|
Media Matters
Jan. 6, 2003
'What's Happened to NPR?' - Enquiring Minds Want to Know
By Jeffrey A. Dvorkin
Ombudsman
National Public Radio
Two recent events on NPR have had listeners asking out loud (and to the Ombudsman), "What is going on over there"?
First, there was the five-part radio serial/comedy, I'd Rather Eat Pants, which played on Morning Edition prior to Christmas.
'Pants' Panned: Plays Poorly in Press
The critics (and there were hundreds) were not -- shall we say, kind.
"I couldn't get to the radio fast enough to change the station."
-Joyce Melbinger
"How could you stoop so low? It was a BIG disappointment."
-Rex Paul Martin
"Let me impart something to you that I have found to be true over the years which you so aptly confirmed for me. Don't go to a mechanic for medical advice, don't expect honesty from a carney, don't try to squeeze blood from a turnip and don't go to public radio or TV for comedy. That sketch you did last week was painfully bad."
-Doug Hayes
While most of the people who wrote found the series to be remarkably unfunny, there was a minority of fans who loved it:
"I think that those people who objected to the show must be those born into the television era. There is little left to the imagination in a television show. I want to thank you for the series, and hope for more in the future."
-Harold Millstein
"I would first like to say that the lead actors, Anne Meara and Ed Asner, did an excellent job and it was a nice departure from the usual news/humorous commentaries... Thank you for continuing to try new things at NPR, it's always interesting, whatever you bring."
-Kelly Burnett
A Good Try
I agree with Ms. Burnett. It was a good try and NPR should not be dissuaded from trying again. Radio comedy (I'm told by those who really know) is a very difficult art. Like other writing for radio, comedy requires more deliberate pacing and like its sibling -- radio drama -- it has to involve a certain engagement of the listeners' imagination in order to have that willing suspension of disbelief.
Comedy is something that radio can do well -- especially late on Fridays and on the weekend. That's when the listeners may be more receptive to a laugh, as the pressures of the work week recede. Morning Edition has a well-deserved reputation, established over many years as being one of NPR's programs of record. Morning Edition's listeners have expectations of weighty matters. They are willing (I believe) to accept witty matters as well, provided that they believe they aren't being denied the "more important" events.
Pants was an interesting attempt, but in my opinion, would have worked better (aka, funnier) in a re-written and more radio-friendly form and certainly as a Friday or weekend segment.
As Morning Edition's Executive Producer Ellen McDonnell wrote to many listeners:
"Clearly our holiday gift to listeners was not a tasty treat for you. We wanted to give listeners a respite from racism, war and pedophilia as they approached the holiday season. Sorry it didn't work for you. Stay with us."
'They're He-e-e-re'
The other event that drove many listeners to question NPR's sanity was the coverage of the Raelian claims of the first cloned human baby. The Raelians are, in case you missed it, a cult that originated in France in the 1970s. Their leader is Claude Vorhilon, a former racing car driver who believes that all human life came from aliens who visited Earth and began the human race. Vorhilon even says he has met with French-speaking aliens. The group has established communities in France, Canada and in Japan, with a few now based in the United States.
The Raelians' story is undoubtedly goofy, but they have attracted 40,000 followers (so they claim). When the Raelians called a news conference the day after Christmas, to announce (without proof) they had cloned a human being, the timing could not have been better. Dozens of copy-starved journalists (NPR's Joe Palca among them) showed up at the hotel north of Miami for the announcement.
Some listeners expressed astonishment that NPR would give these people any airtime:
"Your coverage of the Raelian clone reminded me of the Elvis sightings in the publications at the supermarket checkout stands. I contribute to NPR because I believe you are a rare commodity -- balanced, intelligent, informative news. The coverage of this ridiculous sect and their unsubstantiated claims was uninformative and misleading."
-Richard Perry
"Please, please, I beg you, stop broadcasting... about the cloning by the Raelians. So far, this is just another claim made by some company and some religious group. Until (they) corroborate their claim with some actual evidence that can be verified by a disinterested third party, public radio should show some control and not jump on the media-hype bandwagon. I feel like I'm listening to CNN."
-Neil Mansilla
Making Sense Out of Nonsense
But in my opinion, NPR's reporting on the claims of the Raelians was particularly good. It was just the sort of contextual journalism that NPR does well. Joe Palca reported on the dubiousness of the scientific claims. His conversations with Ira Flatow on Science Friday deflated the claims in the best rationalist tradition of American reporting. One could almost hear his eyebrows arching with skepticism.
It would have been easy for journalists to be humorously dismissive of the Raelians who tend to waft around France in their white robes and their vacant stares (Descartes must be spinning...). But NPR took the story (if not the group) seriously and as such, provided listeners with valuable insights into the Raelians' cultish claims while re-emphasizing the hard science of cloning.
Additionally helpful would be a story on why France -- the birthplace of rationalism -- seems to generate, and to be home to, so many of these groups.
The Raelians have a lot of media savvy. They knew that calling a news conference between Christmas and New Years guaranteed ink and airtime. But will NPR give equivalent access to the next cult that makes similarly incredible claims? Enquiring minds can hardly wait...
Listeners may contact me at 202-513-3246 or at ombudsman@npr.org.
Jeffrey Dvorkin
NPR Ombudsman
|
