On Feb. 5, 2006, ABC's coverage of Superbowl XL made the news for its censorship of the Rolling Stones' half-time performance. (The initial broadcast also aired before an audience of around 90 million. I hear the Steelers won.) The resulting controversy has paled in comparison to the infamous 'Wardrobe Malfunction' of 2004 (experts cite Janet Jackson's much higher sex appeal as compared to that of Mick Jagger singing about dead men coming).
However, the discussion of the censored lyrics''You make a dead man come' and 'Once upon a time I was your little rooster / Am I just one of your cocks''?has served a useful function: it has once again turned media attention to the Federal Communications Commission at a time when it's been at the focus of a wealth of new legislation, but off the average person's radar screen. If you've never taken J201 or decided to spend those lectures doing something more productive, such as eating, sleeping or procreating, the ongoing FCC controversy may be unfamiliar territory.
The FCC was created in 1934 to oversee the United States' radio and television industries, and censors them by granting or denying broadcasting licenses. Since the '30s, FCC censorship has rested on two guiding principles: obscenity and indecency. Though the specific definitions may have changed with time, the spirit behind them (specifically, the Ghost of Ambiguity and Bureaucratic Impotence, which also visited Ebenezer Scrooge in an early draft of Dickens' 'A Christmas Carol') has remained just as otherworldly. Obscenity applies to speech deemed by the average person to 'appeal to the prurient interest,' to depict or describe sex in a 'patently offensive way' and to lack serious artistic or social value.
Subtract the parts about the prurient interest and lack of artistic merit, and essentially you've got indecency, obscenity's cousin of uncertain parentage. The modern FCC debate focuses mainly on the idea of indecency, for the most part ignoring obscenity (few people rush to defend the right of sadomasochistic porn to be broadcast on network television). The FCC's indecency policy has long been a target of criticism, particularly since 1978 when the Supreme Court supported the agency's right to fine a station for broadcasting George Carlin's 'Seven Dirty Words' routine.
Not only are the FCC's regulations problematic, but so are the methods by which they are enforced. Virtually all cases handled by the agency begin their lives as complaints lodged by listeners or viewers.
Most of these cases die shortly thereafter, for reasons ranging from improper filing to being completely incoherent. When a case does make it past this stage, the offending station is notified. If the FCC decides the station did in fact violate indecency laws, then things get ugly.
This system has one benefit in that easily offended or brittle listeners are most likely not listening to a morning show describing the Hot Karl, Stranger and Manhattan Hot Platter in the first place. (Curious? Get the definitions online at www.fcc.gov). However, this style of self-regulation begs the question of why indecency laws are needed in the first place if the offended can simply switch off the station. The FCC's primary method of punishment, issuing fines, is also unfair to small, community-based broadcasters. Clear Channel can write a check for $50,000 without batting an eye while a college station could be bankrupted by it.
As the government considers increasing the amount of fines by a factor of 10 and forcing stations to keep massive, expensive backlogs of their broadcasts, the disparity in the FCC's handling of big and small broadcasters is poised to increase dramatically. And with a proposed law that would expand their jurisdiction to non-broadcast channels such as cable TV and satellite radio, it may be time for Americans to follow the immortal words of Jimmy James in regards to the FCC: 'Bad clown making like super American car racers, I would make them sweat, War War.' Let this be our battle cry.
