Our political system is a duopoly; only two parties call the shots. It will likely stay that way, because vested interests so desire.
A principal interest is the “money-and-media election complex.” As media coverage of elections wanes, increasing revenues flow into the coffers of mostly television stations and networks.
One acquaintance we know who was running for governor of a Midwest state as a Democrat in a general election complained to a TV station manager that his campaign was not getting any news coverage. “You want to get on the air?” the broadcaster replied. “Buy an ad.” Whether intentional or not, commercial broadcasters have little incentive to give away for free what has become a major profit center for them.
That quote appears in a comprehensive look at the “complex” by Robert McChesney and John Nichols. Writing for Monthly Review magazine, the authors report that political advertising is a “bull market.”
The United States is in the midst of its quadrennial presidential election, a process that now extends so long as to be all but permanent. The campaign is also drenched in more money given by a small handful of billionaires than has been the case in the past. Since the 1970s the amount spent on political campaigns has increased dramatically in almost every election cycle. It has led to the formation of what we term the “money-and-media election complex,” which has a revenue base in the many billions of campaign dollars donated annually, and has effectively become the foundation of electoral politics in the United States. Moreover, the rateof increase in campaign spending from 2008 to 2010, and especially from 2008 to 2012, is now at an all-time high.
They tell us that Madison Avenue eventually took control of political campaigns, coinciding with Joe McGinniss’s The Selling of the President in 1969. Pitching a candidate was much like pitching toothpaste, and in advertising repetition works. Message. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
The book, which involved McGinniss spending time with Nixon’s television advertising advisors including Roger Ailes during the 1968 presidential campaign, seemed shocking and a sharp departure from the political-driven campaign narratives provided by the likes of White. McGinniss documented how Nixon came to rely upon TV political commercials, based on Madison Avenue marketing principles, as the foundation of his campaign. In the book Ailes presciently concludes immediately after the November victory, “This is the beginning of a whole new concept. This is it. This is the way they’ll be elected forevermore.” It is ironic that today, when one reads the book, it seems downright quaint, even homespun, in comparison to subsequent elections. The liberal McGinniss is able to wander through the corridors of power in Nixon’s campaign like a serendipitous hippie roaming around at Woodstock.
Nor does political propaganda, like commercial advertising, attempt to differentiate products in terms of facts and figures. Watch any television commercial to gain factual data and you will be disappointed. It’s all about attitude and emotion. How do you feel after watching a piece on Product X? Similarly, how do you feel about Candidate Y after watching his commercial?
McChesney and Nichols focus on negative advertising, the emerging staple of political propaganda. The objective is to incense the viewer, making him or her angry at the other guy. This strategy departs from the commercial realm. The reason becomes clear: negative advertising about a competitor’s pickup truck, for example, will engender cynicism about all pickup trucks, even yours. In politics, however, creating cynicism and, better yet, complete voter apathy is a good thing.
Negative advertising can be tremendously effective, a smashing over-the-top boffo success, even if it does not generate a single new voter for the candidate (or supportive independent group) placing the ad. If it simply takes voters leaning toward the opponent and makes them less likely to vote for the opponent, maybe not vote at all, that is a victory. After all the point is to get the most votes and if you lower the number for the opponent, that has the same effect as increasing your own total. Moreover negative advertising can have the delicious side effect of forcing an opponent to respond to charges, no matter how spurious. Negative advertising can amplify spectacularly the classic political move captured by the story of the politician who told his campaign manager to start a rumor that his opponent was a child molester. “But he isn’t a child molester, is he?” responded the aide. “Of course not,” said the candidate, “but I want to hear him deny it.”
With the Supreme Court’s disastrous ruling in Citizens United we ain’t seen nothing yet. The hundreds of millions of dollars accruing in Super PACs will give new meaning to negative advertising.
In the April 2012 issue of Harper’s Magazine editor Thomas Frank tells us that “It’s a Rich Man’s World: How billionaire backers pick America’s candidates.”
While visiting Kansas City last December, I read a local newspaper story lamenting the gradual transformation of Missouri into a reliably Republican citadel—a red state, as we like to say. In the past, I read, Missouri had been different from its more partisan neighbors. It had been a “bellwether” state that “reflected national trends,” rather than delivering votes for any particular party. But now all that was over, and I assumed the article would go on to mourn the death of judicious public reason—the tradition of giving rival arguments a hearing and testing them with that famous “Show Me” skepticism.
I was wrong. Forget the death of open-mindedness. What was actually being mourned that day in the Kansas City Star was a possible loss of advertising revenue by the state’s TV stations. If Missouri was no longer a battleground state, then the two parties and their various backers would no longer fight their expensive electronic war over the airwaves between St. Louie and St. Joe, and “spending on TV ads in the state [would] plummet.”
Franks provides us with a clear example of the “money-and-media election complex.” In tightly contested political races, even at the local level, campaign dollars flow directly to the TV stations. McChesney and Nichols:
Wall Street stock analysts can barely contain themselves as they envision the growing cash flow. “Voters are going to be inundated with more campaign advertising than ever,” one investor service wrote in 2011. “While this may fray the already frazzled nerves of the American people, it is great news for media companies.” “No one loves a good political brawl like a U.S. broadcast company. The fiercer the fight, the more money broadcasters can expect from campaign advertising—particularly in an era when political rhetoric grows more heated every day,” Moody’s Investors Service wrote in a special 2011 report touting media stocks as a good buy. “There are good political years, and then there are years like 2012, when speculative-grade, pure-play television broadcasters expect an unprecedented frenzy of political advertising amid an intense battle for control of both the White House and a closely divided Congress.” As Carl Salas of Moody’s put it, “Virtually all U.S. broadcasters will benefit from spending on political ads in 2012.”
One analyst likened political ads to Christmas shopping for retail outlets. The bulk of television profits are from campaign checkbooks, and it’s easy to see why. There are virtually no costs assumed by the stations; the political ads are already in the can ready for broadcast. And this year, a presidential one, will likely generate massive and record net revenues for TV stations across the country.
It wasn’t supposed to be this way, of course. After all, the airwaves are “owned” by the public. Television networks and local stations receive licenses from the government on the condition that they operate in the public’s interest. One public service envisaged by Congress and the FCC was political coverage. Television was expected to report on electoral issues. But major media have essentially blocked efforts to give effect to the original intent. As mentioned above, if a candidate wants coverage he can pay for it. There is almost zero incentive for television stations to cover campaigns.
McChesney and Nichols conclude thusly:
The U.S. electoral system is wallowing in a sea of money, idiocy, and corruption precisely at the moment the nation’s growing problems demand solutions that work to the benefit of the vast majority of Americans—the 99 percent—who have no role in the current regime except to be manipulated and exploited. This is going to be a defining political struggle going forward, until it is resolved.