To Wire a Nation

George Orwell was wrong. In the U.S., at least, television could never become an omnifarious Big Brother by 1984. A much more real threat is that it will never mature beyond the lowest common denominator of 1970. TV today seems doomed to remain an insultingly inadequate service, providing faulty reception on too few channels.

The problem is not technological. A system called cable television, or CATV, is now available and capable of delivering a choice of 60 different interference-free channels to virtually every U.S. home. The problem is not economic feasibility. Such a system would cost only about $10 to $20 for installation and around $5 a month; for a reasonable supplementary charge, first-run movies, plays, opera, other cultural attractions and local professional sports events (now blacked out on TV) could all be offered without commercials.

Small wonder that Irving Kahn, president of TelePrompTer Corp., the nation's second largest CATV firm, feels that this service has as much potential as "a legal narcotic" and has long talked about hooking up 85% of U.S. households within a decade. But CATV is, in fact, now 20 years old and still reaches less than 5% of the population. And almost nowhere does it provide more than a dozen channels or programming more distinctive than conventional TV.

Piratical Origin. What stands in the way of CATV is the pre-cable entertainment industry. Flush with profits, the industry maintains powerful lobbies in Washington and boasts powerful friends; at least 30 Congressmen hold interests in TV stations, and most Federal Communications Commissioners are traditionally either drawn from the industry or go to it after they leave the commission. Conventional TV broadcasters do have very real grievances, for CATV could be piratical unless properly regulated. It was started to bring television to isolated or poor-reception areas. CATV entrepreneurs raised hilltop antennas, plucked the signals of distant channels from the air and then relayed them, generally by coaxial cable, direct to subscribers' TV sets.

Operators of regular local stations complained that when CATV cables brought extra channels into town, they lost viewers and, consequently, lost profits. The networks in turn argued that any dilution of audience and revenue would necessitate a cutback in news and public-service programming. Hollywood studios, which hold copyrights to most films and programs retransmitted by CATV, felt cheated out of royalties. For their part, moviehouse proprietors claimed that by programming recent pictures, cable firms could put them out of business.

Only 21 Million. Naturally, all parties marched on Washington, and then wheeled uncertainly amid various jurisdictions. Two years ago, the Justice Department sided with CATV, on the grounds that that was "the most promising means of achieving greater diversity in local mass-media communications." In the Senate, the result was a standoff, with John Pastore's communications subcommittee favoring traditional broadcasters and John McClellan's copyright subcommittee leaning to the CATV upstarts. The courts seemed to rule one way one week, another the next. President Johnson appointed a task force to study the matter. And the Federal Communications Commission, as usual, put up its antenna and swayed with the wind.

The chaos might be amusing except for the potential importance of CATV to the nation. Since conventional TV must broadcast to large audiences, it must seek programming with the broadest possible appeal. As of now, for instance, there will be no original theater on network TV next season because no sponsor has been found. NBC has canceled perhaps its most literate situation comedy, My World and Welcome to It, because it pulled too small a following -a mere 21 million. Since it costs less to operate and can be aimed at a specific audience, cable TV could, for a charge of a few dollars a home, commission its own plays or ballets for an audience of only 250,000. CATV might thus be able to remedy the desperate economic plight of the performing arts.

Beyond that, CATV could change the country's way of life. Its copper coaxial cables, though larger than telephone cord, have 1,000 times the communications capacity. Washington willing, the U.S. could be transformed into what some call "the wired nation." Within ten years, CATV's two-way conduits could provide set-side shopping and banking, dial-a-movie service, a burglar and fire watch, and facsimile print-outs of newspapers or even library books.

With so many dramatic possibilities for CATV becoming apparent, the FCC has finally stirred itself to action. Dean Burch, the commission's pragmatic and impatient new chairman, boned up on the 19 volumes of deliberations and depositions filed on the matter and then announced earlier this year: "It is indeed long past time for a fair compromise. Never, I've heard it said, has so much regulatory prose brought so little solution. Some of our critics are saying that we've come closer to papering the country than wiring it."

Within the next week or so, Burch and his commission are expected to issue a long-overdue solution. It seemed certain last week that the commission will authorize CATV operators to retransmit distant signals and to get into the business of pay TV. In return, they will have to set aside certain commercial time and a percentage of their gross revenues to reimburse weak local UHF stations, U.S. public (educational) television and the Hollywood copyright owners of their relayed shows.

A for Courage. TelePrompTer's Kahn hailed the reported plan as "a historic move forward for American communications policy. This is a 180DEG turnaround toward cable television." A TV network executive professed not to be concerned. "I'll give them an A for courage," he said, "but these proposals are neither politic nor practical."

Once the proposals are issued, further public hearings may be held that could lead to major modification and to considerable delay. But there does indeed seem to have been a turnaround. Existing TV networks and stations have hedged their bets and now own 30% of all U.S. cable systems. And if nothing else brings a compromise, increasing public pressure may force Congress to impose one. Constituents, including many of the 40% of Americans who have bought color receivers and need cable service to make their reception worth the price, are comparing their sets with their neighbors' wired ones. The FCC's present rules, for example, have so gerrymandered San Diego that some cable-connected homes can get twelve channels with studio clarity, while neighbors a block away can have no cable and can tune in only three conventional channels. Says the Congressman for that district, Lionel Van Deerlin: "CATV is an idea whose time has come. All the armies of the world couldn't stop it."

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