Anchors overboard? TV newscasts still need trusted, experienced journalists at the helm.
Potter, Deborah
And then there were none. That's how it felt when ABC's
Peter Jennings revealed in April that he has lung cancer. Despite his
desire to keep working while undergoing treatment, Jennings'
illness means that for the first time in more than 20 years he
won't be a nightly fixture on the network news. His absence,
following the departures of Tom Brokaw and Dan Rather, suggests that
we've come to the end of an era and the age of the anchor is
finally over.
[ILLUSTRATION OMITTED]
Don't you believe it.
As eras go, this one is still young. The term "anchor"
was used for the first time in a TV sense in 1952, when CBS producers
likened coverage of that year's political conventions to a relay
race and dubbed the host, Walter Cronkite, their anchorman. Most
Americans alive today have never known a time when network anchors were
not national icons.
In a world that has changed at a dizzying pace over the last half
century, these anchors have been surprisingly stable. NBC's Chet
Huntley and David Brinkley were dominant for more than a decade. In the
mid 1960s, Cronkite surpassed them as the audience favorite, and his
tenure at the top lasted even longer, until his retirement in 1981.
Along the way, he became known as the most trusted man in America, so
influential that he's credited with changing the course of history
with a single newscast. When he declared that the United States was
stalemated in Vietnam, Lyndon Johnson reportedly remarked, "If
I've lost Cronkite, I've lost middle America."
The anchors who followed in the 1980s--Jennings, Brokaw and
Rather--added the role of roving reporter to their news-reading duties
and traveled the world to cover the biggest stories. Sometimes they were
guilty of showboating; who can forget Rather dressed as "Gunga
Dan," crossing into Afghanistan? But when the anchors turned up on
the scene, from Berlin when the wall came down to Beijing when the tanks
rolled in, their very presence made an unmistakable point: What's
happening here really matters.
In times of national tragedy, network anchors mattered even more.
They knit us together, from the Kennedy assassination to the horrors of
September 11. "We are looked to for information," Brokaw said
after the 2001 terrorist attacks, "but also for empathy and
reassurance." Even as the audience splintered and shrank, turning
to cable or the Internet for daily information, the bond that millions
had formed with one anchor or another pulled them back to watch network
news when the world turned upside down.
The conventional wisdom is that those days are over. The
"voice of God" anchor, CBS Chairman Les Moonves has said, is a
relic of the past. Interim CBS anchor Bob Schieffer deliberately does
not come across as omniscient, and the network is giving its reporters
more airtime and face time to explain their stories.
But a funny thing has happened. The anchor has become even more
important, not less. Schieffer is the one who's getting rave
reviews for setting a comfortable tone and asking the kinds of questions
that viewers themselves want answered. At NBC, Brian Williams slipped
easily into the anchor chair after years of preparation on cable and
picked up where Brokaw left off, hitting the road in his first few
months on the job to cover the tsunami and the Pope's funeral. He
seems relaxed and in charge, and he's been able to keep "NBC
Nightly News" in first place in the ratings.
At both networks, the transition has gone more smoothly than might
have been expected based on past experience. When CBS named Rather,
instead of Roger Mudd, to succeed Cronkite, some critics said flash had
won out over substance, and the ratings temporarily dipped. When ABC
gave Jennings his first shot at the anchor chair in 1965, he seemed too
young and too green; he lasted less than three years. It took him 15
years to work his way back, after earning his stripes as a foreign
correspondent.
Ultimately, Jennings, Rather and Brokaw succeeded not because they
were good-looking and spoke clearly--Brokaw, remember, has a slight
speech defect--but because they were experienced, credible journalists
who connected with the audience.
There's much more competition for that audience now, and
network news desperately needs to change if it's going to endure
for the long term. But reinventing the newscast doesn't have to
mean throwing the anchor overboard. Even CNN, which once proclaimed
"the news is the star," quickly learned that people watch
people. As CNN President Jim Walton told the New York Times in 2003,
"I do believe it matters who a viewer allows into their
homes."
Viewers don't just need a well-coiffed TV maitre d' whose
only job is to introduce the specials on tonight's news menu. They
need a journalist who earns their trust every night, someone like, say,
a Schieffer or a Williams. Bob and Brian alone can't rescue network
news. But they're just the right kind of anchors to keep it from
drifting farther off course.
Deborah Potter (potter@newslab.org) is executive director of
NewsLab, a broadcast training and research center, and a former network
correspondent.