The Why of Brian Williams, And So Many Like Him

REPOSTED FROM NEW YORK SOCIAL DIARY

BROADCAST NEWS Because I worked in network news for much of my career friends ask what I think of the Brian Williams scandal, and how it could have happened. The better question is why, and the answer puts blame as much with the industry, and the culture of fame, as it does with Williams. It’s the inevitable derailing of a direction in the news business, especially broadcast news, that began with Watergate and the incredible fame that hit Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein and begat more fame for countless other previously anonymous journalists, especially in regard to television.  Before them there was some Washington journalism fame, but nothing on a scale of the post-Watergate era. It quickly went from cluelessly innocent to quietly corrosive. If you saw “Broadcast News,” and remember the anchor “Tom Grunick” played by William Hurt, you get my drift.

One and the same? Anchors Brian Williams and Tom Grunick (as played by William Hurt?).

I was a producer at CBS News in Washington at the same time director James L. Brooks and his team were in town making that movie. They were very present at our bureau on M Street, and in our lives. Though the script was written, Jim continued to work on details. I remember one particular lunch with him at the Hay Adams where he asked me a series of questions about techniques used in shooting a field interview and alternative options to certain “cutaway” shots. It’s a point that’s critical to the film’s plot, and to Grunick’s veracity.  I also recall parties with the cast, and some of us joking with William Hurt that with his “looks” he could score an anchor job in a heartbeat. And then there was Albert Brooks, my idea of a heartthrob, who played the hard core, by-the-books reporter who lacked the star power and charisma to make it in the anchor chair. Just characters, right? Maybe not.

Albert Brooks (as the fast-talking Aaron) comes very close to stealing "Broadcast News."

The funny thing is back then, mid-'80s, coming off the Walter Cronkite era at CBS and with the Tom Brokaw era in full flower at NBC, we laughed off the film’s premise — that just being likable and charismatic and attractive was enough to get the big job, and so what if you skirted the truth a little bit here and there; it was all in the service of getting a point across; about the story, but also about the anchor’s empathy and sincerity. “This couldn’t happen,” we’d say to each other.

Tom Brokaw — the last of NBC's truly trusted?

Walter Cronkite.

Jim Brooks, a network news veteran himself, saw more clearly what was happening and got out in front the way Paddy Chayevsky did with his script for “Network,” the decade earlier and equally prescient movie about TV. Watch these two together and then examine the Brian Williams saga. Oh, and maybe also check out the last decade of reporting on the White House Correspondents Association dinner. (My friend Patrick Gavin is directing a documentary film about this event, which has the potential to be revealing.)

The White House Correspondents Association Dinner mixes all the modern celebrities together — political, entertainment and news.

What happened in the aftermath of “Woodstein,” sometimes with subtlety, sometimes not, is how suddenly having a byline was a gateway to celebrity, to having an agent, book contracts, possibly a network retainer. Being on TV, local or national, meant you might get tapped to play a TV reporter in a movie. It became about the fame. The line got very fuzzy between news and show business. It became not unheard of for interviewees to want the autograph — or a selfie with — the interviewer.  In addition to the money and attention, the more famous reporter was endowed with skills and talent that didn’t land on unknowns.

They were called "Woodstein," Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein at the time of Watergate, and the first really big modern era news stars.

If you weren’t on TV, you didn’t count. Young people who once just wanted to be a reporter, dogging a story, now wanted to be the TV anchor. And why not? There’s millions to be made, the perception of magic powers and infinite wisdom, and wherever you go there’s an entourage of executives and other staff whose every waking moment is devoted to your care, feeding and most insignificant whims.  The modern era anchor exists in a bubble of unchecked adoration. Until they mess up, and all the toys are taken away, except for a payout on a pointless contract. Brian Williams wanted to live up to the image of being Brian Williams, and why wouldn’t he? If he didn’t achieve and maintain those heights he risked becoming ordinary, a ratings drop, and losing his job.  By inflating the facts, which is what he apparently did, he fulfilled that image. Fame fanned him with approval.  It’s easy to get lost in the adoration of fame, especially if you don’t necessarily have a strong sense of self-worth, and the risks are the same regardless of whether the famous person is the star of a half hour sitcom or a half hour news broadcast.   Brian Williams got lost and his industry, in disruption itself, can’t help him