Static in Broadcasting

One day last year, the seven members of the Federal Communications Commission rolled up to the White House in an off-white station wagon just as CBS President Frank Stanton was getting out of his gleaming, chauffeured limousine. They had all been invited to witness the signing of the Public Broadcasting Act by President Johnson. But unlike the executives in the industry that they are supposed to oversee, neither FCC Chairman Rosel Hyde nor his colleagues had at their disposal a limousine or a driver.

Despite its apparent poverty, the FCC does have some legal authority over the men in the limousines--and occasionally exercises it. In a recent letter, the FCC sharply rebuked the National Broadcasting Company for not informing viewers that Chet Huntley had substantial cattle interests when he went on the air to criticize tough new federal rules on meat inspection. In another peremptory communication, the commission asked the three major networks--NBC, CBS and ABC--to respond within 20 days to "hundreds of complaints" of "bias" in their coverage of the Democratic National Convention in Chicago.

Considerable Power. The sounds were tough--but the reality was the opposite. The FCC is strapped not only for limousines but for the funds to hire an adequate staff. It is smothered in routine business and has little time for policing the industry--even if it wanted to. Moreover, the commission is subject to pressure from the President, who appoints its members, and from Congress, which appropriates its budget. Both the Administration and the Congressmen have many friends in the broadcasting business. Some members of Congress are in it themselves.

For all that, the FCC does have considerable power, however reluctant it is to wield it. A quasi-judicial body created by Congress, the commission issues and can revoke the licenses of all broadcasters. It can bring pressure against a station that does not grant equal time to political candidates. Under its "fairness doctrine," it tries generally to make sure that a station's programs provide a "broad spectrum of views." It can punish with fines or get a "cease and desist" order if a station does not comply with the specific rules.

In practice, the FCC rarely uses its licensing power to punish; renewals these days, as California Congressman John Moss recently pointed out, "are nearly as perfunctory as library-card renewals." And two weeks ago, the U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals in Chicago dealt a heavy setback to two important requirements dictated by the fairness doctrine. One of those requirements provided that any station broadcasting a "personal attack" on someone in an editorial or news documentary must notify that person and offer him time to reply. The other held that any station endorsing or opposing a political candidate must allow the other candidates to reply. In suits brought by CBS, NBC and the Radio Television News Directors Association, the court ruled both requirements unconstitutional as a violation of free speech and press guarantees--though it did not knock down the fairness doctrine itself.

In vain, the commission argued that although any number of newspapers may be published, broadcast frequencies are limited in number, and those licensed to use them could, if not regulated, offer the public only a narrow range of opinion. But the court insisted that both rules were not only too vague, but could inhibit stations from airing controversy. As for the argument that radio-TV might not offer enough diversity of opinion, the court added almost gratuitously: "In most major metropolitan areas there are several times as many radio and television stations as newspapers."

Dissenting Views. Disgusted at the FCC's unwillingness to play a more aggressive role, a few of the seven commissioners have begun voicing their dissenting views. Chief maverick is Nicholas Johnson, 34, a former law professor at the University of California, who argues: "We haven't got any plan, we have no goal, we have no idea of where American communications will be in 20 years." One commissioner, Robert Bartley, openly argues for the FCC's abolition and the division of its functions among three new agencies. "Let's burn down the old house with all its junk," says Bartley. "Let's start over again."

Would that be fair? The TV networks might not think so, especially if Bartley's idea is to create a new agency that would really get down to the job of regulating them.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.