This collection of essays offers the reader a wide-ranging discussion of the possible, and the appropriate, involvement of the audience in shaping the content of entertainment and journalism. It is a fitting and useful update to Kathryn C. Montgomery's seminal work, Target: Prime Time: Advocacy Groups and the Struggle over Entertainment Television.1 Many essays, such as Michael Suman's "Interest Groups and Public Debate," contain a rich source of data and anecdote about individual advocacy groups and their activities. Together they represent a variety of opinions as well.

At one extreme there are the activists and moralists who seek to prevent, or at least minimize, what they see as the antisocial and immoral consequences of the media.

• Ted Baehr's piece, "How Church Advocacy Groups Fostered the Golden Age of Hollywood," and William Donohue's "A Catholic Look at the Entertainment Industry" provide us a history of the role of organized religion in this cause.

• Guy Aoki ("Strategies of the Media Action Network for Asian Americans") explains the need for, and tactics of, media advocacy from a racial, or ethnic, perspective.

• Carol Altieri ("Advocacy Groups Confront CBS: Problems or Opportunities?") offers a view from CBS's program practices department, as Al Schneider does in his revealing and useful history from inside ABC ("Dealing with Advocacy Groups at ABC").

• Mickey Gardner's call to arms against advocacy ("Public Policy Advocacy: Truant Independent Producers in a Federal City Fixated on a 'Values Agenda' ") carefully details, and candidly expresses, his frustration with any interference in the creative

process.

• Gabriel Rossman ("Hostile and Cooperative Advocacy") expressly recognizes, and analyzes, advocacy groups' use of both "cooperative" and "hostile" tactics. Rossman's analysis is consistent with Al Schneider's belief that "at times . . . advocacy group activities have played a role in promoting the rhetoric of passion and anger over the dialogue of reason."

• Lionel Chetwynd, less restrained, believes media advocates are "one of the most destructive forces in American life today: the self-assured, self-righteous, indignant scold" ("Television and Pressure Groups: Balancing the Bland"). Michael Suman agrees, and asserts the efforts of these "thin-skinned" critics who "believe that they alone know" how to manage media yield a "cautious, debate-quashing cultural climate."

I have represented the industry as a lawyer, regulated it as a Commissioner of the Federal Communications Commission, and worked in it as a host and editor (PBS's "New Tech Times," NPR commentaries). I have criticized the industry as an author (How to Talk Back to Your Television Set) and nationally syndicated columnist ("Communications Watch"), and tried to reform it (as Chair, National Citizens Committee for Broadcasting, which arguably produced one of the few periods of reductions in levels of televised violence). I now lecture and teach about it in law schools ("Law of Electronic Media") and elsewhere.

By design, I have no economic interest in these issues. I do not work for, represent, own stock in, or otherwise speak for any telecommunications, mass media, or related industry or company. That does not make me right. It just means that any misinformation or faulty analysis you find here is mine alone.

My bias, to the extent I have one, favors artistic freedom and diversity--while respecting the views of everyone in our democracy. I fought censorship as an FCC Commissioner (including my public attacks on the censorship efforts of President Nixon and Vice President Agnew). I have been associated ever since with Project Censored (which produces an annual "Ten Best Censored Stories") and many other organizations similarly inclined. I value my friendships within the creative community that I have had over the years.

That said, what sense can we make of the range of views represented by this book's authors?

For starters, there is a need to listen, carefully, to those with whom we disagree. We who value diversity, investigative journalism, artistic freedom, and creativity would better serve our cause by being more aware of how rare and recent is our view. That is not to say we are not right. It is only to say we are taking on thousands of years and hundreds of cultures,

Next to the biological preservation of our species, few drives are stronger than the desire to protect and perpetuate (and for some, even proselytize for) one's culture. Parents, as well as priests, feel strongly about their responsibility, as well as their right, to socialize their tribe's next generation according to the values of the last. Early twentieth-century "country folk" resisted their children's attraction to "evil city ways." The Amish even turn their backs on

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agricultural modernity--thereby avoiding such concerns as "Y2K"! Indigenous peoples around the world (including our own Native Americans) struggle to hold, and pass on, ancient customs. This desire extends throughout all socioeconomic classes. Some families place a very high value on children practicing, and marrying within, the family's religious faith. Others are equally insistent on their children preparing for designated professions through attendance at particular prep schools and colleges. Tradition!

It was not, after all, very long ago in human history that any heretical deviation from the dominant church's theology was considered to be blasphemy--a crime. (Indeed, heresy, used as a pejorative, is derived from the Greek word hairesis, meaning "to choose for oneself. " So much for individual creativity!) Severe punishments, including painful death, were among the risks assumed by those who deviated from the politically correct views of the religious right of those times. Criticism of government officials was punishable as sedition. Much like with broadcasting licenses in early 20th century America, only loyal and trustworthy printers were granted the licenses necessary to engage in the mass media of their day.

But before we engage in a unanimous sigh of relief over the fact that we are no longer living in such times, reflect for a moment on the extent to which we still are. From baby radio's first squawking cries, most countries assumed, with little or no debate, that radio would be, as a matter of course, under the exclusive control of public corporations or the government. (Turning ours over to the Navy was a serious early option.) Not only was it unthinkable (in the literal sense) to permit radio's commercial exploitation, all countries assumed that any force with this much potential for shaping society required some form of societal responsibility and control.

Nor are these concerns merely matters of history, however recent. The kinds of political and artistic freedoms we take for granted are unknown in many countries in the world even today. How many of the world's six billion citizens have the opportunity to subject their leaders to the kind of media assault President Clinton endured during the Monica Lewinsky scandal (or, for that matter, throughout his entire presidency)? How many would permit, as we do, everything from defamatory political commentary to embarrassing ridicule by stand-up comedians? By contrast, in how many countries would the perpetrators quickly find themselves confronting the kinds of punishments meted out in merry old England?

There is still a near-universal resistance to cultural forces from outside one's "tribe"--whether racial, religious, ethnic, or other community. But the cultural control formerly (and, to some extent, still today) exercised by kings and tyrants has, in democracies, been passed to the body politic.

There has been a three-dimensional explosion in the spread of democracy--that is, a presumed right of "the people," and each individual, to influence, if not control, the things that matter in one's life. The three dimensions are:

1. Persons. Voting in America was originally limited to white, male landowners over 21 years of age. It was gradually expanded to include non-landowners, African

Americans and other racial minorities, women, and persons between 18 and 21.

2. Places. Whether you associate democracy with ancient Athens or modem America, it is clearly continuing to expand its geographic reach over time.

3. Realms of Life. Originally limited to "government," the principles of democracy have been extended to people in many other areas of life--from family members to a corporation's shareholders, from a union's rank and file to a student council.

"Dilbert" notwithstanding, distributive decision making, rewards for suggestions, protections for "whistle-blowers," and innumerable legislative protections have even brought a measure of worker participation to private corporations. Although libertarians and conservatives may take a different view of the matter, for the most part Americans also accept the notion of public ownership--with its attendant democratic control--of highways, schools, libraries, and parks.

This is not a diversion from our subject. I mention these trends because we are living at a time, and in a country, in which Americans assume that "things that matter"-- from the street light on our corner to the curriculum taught by our child's third-grade teacher--should reflect, at least to some degree, their own concerns and desires. Which brings us to the entertainment media. For among the "things that matter" few, if any, matter more than the media.

As Bernard Cohen has observed, even if television doesn't tell us what to think, it certainly tells us what to think about.2 We see its influence in speech patterns, hair and clothing styles, and, as the advertising industry persuades manufacturers, buying patterns. Teachers report the shortened attention span of students from kindergarten on--not to mention the problems television helps create for teenage girls, poignantly described in Mary Bray Pipher's Reviving Ophelia. Public health officials bemoan television-induced obesity in children and a variety of self-induced illnesses and diseases in their parents. Others are concerned about stereotyping (for example, of race, gender, or age), declining moral values, and crime and violence.

Al Schneider ("Dealing with Advocacy Groups at ABC") acknowledges that "[t]elevision does offer role models and influence people's understandings." He sees "its impact on society." However, he also believes that "television should not be held responsible for solving all of society's social problems."

Given television's influence and consequences, the remarkable fact is not that there are advocacy groups (and individuals) in our democracy that want to reform the mass media. The wonder is why there are not more of them. (When building media reform coalitions, I used to insist to other organizations' leaders, "Regardless of what your first priority may be, your second priority simply has

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to be media reform.")

Thomas Streeter ("What Is an Advocacy Group, Anyway?") recognizes the importance of democratic pressure. He says, "It's not wildly idealistic to envision a society in which the organization of the media is a matter subject to full, open, public debate. . . . [T]here is genuine popular enthusiasm for democratic control of media organization."

When a high school class picks a band for a dance or a church selects a soloist (or minister), there may or may not be "artistic freedom" for the performer, but there is tribal control. So long as artistic creativity, performance, or publication takes place within the tribe, it creates no inter-tribal conflict or stress. The tribe, through whatever its formal or informal governing mechanisms may be, will have a measure of consensus about the acceptability of its artists. The "tribal marketplace" really is an adequate regulatory tool.

In short, "media" are not the problem. It is the "mass" in "mass media" that creates the conflict; it is the invasion of formerly inviolate tribal territory that causes the problem. When a sound truck can be heard throughout a community, a television station's programming reaches a region, a satellite's "footprint" covers a continent, tribal control is lost.

It is a problem illustrated by the dilemma Carol Altieri ("Advocacy Groups Confront CBS: Problems or Opportunities?") describes as existing within CBS. It is somewhere between very difficult and virtually impossible to create mass programming that simultaneously passes muster with every sensitive tribal minority and is still of sufficient interest to a mass audience to make it economically viable. At best, it leaves the creative participants with what Eric Severeid once described (from the perspective of a television journalist) as the sensation of being eaten by ducks.

And Michael Curtin's thoughtful portrayal of the evolution from a three-network economy to a marketplace of multiple-channel cable and satellite distribution systems ("Gatekeeping in the Neo-Network Era") does not necessarily support his assertion that television today serves "niche marketing." However many channels there may be--and notwithstanding his examples of "Ellen' ' and "TV Nation"--tribes are still, for the most part, left unserved (not to mention powerless) with programming that may, literally, be reruns of old network programs (or programs modeled on them).

Though tribal control may be lost, the desire for it is not. Just as it is true that "you have not converted a man because you have silenced him,"3 neither can you convert by cacophony.

A broadcaster once told me, "You're not paranoid, Nick, you've got real enemies." Similarly, today's tribal spokespersons, such as Ted Baehr, are right: their values really are being challenged by television. William Donohue supplies the details in "A Catholic Look at the Entertainment Industry." Traditional Catholics' values, traditions, and culture--as well as those of other religious persons--are being eroded by mass media.

The content of mass media cannot be value neutral.

• Carol Altieri ("Advocacy Groups Confront CBS: Problems or Opportunities?") tells us how she and her department "advise producers of how we want them to treat

cigarette smoking."4

• Michael Curtin ("Gatekeeping in the Neo-Network Era") quotes, with seeming agreement, John Leonard's belief that television is "pro-gun control and anti-death penalty . . . alert to child abuse, spouse-battering, alcoholism, . . . [and] medical malpractice . . . and celebrate[s] the integration of the races."

No, the point--scarcely controversial by now--is simply that mass media do, necessarily, tend to reflect the conscious and unconscious values and interests of their creators and owners.

It is not clear whether Mickey Gardner means to challenge this assertion or not ("Public Policy Advocacy: Truant Independent Producers in a Federal City Fixated on a 'Values Agenda' "). If not, his attack on a "values agenda" is very narrowly targeted. He is clearly opposed to the nation's "values" being affected in any way by democratically elected representatives. On the other hand, there is no indication that he finds troublesome the "values agenda" of nonelected, corporate executives being foisted upon the American audience.

Are there exceptions to the mass media reflecting the values and interests of the people behind the media?

• Michael Curtin contrasts Murdoch's censorship (not too harsh a word) of Chris Patten's Hong Kong memoirs to serve Murdoch's corporate interests in China with other corporations' release of such films as "Seven Years in Tibet," "Kundun," and "Red Corner"--presumably equally harmful to their future corporate profits in China.

• And, of course, the drumbeat of conservative criticism of the "liberal media" continues. Lionel Chetwynd ("Television and Pressure Groups: Balancing the Bland"), speaking of the entertainment industry, asserts as a given that there is a "liberal bias in the industry." So here we have an industry controlled by large corporations airing "liberal" messages that might seem to run counter to their interests.

Curtin says he is "not convinced that ownership of a media conglomerate provides centralized control." With respect I disagree. Even Mickey Gardner--for the most part "proindustry"--believes that "the media consolidation and increased vertical integration . . . raise the serious prospect of diminished program diversity." And consider Al Schneider's story ("Dealing with Advocacy Groups at ABC") regarding the influence of the ABC president's wife, Isabelle Goldenson. Michael Suman ("Interest Groups and Public Debate") agrees: "concentration of media ownership also points to less diversity of

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opinion."

There may be exceptions (before someone is fired); there may be a corporate decision that, for this time and place, the appearance of openness to self-criticism and diversity, or of editorial boldness, is of greater value than short-term profit (or avoidance of loss). But it is clear that--however management may choose to define it--maximizing the global media conglomerate's corporate profit ultimately will be what drives content decisions. As Michael Suman has observed, "What most determines what ends up on television is the bottom line."

Unfortunately, bottom lines do not always respond to highest values. Consider Gabriel Rossman's interview of William Horn, speaking for the gay and lesbian organization GLAAD (and Al Schneider's report of ABC's response to gay and lesbian pressure). They review the history, and continuing need, for such an organization. Why is it still needed? Because a producer who is on the fence about the treatment of a fictional homosexual in a script written in West Los Angeles may end up affecting the treatment of an actual homosexual on the fence in the Wild West of Wyoming.

It is not enough to remind such a victim (if they are still alive) that the television set has an "on-off 'switch, that an individual does not have to watch a program she finds distasteful, that parents should control their children's television diet. John Prine once wrote a song advising us to "blow up your TV." But even those who accept his counsel continue to live in a televised society in which most of their fellow citizens' experiences and beliefs have been, at least to some extent, mediated. In short, even if Congress had not put the phrase into the Communications Act of 1934, there is, inherently, a "public interest" in the content, and consequences, of our entertainment industries' products.

Of course, even if describing a problem is a good beginning, it does not constitute a solution. How can we balance these seemingly irreconcilable drives of (a) tribal integrity, (b) artistic freedom in the mass media, and (c) global multimedia conglomerates' need to profit maximize? With great difficulty.

Let me review some of the approaches discussed by this book's authors and utilized over the past 30 or 40 years.

GOVERNMENT REGULATION

Whatever may have been the wisdom, integrity, and possibility of government regulation of program content when the three networks' affiliates were "television" for most viewers, such regulation is no longer possible today.

Rex Heinke and Michelle Tremain ("Influencing Media Content Through the Legal System: A Less Than Perfect Solution for Advocacy Groups") have done a thorough job of laying out the history, law, and reasons why. They conclude that "the courts are an increasingly inhospitable place to address the concerns of those wishing to change the way the world views them." So I will just add a few words of my own.

There are administrative as well as legal hurdles to government regulation of 500 channels (what Michael Curtin calls "a blizzard of options"). In the 1960's "the networks"--which were not after all, "licensed broadcasters"--were

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regulated by the FCC by virtue of (a) the network "owned-and-operated" stations (which were, of course, licensed) and (b) the legal two-step of regulating the contract terms entered into by station licensees. This is not to say that a rationale could not be found, perhaps, for governmental regulation of, say, ESPN or the Comedy Channel. It is only to say that a program supplier is not, per se, a "broadcaster" required to be licensed under the terms of the 1934 Communications Act.

Law, wisdom, and ideology aside, the prospect of an FCC trying to regulate program content in a 500-channel world strikes me as an administrative nightmare--if not, indeed, an impossibility.

And we have, so far, assumed that what we are talking about is "television"--albeit a form of video entertainment that may come to us from the Internet, telephone company, communications satellite, coaxial cable, or optic fiber, rather than conventional over-the-air broadcast. But "convergence" is more than a buzzword. Video is, today, not only a commercial import to our television screens in real time. It may be a rented (or owned) videotape--or output from our own video camera. It may come from a CD-ROM or DVD disk--or off the Internet. Indeed, video distribution via the Internet may, someday, render obsolete much of what we write here today, navigating as we are by a rearview mirror focused on our experience and expectations regarding "television" and "cable." It is already possible to watch regular cable television on our computer screens (not to mention the video clips we can download from the Web). To complete the circle, we can also, if we wish, get a device to view our Web surfing on our conventional television screen. And all of this can be miniaturized into shirt-pocket or wristwatch-sized devices--or wall-sized screens in home entertainment centers.

We will not even begin here to describe the additional range of games and other entertainment played and viewed on independent devices, or television screens, or stand-alone computers--and those involving Internet-connected players. When one considers the full range of what would need to be "regulated" in order to minimize the adverse effects of the media, most broadly defined, regulation becomes an even more impossible task.

Finally, it is not clear why the FCC would bring any more enthusiasm to this task than it has to any past issue involving a conflict of public and corporate interests.

As a part of an overall strategy media reform advocates will want to continue to include letters, proposed regulations and legislation, and litigation. The example of Peggy Charren's accomplishments with Action for Children's Television is reason enough to fight on. Decades after "deregulation" there are still some regulations, and public-minded officials, in place. Using them may at least attract the attention of industry management (and possibly journalists) in ways that may promote reform.

But these tactics alone are unlikely to be adequate.

BOYCOTTS

Robert Pekurny's piece ("Advocacy Groups in the Age of Audience

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Fragmentation: Thoughts on a New Strategy") paints a pretty gloomy picture of the utility of boycotts. I will not repeat his arguments here, most of which I find persuasive. (But see Al Schneider's description, from within ABC, of the impact of advertiser pressure.)

My own experience in the 1970s, however, with the National Citizens Commiittee for Broadcasting, was that: (a) monitoring programs for levels of violence, as defined by Dr. George Gerbner, (b) matching the most violent programs with their advertisers, and then (c) announcing to the world the nation's "ten bloodiest corporations" did have an impact on corporate management, the corporations' advertising agencies, and, ultimately, the studios, networks, and producers. The levels of violence in the programs they televised did decline.

Even if the boycott, as such, has relatively little effect on revenues, the publicity it engenders may move a public-relations-sensitive executive to action--and also help an organization build membership.

Toward the end of Michael Curtin's piece ("Gatekeeping in the Neo-Network Era"), Curtin offers an innovative approach to what might be called a "reverse boycott" that any media reformer would do well to ponder.

PICKETING, STREET THEATER, AND OTHER CREATIVE CHANGE STRATEGIES

It is not necessary or appropriate to review here all the techniques developed over the years by community organizers and social change artists. There is a body of literature on the subject. The range is limited only by one's imagination, experience, talent, courage, and budget. If properly conceived and executed there is no reason to suspect such strategies could not have an impact in any age.

LETTER WRITING

It is true that postal rates continue to climb. But they still have a long way to go before reaching the levels of many corporations' multimillion-dollar budgets for advertising, public relations, and lobbying. So long as you do not expect too much from a letter, envelope, and stamp, the time and money spent can have a disproportionate impact. If your e-mail is free, and your recipient can receive it, the benefit-cost ratio of this avenue is even more favorable. At a minimum, most recipients at least keep a tally, and occasionally an individual letter is read and moves an executive to action. More extensive letter-writing campaigns, like any other technique, will benefit from strategic thought and planning.

MEETINGS AND CONFERENCES

For those with the necessary ability, money, time, and access, the kinds of individual meetings with writers and producers described by Robert Pekamy ("Advocacy Groups in the Age of Audience Fragmentation: Thoughts on a New Strategy") can, of course, be most effective.

If it is possible for individuals with a common interest to find each other and

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organize, they may be able to afford to have their own "ambassador to Hollywood." As a practical matter, however, such personal contact is not a realistic option for most members of the television audience.

Certainly Pekurny's suggestion of positive re-enforcement and awards cannot do any harm. This conclusion can also be drawn from Gabriel Rossman's analysis of "cooperative" tactics ("Hostile and Cooperative Advocacy").

For what it is worth, over the course of my lifetime, to the best of my recollection, I have always begun with the cooperative approach in all of the dozens of situations in which I have found myself responsible for trying to effect change. It is my favorite strategy. It is sensible. It saves time, effort, stress, and money, and is an all-around more civilized way to proceed. Sadly, however, I have all too often found myself confronting administrators and adversaries on the other side of the table with whom cooperative strategies simply do not work.

It has been said that a successful administrator "needs gray hair so as to look wise and hemorrhoids so as to look concerned." But all too many show evidence of neither. They may display arrogance or avoidance, complacency or control, defensiveness or duplicity, elusiveness or evasiveness, feigning or fear, ignorance or indecisiveness--or all of the above. They may be manipulative and myopic, resistant and repressive--need I complete this alphabetical list? Maybe you have encountered one or two such individuals yourself. So many are simply unwilling to try the administrative strategies of cooperation, fairness, inclusion, justice, openness, and responsiveness.

In fairness, it may well be that this is simply their reaction to being consistently overworked, the target of irrational and hurtful criticism, and repeatedly disappointed by the individuals they have treated with kindness, reason, and trust. Whatever the case, my suspicion is that a good many of the organizations Rossman describes as using the tactics of "hostility" may, like I, not be using them as a matter of first and favored choice. It is just that having tried the cooperative approach with such people, one soon--however reluctantly--comes to the conclusion that the only ways to bring about change with them are boycotts, lawsuits, legislation, regulation, shareholder actions, and embarrassing media attention.

ORGANIZATIONS

Although relatively obvious, it should perhaps be mentioned that the successful impact of many to most of the activities just described require (or will at least substantially benefit from) organizations of one kind or another. Peggy Charren has offered us some very useful "Principles for Effective Advocacy from the Founder of Action for Children's Television." And note that an "organization" can gather leverage from coalition efforts as much as, if not more than, from its own "members."

When I chaired the National Citizens Committee for Broadcasting (NCCB) in the 1970s we were successful in getting the television networks to reduce levels of violence in entertainment programming. We used direct mail to build a membership base and fund our activities. But I always found that my influence with Congress increased substantially when I could walk into a congressional

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hearing room with "the other NCCB" (National Conference of Catholic Bishops) on one arm and the AFL-CIO on the other.

It is not just a matter of the "numbers" of persons affiliated with the organizations. In my experience the more broadly representative a coalition is (for example, in terms of politics, socioeconomic class, ideology, gender, or race/ethnicity), the more it will be listened to.

EDUCATION

Given the proliferation of available media, described above, I sometimes think the only truly effective, long-term strategy is education--as Michael Curtin ("Gatekeeping in the Neo-Network Era") puts it, "to help citizens make sense of the options available to them." If it is important that increasing numbers of audience members eschew the trivial and the tawdry, and prefer the virtuous to violence, developing individuals with the education and inclination to do so voluntarily may be the last best hope.

Is this a perfect solution? Of course not. One might as well try to educate the fish in the sea about the virtues of life on a dry land they have never seen and cannot survive. Changing attitudes and tastes about the mediated environment through which we swim, while we are swimming in it, is kind of like trying to change a flat tire on a moving car. But if it could be done it would provide a solution that would have the virtue of elevating media taste and utility while maintaining, indeed enhancing, the individual freedom of creators and audience alike.

So, what else might we do?

A NEW MODEL

There is no magic solution. As described above--indeed, throughout this book--the best strategy is multiple strategies. But there is an additional idea I would like to throw into the mix--not as an alternative, but as a supplement: an organization to which individuals and organizations can take their complaints about the media.

The Hutchins Commission, and others over the years, have proposed something analogous called a "News Council" for complaints about newspapers. Where tried (Minnesota at one point) it has had mixed success. Similarly, Great Britain has the Broadcast Standards Commission.

There is enough to this idea that we ought to consider it for the entertainment industry. It is a way of turning down the volume on the sort of behavior that Gabriel Rossman ("Hostile and Cooperative Advocacy") describes as "hostile" strategies and which Michael Suman ("Interest Groups and Public Debate") fears will produce self-censorship. It is an effort to balance respect for tribes with creative freedom.

It does that for starters, by avoiding the use of "government"--of great concern to Mickey Gardner ("Public Policy Advocacy: Truant Independent Producers in a Federal City Fixated on a 'Values Agenda' ") and others. It also avoids funding, and control, by "the industry." It might be funded, for example,

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by one of our nation's public-spirited and well-endowed foundations.

The "council" and its supporting staff would be made up, presumably, of "the good, the true, and the gray"--that is to say, prominent individuals who have not been identified with, and are not perceived to be, spokespersons either for the industry or media advocacy groups. Indeed, they would be chosen as individuals, not as representatives of any organization. Of course, they should represent, to the extent possible, the demographics of America. To relieve the creative community's anxieties the organization would have no legal or other power to enforce its will.

Once adequately promoted by the news media, so that the audience knew it existed, the council could perform the role of an entertainment industry ombudsperson. That is, it would be the place that critics of the entertainment industry could go with their letters, e-mail, phone calls, and surveys. Academics could contribute relevant research. Sometimes the council would simply count letters--not unlike what networks have always done. At other times it might request (not demand) a visit with a studio or network executive, producer, or writer. With proper funding, it could also do surveys and other research. When complaints warrant it, the council could make an effort at fact finding (without any right of subpoena) and issue such reports as it deems useful and appropriate. Its impact on the industry, however, would rest solely on the persuasiveness of the data, the reasoning in its reports, and the news media's willingness to cover their activities.

Some of our authors have described the lengths to which industry representatives now go to gather public input. Norman Lear had an assistant who functioned as, in effect, an ambassador to the outside world of various special interests. The producers of "Prince of Egypt" consulted with hundreds of representatives of various religions. Properly perceived, the council--although not controlled by the industry--could serve the creative community in constructive ways as well. It could provide, in a totally unbiased and nonideological way, a type of public input that the industry appears to seek anyway. Moreover, it could organize that input, put it in context, and make sense out of it. It could help the industry avoid dealing with what Lionel Chetwynd ("Television and Pressure Groups: Balancing the Bland") characterizes as "every group of three people or more who think they know best"--while giving voice to the three people who do. More importantly, it would provide some opportunity for democratic input--although not control--by an audience that often feels marginalized, trivialized, and helpless in dealing with global media conglomerates.

Media can be "pushed" or "pulled." Conventional television and radio programming is "pushed"--that is, made available, as broadcast, when a receiver is timed to the station. Books, videotapes, and the results of Internet search engine research are "pulled"--that is, they are brought into our lives, and consciousness, because we have selected them, at the moment we want them. To the extent that future technology, and media education, turn our mediated lives into a media economy that is increasingly "pull" rather than "push," the demand for audience control will diminish proportionately. Until that happens, however, the struggle between artist and audience, democratic control and artistic

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freedom, will continue.

1.  Kathryn C. Montgomery, Target: Prime Time: Advocacy Groups and the Struggle over Entertainment Television (Oxford University Press, 1990, paper ed.).

2.    Bernard Cohen, The Press and Foreign Policy (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1963), p.13.

3.    Morley, John Morley, viscount, "On Compromise" (1874).

4.   Although, I might note, my own nonscientific impression is that there is a lot more unnecessary product placement of tobacco in TV and film entertainment than there used to be.

5.     Northern Sun Advertising.