘Friday
Night Smackdown’ gets.” Acknowledging the occasional
“huge splash” from a Ken Burns special, the Times
uses the term “mustiness” to describe PBS’s prime-time
lineup, noting, “The Newshour, Nova, Nature, Masterpiece
[Theatre] are into their third or fourth decade, and they look it.”
While PBS viewership has slipped from 5.1
million members in 1990 to 3.7 million in 2005, public radio scored
dramatic gains in weekly audience, up from about 2 million in 1980
to nearly 30 million today. But NPR, too, is realizing significant
losses, according to Giovannoni, whose market research is the gold
standard of public radio.
There was a 6 percent decline in listeners
to All Things Considered and Morning Edition between
2004 and 2005, Giovannoni’s research found. His most recent
report, Audience 2010, which “set out to identify
what is causing public radio’s loss of momentum” found
that “our listeners are still listening to radio [but] increasingly
not listening to us.”
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Jerry Wareham & Kit
Jensen
of ideastrem |
Losses in popularity translate into lost
revenues. While listeners and viewers who remain loyal have been
willing to pay more in annual subscriptions or membership fees—on
the PBS side, an average of $55.04 per subscriber in 1990 rose to
$99.84 in 2005—the loss in market share has taken its toll
as corporate sponsors follow the audience. And because the federal
side of the ledger is light in a good year, the bulk of funding
comes from subscribers, corporate sponsors, foundations and state
and local government, with the balance coming from colleges, universities,
auctions and other activities. For 2005, the last year for which
the Corporation for Public Broadcasting (CPB) has reported data,
statistics reflect a one-year loss of 6.7 percent in business sponsorships,
a 7.1 percent decrease in foundation support, a 3.9 percent cut
by states, a 3.7 percent loss in federal grants and contracts, and
a meager 0.3 percent rise in subscriber support.
Adding to the difficulty, each year since
taking office, the Bush administration has sought to slash spending
for public broadcasting operations, most recently seeking a $200
million slice of the $400 million Congress approved for the FY2009
budget. Each year the faithful have rallied, successfully preserving
the 10-to-20 percent federal share of the PBS and NPR budgets.
This financial dilemma is as old as public
radio and public broadcasting in the U.S.. In January 1967, the
landmark Carnegie Commission on Educational Television, created
by Carnegie Corporation of New York, completed a two-year study,
providing the blueprint for creating public television—to
which Congress added, over some objections, public radio—and
enacted the Public Broadcasting Act of 1967, creating CPB as the
oversight mechanism which, in turn, created PBS in 1969, and NPR
in 1970, as the national content producers and parent organizations
for stations throughout the nation. Congress rejected the Carnegie
Commission’s proposal for a 2-to-5 percent excise tax on the
sale of television sets—modeled on the British system for
funding the BBC—to guarantee the unfettered, financial health
of public broadcasting.
Ten years later, a second Carnegie Commission,
often called Carnegie II, issued A Public Trust: The Report
of the Carnegie Commission on the Future of Public Broadcasting,
which sought, once again, to secure financial independence for media
technology and a more forward looking purpose for public broadcasting.
Carnegie II recognized that new technologies
were affecting the media and reinforcing the deeper questions, raised
by visionaries such as Marshall McLuhan, regarding media’s
influence on society, cultural values and democracy. Said the report,
“This institution [public broadcasting], singularly positioned
within the public debate, the creative and journalistic communities,
and a technological horizon of uncertain consequences, is an absolutely
indispensable tool for our people and our democracy.” Thus,
Carnegie II sought to keep the door propped open to future technologies
through a strong, independent financing mechanism, noting, “We
conclude that it is unwise for us to attempt to chart the future
course of public broadcasting as it continues to interact with new
technologies. We are convinced, however, that it is essential for
public broadcasting to have both the money and flexibility necessary
to enable it to chart its own course as it responds to the future.”
That idea, too, went nowhere. Not surprising,
suggest Liroff, a 28-year veteran of WGBH in Boston and currently
Senior Vice President, System Development and Media Strategy at
CPB. He says, “It was, to paraphrase McLuhan, as though we
were speeding into the future at 90 miles per hour with our eyes
firmly fixed on the rearview mirror. The idea of public broadcasting
pre-Internet, pre- any of these technologies, was going to be a
manifestation of the broadcasting system they knew at the time,
dominated, of course, by commercial broadcast.” He continues,
“This question of what is the role of public broadcasting
in the media environment is as relevant today as it was back then
except that the answers have to be very different. This is hardly
the environment in which this system [of media distribution] was
first envisioned.”
Increasingly, there is appeal for public
broadcasting to expand its traditional role, to grow their portfolios
as ideastream has done in order “to provide new services in
new, non-broadcast ways,” explains Richard Somerset-Ward,
an expert on public media and senior fellow at the Benton Foundation,
which promotes digital media in communications. “This includes
distributing other people’s content as well as its own; to
open up the possibility of new revenue streams and to become, in
general, a community enabler, a go-to organization at the heart
of the community, one whose identity is bound up in that of the
community,” he says.
Ward and others argue that public broadcasting
has followed a flawed trickle-up business model: local public broadcasting
stations must raise funds which they pay to NPR or PBS to produce
programming. This has created enormous challenges, primarily for
television where production costs are huge and viewership is decaying.
“The problem with the PBS stations
is that they’ve never been able to contribute enough for PBS
to not be almost totally dependent upon sponsorships, which they
have been unable to keep up,” says Somerset-Ward. “What
you need to do is to increase the amount of funding the stations
put in and that means optimizing the health of the stations. That
doesn’t mean an entirely new business plan [for the stations],
just augmenting the present one. And the way is open to do that
because of digital and all that implies. And Cleveland is the best
example of how that can be done.”
However that requires an attitude adjustment
on the part of broadcasters accustomed to an “I-produce, you-view”
model, in which content is tightly control by producers and “pushed”
to consumers, says Liroff.
Larry Grossman, the former PBS president,
highly regarded as a visionary in public broadcasting, began talking
in the 1980s about the need to create “a grand alliance”
of “heritage institutions,” bringing together public
broadcasters, universities, libraries and museums. Today, Grossman
remains committed to a top-down approach in which PBS and NPR lead
and the stations follow. What is lacking, he says, “is a blueprint
and anybody articulating the dream: what is the role of public broadcasting,
what should it be going forward?”
Yet, Grossman’s vision in the 1980s
remains vital today. Explains Liroff,“What Grossman saw more
clearly than the rest of us is that public broadcasters and universities
and libraries and all the rest are all in the same business and
the old business model that makes them look so different is being
compromised—in the best sense of that word—in terms
of their separate identities by digital technologies, which they
all share. So it is just as likely...that digital technologies allow
these heritage institutions, among others, to begin to extend their
services...on the Internet in ways, which at least in form, will
be indistinguishable one from the other.”
Or, put another way, Internet consumers tend
to be agnostic about the sources of data; they don’t necessarily
know or care which museum or library provided the recording of,
say, Robert Frost reading “The Road Not Taken”—just
that they can access it. Add to that the current steep declines
in the cost of digital storage and you have “extraordinary
consequences for any individual’s ability to call up what
they want when they want it,” says Liroff.
What all this means is that broadcasters
and journalists, who have been trained by competition and regulators,
most notably the FCC, to fiercely protect and keep tight reign over
their turf, to serve as gatekeepers, must learn to loosen the controls,
become more interactive and accepting of “pull” technologies.
But that raises an important question: if
traditional broadcasters are expanding their roles to serve as content
developers and data distributors on platforms other than broadcast,
does the mean that five or ten years from now their primary function
could be something other than delivering programming by radio and
television?
That seems a distinct possibility, say many
observers, including Liroff, Grossman and Somerset-Ward. Yet industry
leaders, including Wareham, Kerger and others, are quick to disagree.
“Everyone is quick to write off traditional
broadcasting, but it’s been around a long time and survived
all sorts of predictions of early demise,” says Ken Stern,
former CEO of NPR. “So I don’t think that’s going
to change.”
Stern resigned his post as CEO this March
after only 18 months, reportedly in a dispute with his board over
NPR’s digital future, which he saw combining a strong video
presence on the web with Public Radio’s traditional radio
journalism. “I absolutely agree that the audience is being
fragmented and it’s important for public broadcasters to meet
the audience where it is, so things like podcasting and moving to
multiple platforms is the reality,” he says. “But the
need is to meet the audience across many platforms and not to give
up the broadcast platform.”
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