As the United States faces tensions abroad, it also faces a crisis of democracy at home. Most Americans do not read a daily newspaper or watch a network evening news program. Most potential voters don't vote, even for president. Those two trends test the future of democracy as never before. Some of the void in representation is being taken up by public referenda, a form of direct democracy used increasingly to circumvent glacial-like state legislatures. But the same deficiencies that weaken state and national lawmaking bodies also infect the referendum route: voter ignorance and apathy in the face of powerful private lobbies. The result is a declining degree of public representation, especially in Congress, and a declining willingness of the press to nourish the democratic system by doing its job well.

For most of the past century, elected officials were more responsive to their constituents than they are now. President Franklin D. Roosevelt and Congress reacted to the depression with a flurry of new laws setting up Social Security, workman's compensation, unemployment assistance, wage and hour standards and many other benefits taken for granted today. In the 1960s and early 1970s, another wave of federal lawmaking helped the nation answer the call for stronger civil rights, consumer rights, environmental protection and anti-poverty efforts. Since then, however, the responsiveness of self-government to urgent public demands — such as universal health care, meaningful campaign reforms, strong gun controls and a fairer tax system — has faded.

One reason has been an organized reaction by business and conservative interests to the wave of liberal legislation and efforts to push women's liberation, racial equality and gay rights. Understanding that the media were essential to changing public attitudes, business and conservative political groups began in the 1970s to set up media gadflies, think tanks and associations to generate news and commentary that supported their causes. Among the leaders of this New Right movement was Joseph A. Coors, heir to the family beer business based in Colorado. Coors helped found the Heritage Foundation and similar institutions to produce propaganda for reactionary causes, including the religious right. Over the years, Coors money has also helped finance right-wing periodicals such as American Spectator and numerous conservative newspapers on college campuses. Another prominent angel of reaction has been Richard Scaife, the Mellon heir, whose millions have helped push politics, the courts and the news media more to the right.

Along with the corporatization and consolidation of news organizations, these conservative forces have managed to narrow the scope of political debate by dominating the field of commentators. They also have helped slow new laws and rules in the federal arena. A high point for them was the takeover of both houses of Congress by Republicans in 1994 after a 48-year hiatus. The result has been a further slowing of the legislative process, as indicated by the drop in number of laws passed and the increase in vapid compromises that don't please either side. Typical was the skimpy 1997 minimum wage increase that was weighed down by large tax breaks for employers. Adding to the legislative inertia has been a form of political gridlock in which the same party has been able to control both the presidency and Congress in only two of the last 20 years.

Most observers blame the split-party control for the failure to respond better to major demands of the populace for campaign finance reform, better health care, stricter gun control and the like. But the political system was designed with such checks and balances, and this specific alignment had been approved by voters. Legislative gridlock in the 1990s was more likely related to the steady drop in news coverage of national and international affairs and increased public apathy, which have paralleled the growth of conservative political power and corporatization of the news process, especially in the past two decades. With less coverage of government activities, and with news audiences drifting away, it is no wonder that citizen interest in voting has been dropping. It is no wonder so many people don't know who represents them in Congress or how their representatives perform in office.

The quality of public representation in Washington is very much determined by the amount and quality of news reporting. Skimpy coverage of legislative proceedings not only robs citizens of the information they need to evaluate a legislator's performance, but discourages people from going to the polls. Poor coverage also gives elected officials more space to play quid pro quo with special interests without being exposed to voters. The persistent urge of journalists and politicians to discredit anything relating to Washington hasn't helped either.

What Better Reporting Can Do

There is no doubt that government news can be dull. But it stands to reason that more serious news reporting could improve citizen knowledge of — and interest in — public affairs. Nothing is more critical to the proper functioning of democracy than the flow of information between voters and their elected leaders. Author James S. Fishkin has dispelled any doubts about that with his experiments in what he calls deliberative polling. In a televised National Issues Convention in 1996 at Austin, the University of Texas professor proved that organized efforts to expose a sample audience to politically balanced, in-depth information about specific issues would substantially raise the knowledge level of attendees and increase their interest in the subjects discussed. For example, the proportion of people approving the level of foreign aid in the federal budget rose from 26 percent to 41 percent after informative discussions on the subject.*

A more significant — but less recognized — effect was the political impact on people subjected to such polling. The more they learned about political issues, the more they tended to switch from conservative to liberal positions. For example, the proportion of people in favor of more education and training rose from 72 to 86 percent after discussion, while the proportion for a flat tax, like the one promoted by Steve Forbes, dropped from 44 to 30 percent. Such shifts were even more pronounced in a similar Fishkin experiment in England before the 1997 general election there. After listening to the key candidates at a weekend gathering, British participants moved from 11 percent Liberal Democrat to 33 percent and from 26 percent Conservative to 19 percent. The results presaged the sweeping Labour Party victory.

Here was what frightened conservative politicians: the clear evidence that more complete reporting and more balanced commentary could turn political control of government leftward as well as boost citizen interest in public affairs. Conversely, the results inferred that the decline of serious news reporting about government and the decline in voter participation in the past two decades had helped Republicans increase their electoral strength at state houses and legislatures as well as capture Congress. It also helped explain why conservative columnists such as George Will are not bothered by democracy for and by the elite.

Critics of Fishkin's U.S. experiment said the sample was not representative of the total population and that people don't behave normally before a live camera. Some charged that liberal forces were behind the exercise. Others questioned whether deliberative polling makes any more sense than a national town meeting, both concepts of which are impractical in such a large country, even with the Internet. But the shifts in attitudes were too large to be easily dismissed. It should not be surprising that exposing people to more information about a topic would change their views. What is surprising is that more has not been made about the implications for politics and the press.

The Fishkin experience may also help explain why the decline in serious news coverage has coincided with the increasing consolidation of media power with a strong conservative flavor. Rupert Murdoch, the head of News Corporation and the Fox network, is renowned for his contempt for liberals and the federal government. Other media chiefs with a strong conservative view of things include Jack Welch, chief executive of General Electric, NBC's corporate parent, and John Malone, head of AT&T's Liberty Media. A rare exception is Time Warner's Ted Turner. Clearly, the top rung of media combines is no place for progressive politicians or independent thinkers.

Despite glowing promises of better journalism after nearly every media merger, the news gap widens as stock values rise. Such a pattern cannot help democracy solve its most critical problems. At a time when the full attention of citizens and their elected representatives is needed, the nation's news business is losing the interest and ability to alert them.

*Footnote: James S. Fishkin, The Voice of the People, Yale University Press, 1997.

— Arthur Rowse, a veteran newsman and media critic, retired from U.S. News & World Report after serving on the city desks of The Boston Globe, Boston Herald/Traveler and The Washington Post. He is a former prize-winning columnist, newsletter publisher and National Public Radio commentator on consumer topics. The National Press Club conducts an annual competition in his name for excellence in media criticism.

This essay was excerpted from the book "Drive-By Journalism — The Assault on Your Need to Know" by Arthur Rowse. Copyright © 2000. Reprinted with permission of Common Courage Press.

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