Perception Becomes Reality

Television has destroyed Reality in the United States. The magic boxes fill American homes with meaningless drivel every minute of every day, and the number of flavors only increases with every passing day. Proponents argue that it informs, educates, even uplifts the viewing public as they see educational programming, news from all over the world and presidential debates. An examination of the influence of TV over the debates alone provides clear evidence that TV provides a meaningful service to the American population. They can now pretend to be intelligent because they watched two people vying for what might be the most influential office in the world posture and pose for each other in what is still called “a debate.”

The viewers themselves have made a statement about the value of the presidential debates on television. The ratings dive from the Anderson-Carter-Reagan debate to the present. (3) As deluded as they may be by the hours of mind-numbing reality programming they feast on each night, even they realize that the debates are less “real” than even reality television, perhaps less real than sit-coms. At least in Everyone Loves Raymond the actors pretend to be real people who might say what they think even if it gets them in trouble. Presidential candidates must maintain a certain image, and being wrong (even if its funny) is not an option.

Image trumps everything when it comes to television. Angus Campbell claimed that Americans “lost this feeling of direct contact,” and that “television has now restored it.” He spoke of how the presidential debates beamed into American homes renewed America’s connection with its presidential candidates, a connection that used to be gained in stump-speeches and glad-handing. Campbell’s article, himself being a big fan of the great improvement gained by televising these events, speaks more clearly to the opposite. He states that “events have seemed to give substance,” and “has appeared to be fulfilling its early promise.” (italics added) The idea of direct contact pales in comparison to appearance and the seeming reality that has now taken over as the power of television invades reality.

The idea of television providing any form of “direct contact” is laughable. How many producers and directors and writers and make-up artists and editors work over each segment of television before it crashes into American homes and minds? Even “live debates” have formatted questions, directors that choose camera shots, candidates coached to wear the right colors and say anything but the wrong things. A presidential debate on television is about as direct as a flight from New York to LA with a stop-over in Sri Lanka.

But no one knows what Sri Lanka looks like, so that’s probably a bad analogy. American perception of the Vietnam War, on the other hand, is always a great analogy for almost anything. In 1968, as American soldiers fought and died in Vietnam, Johnson was convinced that the war was winnable and told American people as much. As soon as Walter Cronkite said otherwise, Johnson, watching the broadcast on television, “turned to his aides and said, ‘It’s all over.’” Johnson’s knowledge of the war didn’t change his opinion, watching Walter Cronkite on TV did. Speaking to the generals on the ground or the admirals at sea or the pilots in the air didn’t change his opinion, the television did. Because Cronkite “had more authority with the American people than anyone else.” Rather than being convinced by the information from those who had it first hand, he was convinced by someone whose job was ostensibly to read the news, someone who was allowed to continue to read the news because he had the right “image” and got more people to watch the right channel.

Ted Koppel is no Walter Cronkite, but he does have pretty solid hair so he'll do in this case. Despite his position and the millions of dollars he has made by getting people to watch his channel, he acknowledges the futility and farce of a presidential debate on TV. In an interview he spoke of recapping a presidential debate on Nightline. “It is a joke to call an event like the one that transpired tonight a debate… Because we were able to pull the best three or four minutes out of the ninety-minute event, Nightline made the whole thing look pretty good. That’s the ultimate irony.”

Koppel can admit it, and perhaps that admission would outrage American TV watchers. People might get upset that they spend their time and base a very important decision on something that people in the know call “a joke.” Actually, the ultimate irony is that Koppel doesn’t have to worry about Americans getting upset at the reality he describes for them. They will never see it, or even hear it. The irony is that his statement will have no influence on the reality of the American audience because he didn’t say it on TV. Its in a book.


1. Ramney, Austin, Channels of Power: The Impact of Television on American Politics. New York: Basic Books, 1983.

2. Koppel, Ted. Off Camera: Private Thoughts Made Public. New York: Vintage Books, 2001.

3. Adapted from Nielsen Tunes into Politics: Tracking the Presidential Election Years (1960-1992). New York: Nielsen Media Research, 1994.

4. Cambell, Angus. “Has Television Reshaped Politics?” In Encyclopedia of Television / Museum of Broadcast Communications. Vol. 1, ed. Horace Newcomb. New York: Fitzroy Dearborn, 2005.