The Mass Media and Democracy: Between the Modern and the Postmodern

John Chancellor was upset. Impeccably groomed and spoken, this visual icon of virtually the entire history of television journalism could hardly contain his distress. Beneath his characteristically genial manner, his anger showed, as he lectured at Columbia University's Du Pont Forum on what went wrong in the 1992 U.S. presidential election. (1) The catalog took more than 30 minutes: The election was the worst in history, worse even than the monumentally smarmy campaign of 1988; one no longer needed to belong to a political party to run for president; talk show hosts displaced journalists; the public filled the air with silly questions on ersatz television debates and call-in radio programs; faxes, "800-numbers," computer bulletin boards, private satellite hook-ups and electronic mail had conspired with talk-show hosts Arsenio Hall and Rush Limbaugh, and interviewers Larry King and Tabitha Soren to evacuate the role of journalism from presidential politics. In sum, Chancellor asserted that network journalism had declined, and the new news of endlessly chattering masses cluttered the electronic highway with trivia. All good stories have a villain at the center, and this one was no exception: It had Ross Perot. Perot's electronic campaign circumvented party organization, presidential primaries and a national convention, as volunteers placed him on the ballot in state after state. Perot ignored local newspapers, radio and television and, in effect, told the national press that he could win without them -- or by running against them. Perot demonstrated it was possible to run with one's own money and avoid restrictions on federal matching funds. (2) He laid down new rules for presidential politics: Avoid specifics; stay away from journalists; hold as few press conferences as possible; stay away from the serious interview programs; and cultivate electronic populism by exploiting call-in radio. Who, after all, needs Sam Donaldson? Worse yet, who needs John Chancellor? Chancellor most of all mourned -- and who can blame him -- his own irrelevance and that of journalists like him. In his view, there was no one left to challenge the candidates, to hold their feet to the fire. The quality of campaigning was in decline because politicians had direct access to the public through media that offered neither threat nor intimidation. All this gave rise to the worst fear of the generation of journalists who had been affected by the Second World War: The new media had greased the highway of modern politics for demagogues and demagoguery. Chancellor had encountered the vampire of postmodern politics and found himself without a crucifix. This episode serves to remind the reader that the following consideration of the mass media and democracy -- which are always intertwined -- occurs at a particularly opaque historical juncture. Something is afoot in modem societies that seems peculiarly tied to the decline of certain media that have defined the context of communications and democracy since at least the end of the Second World War. The media have changed decisively in the last 20 years, both as technologies and institutions. Yet democracy has changed also; the ends of political life have been reconceived in recent years. There is a widespread demand for less pro forma political representation, whether by the press or elected officials, and for more real participation. Yet these changes only signal that the meanings of democracy and communication are historically variable. The meaning of democracy changes over time because forms of communication with which to conduct politics change. The meaning of communication also changes over time depending on the central impulses and aspirations of democratic politics. Neither communication nor democracy is a transcendent concept; they do not exist outside history. The meaning of these terms varies with available media and with whatever concrete notions of democracy happen to be popular at any particular time. …