When ABC’s Ted Koppel declared that there was no news at the Republican National Convention and went home, it immediately became the biggest news of the day, which showed that maybe he had a point.
But probably not much of a point. About halfway through the convention, the ABC “Nightline” host abruptly announced that the show was leaving and might not come to the Democratic convention in Chicago at all. His reason: There was no news; There was only a big infomercial for the political parties and he would have no truck with such media manipulation .
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“Nothing surprising has happened,” he said in a little on-air speech. “Nothing surprising is anticipated.”
Which raises an interesting point. If there are no “surprises,” no spontaneity, no risky podium time for the noisy extremists who actually believe what the platform says, is there no news?
Not quite. To say one is not going to attend a significant event simply because it is orchestrated and ritualistic is like saying you’re not going to attend a friend’s wedding because you know the in-laws don’t really care for each other and, besides, you know how it’s all going to turn out anyway.
Koppel was just one of many journalists and network executives who complained about the convention’s lack of spontaneity. What, I wonder, did they expect? Ever since television began covering conventions in the 1950s, they have become increasingly theatrical, statecraft as stagecraft, and vice versa. Increasingly, this is a job not so much for a political commentator as a theater critic.
Figure it out: There are more than 14,000 registered media personnel at this year’s conventions, which is about three-per-delegate. Is there any question as to who these conventions are really for?
But theater criticism is journalism, too. Maybe the news is the very theater that Koppel ridicules. If political conventions are theater, then the theater is the message. They should be covered the way a theater critic does: What kind of message do they try to present, do they present it, and was it worth presenting it in the first place?
When Bill Clinton’s operatives orchestrated the 1992 Democratic convention into a flawless feel-good TV show, after years of conventions in which Democrats seem to delight in showing the world their feuding and in-fighting, that was not only news, but also history of a very significant sort in the making.
To contrast the Republicans’ San Diego convention in 1996 with their Houston gathering in 1992 is to contrast the strident divisiveness of Pat Buchanan with the cool inclusiveness of Colin Powell. It is to contrast the high profile given to Pat Robertson and Alan Keyes, two leaders of the religious Right, in 1992 with the low profile given to them and other extremists in 1996.
The original purposes of party conventions, the nominating of national candidates, has diminished as nominees increasingly are decided in primaries. Yet, I think conventions continue to be an important part of America’s election process and, indelibly, a part of our national memory and culture.
They mark the official opening of the campaign, set the tone, arrange the stage, establish themes and focus issues. They are the national soapbox on which a political party and its candidates put their best message forward.
The rise in the early 1980s of CNN, C-Span and other alternative channels–even the Comedy Channel–has freed the major networks to offer less coverage and make more profits. At a time when NBC is eager to devote more airtime to “narratives” of Olympic athletes than to the coverage of Olympic athletics, the networks are impatient with puny news ratings that the new channels are delighted to receive.
I suspect conventions will survive the current summer of discontent, just as they have survived previous ones. They offer the parties a valuable chance to say their piece and they offer the media a valuable chance to question.
Besides, as long as they are held in August, usually the slowest news month of the year, their future is assured.