Must-see TV? Not quite
Some communities say promise of cable access unfulfilled
Terlonzo Amos has learned to improvise when it comes to producing television programs. Not only is he in charge of videotaping the games of the Malden Neighborhood Basketball League and putting them on local access television, but on occasion he'll operate the camera, clip on a microphone, and announce the game.
Amos's multitasking to produce a community sports event exemplifies what critics of local access say is a cultural revolution that never happened. Dependent on volunteerism, and a time-consuming educational series that teaches residents how to operate cameras, sound, and editing gear, the movement has yet to draw large numbers of political activists, academics, philosophers, poets, artists, or professionals. Instead, its base has been filled mainly by retirees and students, who produce a smattering of high school sports, political meetings, ethnic and religious programs, and generic talk shows, paid for by local subscribers.
More than 30 years ago, when the Federal Communications Commission mandated that cable companies set aside public access channels, people like Howard Horton envisioned the medium as an electronic soapbox, allowing Americans to speak their minds and take advantage of their First Amendment rights in a medium that was dominated by commercial networks.
"At the time, I think culturally, public access was viewed as a very radical vehicle that had the potential to change society; that, all of a sudden, instead of just having network television, you were going to be able to use the power of television in the hands of community people and that would change how people perceive their communities and it would allow new kinds of information to get out," Horton said.
Horton moved to Somerville in 1976 because it had the first urban access station in the state. He is now president of Bay State College and has advised more than 50 municipalities on how to structure their cable licenses.
"I don't think it's ever spread to certain kinds of professional and academic constituencies, and I think part of the reason for that is that producing television that's watchable takes a lot of time and effort," Horton said.
While cable access professionals acknowledge that programming is a "mixed bag," they say that the value of the service cannot be measured in numbers.
"It's not about how many people are tuning in at the same time; it's not traditional TV, it never has been," said Jeffrey Hansell, the executive director of Malden Access Television. "It's about how many different segments of the audience participate and view at different times of the day."
The stations were mandated by the FCC 33 years ago, and further protected by Congress in its Cable Communications Policy Act of 1984. Municipal officials now decide whether they want the local cable company, such as
With cable licenses differing in each community, subscribers pay different monthly fees to subsidize local programming. In Beverly, viewers pay $1.51 a month to support the local channels; in Lynn, its 17 cents a month; in Peabody, viewers pay 93 cents a month.
The fees, in addition to the annual rate increases in the area over the last six years, have angered some politicians, like Lynn Mayor Edward J. Clancy Jr. "It's unconscionable," said Clancy, reacting to rate increases by Lynn's cable operator, Comcast, and its previous cable provider, AT&T, since 2000. Standard cable service -- which includes Boston stations and networks such as CNN, ESPN, and MTV -- has risen from $33 a month in 2000 to its current high of $47.80.
"I guess the phrase is, 'Where's the beef?' " said Clancy. "They haven't lived up to their promises, and the company hasn't put the resources into the local access that was once envisioned."
Comcast, which serves 76 percent of the 2 million cable subscribers in Massachusetts -- including most communities in the Globe North region -- raised standard cable rates an average of $2.56 a month beginning Jan. 1.
In its press release, the company did not mention public access fees as a reason for raising rates.
"Price changes reflect the increased value of the service, new product developments and a more than $530 million investment to improve customer service, enhance the reliability and quality of our network and introduce new technology that gives customers more choice and control," Comcast spokeswoman Jennifer Khoury wrote.
Clancy stopped short of calling for an end to public access in Lynn, but said the rate increases and franchise fees would push him to take a closer look at local programming.
Swampscott's Rick Borten, who oversaw the cable franchising process in 1981 as cable administrator to former Boston mayor Kevin White, believes cable access stations have to reach out to different segments of the population to stay viable, and replenish their volunteer base. "If it doesn't get better, it's going to wither up," said Borten. Access stations in Malden, Haverhill, and Beverly are focusing on their outreach efforts, say access administrators.
"We've gone from a handful of members to over 500," said Darlene Beal, executive director of Haverhill Community TV, describing the last 10 years. The station, which receives $350,000 in Comcast funding each year, operates three access channels. Beal now says the station has close to 300 active members, two-thirds composed of senior citizens and high school students. Volunteers produce close to 70 hours a month of new programming, including eight new hourlong church services every Sunday and 44 regular shows taped in the access studio.
"If the mission is to be technically like the big guys, then we're not quite there; if we're there to empower the community to make TV programs, than we're fulfilling our mission," Beal said.
With a staff of nine and a budget of more than $300,000 a year, Malden's Hansell says access is evolving, and growing. One of the changes he's noticed in recent years has been an increase in syndicated ethnic programming. In Malden, syndicated programming comprises up to 40 percent of the shows aired, says Hansell. "People who might have had an idea at one time of producing a program that they could air on Channel 5 now are saying, 'You know, I can do the same thing with access channels.' "
But the notion of amateur-produced, localized programming has its limitations, says Brett Rhyne, a former access producer who is now an assistant professor of communications at Salem State College. He also wonders who's watching. "The pioneers of access had an anti-commercial aesthetic," said Rhyne. "They had faith that programs with intelligent, provocative content would find an audience, despite poor production values. They were wrong. People today don't have the attention spans to watch half an hour of some two-chairs-and-a-plant interview -- give them their MTV."
Rhyne calls access outdated, and now believes it's easier to make TV shows available as webcasts on the Internet. Rhyne thinks the potential audience is wider, and is advising students who are starting a campus TV station to create programming that can be stored on a server, and accessed by anyone with an Internet connection.
Said Rhyne, "A TV program aired on a public access station can be seen by a limited amount of cable subscribers in that town. A program available on the Web could, potentially, be seen by millions of people around the world."
Steven Rosenberg can be reached at rosenberg@globe.com
