CLINTON, TV MAKE LIGHT OF FIRST AMENDMENT

No one invokes the sanctity of the First Amendment more often and more
passionately than the media. When music companies are criticized for
purveying the most repulsive misogynistic rap lyrics, they hoist the First
Amendment flag. When newspaper reporters who've given confidentiality
pledges refuse to testify about their sources, the flag is run up again.

As it should be. For all its abuses, the First Amendment is perhaps the
greatest of all bulwarks against the power of government. It turns out,
however, that the TV networks are not quite the First Amendment purists
they pretend to be. Dangle some cash in front of them and they will let
the White House drug czar vet their scripts.

Salon magazine reported Jan. 13 that in return for being released from the
obligation to show free anti-drug ads (and thus enabled to sell that ad
time), the TV networks have allowed the White House to review prime-time
programs to make sure they send the right anti-drug message.

These networks are parts of some of the same media giants that make
passionate protestations of their sovereign right to purvey syncopated CD
incitement to rape and murder. They are quite willing, however, to accept
government meddling in their prime-time shows if that makes them money.

How much money? There's the howler. The six networks combined sold their
First Amendment soul for a grand total of $25 million, about what Arnold
Schwarzenegger gets for one movie. This for companies with combined
revenues of about $5 billion.

It reminds me of that immortal line in "A Man for All Seasons" in which Sir
Thomas More, condemned to death on the false testimony of his protege
Richard Rich, sees him newly wearing the insignia of attorney general of
Wales. "For Wales?" says More. "Why, Richard, it profits a man nothing to
give his soul for the whole world. But for Wales!"

In reality, this ad-money-for-script-vetting swap is a novel form of
product placement. Product placement is the practice of taking a bundle of
cash from Coke in return for having the hero swig some prominently onscreen.

Disturbing as it is, gratuitously inserting a soda can or cereal box or
muscle car into a scene for money is a trivial form of artistic corruption.
However, inserting government-sponsored messages is not.

Unlike Coke and Kellogg, government has the power to tax, audit, subpoena,
imprison. We allow companies and individuals and groups to put all kinds
of pressure on media--through advertising, boycotts, lobbying. But we balk
when government, with such unique and abusable power, steps in. In a
system where liberty is preserved by the separation and diffusion of power,
we rightly refuse to grant government even more power through control of
the content of free media.

One reason is to prevent slightly Orwellian press releases of the kind
issued by the White House drug office on Jan. 14. It is headlined: "New
Study Finds Little Depiction of Illicit Drugs on Network Prime Time
Television: White House Drug Czar Pleased with Accurate Portrayals." He
should be. He paid for them.

No big deal, you say. This whole affair involves nothing more than
promoting anti-drug messages on prime-time shows. What's so wrong with that?

The big deal is not these particular ads but the principle: government's
hand in mass media script-writing. If that is no big deal, what is to
prevent government from doing it for other causes of its choosing?

President Clinton and his spokesmen were asked whether the vetting of
script s might not be extended to equally worthy messages about "gun
control" and "youth violence" (and why not to recycling, ethnic tolerance,
charitable giving and the correct use of the fork?). The response was not
encouraging.

Press Secretary Joe Lockhart was defiant. We were "looking for other ways
to get the [anti-drug] message out that allows networks in a robust
advertising environment to sell to other people where they can make more
money," he said.

Got a problem with that? Well, yes. Some find the practice corrupting.
And when they asked Lockhart if it does not raise questions about deceptive
government influence, he responded in perfect Clintonian fashion: "As far
as sort of theological questions for the entertainment industry," said
Lockhart, "I suggest you put the questions to the entertainment industry."

But of course. This is surely an airy abstraction for the likes of Thomas
Aquinas, on retainer at DreamWorks.