Ze üpgrade vas a success! Ahem.
Brian Montopoli thinks that NPR is too homogenous. Once assimilated into the NPR Collective, even poor Tavis Smiley cannot avoid taking on the dreaded NPR Voice:
As we waited in the hallway, some of us tried to make small talk; others found a quiet corner where they could go over their lines. But we were all thinking about the same thing: The Voice, the NPR Voice, and how the hell we were going to pull it off. The Voice is tough to describe, but you know it when you hear it: It’s serious, carefully modulated, genially authoritative. It rings with unspoken knowledge of good wine and The New York Times Book Review. We were terrified of it.
Although not everyone finds it terrifying:
It is an extremely appealing Voice–to a certain demographic. About 20 million people tune into NPR each week. Their mean income is $78,216, and their average age hovers just below 50. Nearly 90 percent of those who shared their racial information are “non-Black/non-Hispanic,” according to NPR survey data. In other words, the people whose Zeitgeist Edwards et al., have been extraordinarily effective in catching are affluent, middle-aged white liberals, who tune in to the drivetime shows on their way to work and sometimes continue listening for the rest of the day. This demographic just adores NPR, and NPR gives the love right back.
I think Montopoli is giving NPR real short shrift in the diversity department. Yes, NPR sponsors a great many shows that appeal to affluent white coastal liberals. But c’mon, let’s be fair — it also sponsors shows that appeal to affluent white Midwestern liberals. For example, take A Prairie Home Companion (please!) I suppose the show does have a couple of redeeming features (“Guy Noir, Private Eye”). But that’s not enough to save it. Honestly, how many Sven and Ole jokes can this California boy be expected to take?1
Perhaps there are some cultural divides that can never and should never be crossed.
Addendum: the above should not be construed as saying that Midwestern humor consists solely of “Sven and Ole” jokes, or even that A Prairie Home Companion constitutes canonical Midwestern humor.2 Not a value judgement — it’s just different, kind of like saying I like vanilla, you like chocolate.3 PHC is just a bit too deadpan and understated for my tastes. I’m usually thinking, “Wait… was that a joke? I think it was… or was it? Should I laugh or what?” Now sure, I like Wry and I like Understated, but PHC is too much for me. Or, rather, too little. Put another way: between Garrison Keillor reading the news from Lake Wobegon and Steve Martin running around in circles banging pots together and shrieking, “Oklahoma-Oklahoma-Oklahoma-Oklahoma!”, I’ll take Steve.
Anyway, one last thing on NPR. Montopoli sets up a rather strange distinction between NPR (staid liberal white boomer programming) and PRI (“hip cultural programming”). Now I’ll grant you This American Life, but The World (a co-production with BBC News)? Marketplace?? Who are we kidding here?4
1. The worst thing is that A Prairie Home Companion is on all the freakin’ time on weekends. You can’t get away from it. This weekend is their Valentine’s Day Special show. Help!
2. Let alone that all Midwesterners should think it’s hilarious. Heavens.
3. Actually, that’s precisely backwards: I like chocolate, and statistically speaking, you like vanilla.
4. Of course this assumes that we go so far as to accept the premise that any public radio program could be hip and edgy. At this point we’ve probably gone off the deep end anyway.