The phenomenon of creating a dissident press to effect social change that William Heighton pioneered when he created the first labor newspaper in 1828 did not cease after feminists published their women’s liberation newspapers in the 1970s. Throughout the final years of the twentieth century and the early ones of the twenty-first, social and political insurgents have continued to define their own brand of journalism. From a historian’s perspective, though, sufficient time has not yet elapsed to gauge, with any degree of certainty, the long-term impact of the dissident publications that have appeared during the last thirty years.
And yet, this book would somehow feel incomplete if it did not acknowledge and speak at least briefly, if not conclusively, about two important forces that have emerged during recent decades and that clearly have the potential to challenge the institutions and power relationships that define this nation today: the zine and the Internet.
The author of one book about zines defines them as “non-commercial, nonprofessional, small-circulation magazines which their creators produce, publish, and distribute by themselves.” The roots of these unique publications can be traced back to science fiction fan magazines of the 1930s, but their numbers exploded during the 1980s. As Ronald Reagan set a conservative tone throughout the country, throngs of young people expressed their growing alienation with establishment society by creating an underground communication network of scruffy, inexpensive-to-produce, highly personalized zines. By the 1990s, their ranks had grown to at least 10,000—with some observers placing the figure closer to 50,000.1
Many zines consist of an individual writer’s thoughts on a variety of topics, but others seek to transform society with regard to one specific issue and, therefore, fit securely under the rubric of “voices of revolution.” And with circulations that sometimes have surpassed 25,000, the impact of these grassroots voices of dissent should not be dismissed.2
Brief descriptions of even a handful of the plethora of zines being published today give a flavor of both their diversity and their potential for social change.
Beer Frame is one of the hundreds of publications that focus on the theme that has emerged as perhaps the single most consistent message among zines: Consumerism is out of control. This Brooklyn-based voice of dissent exposes the strategies that some public relations firms devote to developing the hype that has become a seemingly essential element in selling a product. “How many board meetings,” editor Paul Lukas asked, “did they hold to determine what a new item would look like and what it would be called?” Lukas went on to tell his readers that a particular shish kebab marinade called Spiedies tastes no different from dozens of other sauces. But this particular one became an overnight sensation in Binghamton, New York, after a phalanx of well-paid PR flacks came up with the idea of creating a “Spiediefest” to promote the product that climaxed, Lukas wrote, with the crowning of “the acknowledged king of the Spiedie”—the very restaurant that had hired the PR team to begin with.3
Kill Your Television is one of the most ambitious of the multitude of zines, as the tiny publication takes aim at the most powerful medium of communication in the history of humankind. “I had been watching for a long time,” the anonymous editor wrote in one personal confession. “I went to sleep with the TV on, ate in front of it.” But finally came the day, the dissident journalist wrote, when “something way back in my spirit said ‘NO, I won’t take this anymore. This is killing me, and it’s either me or IT’ and so I killed my TV.” The Oberlin, Ohio, editor then went on to describe taking out a toolbox and disassembling the television that previously had dominated her life. By no means does Kill Your Television consist entirely of personal commentary, however, as the editor also praises and reprints the findings of such media watchdog and advocacy groups as Fairness and Accuracy in Reporting and the Center for a New Television.4
Riot Grrrl may be the most popular title in the world of zines, as hundreds of young women across America have attached that name to their written descriptions of their personal encounters with sexual abuse. Such publishing testimonies not only provide catharsis for the authors but simultaneously encourage other women to take precautions to avoid becoming rape victims. “I told him I really didn’t want to,” Diana wrote in her essay, “but I did kiss him.” She went on to describe how the man “kept grabbing and yanking” and asking “Do you give up yet?” until she finally did. After the man forced himself onto her and then ejaculated inside of her, Diana wrote poignantly in her issue of Riot Grrrl, “he handed me my clothes.”5
The second force to burst onto the dissident press landscape in recent years ultimately will have even more impact than the zine. For the Internet is a technological development that is rapidly reshaping all forms of communication to a degree comparable, at least in this author’s mind, to Johannes Gutenberg’s fifteenth-century invention of printing from movable type.
What’s more, several of the Internet’s traits have particularly stunning implications for the dissident press.
■ It dramatically reduces the cost of creating and disseminating information, enabling even people with modest financial resources to become publishers—and, thereby, agents of change.
■ It bypasses the information monopoly, in the form of the mainstream media, that has increasingly become the nemesis of the socially, economically, and politically disenfranchised, offering an alternative to the media conglomerates, such as Time Warner and Disney, that have mushroomed in power and influence in recent years.
■ It allows, through hyperlinks from publications to permanent Websites, for readers to be informed not merely of the most recent event—as in daily newspapers and TV news programs—but to be continually reminded of the movement’s overall mission statement, goals, and past accomplishments—a service that traditional news outlets refuse to provide.
■ It allows individuals in far-flung locations to come together, to share, and to build the strong ties and sense of community—united in ideology even if separated by geographic distance—that foster a true grassroots movement.
So the Internet has become an enormous boon to the dissident press. Some of the anti-establishment voices that began in the 1960s and 1970s, such as Bobby Seale of the Black Panther newspaper and feminists who produced off our backs, have moved into cyberspace; some 500 additional publications are listed on just one Website, Alternative Viewpoints on the Internet. As with zines, brief descriptions of just a few of the thousands of on-line dissident publications give a taste of the range and the possibility that they represent.6
Real Change offers Seattle’s homeless population a monthly voice. “Once you’re homeless, it’s so hard to get a real job,” writes Rainee Maurer, “you don’t have a permanent address or phone number. I don’t really have anything I can put down on a resume since 1989.” Maurer and others do not merely speak, as they also agitate. “We believe people have a right to be angry,” the paper asserts. “We also think we have an obligation to be political.” Since 1994, Real Change has been campaigning for the Washington state welfare system to place more emphasis on job training and for Seattle officials to create more homeless shelters and eliminate the city ordinance that prohibits homeless people from sitting for prolonged periods of time in the downtown area. “We publish quality, socially committed journalism,” the mission statement promises, “and always place the voice of the people first.”7
Earth First! is a radical environmental journal that rejects what it calls “namby-pamby” tactics, such as lobbying and letter writing, in favor of direct action. One activity Earth First! applauds is tree sitting, during which forest conservationists try to stop loggers not by hugging trees—but by living in them. Veteran sitters have such whimsical names as “Moonshadow,” who sits eighty feet up a Colorado spruce, and “Toad,” whose residence of choice is an Oregon redwood. But saving the environment isn’t all fun and games or funny names. In September 1998, David Chain and eight other activists walked into an active timber harvest zone in California. When a falling tree struck the twenty-four-year-old Chain, he was crushed to death.8
The Week Online promotes liberalized drug laws, with particular emphasis on campaigning for marijuana to be legalized for medical purposes. “Patients suffering from AIDS, cancer, glaucoma, multiple sclerosis, and other serious conditions often find that marijuana is the most, sometimes only, effective treatment,” the Washington, D.C., weekly has repeated in every issue since it began publishing. The Week Online also sends its 10,000 subscribers periodic “Action Alerts!”—in red letters that continuously flash on and off the computer screen—to urge them to participate in pro-marijuana rallies around the country.9
While the various on-line voices of dissent have not yet been in existence long enough to permit a definitive assessment of their impact, there is no question that some of the publications have helped advance their causes. When The Week Online began appearing in 1993, medicinal use of marijuana was a concept far beyond the pale of mainstream American life; today, voters in nine states—from Hawaii to Maine, Alaska to Arizona—have legalized the procedure. That dramatic shift in thinking cannot be attributed entirely to the on-line weekly, but neither should the power of a publication that 10,000 Americans have posted to their e-mail every single day be dismissed as irrelevant.10
As a former reporter for a daily newspaper and now a professor who helps prepare young men and women to enter the field of journalism, I want to end this book by making a final point not as much about dissident publications as about the mainstream media that have so often been their detractors.
American journalism is in trouble.
During the second half of the twentieth century, readers abandoned the daily newspaper in droves, many of them being attracted to the convenience and lively format of television news. In the 1990s, legions of Americans deserted not only newspapers but also the major networks, attracted to cable TV, the Internet, and forms of new media that are bursting onto the media landscape every day. Indeed, it has become increasingly murky exactly where people are turning for their news—or if they are simply turning away from news altogether.
In addition, the trust and respect that the American people once had for the institution of journalism has eroded. The public perceives the news media—and with good reason—as seeking out the most negative angle of every story, as invading people’s privacy, and as twisting the facts to suit their own liberal agenda. Contemporary journalists are seen as rude, arrogant, self-righteous, cynical, irresponsible, unpatriotic, and amoral. News media executives seem to be more interested in entertaining their audience and sensationalizing their material than in informing and serving the public good; depending on whether they work for the print or electronic media, journalists seem to be guided by one of two principles: Sell papers or get high ratings. Subsequently, public esteem for journalism has plummeted, threatening the very foundation of one of the pillars of our democratic system of governance.
One place the men and women who determine journalistic values could look for guidance on how to regain a sense of mission is the dissident press. For although many of the publications illuminated in this book can be criticized on various counts, the dissident press has never wavered from being an exemplar of passion, conviction, sacrifice, and commitment to a cause.
Because of dissident journalism’s single-mindedness of purpose combined with an impressive heritage of success, the mainstream news media should stop ignoring the dissident press and start emulating it. A close examination of just the “voices of revolution” that appeared during the middle to late twentieth century offers several lessons that the titans of American journalism need to learn.
The anti-Vietnam War press boldly questioning why the United States was involved in Southeast Asia speaks to the importance of news organizations remaining vigilant in the role as watchdogs over—not bedfellows with—the government. The counterculture press highlighting lifestyle issues that ultimately defined an entire generation of young people suggests that mainstream journalism should look beyond middle-aged politicians and elected officials if it truly wants to reflect the realities of contemporary life. The Black Panther’s commitment to providing a voice for the politically, socially, and economically disenfranchised shows the merits of not focusing exclusively on the dominant segments of society—even if they are the demographic ideal of advertisers. The gay and lesbian press demanding equal rights for sexual minorities demonstrates the virtue of supporting causes that are just and right, despite the fact that many Americans do not yet embrace those beliefs. Several different women’s liberation papers all reprinting the same article because they wanted to reach as many readers as possible suggests that the cutthroat competition that drives the mainstream media—as during the fiasco on election night 2000—may feed their egos but fail to serve their readers and viewers.
Many wags will criticize these suggestions, saying that such a call for mainstream news organizations to travel the path forged by the dissident press ignores all sorts of economic factors. It is true that the proposals I am making are based on an idealistic premise that not everyone shares: Journalism that is substantive in content and strong in backbone ultimately will succeed, prosper, and serve the people. Yes, this may be a lofty goal. But if it is not the goal of the modern-day news media, I question—with considerable despair—if mainstream American journalism is still an institution worthy of saving.