Dr. Boli fondly recalls how, in one broadcast, Murrow had to report on Senator McCarthy’s latest tirade, in which McCarthy accused one Edward R. Murrow of being a Communist agent, building up a crescendo of batty assertions climaxing with the astounding charge that Murrow had been moonlighting as a professor at the Moscow University summer school. Murrow simply reported what McCarthy had said, without contradicting him. He ended with only one sentence of personal statement: “My own reactions, and possibly corrections, will have to wait for another time.”
That, young journalists, is how you build up trust.
Thousands of pages of typewritten radio scripts are in the Murrow papers, and they almost bring the man back to life. His typing is hasty, with capitals frequently out of alignment because he can’t wait for the shift key to do its job. Scribbled emendations show us how carefully Murrow crafted his message, marking the emphases and pauses, taking out what was superfluous or irrelevant, and leaving only what would communicate directly with the ordinary American.
All of which brings us to this story, which caught Dr. Boli’s eye as he was glancing over one of the three-thousand-page “volumes” of typescripts. Somehow Dr. Boli missed this news when it was news, but he wonders now what ever became of this case. Murrow’s treatment is chatty and personal, obviously meant for one of his opinion shows, so it brings out the full Murrow personality. If you want even more of the Murrow personality, read the original typescript, where you can see all of Murrow’s own scribbled marks to show how the expressions and the breaths are to be managed.
June 1, 1951.—Another Court decision of some interest in Washington today. The Capital Transit Company had been piping broadcasts into its streetcars and busses. These broadcasts consisted of news, music and commercials. Today the Court of Appeals decided, unanimously, that that’s got to stop. The Court ruled that those who ride on streetcars and buses have a constitutional right not to listen. Such programs deprive passengers of liberty without due process of law; violate the Bill of Rights, (which is considerably older than radio). The three judges said the Bill of Rights “can keep up with anything an advertising man or electronics engineer can think of.” If the Transit Company obliged its passengers to read what it liked, or get off the car, invasion of their freedom would be obvious. The company now obliges them to hear what it likes, or get off the car. The Court held that the passengers’ loss of freedom not to listen is the more serious because many people have little time to read, consider, discuss what they like, or to relax.
The transit people, who wanted to keep on broadcasting, argued that the majority of their riders wanted the music, news and commercials; and said that the idea that buses and streetcars—with or without broadcasting reception—are sanctuaries for rest and thought is just as astounding a thesis, as the idea that the failure of the streetcar railway systems to provide such sanctuaries is a menace to our American way of life. So unless the Supreme Court decides otherwise there won’t be any more news or commercials in Washington’s buses and streetcars. But the question of music is still undecided, for Judge Edgerton reading the unanimous opinion said the Court was not compelled to decide whether occasional broadcasts of music alone infringe constitutional rights. It is to be hoped that some stouthearted citizen will test that one in the courts too; because to be forced to listen to music—at least some kinds of music—or get off the bus, may be just as distasteful as listening to news or commercials. I have heard certain types of music which do me serious injury, and prevent me from reading, discussing or relaxing.
This case will be appealed to the Supreme Court, and may provide the learned Justices with some diversion on a dull day. Disregarding the purely legal aspects of the case, Chief Justice Vinson might hold that it’s all right to subject a captive audience to “Take Me Out to the Ball Game”; Mr. Justice Tom Clark would be reluctant to say that it’s unconstitutional to force anybody to listen to “The Eyes of Texas Are Upon You”; Mr. Justice Frankfurter might well contend that a half-hour of Beethoven never hurt anybody, and so on.
The Supreme Court probably won’t get around to hearing this vexed case until some time in the Autumn, but we’ll advise you of the outcome. The most eloquent testimony on this subject of captive audiences in transit was given by Harold Ross, the Editor of the New Yorker, when a similar situation arose here in New York, some time ago. He gave it as his opinion that the employees in the railroad station “must be slowly going nuts.” An attorney for the railroad asked Mr. Ross if his hearing was good. “I am thinking” snapped the editor “of having an eardrum punctured.” Another commuter said he’d lost a mother-in-law; he asked the station to page her on the loudspeaker system, but they wouldn’t interrupt the program, so he lost her. It is gratifying, in this complex world, where so few things seem to get settled, to know that eventually the Supreme Court will render a decision on this matter. Meanwhile, permit me to wish you a quiet week end.
And now a question for readers. Dr. Boli’s own doctorate of laws is, you will recall, honoris causa, meaning that it does not make him an expert. Are any students of law out there who know how this case came out? Did the Supreme Court really hear the case, and how did it rule?
It is admittedly unlikely that the decision was not overturned, since the ubiquity of televisions in public places would be seriously curtailed by a strict application of this precedent. Nevertheless, just in case this does turn out to be valid precedent, we have sent a private message through the usual channels to Mr. Bozar the Clown.