By: Brandon King

Broadcast news producers have a box of tools beside them as they decide how the stories of the day are to be covered. The tools they decide dictate how the story is interpreted by the people watching. This means they have a great responsibility.

-

People who build houses understand that tools need to be used in the right places. A sensible person isn’t going to use a staple gun to stick a painting on the wall, but he’ll probably use it to affix insulation in the wall. The painting merely needs the simple hammer and nail, but that won’t do for the insulation.

-

Carpenters need to use resources effectively, and that’s what producers need to remember as well─keep in mind, as journalists, we want to tell our stories effectively. We want our viewers to understand what is happening in our world, and we want them to understand it right.

-

But we must remember that we work in television. As visual language has been established over the decades, we have begun to understand the ways technology can be used in broadcast as a means of telling better stories. We are in a better position to think about the ways we can strengthen journalism in a visual way─and the way we accomplish this is by understanding the tools at our disposal.

-

Kurt Lewin proposed gatekeeping theory in 1947. In a nutshell, the theory states that the media (journalists) frames the news─that the media decides what the important issues are by deciding what stories to cover and how to cover them. So, if the media does not think health care is important, producers will spend little time on these stories─or, perhaps, not cover them at all. In effect, the public believes health care is not important.

-

This is the reason why producers need to think clearly about the hammer, the screwdriver, and the staple gun. They need to use the tool that is the most appropriate to the story. To tell an anchor to write a 20-second script about a story, you are saying it’s not that important. On the other hand, setting up the live shot is one way to tell the audience: “Hey; this is important.”

-

So be responsible, producers. Stand for journalism.

By: Brandon King

-

I remember sitting in my eighth grade study hall one day talking about a recent episode of Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. My friends and I were talking about how great it would be to work for the show. Fast-forward seven years and I ended up doing that when the crew set up in Moorhead.

ABC needed three full-time production assistants during the week, so an ABC rep called Concordia to find some eager younglings who would fit the bill. I was recommended because of my involvement in the college television scene.

-

It’s a cool gig, right? A production assistant for a national television network. People asked me what I would be doing, but ABC didn’t tell. I only knew what I’d be getting paid, that I would need to work nights, and of course, that regal title: production assistant. Oh, how important I would be.

-

But soon I realized why they wanted a member of production to work completely through the night. I was to be the “go-to” guy that ABC staff/security turned to if they wanted their garbage cans changed or their Red Bull delivered. As an optimist, though, I conceded and obliged.

-

So I spent the first couple days on my knees, doing things like rubbing the dirt out of Ty’s trailer (which must be set to exactly 75 degrees, by the way) and fetching people coffee. But there was a twist; this was a test.

-

On the third day, my boss approaches me and says, “You know, Brandon─you’re a good worker, and I’m going to step this up a little.” He leads me to a trailer for producers and says, “You’re going to shoot video for us tonight.” Then he hands me a Sony Z1U and tells me to explore the construction site and capture as many shots of the action as I want. He instructs me that the director will look at the footage tomorrow.

At this point I learned that there is some value in getting on the boss’ good side, and that there is some value in being an ABC employee holding a five thousand dollar video camera.

-

I never really thought I would ever get asked for an autograph, but there were people who wanted them as I walked by the spectators. There were radio stations that were requesting interviews, and there were volunteers eager to talk about my experience in show business. During some down time, I even set up a date with a nice girl from NDSU─the camera might have helped.

-

Overall, though, I focused on doing a good job and got a lot of good shots. But I put my faith in the director, and wondered what he would think. Then that moment came.

-

The director, a tall, burly man in his 50s who is always seen wearing cowboy hat, called me to his trailer to say that he loved my work. He told me to expect to see of my shots when the show airs on January 2nd.

-

So it’s funny how things can change so quickly. One day, I’m seen as your ordinary college student, and the next, I’m being asked for autographs. One minute, I’m wiping the floor, and the next, I’m shooting video for a large-scale commercial television program.

-

Now that the show is over, I’m a college student again, but I wonder if people will be asking for autographs again when my name pops up in the credits.

By: Brandon King

-

Switch on your television set at 10 and you’ll see the local news. Switch it on at 9:30 and you’ll see the latest episode of Two and a Half Men. It’s a big programming change when you consider the dramatically different purposes of journalism and entertainment.

-

Let’s look at the word, journalism. According to Michael Ventura of the Austin Chronicle, it comes from the French, “jour” meaning “day,” then from the English, “journal,” referring to those people who kept written records of the day. “Journalist,” then, was the word chosen to describe people who provide records of the day─records used by us as well as by future historians.

-

But Wester defines “entertainment” as “amusement or diversion provided especially by performers.” But a diversion from what? Well, life. We are amused only when we focus on the sensory experiences directly in front of us, which require a temporary disconnect from the larger world. If broadcast writers want to entertain, they can’t make a buck unless they get people laughing─so they’re going to focus on the gags and ignore the larger story.

Here, then, we see two completely different missions of journalism and entertainment. Journalism, above all other pursuits, provides records that lend themselves for use now and forever. I can use journalism to make informed decisions about my community, and my great-grandson can use it to write the history books. I can use journalism to make decision in the voting booths to benefit myself and the people around  me, and my great-grandson can use journalism to determine what our people did right and wrong in the early 21st century.

-

But the big picture is not of primary interest in entertainment. Entertainment (remember: a diversion) seeks to amuse an audience only at the time that it is presented. Entertainment writers want as many of the superficial laughs that they can get, and they do that with every show.

So we have a problem when news/public affairs programming is afforded a buckets-worth of air time when entertainment is given a truck-full. We’ve been socialized to believe that television is an entertainment machine. How can we understand journalism’s mission when every day it is embedded within mountains of the superficial?

It’s tough to place the blame. The fact is, television wasn’t designed as a public service. But we allow ourselves to accept this status quo; to accept the idea that television = entertainment. What about all the good it can do?

-

Of course, I am not anti-entertainment; in fact, I believe this occasional “diversion” from life is appropriate to live life better. But it is so easy to cross the line, and we crossed way over it a long time ago.

-

I believe the Rx is to provide a more appropriate mix of public affairs and entertainment, and the line between them must be clear. Of course, this will frighten broadcast executives. But you can have public affairs programming that is interesting, even entertaining─the difference is that you are not creating the product with the aim to entertain. Your focus is the public interest.