Yakkety Yak

Rick Henderson from the June 1991 issue

Talking Heads: Political Talk Showa and Their Star Pundits, by Alan Hirsch, New York: St. Martin's Press, 218 pages, $17.95

Last summer I appeared as a panelist ton John McLaughlin’s CNBC talk show. After the show, several friends asked me how McLaughlin really was. I said, “He’s a genuinely pleasant fellow, even though he yells a lot.”

And John McLaughlin’s yelling, as much as anything else, has irritated Beltway-area attorney Alan Hirsch to such an extent that he wrote Talking Heads: Political Talk Shows and Their Star Pundits. While he provides interesting background on the history of talk shows and biographies of several of today’s stars, Hirsch arrives at disappointing conclusions. He ends up calling for laws (that’s right) to protect the democratic process from being overwhelmed by scores of John McLaughlin (or Sam Donaldson) clones. He also mars his analysis with left-wing catchphrases and elitist clichés. Ultimately his criticisms boil down to: We should get rid of these shows because I don’t like them.

Political talk shows-what Hirsch calls “television’s op-ed page”-have been around since the 1950s. Most of the early entries were newsmaker shows like “Meet the Press” or “Face the Nation.” Hirsch correctly notes that few of the bureaucrats and elected officials who appear as “newsmakers” actually say anything earthshaking on the air; so he concentrates on the shows with commentators who can provide insight while being insulated from the potential wrath of voters.

Hirsch is a fairly successful historian and biographer. He studies his subjects well and interviews many of them. Readers who know the pundits only from their television appearances might not know, for example, that Carl Rowan was ambassador to Finland, that Robert “Prince of Darkness” Novak is a highly regarded political historian, or that Sam Donaldson briefly sold insurance. (Well, the briefly part isn’t surprising.)

But if you want the history, you have to wade through a lot of ideological muck. For example, Hirsch focuses on six shows: “Firing Line”; “Agronsky and Company/Inside Washington”; “The Mc- Laughlin Group”; “The Capital Gang”; “Crossfire”; and “This Week With David Brinkley.” He leaves out “The MacNeil/Lehrer News Hour” and “Nightline” because, he says, they’re basically newsmaker shows. Perhaps. But he also excludes “Washington Week in Review” because “the journalists report what has transpired on their beat while generally keeping their political views to themselves.”

Excuse me? “Washington Week” is little more than a mutual admiration society for Beltway liberals. Routinely, soporific host Paul Duke leads a “discussion” about some social problem that demands federal action now. Quite often one panelist is a skillful analyst-Hedrick Smith, Juan Williams, and Thomas Friedman regularly appear-but their insights get lost in the wails for more government power.

Yet there are better round tables than “Washington Week” for political junkies. “Agronsky and Company,” the first show to present a group of pundits commenting rapid-fire on the issues of the week, introduced television viewers to George Will. Will had developed a strong following with his syndicated newspaper column but didn’t achieve stardom until Martin Agronsky gave him a weekly forum.

Hirsch explains what made Will special: Unlike the other “Agronsky” panelists, Will’s “sentences not only parsed, but joined to form pretty paragraphs. His vocabulary was refined, and he sometimes spiced his remarks with a brief anecdote or appropriate quotation.” The newspaper pundit became the political philosopher of the airwaves. While Mill now stars on the Brinkley show, “Inside Washington” has another in-house star, Charles Krauthammer.

 “Agronsky” inspired “The Mclaughlin Group” and “Crossfire.” But he pioneering show has had its critics. As in example, Hirsch cites a 1981 Michael Kinsley piece from The New Republic titled “Jerkofsky and Company,” a bogus transcript featuring panelists Hugh Sidewall (whom Marvin Jerkofsky asks, ‘Hugh, do you have any brains left at ll?”), George III (who reels off a string If centuries-old quotations), and Jack Curmudgeon (“Harrumph. Balderdash. Poppycock. Horsefeathers. Et cetera.”).

While Kinsley certainly hit his mark, le couldn’t get away with such a parody today: As the co-host of “Crossfire,” Kinsley occasionally resembles a cartoon character himself. Hirsch saves his deadliest venom for “The McLaughlin Group.” It’s unsophisticated, shallow, and too fast, he Complains. The journalists who participate “take part in pointless catfights.” And worst of all: It’s harmful to political debate.

As a fan of “The McLaughlin Group” (it’s my favorite round table), I recognize its shortcomings. It does have a very narrow focus and a brief shelf life. Yet it’s great TV. Hirsch compares the show to a professional wrestling match, with the panelists portraying designated good guys and villains. But that’s the fun of it.

And the regular panelists actually contribute more to the evaluation of issues than, say, “Crossfire,” which simply frames every controversy in a left-right dichotomy. The Group’s viewers know that Pat Buchanan will provide thoughtful, but highly partisan, commentary; Fred Barnes will attack the Wimps on the Left; Jack Germond, unlike most liberals these days, will champion government social programs and civil-liberties issues such as drug legalization; Mort Kondracke will somehow find a middle ground. And John McLaughlin will yell.

But Hirsch has his own solutions to undignified displays such as those on “The McLaughlin Group”: “There is no shortage of legislative steps that can be taken.” Hirsch would immediately restore the fairness doctrine and make the FCC a superagency run by Ben Bagdikian and other leftists. New laws would “democratize ownership of the media; [increase] corporate taxes; and [institute] a progressive tax on advertising.“

Yes, Hirsch says, concerned viewers must “appeal to all parties to make the public interest paramount.” Or he’ll rescind your broadcast license. And what would “This Week with Alan Hirsch” resemble? “Firing Line.” Wake me when it’s over.