Celebrity Advocates: Is It Their Role? : It May Be the Actor’s On-Screen Persona That Sells in the Marketplace of Ideas

The star guns of November. . . .

Only recently I was watching Sharon Gless on a talk show promoting her new CBS series, “The Trials of Rosie O’Neill.” Now she’s on TV promoting another cause, appearing in a 30-second spot urging Californians to vote against the so-called “term-limit” initiatives, Propositions 131 and 140, in Tuesday’s election.

I’m confused.

The face of this authority figure I instantly recognize. But in warning, “Don’t be lulled into the term-limit trap,” is Gless speaking as crack lawyer Rosie O’Neill? Or as crack cop Chris Cagney of her former series, “Cagney & Lacey?” Or is Gless speaking as Gless?

Should I vote against these initiatives because Rosie O’Neill is a swell, vulnerable human being? Or because I admired the way Chris Cagney battled alcoholism? Or am I to vote no just because Gless herself says I should?

But I’ve never met Gless. I’ve never spoken to her. I don’t know whether she’s smart or dumb, whether she has studied and understands these ballot initiatives or is merely parroting the opinions of still other people I’ve never met or spoken to.

All I really know about Gless is that she’s an actress. And wow, here’s a terrifying thought: What if another actress, Gless’ “Cagney & Lacey” co-star, Tyne Daly, were to tape a commercial advocating Propositions 131 or 140? Some dilemma this would be. Would I support Cagney or Lacey?

My head is already spinning.

Look, trust me. This column has nothing at all to do with the pros and cons of anything or anyone on the ballot. It has everything to do with the wielding of celebrityhood.

The issue is especially pertinent at a time when Californians are about to navigate a thick maze of ballot measures so complex and confusing that voters may be more vulnerable than usual to video bumper stickers featuring the simplistic urgings of stars.

Peaking when Ronald Reagan was elected President, the mingling of star power and politics goes back years and years. And these days Gless is hardly the only show-business celebrity on California’s TV stump. The list of those taping election spots also includes Michael Landon, Ted Danson, Clint Eastwood, John Ritter, Ali MacGraw, Tracy Nelson, Kyle MacLachlan, Michael Ontkean, Richard Dysart, Lloyd Bridges and Walter Matthau.

Until recently it was “Murder, She Wrote” star Angela Lansbury who was warning viewers not to be lured into the “term-limit trap.” Facing a tide of criticism for starring in a political spot accused in some circles of being misleading, however, Lansbury withdrew as a TV spokesperson for the campaign against Propositions 131 and 140 after claiming she’d been “duped.” Her son and spokesman, David Shaw, was quoted as saying his mother “doesn’t really read newspapers.”

An actress speaking out before doing her homework is an easy target, and it’s tempting to use Lansbury to justify advocating term limits on celebrity political endorsements. However, her debacle is no reason to discourage other celebrities from speaking out on politics or other subjects.

It’s true that a celebrity who trades on his or her favorable public image by taking positions on crucial issues without much thought abuses a trust and deserves criticism.

But let’s apply a best-case scenario to Gless and her fellow celebrity campaigners by assuming that they did indeed study and feel fervently about these election issues before going public with their views.

Let’s assume also that these celebrities understand how fantasy rubs off on real life--they were recruited as spokespeople because of the credibility or likability of their on-camera personas, after all--and that some voters may follow their lead merely because of who they are or the characters they play as actors.

So what? Freedom of speech is a constitutional right. Why shouldn’t these people exploit their persuasiveness as celebrities to advance causes they consider worthy? If you believe in something you go for it, using the tools at your disposal.

The greater responsibility lies with the viewer.

It’s not the celebrity’s fault that there may be some noodles out there--no one knows how many--who inexplicably take their cues from a famous face without knowing even if the face is accompanied by a brain.

That fame alone carries credibility in some quarters reflects the extent to which we have become a celebrity-driven society. We at once whip celebrities--by supporting the tabloids and gossipy TV shows that victimize them--and worship celebrities.

Celebrities speak to us from 30-second spots, telling us how to vote. They speak to us from product commercials, telling us how to look. They speak to us from talk shows, telling us how to live. And celebrity anchors speak to us from their newscasts, telling us what to think. In fact, we are frequently drawn to these newscasts because the anchors are celebrities.

As it was all those years when Robert Young wore his Marcus Welby trustworthiness while prescribing Sanka, or the way it continues to be with Karl Malden donning his San Francisco cop’s credibility to hawk American Express, the celebrity and the role are shrewdly merged for the purpose of making a sale.

Yet coffee and travelers’ checks are hardly of cosmic importance compared with the issues facing Californians on Tuesday’s ballot.

Is that Michael Landon addressing us on screen in behalf of Proposition 128, or is it Jonathan Smith, the wise and benevolent angel of “Highway to Heaven”? Or on the other hand, does it really matter, and why should we heed either of them?

Voters beware: Don’t be lured into the celebrity trap.