Habermas and Public Sphere

Technological Change

The above overview has already hinted at the importance of technological changes in relation to broadcasting as such (it has been argued that spectrum scarcity is no longer a valid justification of the existence of public service broadcasting, new technologies enable more interactivity etc.) and also in relation to the possibility of creating arenas for public discussions. In relation to the possibility of creating an overarching space for public discussion the Internet immediately comes to mind. A number of politicians understand new technologies as playing a central role in bringing about social and political change (not least a reinvigoration of democracy via e-government). In this respect it is enough to think of Al Gore and Hillary Clinton both of whom envision the World Wide Web as a means for a global conversation that would bring about fundamental change. However, as Robins and Webster (1999) point out this argument is flawed as it presents social problems and inequalities in contemporary societies exclusively in terms of a failure to communicate. Murdock and Golding (2004:245) argue that the Internet appealed to politicians because “as a solution to the problems generated by the accelerating dynamics of marketization and the decline of public welfare systems, it offered several advantages. It was relatively inexpensive in terms of the public investment required, it offered scope for partnerships with private companies, and it could be presented as a creative and forward-looking response to the inevitability of tec hnologically driven change.” John Keane (1991) as well as Tod Gitlin (1998) argue that the World Wide Web is possibly providing the means for the creation of an international civil society and increasing the possibilities for a plurality of publics. Yet, as Gitlin points out, “there is one problem which the new means of communication do not address and may even worsen: the existence of a two-tier society. To those who are information-rich¹⁹ (or information-glutted) shall more information be given” (1998: 172). Murdock (2004) draws attention to the fact that exclusion from the Internet is not only the result of the financial costs involved with being “connected” but also to “feelings of incompetence, symbolic exclusion, and the irrelevance of what is currently on offer”.²⁰

The World Wide Web has been seen as an open, fluid and flexible space that makes direct and immediate contact possible thus facilitating new forms of community in which the basis of social conflict and for that matter difference are overcome.

As far as the Third Way politicians are concerned, virtual technologies promise to make community instantly available, now as a service (or a commodity) that can be piped into the electronic home - community, or interactivity, for domestic consumption. … The politics of connexity seeks to work in harmony with this fortunate and benign logic, “breaking down the barriers and separate identities that have been the main cause of human suffering and war”. The objective is to promote a greater sense of transparency, mutualism and trust- the immediate relations of face-to-face community are a key reference point (we are even told that new technologies promise “direct connection between people’s minds, transcending the idea of separate selves and subjects”) (Robins and Webster, 1999: 231).

A number of authors have written critically in relation to the utopian notions connected with the Internet. For example, Graham Murdock (2004) points out three problems with the Internet. First of all, access to it remains highly stratified (in terms of income, age and education). Secondly, it segments its audience,

taken together these technologies make it entirely possible to only watch what one already enjoys and to only encounter opinions one already agrees with. In a situation where worldviews are increasingly polarised and talking across differences on a basis of knowledge and respect is more vital than ever to a working deliberative system, this hollowing out of collective space presents a major challenge to democratic culture.

And finally, it (just like any other branch of the culture industries) became an arena for corporate activity. Frank Webster (2002:22) points out that “what we have here [in the utopian visions of the Internet] is the assumption that quantitative increases transform – in unspecified ways – into qualitative changes in the social system.” It does not come as a surprise that Habermas (as quoted in Downey and Fenton 2003:189) remains sceptical of the potential embodied in the Internet:

Whereas the growth of systems and networks multiplies possible contacts and exchanges of information, it does not lead per se to the expansion of an intersubjectively shared world and to the discursive interweaving of conceptions of relevance, themes, and contradictions from which political public spheres arise. The consciousness of planning, communicating and acting subjects seems to have simultaneously expanded and fragmented. The publics produced by the Internet remain closed off from one another like global villages. For the present it remains unclear whether an expanding public consciousness, though centered in the lifeworld, nevertheless has the ability to span systematically differentiated contexts, or whether the systemic processes, having become independent, have long since severed their ties with all contexts produced by political communication.

In relation to broadcasting the most significant development is the advent of digitalisation. According to a dictionary entry (Watson and Hill, 1993) digital communication involves “a process whereby the transmission of information – letters and numbers, voice, facsimile or video – is coded into discrete on/off electronic signals, in contrast to analogue transmission in which a signal is a measure of time of a continuous flow of electricity.” To explain this very rigid definition I outline the implications of digitalisation for television. Digital broadcasting involves the transmission of digital signals to a digital television set, these signals can be broadcast over the air or via cable/satellite. “With its brilliant, high-definition images, CD-quality audio, and the possibility of transmitting multiple programs and information simultaneously, the quality of digital television is a vast improvement over the analogue television that most of us experience today” (Jones, 2003: 149). Digitalisation enables the transmission of more visual information (usually an analogue picture has 480 vertical interlaced lines with about 340 horizontal pixels per line, a digital television picture has 1,080 vertical interlaced lines with 1,920 horizontal pixels per line) without increasing the broadcast frequency spectrum as data is in a compressed form (the frequency that carried one analogue television channel can carry at least four digital television services and radio and text services.). The introduction of digital television appears to be a matter of the next few years (US by 2007, Sweden by 2008, Australia by 2009, UK by 2010, EU mostly by 2015; on EU countries and the timing of digital switchover see www.europa.eu.int/information_society/ eeurope/2005/index_en.htm) and public service broadcasters are expected to lead the way in its implementation.

Problems that occur with the implementation of the switchover include huge costs (e.g. Jones 2003 gives an assessment of US system-wide costs of 1.6 billion USD), these, however, involve consumers as well (the need to buy set-top boxes), additional problems include the threat of piracy as well as control over gateways. Mosco (2004: 219) draws attention to the fact that the development of technical standards itself presents significant problems as digitalisation requires the harmonization of the production, distribution and reception of digital signals. In this respect a telling example is that of the UK. In March 2005 the first village – that of Ferryside in Wales, UK – switched to digital. In the UK more than a million set-top boxes were sold over Christmas 2004 bringing their price down from about 100 GBP to 35 – 40 GBP. Yet, the Digital TV Group (which was set up to promote digital television) admitted that “almost half of the transmitters needed to send signals to Freeview set-top boxes are still using old technology and will not be fully upgraded until 2012” (Guardian, 30 March 2005). This means that the quality of pictures on television sets linked to the set-top boxes is poor and it is likely that customers facing this problem will have to spend 300 GBP or more on new aerials and cabling.

On the surface (and despite the above mentioned problems) digital broadcasting seems to be a blessing: it will result in the multiplication of the number of available channels, better quality products, more competition etc. Yet, the initial excitement that surrounded the promise of digital television and in particular of digital terrestrial television²¹ (DTT) did not match actual developments. By 2002 DTT failed in Great Britain (with the collapse of ITV Digital) which seriously jeopardized the British government’s ambition to make Britain the first fully digital television nation by 2010. A closer look at digitalisation clarifies that other issues are at stake as well and that digitalisation certainly does not make public service broadcasting and government regulation in the sphere of broadcasting obsolete, rather the contrary. In an influential public policy report from 1997 Graham and Davies convincingly argue that the introduction of new broadcasting technology will not significantly increase competition and broadcasting will remain highly concentrated. Broadcasting is an example of an economy of scale²² (characterized by high fixed costs and very low marginal costs), with the introduction of digital broadcasting it will turn into an economy of scope (activities in one area decrease costs respectively increase revenues in another area). They alert to the possible monopoly control over gateways as well and argue that with the new technology “under ‘free market’ conditions consumers will face a choice between a narrower range of cheaper (and yet still high quality) broadcasting and a broader range of more expensive and yet lower quality programmes” (1997: 17). The introduction of digitalization will not prevent the continuing fragmentation of the audience, in fact, Graham and Davies argue, this could be achieved by public service broadcasters which is another reason for maintaining (and in fact improving) their services. Murdock (2004) argues in a similar vein: “Public broadcasting also has the capacity to counter fragmentation. Employing programmes, whether watched in real -time or retrieved on-line, to kick-start on-line activities maintains at least a minimal base of shared experience. In addition, web surfing has the capacity to counter the self enclosure of zapping and personalised video recorders. Although mixed programming now often takes second place to crafting distinctive channel identities, a user entering the broadcaster's web site to pursue a particular interest will encounter a wide range of other possibilities, some of which they may be tempted to follow up.”

Graham Murdock (2004) concentrates on the active and positive role that public service broadcasters can play in the creation of a new cultural space, a “digital commons, that can help forge new communal connections and stand against the continual pressure for enclosure coming from commercial interests on the one hand and the new moral essentialism on the other.” However,

developing these resources requires us to abandon our old analogue maps of the cultural industries which depicted a series of stand alone institutions separated by incompatible technologies and compile a digital chart showing public broadcasting as the central node in a new network of public and civil institutions that together make up the digital commons, a linked space defined by its shared refusal of commercial enclosure and its commitment to free and universal access, reciprocity, and collaborative activity. This space is potentially global in scope.

This chapter began with an evaluation of Habermas’ concept of the public sphere which exists (existed) primarily as a discursive space with a distinctly critical role. Despite the various criticisms related to Habermas’ seminal work there are at least three features that are of key importance when assessing public spheres in contemporary societies. Namely: the link between mass media and democracy; material resources required for the public sphere and last but not least the fact that media in their critical role are threatened by both the market as well as the state.

Although Habermas argues that media in contemporary societies create only a pseudo public sphere and arguments have been proposed in relation to the existence of multiple public spheres I focus on public service media (more concretely on public service broadcasting) and the legislative framework related to it to analyze whether legal instruments and regulatory mechanisms reflect any of the above mentioned three dimensions of Habermas’ concept, i.e. public service broadcasting has a critical role to play in relationship to democracy, it must be guaranteed a material base for its existence and be independent from both the state and the market. The reason why public service broadcasting (rather than private one) is crucial for my argument is that it carries a certain “public sphere ethos” due to its very remit and despite the well-documented fragmentation of the audience it has at its core the promise of reaching the most numerous and most diverse audience. Also, public service broadcasting, unlike private media, importantly addresses its audience as citizens – as a polity – rather than purely as consumers. Examples of concrete systems of public service broadcasting illustrate diverse ways of implementing goals that are basically intrinsic to the concept of public service broadcasting (i.e. universal service, accountability, public funding (at least partial), regulation of content and a limited number of service providers).

The chapter has also dealt with the presumed crisis of public service broadcasting, even those who object to the term crisis acknowledge that the last decade has brought a serious questioning (unfortunately often not followed by a public debate) on the role of public service broadcasting in contemporary democracies. This questioning is closely related to the forms and justifications which mark the origins of public service broadcasting (albeit these, as I argued, are often misrepresented and misunderstood) and is also directly linked with a general deregulatory ethos and the emergence of new technologies (digitalization is of major importance in this respect). In particular technological developments have been surrounded by much (unfounded) optimism and hype. From a regulatory point of view the argument that new technologies justify deregulation is utterly unfounded. On the contrary, as I suggested in this chapter and argue in the following ones, there is in fact need for more regulatory rigour. Although digitalization is not proving to be the universal solution that many expected it to be, it certainly provides avenues for the rejuvenation of public service broadcasting – this, though is a huge challenge and, as I argue further, it is not at the least considered by regulators in the cases I deal with.

This chapter in essence provided a probe into the academic debate surrounding public service broadcasting and its roles (among them the creation of a critical discursive space), however, the world of the academia is often miles away from the world of legislators and political elites. My aim in the following chapters is to confront the visions and solid arguments outlined in this chapter with concrete legislative measures related to public service broadcasting in the European Union, the Czech Republic, the Slovak Republic and the Republic of Ireland. Before moving on to the case studies, however, the following chapter considers the general regulatory framework and the most important developments within it in the last fifteen years.

1 In the Czech language the book was published in 2000 under the title Strukturální proměna veřejnosti. Hans Kleibstüber (2001) deals in detail with the question of translating the German term “öffentlichkeit” as “public sphere” and the implications of the use of the term within the European context. He points out that significantly the English term “public sphere” when compared to he original “öffentlichkeit” acquires the character of a spatial metaphor.

2 In literature dealing with the public sphere there appears to be a prevalent use of the term in singular with a definite article. However, as I argue in this chapter, we are actually dealing with a multiplicity of public spheres in contemporary societies.

3 The scope of my argument and the current chapter make it impossible to discuss in detail the distinction between private and public. Drawing upon Jeff Weintraub’s classification Bruce Robbins (1993) outlines four ways in which public is customarily opposed to private. The first one is a liberal-economist model in which the state is defined as the public and the market economy as the private. The second model, also called “republican virtue”, is a model of the public as a community and citizenship, distinct both from the state and the market. The third is a “sociability” model that emphasizes symbolic display and theatrical self-representation but does not deal with collective decision-making or state power. The final model that he offers opposes the private sphere defined largely as the domestic with publicness defined mostly as the economy of wage earners. These distinctions, according to Robbins, point to a number of crucial issues. First of all, “the capitalist economy, which figures as both private (for liberals) and public (for feminists), thus seems to be a crucial place both where the public/private opposition breaks down, and where it demonstrates its resilience as well” (Robbins, 1993:xiv). Secondly, if we accept the public/private divide as “a social construction that is contested and renegotiated over time” (Peiss as quoted in Robbins 1993: xv) then it becomes clear that the line between state and market is also constantly negotiated. Moreover, “no sites are inherently or eternally public … the lines between public and private are perpetually shifting, as are the tactical advantages and disadvantages of finding oneself on one side or the other” (1993: xv).

4 Another strength of the concept of public spheres lies, according to Garnham (1986: 43) in its identification of rationality and universality as key in the democratic political process and the “aspiration to resist the reduction of politics to either simply the clash of power interest, in particular class forces, or to questions of state administration”.

5 In relation to the disadvantaging of subordinate social groups, Nancy Fraser argues that two senses of private often function ideologically to limit the boundaries of the public sphere, the first sense relating to private property in a market economy and the second relating to domestic private life. She argues that due to these particular senses the “result is to enclave certain matters in specialized discursive arenas and thereby to shield them from broadly based debate and contestation” (Fraser, 1997:132). Thus, according to Fraser, even if formal obstructions in participation in public spheres are lifted, “participation may be hedged by conceptions of economic privacy and domestic privacy that delimit the scope of debate. These notions, therefore, are vehicles through which gender and class disadvantages may continue to operate subtextually and informally, even after explicit, formal restrictions have been rescinded” (Fraser, 1997: 132). Iris Marion Young argues that the modern understanding of the public, “creates a conception of citizenship which excludes from public most particular aspects of persons” (1990: 120). She also points out that “the concept of a heterogeneous public implies two political principles: (a) no persons, actions, or aspects of a person’s life should be forced into privacy; and (b) no social institutions or practices should be excluded a priori from being a proper subject for public discussion and expression” (1990:120).

6 Curran (1998) identifies a number of shortcomings with this argument. Firstly, it offers a simplistic view of society as an aggregation of individuals and of government as the seat of power. The role of the media is basically understood as policing the relationship between the individual and the state. Secondly, it does not take account of the ways in which power is exercised through capitalist and patriarchal structures. And finally, classical liberal theory ignores ways in which these interests became organized and collectivized and thus has nothing to say about the ways in which the media can invigorate the structures of liberal democracy.

7 Tod Gitlin observes that the metaphor “the public sphere” is “first of all, singular: it is the sphere, not a sphere” (1998:168, original emphasis). Media, however, present only one public sphere among others. Some commentators prefer to use the term “mass-media public sphere” for a more precise identification (see for example Downey and Fenton, 2003). The distinction between the public sphere and public spheres, however, is not crucial for my argument.

8 McQuail (1992:20) rightly points out the complexities related to the use of the term, yet he agrees with the view that “even if we were to abandon the concept, we would not evade the complexities and problems which are associated with the idea of a public interest. These arise in almost any political or legal debate on issues of wide or deep public significance”.

9 Interestingly, certain medieval occupations were also recognized as “common callings”, these included surgeons, bakers, innkeepers etc., they all involved some kind of general (public) interest which overrode the rules of the free market (McQuail, 1992:21).

10 “Public goods are goods which cannot be appropriated privately. If such a good is supplied, no member of the collectivity can be excluded from its consumption. Therefore public goods must be produced by institutions other than a market economy and distributed by a mechanism different from markets” (Berger as quoted in Raboy 1996:n7)

11 I deal with economic characteristics of broadcasting in more detail in Chapter II.

12 In respect of the financing of public service broadcasting from commercial sources there are two clearly identifiable schools, one of them supports such activities (“the pragmatic approach”), the other does not (“the purist approach”). There is also a third approach, conceptual and structural, according to which certain broadcasting activities can be commercially financed while others cannot. (Raboy 1996: 8) See also Blumler (1993) in relation to policy issues that would safeguard integrity when pragmatic and purist considerations are in clear conflict.

13 Cf. Jakubowicz who works with a different categorization of public service broadcasting systems. Out of his categorization probably the most relevant for my argument is his “attrition model”, which he fears will gradually dominate post-communist countries. The following characterize this model: “PSBs are not allowed to adopt digital technology, develop new channels or services, or indeed operate on the internet in any significant way. This model, proposed by some business quarters, would result in PSBs finally sharing the fate of the dinosaurs as they failed to adapt to new circumstances” (2002: 7).

14 This decline has been understood as a decline in the quality of public service broadcasting as well as a decline in the number of viewers/listeners.

15 In respect of the citizen/consumer divide Habermas makes an interesting point: “One may speak of a refeudalization of the public sphere in yet another, more exact sense. For the kind of integration of mass entertainment with advertising, which in the form of public relations already assumes a ‘political’ character, subjects even the state itself to its code. Because private enterprises evoke in their customers the idea that in their consumption decisions they act in their capacity as citizens, the state has to ‘address’ its citizens like customers. As a result, public authority too competes for publicity.” (1989: 195)

16 On a more general level Hall argues that what we are facing is indeed a “much wider political phenomenon – the crisis of a public philosophy – from which in the last result, it [crisis of public service broadcasting] cannot be separated. We underestimate at our peril the capacity of this ‘market forces’ conception to reshape broadcasting, and its ability to enlist popular support among sections of the general audience against the ‘vested interests’ of the cultural guardians and barons who have dominated broadcasting culture for so long” (1993: 26).

17 Hall (1993: 29) argues that the reason why the public service idea did not perish after the introduction of commercial players in the British media market is twofold. First, although the BBC was funded by a licence fee it was allowed to compete with its commercial competitors and secondly, the public service requirement was imposed on the system as a whole. Thus the British broadcasting market was established in a highly regulated form.

18 Some of the suggested ways of improving public service broadcasting are linked to changing the top-down way in which it operates, in this respect we are reminded of Habermas’ lament over radio and television in preventing the public from “talking back”, from participating in a discussion.

19 In this respect he points out that only 17 per cent of US citizens can access the Internet from their homes.

20 See also Murdock and Golding (2004). Murdock goes on to argue that in the Internet age the role of television should not be underestimated, “because television is a ubiquitous, familiar, and well used presence in everyday life it is less likely to bump up against these symbolic barriers to participation” (2004).

21 There are other than terrestrial means of delivering digital signals (i.e. via satellite or cable) yet DTT is “the most economic means of delivering digital signals to everyone, since it builds on existing transmission networks and achieves penetration levels closely matching existing analogue patterns of reception. It achieves very high population coverage for a relatively small investment, so using the ‘legacy network’ as a primary delivery system meets universal service obligations in a cost-effective way” (Corcoran, 2004: 119).

22 For a more detailed discussion of the economic characteristics of broadcasting see Chapter II.