Question of Responsibility

"It was the sponsored program [i. e. advertising] that saved broadcasting from extinction. The goodwill of the public can be gained through broadcasting only by giving the public what it wants to hear."--Merlin Hall Aylesworth, president of National Broadcasting Co.

". . . So to us it seems perfectly natural that advertising and not a license fee [as in England] should 'pay the freight' . . . when it comes to broadcasting."--William S. Paley, president of Columbia Broadcasting System.

Every evening, a half hour after Pepsodent's Amos 'n Andy sign off, Pepsodent's "Goldbergs" sign on. This program, a continued story of the fortunes of a middle-class Jewish family, was created for her own amusement by one Mrs. Gertrude Edelstein Berg of Manhattan. At the instance of friends she offered it to NBC, which took it as a sustaining feature in 1929. The part of Mother Goldberg was taken by Authoress Berg herself, who said it represented her grandmother. Last July Pepsodent adopted The Goldbergs as a secondary battery to supplement their Amos 'n Andy.

Last month Pepsodent announced that the program might be discontinued unless enough listeners wrote letters asking for its retention. (As an inducement, a beetle-ware tumbler was offered to every writer who sent in part of a Pepsodent carton.) Candidly Pepsodent admitted it wanted strong evidence that the expense of two nation-wide programs every night was justified. Last week Pepsodent announced that the returns warranted keeping "The" Goldbergs."

Last year TIME made its large-scale radio debut on Columbia Broadcasting System with a program every Friday evening, called "The March of Time," a half-hour's re-enactment of significant news stories of the week. The feature won instant popularity with a smaller audience than "The Goldbergs" and was often called "the only intelligent broadcast on the air." Last week it was announced that "The March of Time," having completed its pre-arranged schedule of presentations, would be discontinued, at least temporarily. Listeners were invited to write letters stating whether or not they desired "The March of Time" to be brought back to the air. (No beetle-ware tumblers were offered, since it is contrary to TIME'S policy to offer any inducements except its own merits.) The letters received last week were distinguished not by their volume, but by their insistence--in some cases indignant--that the program be retained for its educational value, its adult mentality. Typical: "Under no condition deprive the American public of the education and the pleasure. . . ."

"Its removal from the air would constitute an irreparable loss . . ."

"Would you force your listeners to a life of listening to toothpaste propaganda and vacuum-headed crooners?"

"I realize that TIME itself may dispense with this feature as an advertisement, but your radio audience can ill afford to lose such a delightful source of information."

Naturally gratifying to TIME, the letters constituted an indictment of Radio on a charge of failure-to-provide. That tens of thousands of listeners should protest so violently against the disappearance of any one commercial program as one of the few fit for adult consumption, was testimony to the leanness of Radio fare.

Had "The Goldbergs" been chloroformed, their followers would not have been long bereft. Radio could easily provide another continued story or comedy sketch to fill its place. Radio is a practiced handmaiden of entertainment. But when "The March of Time" ends, Radio has no substitute at hand. For all its blatant claim to being a medium for education, Radio contributes little of its own beyond the considerable service of bringing good music to the millions. (Yet radiomen sputter with rage when the Radio is called "just another musical instrument.")

Unlike a newspaper, which sells advertising in order to fulfill its prime function of giving news, the advertisement is Radio's prime offering. Also unlike a newspaper, which increases its pages along with any increase in advertising, Radio is restricted to the hours of the day. Of those hours it sells as many as it can. Naturally the evening hours, when most listeners are tuned in--the "front page" of radio--is virtually the property of the advertiser to do with as he pleases.

Not to be ignored are such creditable services as the current series of broadcasts from Geneva of interviews with League of Nations delegates. But they are notable exceptions that prove the rule. Other educational features sustained by Radio ("schools of the air" and the like) are broadcast in early daytime hours which are not in much demand either by advertisers or public.

TIME bought the series of half hours on CBS at $4,200 per period (plus $1,800 for actors, music, etc.) to perform a definite piece of advertising: to acquaint a larger public than its own logical readers with the existence of TIME, The Weekly Newsmagazine. (Theory: a magazine profits from general reputation.) In the opinion of TIME'S publishers the advertising purpose was well accomplished; further expenditure on radio at this time would not justify itself. Thus was raised a question of responsibility: Should TIME, or any other business, feel obliged to be the "philanthropist of the air," to continue paying for radio advertising it does not want in order to provide Radio with something worthwhile? Or is it up to the Radio Chains to improve the quality of broadcasts even at some reduction in their fat profits?

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