Hard News Dan, Gary’s Man
Was the whole anti-tabloid thing just a tactic to land the central tabloid figure?

By Tim Graham, White House correspondent of World & former director of media analysis at the Media Research Center
August 6, 2001 10:40 a.m.

ll the network-news stars say ridiculous things about the absence of liberal media bias, but few are bold enough to boast that they offer a nightly haven of hard news, with no fluffy tabloid edges. But CBS anchor Dan Rather and his public-relations brigade are carrying their arrogance around on a dolly over their contempt for the Gary Condit-Chandra Levy story.

On Friday, the New York Post reported that Condit staffers think Rather's near blackout on the weeknight news is "extraordinarily responsible" and they suggest he may be rewarded with an exclusive interview when Condit is ready to talk. CBS News spokewoman Sandy Genelius was taking that scoop to the hole with elbows flying. "It's almost too absurd to merit comment, but it's not surprising that news organizations that have covered this story to tabloid excess are eager to impugn others who have shown more restraint." Genelius didn't consider before condemning other news outlets that within CBS, only Rather's pretending he's asleep. The Early Show keeps up with Condit details, and so does the Evening News on the weekends when Dan's not the sheriff.

This will make for snippier anti-Rather remarks in the future. Most of them we'll never hear. But a few years ago, when Rather was pushing his Hard-News Dan routine and the critics were (correctly) identifying ratings-leading NBC as "news lite," Tom Brokaw (correctly) made some hilarious remarks about how Rather's idea of hard news consists of wrapping himself around a telephone pole in a hurricane.

But wouldn't a Condit exclusive ruin the whole wouldn't-stoop-that-low routine? Was the whole anti-tabloid thing just a tactic to land the central tabloid figure?

In September 1993, just days after a remarkably unctuous interview with Hillary Rodham Clinton, Dan Rather gave a speech complaining that reporters have learned a new commercial formula: "Do powder puff, not probing interviews. Stay away from controversial subjects. Kiss ass, move with the mass and for heaven and ratings' sake don't make anybody mad — certainly not anybody you're covering, and especially not the Mayor, the Governor, the Senator, the President or the Vice-President or anybody in a position of power. Make nice, not news." That is exactly Rather's formula with Gary Condit. He'd rather make nice than make news.

Rather's show wasn't always this distracted when members of Congress were the targets of sex-scandal stories. CBS's promos in June of 1995 made the case that Sen. Bob Packwood should not be allowed to serve:

Announcer: "If Senator Bob Packwood really did what all those women say he did, it probably would have cost him his job long ago in corporate America. So why not in Washington?" Clinton adviser Mandy Grunwald: "You not only keep your job, you become the most powerful chairman of the most powerful committee in the United States Senate." Announcer: "Is Packwood too powerful to punish? A touchy subject on Eye on America, tomorrow on the CBS Evening News."

Dan Rather didn't use his strictest standard of evidence before pushing Packwood toward the door — notice the "if Packwood did what they said" disclaimer. CBS no doubt felt proud that they were striking a blow for women, sending a message to sex-addled solons that there would be watchdogs on their tail. But that was then and this is now.

In his only story, Rather highlighted the inappropriate focus on Condit: "You may want to keep in mind that the case remains officially a missing person case. No crime has been established. No one has been accused by law men of anything, much less formerly charged. No one's been charged with breaking any law."

Some analysts have honored Rather's near-blackout as if he was suddenly turning CBS into an oasis of non-commercial integrity. That would make a modicum of sense if he had any consistency. Politically, he's had one standard for Condit and Bill Clinton, and another for Packwood, Clarence Thomas, John Tower, and so on. Journalistically, Rather's introduced some rather randy sex stories as the anchor of 48 Hours. Look back just a few months back to April 5 for an hour-long focus on sex. One segment was headlined in Nexis as "Not the Cleavers: Tammy Robinson, mother of three, displays nude pictures of herself on the Internet for anybody to see." From there, CBS interviewed Playboy boss Hugh Hefner at his mansion, and followed up with a segment on spouse-swapping sex clubs. (It first aired on May 20, 2000). On April 1, 1999, 48 Hours also titillated viewers with segments on lucrative Internet porn, profiling tycoon Seth Warshavsky and online skin sensation Danni Ashe.

Rather's rush against tabloidism is at bottom not a socially conservative revulsion against illicit sex. Otherwise, he'd be appalled by Condit. Rather's cheerleaders are hailing a revolt against commercialism, against chasing the Nielsens for the Benjamins, that desire by many journalists to stick it to the shareholders and the CEOs and the ad-buyers from Red Lobster and be Jim Lehrer for a day.

But Rather may have another reason: He may be revolting against the Condit story because he's a convert to Washington Post columnist Richard Cohen's idea of how gentlemen behave. In the Cohen school, gentlemen are allowed to cheat on their wives. What gentlemen do not do is break the code of honor among adulterers. This code of honor was only applied to Democrats, to people who apparently weren't hypocrites in adultery, since they really weren't enthusiasts for "family values" in the first place.

Rather himself didn't like his own little turn in the hot seat. At the Republican convention in Houston in 1992, Tom Sherwood, a reporter for Washington's local NBC affiliate WRC-TV, turned the tables on Rather by asking him if he ever committed adultery. A squirming Rather tried to evade the question by asking if others were so inconvenienced: "You've been asking this to Tom Brokaw, have you?" (Sherwood asked his own network's Tim Russert, who quickly said no with a smile.) Then Rather asked Sherwood if he'd ever had an affair. Sherwood assured him "I'm going to answer the question at the end of my story." As he walked away, Rather turned on his robotic anchorman persona, saying cryptically, "Well, thank you very much. Pleased to see you." This would not be an answer Rather would have found acceptable for Tower or Thomas or Tailhook airmen. Rather wanted his audience to see these targets and think "guilty, guilty, guilty."

The new Dan Rather could be seen in his exclusive post-impeachment interview with Bill Clinton, a sponge bath that could foreshadow how Rather would approach a Condit exclusive. Rather's idea of probing toughness was this: "Mr. President, you know Americans like to know that the First Family is okay, that they're doing alright. Given the year plus what you and our First Family have been through, tell us what you can about how the three of you are doing."

Clinton assured Rather they are "doing reasonably well" since "we do love each other very much."

Without rolling his eyes or giggling, Rather then inquired: "How about yourself? We're here in a room with pictures of Lincoln, Washington, Continental Congress. When you look back over this year plus, what's the moral of it? Does it have a moral?" Rather wanted the audience chanting "the poor man, the poor man, the poor man."

It's no mystery why Clinton gave Rather the exclusive, and it would be no mystery if Condit did the same. But does that make CBS look good? Would anyone in TV news have looked good by soft-pedaling Packwood and then getting the exclusive?