Fading

 

You might not recognize his name, but I’m pretty sure you’d recognize his words.

He’s a former speech writer for President George W. Bush and now writes political commentary for The Atlantic magazine.

His name is David Frum. A life-long Republican, he wrote something particularly insightful recently:

Art restorers use the term ‘photodegradation’ to describe the process by which a painting fades. The colors remain present; they just become less vivid. 

That’s the Joe Biden story.

Biden has been an astonishingly successful president.

With a wafer-thin majority in the House and Senate in his first two years (and despite losing the House for his second), Biden enacted more major liberal legislation than any other president since Lyndon B. Johnson.

He organized the successful defense of Ukraine against Russian invasion, expanded and invigorated NATO, and faced down internal opposition in his own party to stand by Israel in its hour of need.

Biden’s economy is the best since the late 1960s.

Over his four years in office, one social indicator after another has turned positive after trending the wrong way under even the pre-pandemic Donald Trump: Crime is down, marriages are up; opioid deaths are down, the number of American births is up. Not all of this was his personal work, but it happened on his watch—and the opposite happened on the previous watch.

That’s the everyone story. Like I’ve said: Joe Biden reminds us of our mortality. Donald Trump reminds us of America’s.

Now, the focus has shifted. With Biden’s “forced” but unselfish withdrawal, we see a stark difference between the positive vigor of Kamala Harris and the angry – and yes, OLD – Donald Trump. He looks old now. He sounds old. He seems stuck looking backwards as he describes an America most of us don’t recognize, brooding about revenge and retribution.

Trump suffers by comparison, as Biden did earlier this year.

We see the unmistakable normality, good humor and – yes – sheer likeable personality of Tim Walz when compared with the brooding anger and misogyny of JD Vance, the least popular nominee for Vice President in modern history, more disliked than even Sarah Palin. Walz, the neighbor most of us would prefer, unquestionably the one we would be more likely to trust our kids and grandkids with. Again, Vance suffers by comparison.

All this reminded me of Radio.

Our colors remain present; they’re just less vivid.

We suffer by comparison with the new: Spotify, YouTube, everything digital. But we don’t have to.

We concede our greatest advantage: local content and companionship.

Hurricane Helene has literally destroyed entire small towns in the western parts of North Carolina. As I type this morning, 128 have been confirmed dead with hundreds still missing.

This is when Radio has always proven its worth. But is it today?

I don’t know if these small communities even have power, if radio transmission is even possible, but if it is, what are those listeners hearing?

With this scale of devastation and death, local radio stations become the neighborhood phone tree, the grocery store bulletin board – or should.

This isn’t the time for long stretches of uninterrupted music and liners. People want – need – information. Who’s missing? Has anyone seen Rusty the dog? Where can we find hot meals, water, help?

If nothing more, hearing a familiar voice talking to us helps.

But are there familiar voices in these small communities this week, or have they all been replaced by voice-tracking?

Is anyone with long local ties still on the air in any of these towns, anyone with the connections to help us get back on our feet emotionally, or are we hearing syndicated talent from anther state?

You don’t stock provisions for normal days, you stock them for days like these, so you have bottled water, and a generator and fuel when you can’t get it anywhere else.

You don’t pay local talent for normal times, you keep your stations staffed locally for these kind of emergencies.

But did we? Or in the deaf ears of the investment bankers controlling our business, did we fire those people years ago to save the paltry sums they were paid?

They’re not here now when we absolutely need them above anyone else!

Shame on us!

The question is, do we refuse to change, stuck in our old ways – far too many commercials, way too few reasons to listen right now, way too little investment in content, especially local content – or do the hard work of change to remain necessary and relevant? 

We will vote in November based on emotion, on how candidates make us feel, and unconsciously find facts and stories that support those feelings. Confirmation bias.

It works for Radio too.

What story are we telling this morning that listeners can recognize and believe in to support behavior they already show?

Some 92% of Americans listen to Radio at least once a week, the most used of all media options, including cell phones.

But as we totter along, slashing more of our content to try to squeeze a few more pennies of profit, we should recognize the risk – and we only have to look to this election, and what’s unfolding right now in North Carolina and Georgia, to understand our problems.