COVER STORY : Cos and Effect : Bill Cosby’s landmark sitcom, with its emphasis on education and strong adults, gave parents their homes back

Warren Littlefield, the president of NBC Entertainment, still recalls the “initial concept pitch” of “The Cosby Show.” The premise, says Littlefield, who was then working in comedy development for the network, was that “there’s a war going on here between parents and children, and we parents have no intention of losing.”

Not exactly the kind of concept that figured to revolutionize television.

But with the landmark series--the most profitable in TV history--winding up its eight-year run on Thursday with a special one-hour episode, the star and prime mover of the show, Bill Cosby, looked back on his efforts the other day and said in an interview: “From its outset, I wanted to give the house back to the parents.” And that was fairly radical by the conventions of TV sitcoms, in which parents, especially fathers, had often been portrayed as objects of ridicule.

Explaining why he thinks “The Cosby Show” had astonishing appeal to both black and white audiences and to every age group--penetrating so thoroughly that it attracted 53% of the national audience for the entire 1986-87 season--the comedian said:

“You’re talking about a man who is a doctor (Cosby) and his wife (Phylicia Rashad) is a lawyer and they have to handle the children. What people could identify with is the fact that they’re trying to keep their house in order, and these kids are doing some dumb things--and how to deal with it. That’s where you make the identification because the philosophy is: I don’t care how much money you make--you’re going to have to deal with your children.”

When all is said and done, “The Cosby Show”--which transformed lowly NBC into a show business colossus, regenerated network television and brought TV comedy back from the dead--really had two thematic priorities above all: parenting and the value of education, presented with gentle humor. For Cosby and Rashad, their roles as Cliff and Clair Huxtable were defined by their depiction as parents, even more than by their relationship as a clearly loving husband and wife.

These priorities come together in Thursday’s finale, in which the Huxtables’ son, Theo (Malcolm-Jamal Warner), graduates from college in New York, where the series was set and shot. It is an episode that brings the series full circle because the story line for the very first episode of the show on Sept. 20, 1984, was: “Theo brings home a poor report card and claims you don’t need good grades to get a job.” In a classic scene using Monopoly money, Cliff demonstrated the fault with his son’s logic.

In the script for the last show, Clair tells Theo as he prepares for his graduation: “It goes back 21 years to when you were born. . . . He (Cliff) promised you an education. And he hoped that you would have the same love for learning that he does.”

The finale is getting the red-carpet treatment from NBC, which will tack on a three-minute tribute to the program. In addition, in a nice bit of cross-promotion and perspective on the series, the stations that air reruns of “The Cosby Show”--including KCOP Channel 13--plan to present the program’s first episode on the same day that the network presents the last, according to Viacom Entertainment, which distributes the repeat broadcasts.

Only Fox TV is acting as spoiler for the “Cosby” farewell. With the May ratings sweeps in progress, there is little room for sentiment in TV, and Fox will counter-program “Cosby” with two repeat episodes of “The Simpsons,” which has lately been giving the once-unbeatable NBC series a rough time in head-on competition, with its hard-edged, contemporary cartoon family that is the direct antithesis of the warm, traditional Huxtables.

Until “The Simpsons” came along, the main problem facing “The Cosby Show” was the occasional criticism that it did not deal strongly enough with racial and social issues involving blacks and was not representative of black families--as if white families in sitcoms were representative of all white families.

In 1985, after the program’s first season, the late Alex Haley, whose “Roots” miniseries raised national consciousness about black history and racism, wrote admiringly about “The Cosby Show” in the Ladies’ Home Journal, noting that the comedy’s “appeal, and its laughs, depend less on one-liners and intricate plots than on the affectionate ribbing between family members.”

Yet in 1986, in an article that also found much to admire about the series, Mary Helen Washington, an associate professor of English at the University of Massachusetts, Boston, raised the criticism again in TV Guide: “How is it that the show is progressive enough to deal with sexism, but never mentions racism?”

Asked if he thought his show would have been as popular if it had been more overtly aggressive on racial and political issues, Cosby says: “No. Because I don’t know how to do that without getting angry at racial bigotry. That’s not funny to me.”

“Cosby had a kind of bully pulpit for sermonizing,” says Larry Bobo, an associate professor of sociology at UCLA and a specialist in racial attitudes and stereotypes, “but I’m not sure that would have been effective or lasted that long. And in the long run, the show may be most valuable in providing an image of an all-American black American.

“It also showed people who were tolerant, who could value Afro-American achievements and not be hostile to other groups and their achievements. And in that regard, (the program) showed an esteem for Afro-American culture that almost never emerges on television.”

Jim Johnson, a UCLA professor who is an authority on urban poverty, thinks the show “had a very positive effect” and was “excellent entertainment,” but adds: “You didn’t see Cosby and his wife in their work environment daily, and that’s where we confront racial discrimination, in workplace issues--what it takes, for instance, for a black to get promoted as opposed to what it takes for a white to get promoted.”

But for Cynthia Amos, who teaches English language arts at Foshay Junior High School in Los Angeles, “The Cosby Show” and its Cosby-overseen spinoff, “A Different World”--set at a black college--have been godsends when it comes to encouraging her minority students to seek higher educations.

Amos works at USC with a neighborhood academic initiative program, in which, she explains, children about 12 or 13 years of age take courses under a six-year plan aimed at eventually helping boost their SAT scores and grade-point averages so they may earn scholarships to the university.

The teacher says that her students’ “No. 1 show is ‘Cosby’ and No. 2 is ‘A Different World,’ and their expectations of life and their own possibilities have changed. They see college as a viable alternative. They know now at 12 what they have to do to get into college by 18. It’s not an unreachable goal anymore: ‘Yeah, I’m going to go to college.’ A lot of their discussions springboard from what they see on television: What’s a fraternity, a sorority? What’s a BA? I’ve never had questions like that as much before.”

“Applications to Afro-American colleges went up dramatically (since the two shows have been on),” Cosby says. “You’ve got to figure we made a heck of an impression on people who wanted to go to college, young people who saw that ‘Yes, this is positive.’ ”

As an entertainment program, it has hardly been fair to expect “The Cosby Show” to solve the ills of society, despite its positive messages and contributions. And Cosby makes clear that he does not see racial issues, on TV or elsewhere, through rose-colored glasses despite the monumental success of his series.

“For instance,” he says, “I watched the stuff about Arthur Ashe (the former tennis star who disclosed he has AIDS). And on ESPN, they were praising Arthur, and they said he did a lot of things for his race and he’s a man who spoke up for black causes. They never called him an American. So you’re still dealing with the mystique that black people, African-Americans, are not Americans. It’s a problem.

“And so bringing Cliff and Clair and the family out, I wanted to show people the reality that there are African-American families with people who’ve graduated from college, they’ve married, both are professional. And I wanted to leave all of that anger and controversy outside of that door. I wanted to show people getting along--positive.

“If you look at ‘Murphy Brown’ or turn on ‘Cheers’ after 10 seasons, how do people justify no chaos, no controversy in terms of race relations and dealing with it? So there’s no need to rap my show if you’re not going to make the others behave accordingly. You can’t have two sets of standards. Well, you can, but I’m not gonna play by ‘em.”

In all the analysis of “The Cosby Show,” the most obvious fact about its success is the simple, often-overlooked point that Cosby is just funny as hell. And in between his initial TV triumph in the “I Spy” series and “The Cosby Show,” he managed--despite three other prime-time series that didn’t make it--to build a remarkably admirable image with his family-based comedy monologues on albums and in clubs; his commercials with children, with whom he showed great rapport; and his own pursuit of higher education.

It all came together at the right time, and the residual public goodwill enabled him to take off like a shot in “The Cosby Show,” which, he says, “was really based on the monologues. I thought, ‘Just let me get enough people to keep us on the air because I have something to say.’ ”

His method was to work in quiet ways and let the obvious speak for itself--the black family setting, for instance.

“It seems to me that the color can be seen,” he says. “They know who we are. And the beauty of it is, you can see a show that’s very relaxed. In the problems Cliff and Clair are having, we can’t go into 23 minutes of ‘Vanessa (one of the Huxtable daughters) becomes a drug addict.’ We can’t do 23 minutes of ‘Theo gets busted, wrongful identification.’ Not in a half-hour sitcom. Who really takes that seriously?

“We did a hell of a job when we talked about sexual responsibility, protection. And we also dealt seriously with the female learning how to say no to a guy, even if he says, ‘If you’re really in love with me, prove it.’ ”

There were other quiet moves that delivered the message that Cosby was using his series to right some wrongs--giving important black musical artists such as Lena Horne, Dizzy Gillespie, Joe Williams, Betty Carter, Stevie Wonder, B. B. King, Sandman Sims and Mavis Staples the incomparable showcase of his huge prime-time hit.

“It was very important to me,” Cosby says. “A woman like (jazz singer) Betty Carter--to put her on and let her do her number. But you can never take for granted, man, that this would go on automatically, because even though there’s a great deal of power when you’re sitting at No. 1, No. 2, there are also some people who don’t understand it.”

For instance?

“Well, like the South Africa thing,” he says--the episode in which a sign on a door said “Abolish Apartheid.”

Recalls Cosby: “I felt that the sign was big enough or small enough that if someone watching the show was looking, it wouldn’t interrupt the flow of where we were going. And somebody (a network official) recognized the sign and said, ‘We think the sign should come down.’ And I said, ‘Why?’ And they said, ‘Well, you know, there’s a great deal of controversy about this.’ I said, ‘About apartheid? There’s controversy?’ I said, ‘Go over and take it down and when the camera rolls, if that sign is not up there, then there’s no show.’ ”

With its trademark understatement, “The Cosby Show” continued to make its points along the way. Black art adorned the background. The twins of the Huxtables’ eldest daughter were named Winnie and Nelson, after the Mandelas. And in its third season, when its ratings peaked--one episode drew 82 million viewers--there was also a show in which Theo learned how deeply the civil rights movement and a march on Washington touched his parents and grandparents.

The story was brought “right into the living room,” Cosby notes. “We brought white people in there as well so it would have the correct kind of flavor. Because as quiet as it’s kept, man, you know (abolitionist) John Brown was white--and (so were) a great number of his followers. Many of the traditionally historical African-American colleges were founded by Caucasian people who decided that the slaves should at least learn how to read and write.”

For Quincy Jones, executive producer of another black NBC series, “Fresh Prince of Bel Air,” the Cosby program “destroyed a lot of stereotypes and broadened viewers’ attitudes toward black families. Let’s be real, man. It was on top for eight years.” For UCLA’s Bobo, the series was “a refreshing antidote to the typical image of blacks in media: It didn’t focus on subservient roles, involvement in crime and blacks kind of playing exaggerated clowns.”

But, adds Bobo, speaking of Cosby as “the archetypal good dad,” it was also as if “the Ozzie Nelson of the ‘80s was black.”

“It makes me wonder if the show in some way didn’t encourage a break between the real world and the television world,” he says. “It’s possible that it was so far removed from stereotypical assumptions that it was completely non-threatening and comfortable. And yet, its longevity indicates that there was something more than being safe that made it successful. It had to engage people at some level.”

UCLA’s Johnson notes, however, that during the conservative, Reagan-era 1980s, when “The Cosby Show” flourished, “schisms within the black community--between the middle class and the so-called underclass--began to widen.” Thus it seems significant that a new series that Cosby is producing, starring his TV son Warner as a psychologist who works with underclass youngsters, addresses that very arena that was foreign to his own show.

Cosby speaks with fervor of “what I’m trying to achieve” in producing Warner’s new series: “I want people to understand that these kids living in a lower economic area, the underclass, have all of these things against (them). There needs to be some help in this area. We need to have behavioral scientists who are willing to work with these kids and help them to understand themselves better.”

As the Huxtables prepare to depart NBC, it is fair to ask whether America is better for having watched “The Cosby Show.” Aside from the laughter, and despite the argument that it was only entertainment, the answer is certainly yes.

Above all, it practiced and encouraged civil behavior, an uncommon sight on television these days. And it showed by example that such behavior is not exclusive to any race. “The Cosby Show” didn’t stop inner-city crime, but then again, the TV news staff of “Murphy Brown” didn’t halt the savings-and-loan scandal, the check-cashing scam in Congress or the Gulf War.

“The Cosby Show” was the TV series of the 1980s--with ratings that were 20% higher than another monumental hit, runner-up “60 Minutes.” Cosby and his troupe were No. 1 for four consecutive years. They made viewers happy, and they made so many people so rich that it is almost impossible to calculate the total. In syndication alone, two sales of the reruns have thus far brought in about $800 million--dwarfing the box-office receipts of even the biggest movie hits.

And that’s just the start. Because of the “Cosby” lead-in, series such as “Family Ties,” “A Different World,” “Cheers,” “Night Court” and “L.A. Law” got tremendous boosts that helped turn each of them into gold mines as well. The William Morris Agency, which represents Cosby, probably never earned more money from any other client. Powered by “The Cosby Show,” NBC ruled TV for six consecutive seasons; it was a “lightning rod,” Littlefield says.

In retrospect, the Cosby series may well have been the traditional networks’ last great fireworks show as they fade into the new, fragmented world of TV alternatives.

It was such a simple idea. And it is summarized exquisitely by Cliff Huxtable in a moment from NBC’s tribute to the series on Thursday’s finale. “You don’t realize,” says Cliff, “how hard we’ve worked to try and get all of these children out of this house.”