The Limitations of Classroom Media: Ken Burns' Civil War Series as a Test Case

Americans usually watch TV to be entertained. But in the fall of 1990, a remarkable thing occurred. Some forty million American-by far the largest PBS viewing audience ever-tuned in to an eleven-hour, five-night history lesson-Ken Burns' The Civil War. Although gruesome photographs of battlefield carnage drove away a few, most viewers found themselves moved by the documentary's rich text, mesmerized by its haunting visuals, and charmed by its melancholy period music. For one week Ken Burns held court as master history teacher to a nation. In his nation-wide classroom, it was a rare student who squirmed restlessly or stole furtive glances at the clock. What explains Burns' success? The production was professional, to be sure. But the documentary never would have won the loyalty of such a mass viewing audience had the public doubted the accuracy of the production. Americans fell for the series because Burns seemed to have discovered a way to make the subject of history much more fascinating than it had ever been in secondary school without fabricating dialogue. It exudes accuracy with a wealth of Civil War photography (Burns tracked down 16,000 photographs from 150 archives to produce his series, according to one report) and relentless quotations from the original letters, diaries, and speeches of Civil War-era soldiers and civilians. Advance publicity, moreover, trumpeted that the series had been five years in production and that Burns had gone to unusual lengths to get things right. Then, too, the production seemed to carry the stamp of approval of the historical profession. Some of the most highly respected historians in the United States, including among others Don E. Fehrenbacher, James M. McPherson, and C. Vann Woodward, served as Burns' consultants and appeared through the film offering commentary at appropriate moments. But can Americans rely on their TV mentor? This is an important question not merely because Ken Burns introduced so many Americans to the meaning of the Civil War, but also because his class is still in session. Since the initial airing of the documentary, Burns and PBS have marketed the tapes with related instructional materials to schools and collegiate institutions across the nation. "Bring American history to life....An extensive Teacher's Manual, reproducible Student Handouts, and other materials help you immerse audiences in the historical event that `defined us' as a nation!," trumpets PBS Video's brochure. They have also blitzed the country with reruns, videotape releases, compact discs of the series' music, and an expensive book that is based upon the documentary.1 All this guarantees that future generations of students and citizens will be informed by Ken Burns' message. In other words, for a long time to come, America's Civil War may well be Ken Burns' Civil War. Although Burns' TV epic may well represent the finest film yet produced about the American Civil War, it has severe limitations as a teaching device. Burns' production probably conveys the pathos and ironies of the Civil War as effectively as it is possible to do on screen or in written narrative. But it is not accurate history. The documentary's narrated text, the glue that binds together Burns' cache of photographs, quotations, and music, is so seriously flawed that the credibility of the series is brought into question. Military historians have already fired damaging salvos at the series. It is more important, however, to understand the causes of war. Military technology, campaign strategy, and battlefield tactics though fascinating are far less revelatory than human motivation. A more critical objection may be raised, then, to the political interpretation that is woven throughout, and in particular to the first episode in which Burns and his consulting historians fashion an explanation of the causes of the war. However fascinating and inherently popular Civil War battles may be, America's "defining moment" will remain incomprehensible without a clear and nuanced description and analysis of the political and social milieu of the antebellum period. …