Drugs, Drinking Are TV’s Next Act to Clean Up

Despite all the hype about the “new” shows of the “new” fall season, there is a certain old familiarity that permeates television’s annual rite of self-promotion. But this year I hope that television viewers will find a truly substantive difference in what we have to offer. If we have done what we set out to do 12 months ago, this season’s programming should evidence an unmistakably new attitude toward the portrayal of drug and alcohol abuse.

The Academy of Television Arts and Sciences enlisted in the war against drugs last year because wherever there is the influence of drugs there is the influence of television. There are nearly as many TV sets in America as there are people. Kids typically view seven hours of programming a day. Drug abusers and, more important, potential abusers all watch television.

In drug counseling the word enablers is used to describe family members who make it possible for an addict to get deeper into drugs by refusing to acknowledge his problem, by lending him money to pay off his recurring debts, by believing his lies--in short, by looking the other way. In much the same way, television has been an “enabler” to the nation’s drug problem. At no time has our industry actively encouraged drug abuse. But perhaps we’ve been guilty of doing the next worst thing: We have publicized and at times glamorized substance abuse as a life style.

Far too often TV’s depiction of substance abuse has been casual or confused. Drinking has been routinely shown as a key to social acceptance; drunkenness has served as dependable source material whenever a cheap joke is needed. Narcotics have been a recurring theme for numerous crime shows in which the “message” seems to be that the bad guys’ mistake was not in getting involved with drugs but in getting caught.

There are those who see nothing wrong in this state of affairs. They argue that since we are in the entertainment business we should limit ourselves to trying to entertain. But there is no such thing as pure entertainment. Everything that we put on the air carries explicit or implicit messages to viewers about human behavior and values. We provide a steady supply of heroes and villains who help fill the pantheon of role models in American culture. Our choices, and how we present them, often become an indelible part of that culture.

Another familiar argument is “Who are we to talk?” It is true that Hollywood has had its share of drug problems and that we are in no position to preach from a pulpit of purity. But there is no industry that does not suffer from chemical addiction among its employees; nationwide, about 1 in 10 workers are drug abusers. However, ours was the first industry in which drug abuse was publicly acknowledged as a problem. Ours should also be among the first to provide national leadership in combating it.

What, then, can we do?

For guidance, we should look at what has been accomplished regarding the depiction of tobacco use. It is virtually impossible to view a television program today in which a character lights up a cigarette. This is not the result of some edict from the government or the networks. The people who make TV shows simply realized that smoking was a bad thing and acted accordingly. Such influences are subtle, they are inexact, but they are real.

Dealing with the issue of substance abuse requires a similar sensitivity. We do not need every series to dutifully turn in a drug episode each season, or every network to do one drug-themed movie-of-the-week. This would be too little and too much. What is needed is an ongoing awareness of the problem that will be reflected in everything that is broadcast. For example, in a crime story about a high-rolling drug pusher, we might show the destroyed, glamorless lives of his clients and the shattered, anguished lives of their loved ones. In soap operas we might avoid the reflexive reaching for a drink every time a character has a crisis. In celebrity interview shows we might steer clear of stars who boast and joke about alcoholism and drug use.

Each and every one of us who works in television has a responsibility. I have told directors and actors that if they don’t approve of the way drug or alcohol use is portrayed in a particular scene, they should insist on changes or refuse to do it. I have told station executives that if an episode of a series does not deal with this issue responsibly, they should refuse to air it and refuse to pay for it. If we all do our part, I am convinced that television can have a meaningful effect in the war against drugs.

But while the television industry brings tremendous strengths to this effort in its power to persuade, it also brings a serious weakness: its reliance on the whims of popularity as the sole criteria for success. I have heard that in some quarters substance abuse is already being dismissed as “last year’s issue.” This disturbs me deeply, for the war on drugs will be a protracted one. If we are to succeed, our efforts will not be measured in overnight ratings or seasonal accountings of winners and losers. Unlike the annual network skirmishes, the drug war is played for keeps, and if it is lost there will be no winners.