Waiting for Reality to Set In at the GOP Convention

Americans are clearly captivated by what they perceive to be reality on television, with an average 25 million viewers a week tuning in to the hit “Survivor” on CBS, and as many as 11 million to the same network’s “Big Brother.”

Why, then, are the televised Republican and Democratic national conventions--two events that officially launch the presidential race--such a poor draw with viewers?

The 1996 conventions drew the parties’ lowest TV ratings ever, a slide sure to continue in 2000, based on a recent survey by Harvard’s Vanishing Voter Project. It found that 43% of registered voters were planning to totally snub live TV coverage of this week’s GOP convention in Philadelphia, and that 38% were planning to watch none of the Democrats’ coming meeting in Los Angeles.

It’s boggling, especially, that viewers of reality shows are indifferent to convention telecasts. What could be more real than a major party nominating its presidential candidate across four evenings?

Could it be that reality viewers are out of touch themselves, that they believe that the deficit refers to a shortage of toilet paper in the “Big Brother” house? Or that CNN anchor Leon Harris has no credibility? Didn’t he report from Philadelphia on Monday morning that the opening night of the GOP event in Comcast First Union Center would be “quite a show”? And that the evening speech by soon-to-be-nominated George W. Bush’s wife, Laura, “will be just great, I’m sure”? Didn’t anyone believe Harris?

This must have been what he was talking about.

On C-SPAN, the channel of record, reality hit the fan when a costumed town crier rang a bell and read a proclamation to “the good people of Philadelphia,” before introducing House Speaker J. Dennis Hastert (R--Ill.), who called the convention to order. Then a man in satin breeches and a yellow wig spoke as Thomas Jefferson.

This was not just the party of tradition, though. It was the newer GOP whose message was education and diversity.

So on to the podium came an African American member of the Virginia Legislature, who said about racism, “We Republicans know better.” Then a Native American giving the pledge of allegiance, followed by a Latina singing the national anthem. Then came the “rolling roll call vote”--extended across four nights to keep viewers interested--led by an African American and Latino.

Next came the Latino deputy co-chairman, then two African American singers. Then the new, rowdier Republicans got a taste of a rock band as the camera panned the audience. Where was a finger-snapping coach when you needed one?

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Up next was a video stressing education for African Americans. The reality didn’t end there, for then: “Ladies and gentlemen, live from Comedy Central, Mr. Ben Stein.” Yes, it was former GOP speech writer Stein, now the host of TV’s “Win Ben Stein’s Money,” playing a version of his game show with 1999 Miss America Nicole Johnson. Stein: “Name the state . . . that ranks No. 1 in the nation in teacher quality?” Johnson: “Texas.”

Next came an African American teacher who taught poor students in North Carolina. Then came El Paso Mayor Carlos Ramirez, introducing a video about a program for minority kids in his area run by a Latina. Then came another Latina educator, vowing Bush “will leave no child behind.”

Then came Oklahoma Rep. J.C. Watts Jr., an African American and deputy co-chairman of the convention. He introduced a video profile of a black woman who became the legal guardian of four needy children in conjunction with a program in Detroit.

Then came an Asian American, an African American preaching to his flock in his church, followed by an appearance in the hall of a rousing African American choir swaying and clapping hands as they sang.

It was amazing. The GOP, known as the party of white males, in just four years had become the Grand Old Party of the Gospel Singers. Except for an occasional pan of the audience, you’d have thought there were no more whites in the party.

And yes, soon came black singer Brian McKnight, followed by another video about a program in Palo Alto offering music training to African American children, followed by an appearance of Houston’s Knowledge Is Power Academy and its students of color.

Finally, it was time for Laura Bush, who was followed by retired Army Gen. Colin L. Powell, who was introduced on a satellite by Bush himself. He spoke from a high school classroom in Waterville, Ohio, in front of students sitting quietly at their desks.

But . . . funny thing. It was 10:30 p.m. in Ohio, so what were they doing at their desks at that hour, unless they were props?

Suddenly it was obvious why so few of the viewers of “Survivor” and “Big Brother” would tune into these political conventions. Americans can stand only so much reality.