All The News That's Fit
Getting the Actual News
By Charles E. Kraus
Back in the early 1970s, Blacks rarely made it into the papers. If "they" did, it was because "they" had been accused of committing a crime or hitting a home run. Likewise, New York City's vibrant Puerto Rican community was a no show in the mainstream press. Basically, "minorities" were not considered news worthy. Environmental alarmists rated a few inches of copy towards the back of the paper. Gays didn't exist.
What was news worthy? At the time, my journalism professor told us it was whatever the editor declared affected the day.
Advance about fifty years.
Breaking news. Just in.
If you watch the cable versions of current events, you are familiar with these or similar enticers. "Hold on, this just in from the The Wall Street Journal or The Washington Post," the anchor tells us. What he's about to say is obviously monumental. Or not. Generally not. We interrupt our regularly scheduled newscast to bring you the news. One of the requisite skills for modern newscasting is the ability to hyperventilate on cue.
In the early days of television news, broadcasters such as Murrow, Sevareid, and Cronkite, were serious men relaying serious information. They didn't emote. David Brinkley could be droll, but he was off-set by his co-anchor, Chet Huntley, a guy so somber you assumed his funny bone had been removed by highly component surgeons.
This was long before the internet, or even cable television. If your antenna was properly aligned, your television could pick up invisible high frequency signals and convert them into TV programs. Phones were used exclusively to move conversations from point A to point B and back via wires strung up there on the poles, with more lines branching off toward your house, into the walls, and ultimately directly to your telephone. Prior to the internet, when you employed the term "screen" you were generally referring to the mesh window protectors that kept bugs from visiting your apartment.
Television news had pretty much replaced radio news, and though many cities had one or two papers (New York City had seven), it was obvious that if you wanted the most up-to-the-minute information, less details than print media could provide, but more immediacy, you found it on the idiot box.
Should you wish to see the news but happen to be away from home, residing in a college dorm, participating in the military experience, or just out and about, you gathered around a set that had been supplied for public viewing. In a television lounge, a bar, student union or convenient cafe. You sat next to colleagues, friends or strangers, watching one of the three major six p.m. newscasts. These wised you up to the events of the day. There were no 'all news all the time' sources. On especially big news days, a paper might publish several editions with updated information about important stories. Momentous events like a moon landing, JFK's abrupt demise, Watergate -- meant the television remained on offering viewers extended reports. Watergate was the first time that many folks watched public broadcasting. It provided gavel to gavel impeachment coverage.
Comes now. Not three main news feeds. Not broadcasting. Narrowcasting. Rightwing TV, leftwing TV, religious slants, regional slants, Spanish, subtitled, superficial and/or in-depth analysis. Facebook, Apple News, Yahoo News, Google News, RT, One America, to name a few available feeds.
I repeat my question: What is the news?
Answer: It's still whatever the editor declared relevant.
Only difference is, now you are the editor.
