Excerpt Five: Infocomerciotainment

     We expect to be shouted at by advertisers to buy their products, to have them inflate their claims with hyperbole. But when the news media does the same thing, there is something unseemly about it, because the veneer between advertising and news is shown to be thin. Instead of a calm, authoritative news anchor telling us what stories are coming up, we get a dose of pitchman, trying to find the right mix of words and images to lure, threaten, or cajole us into watching. This is due in large part to increased competition among newsmagazines. And, as with any product or service, more competition means more selling and more advertising. News departments that once focused on content quality now must spend time and resources promoting themselves in a crowded marketplace.

     The power of the news format hasn’t been lost on advertisers. In the past few years Tylenol has run a series of ads that strongly resemble a news format. The ad campaign, Tylenol House Call, begins with what is ostensibly an informative segment on colds, flu, or other such malady. A typical ending line is, “Doctors recommend lots of fluids, rest, and, for the temporary relief of your symptoms… Tylenol.” The commercials give little hint of their purpose at the beginning, and look to the casual viewer like a public service announcement.

     Columnist Richard Reeves noted, “One of the great recent breakthroughs in the clouding of the American mind is the realization that if something looks like news, people perceive it as news. Now anchorpersons, interviews with ‘consultants,’…and all the techniques of network news are used to lend credibility to made-up tabloid television reports and publicity on the news and entertainment of the day.…”

     Occasionally, ads in newspapers and magazines will be formatted to look exactly like a news article, complete with a byline, city of origin, and headline. To keep readers from mistaking the ads for news, the publications frequently add a small notice that says “advertisement” above them. The advertiser’s intended effect is clear, to capitalize on the legitimacy and respected status of the news story.

     In one sense, entertainment and news have always commingled; news directors typically want more than just “hard” news stories. Audiences also want some human interest stories (“soft news”); and those almost by definition are geared more toward entertainment than news. An example would be a piece on the long lines at a local store waiting for the latest Harry Potter book. It’s mildly interesting (especially to Harry Potter fans), and good advertising for the book and store featured, but isn’t particularly important.

     Sports, as a form of entertainment, is rarely covered in national nightly news shows unless it involves larger issues, a hook that makes it newsworthy for reasons that go beyond the normal seasonal wins and losses. That’s why, for example, Mark McGwire, Sammy Sosa, and Tiger Woods all made national news. In the same vein, although “entertainment news” is presumably a legitimate category of news coverage, it is only occasionally seen on the nightly news.

     That void is filled by programs such as Entertainment Tonight, Inside Edition, and their ilk. They are where you tune in to hear the latest on Hollywood romances, see items for sale at Barbara Streisand’s garage sale, and other such important information. Every night Entertainment Tonight lauds itself in its tag line as the “most-watched entertainment news program in the world.” Though by now few people would mistake the eerily cheery Mary Hart for a real news anchor, the show borrows heavily from the network news format, and phrases such as “the latest news” and “coverage” are common.

     As Entertainment Weekly writer Ken Tucker noted, “Entertainment Tonight [ET] was never the New York Times of celebrity journalism, but at least it reported stories that informed its audience about what their favorite celebrities were doing. Now, however, ET too often reports on what they’re not doing. The July 10 [2000] broadcast, for example, was a paragon of non-news: A breathlessly hyped story about Britney Spears’ engagement to ‘N Sync’s Justin Timberlake? ET quotes a Britney spokesperson as saying it’s ‘completely untrue.’ Who’s going to play Harry Potter in the upcoming movie? ‘The decision could be announced later this week.’ ‘Rachel Hunter sets the record straight,’ we’re told, ‘about reports she had cancer.’ After a commercial, Hunter says she doesn’t have it. Again and again, spectres of scoops and scandals are espied, only to be denied. What’s the point?” Alas, this analysis applies much more broadly to television than Tucker realizes.

     Along with fluff fare like exclusive tours of Burt Reynolds’s bathrooms and Jay Leno’s motorcycles, the program frequently has “sneak peeks” and “first looks” at upcoming films, projects, and the like. Interviews with stars and directors, “preview” film footage (usually just the trailer), and behind-the-scenes information are featured. These segments are treated as (and called) news, though a moment’s thought will clarify their purpose: advertising. Just as film trailers are a blend of entertainment and advertising (though blatantly advertising), the purpose of such segments is to get the audience to see the film or buy the CD.

     What’s wrong with watching a star be interviewed about his or her new film? Nothing at all, except that the viewers are told they’re getting entertainment “news” when in fact they get mostly ads. Viewers who would indignantly object to watching a four-minute commercial on television will happily watch it on Entertainment Tonight, as long as it’s called “entertainment news.”

     Take, for example, a publication titled Journal of Longevity: Medical Research Reviews in Preventive Medicine Fields. A magazine with glossy covers, it features articles with titles such as “Male Sex Hormone Offers Three Keys to Longevity” and “Overcoming the Life-Threatening Risks of Cholesterol Drugs,” by people with M.D.s after their names. The journal even has a Letters to the Editor section and a table of contents. But all is not kosher in this scholarly medical journal.

     The first hint that something is amiss can be found in the business reply envelope stapled in the middle. The return address doesn’t list a reputable medical organization but instead Gero Vita Laboratories in Toronto, Canada. The articles use lots of impressive medical terms and jargon but, oddly, have no references. And in each “research review” of the latest medical literature, we find that the authors invariably recommend that the malady under discussion (high blood pressure, weight loss, varicose veins, etc.) can be alleviated or cured by a product from—Gero Vita Laboratories. The last sentence in each “article” leads readers to the convenient ordering form the inside back cover.

     The Journal of Longevity made national news in September 2001, when the Senate Special Committee on Aging held hearings into unscrupulous retailers who bilk Americans out of billions of dollars each year selling worthless dietary supplements. The supplements, targeted at the elderly, were touted as curing everything from memory loss to arthritis to impotence. Many of the ingredients are worthless, but some can actually harm those who take them. The Journal of Longevity is published by Almon Glenn Braswell, who owns a dozen supplement companies said to be worth over $200 million. In Senate testimony, former employees of Braswell’s accused him of knowingly promoting false claims about his products. Braswell was asked directly by the chairman of the Special Aging Committee, “Do you really use any of these products yourself?” Braswell managed a wry smile and asserted his Fifth Amendment right against self-incrimination. In 1983 Braswell was convicted on charges of mail fraud, perjury, and tax evasion, and at the time of the hearings he was under investigation on suspicion of money laundering and tax evasion.

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