Showing posts with label Pacifica History. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pacifica History. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 13, 2020

Planet Pacifica: Power & Politics Inside America’s Progressive Radio Network

Greg Guma’s examination of the original listener-supported radio network and challenges facing progressive media in an age of deception and decline in the credibility of journalism



New eBook now available: 

The Road to Berkeley
Pacifica’s beginnings, a brief history of radio and TV, and how the author became a CEO


In the Bubble
Constraints, conspiracies, more Pacifica history, and an early assessment


A Listening Tour: February-March 2006


Real Life


Postscripts


Afterword: State of the News Media 2008

Reviews by Pacifica Leaders

Greg Guma's journalistic eye precisely captures the essence of contemporary Pacifica as it stuggles with its own contradictions and the proliferation of competing media alternatives to re-establish a relevancy and significance slowly surrendered over the years in accommodation to the tantrums of strong personalities and the ethical compromises of identity-based politics…

Greg Guma's important inside narrative of a critical recent transitional period in Pacifica's complex history is an excellent read, well-contextualizing whatever chapters remain in Pacifica's uncertain future.
--Terry Goodman
*
What makes Greg Guma's new blog so extraordinary is that he is the first executive in Pacifica who has been willing, and able, to share his experiences…. I think that Greg's articles on his experiences at, and observations on Pacifica have been a real gift to the network. They ought to be required reading for all the PNB and LSB members. 

And for me, personally, they have been a tremendous validation of all sorts of observations and concerns that I have been expressing on the discussion lists for years, so for that I am very grateful to Greg for compiling all these stories.
-- Nalini Lasiewicz

While serving on the Pacifica Radio National Board I not only developed a real respect for Greg Guma and his leadership of the network and Foundation as executive director, but I worked in a faction of the Board at that time which tried to consolidate more responsibilities in that office. We wanted to give appropriate power and oversight to the Pacifica national executive director so that decisions on the day-to-day operations of the network could be made more effectively.
--Don White

Updated 6/09

Thursday, October 1, 2015

Pacifica Radio: What Went Wrong?

In late 2008, faced with layoffs, a crash crunch, lawsuits, and a long-term decline in listenership, the National Board of Pacifica Radio, the original listener-supported network, decided to seek a $1 million dollar loan, reportedly using station assets as collateral.

In response, Ricco Ross, chair of Los Angeles station KPFK-FM’s Local Board wrote to Chief Financial Officer Lonnie Hicks and the National Board, calling for greater transparency and consultation in such decision making, and asking sister stations in Berkeley, New York, Houston, and Washington, DC to stand with KPFK against the action.

The letter concluded: "This appropriation of station assets without notice and consultation sets a precedent that endangers every station in Pacifica." A motion passed by the KPFK LSB called for the National Board “to require a repair and repayment plan as a condition for its approval of any collateralized loan agreement." Almost a third of the loan would go toward payment of a smaller loan obtained the previous summer.

Since August, the organization’s Executive Director and Human Resources Director had resigned, staff was reduced at most stations, and many national staff positions were cut. On the other hand, CFO Hicks returned to work in October after a three month leave of absence. A new ED job description was written, but the search had yet to begin. Meanwhile, discussion forums speculated about receivership, bankruptcy, and breaking up the network. National Board Members and most managers remained silent.

At KPFA, the resignation of Business Manager Lois Withers was announced. According to an editorial posting on Pacificana, a KPFA-based online forum, “While Ms. Withers is known by many as capable and responsible in her position as Business Manager, the more recent memory of her tenure was marred by her role in escalating a simple volunteer matter into a disproportionate action of calling the Berkeley Police into the KPFA building and exacting violence on volunteer programmer, Nadra Foster. The original charges? Using the phones, and printing paper.”

A dispute also brewed over the KPFA Local Station Board’s decision to hold its November monthly meeting outside of the local signal area, along with postponement of the next meeting until January 2009. In New York, a lawsuit over the 2007 station board elections at WBAI had yet to be settled. Other lawsuits against stations and the network drove up legal costs. In Washington, DC, questions were being asked about the financial results of a 30th anniversary gala for WPFW.

Nevertheless, compared with recent news about station collapse and a phantom foundation set up to salvage what's left after bankruptcy and investigations, those were the good old days.

Such developments bring to mind my last in-person words to the PNB as Executive Director, delivered at a quarterly meeting in Los Angeles on July 27, 2007. I’d just come to an agreement with the Board on the terms of my departure; I’d offered to remain on the job until a thorough search could be done, and to help with a transition, but the Board passed on that option. Still, many of the problems and issues being discussed were addressed in that 12-minute report. It was, in abbreviated form, my basic assessment of Pacifica’s situation.

A financial crisis was likely and imminent, I said, but much could be done. Specific proposals to reform and revitalize Pacifica – many under discussion for years – were presented again. In short, the diagnosis was public and a plan was on the table. But some in governance and management weren’t persuaded, enough at least to make timely action next to impossible. Here’s what I said:

Report to the PNB, July 27, 2007

When I applied for this job, some of the Board members said that they were impressed with the fact that I’d studied the organization and its problems pretty seriously, and, in a sense, I got here by examining Pacifica as a journalist might and reflecting back to the Board what I’d found. Since then, however, there has been at times less interest in what I’ve learned by actually doing the job, and, at times, also limited enthusiasm for some of my proposals to address the problems that I’ve identified. But so it goes.

For the record, however, I’ve made several proposals and would like to reiterate them. I’ve suggested management reorganization, including more accountability of local management to national priorities and standards. There has been some controversy about that. I’ve advocated more aggressive and coordinated national programming, including a new national program and local programs carried by all sister stations, and national editorial priorities that are reflected in programming across the network. I’ve suggested that, like any other news organization, this one should have editorial priorities which change as circumstances change. Right now, I believe that those editorial priorities ought to be: ending the war on terror, health care for all, a restoration of democracy, and building ecological security. That is not to say that other issues and sub-issues are not also important. But these represent issues of great national concern, and which would – if reflected in national programming -- distinguish Pacifica as an independent radio network.

I have also argued for a serious investment, more serious than we have been able to provide so far, to technological re-tooling, including Internet channels with interactive content, more investment in new equipment, and increased distribution that empowers more listeners. I’ve suggested – and we are making some progress on this – more coordinated marketing and promotion with a serious and consolidated development and outreach budget, and training for affiliate stations. And finally, increased leadership within the independent media community, and work with other organizations on free speech campaigns.

But how has it gone? Slowly. Management organization has run up against concerns about local autonomy and, I think, a suspicion about the possibility that there could be another national power grab. Collaborative programming – we’ve made some improvements there, but there remains a sentiment that each station should control its own airwaves and that substantive changes should never be made without a long, thorough and, some would say, seemingly interminable process of consultation with many stakeholders.

Technological investment has been delayed by a tendency to create budgets from the bottom up, an approach that leaves overall issues that concern the national organization for last, and makes reductions in spending on network-wide needs the easiest solution when money is tight, as it is now. And coordinated marketing, which has been discussed with the term “branding,” has also proven difficult in an organization where no one really speaks for the organization without fear of being blindsided from within. There is not much consensus about image, except perhaps to be a passionate cheerleader for every good cause that comes along. I’m not denigrating those things, but a laundry list of causes is not a very effective way to market a radio network.

Meanwhile, Pacifica is grappling with several crucial issues: Adapting to fundamental changes in audio distribution, declining listenership and the erosion of Pacifica’s traditional revenue source, and, after five years with a new experimental structure, the need to make some serious adjustments. The current digital distribution project is an attempt to address one of these issues, and election-related bylaws changes acknowledge and address another. But declining audience and listener loyalty can only be fully addressed by looking hard at programming, and this is linked to unresolved questions about Pacifica’s mission and organizational structure.

Our CFO predicts that Pacifica is facing contraction and a cash crunch in the near future. But even if that doesn’t happen, and can be avoided in the next few months, the underlying problems remain and will resurface.

Earlier, I’ve mentioned that a re-evaluation of Pacifica’s mission is in order. This mission dates from Lew Hill’s 1946 prospectus for KPFA, arguably still the most crucial document in the organization’s history. One the key parts said that Pacifica would “engage in any activity that shall contribute to a lasting understanding between nations and between individuals of all nations, races, creeds, and colors; gather and disseminate information on the causes of conflicts between any and all such groups; and promote the study of political and economic problems, and the causes of religious, philosophical, and racial antagonisms.”

You know these words. This remains a fundamental philosophical statement for Pacifica. The idea behind these words is that peace can emerge from dialogue – that is, diverse groups openly communicating with one another. Not objective indisputable truth – none of us have that – an open exchange of ideas that helps us to know each other as human beings, dialogue that demonstrates the possibility that we can have peace in practice.

But today, too often, we have instead argument, an often angry struggle over ideology, airtime, and assigning blame that keeps Pacifica from creating constructive connections between people. On top of that we sometimes even have censorship; self-censorship actually, groupthink, avoidance of tough but necessary disagreement. So, I repeat: Pacifica’s mission needs serious study and reflection, a real long-overdue dialogue about the fundamental intentions of this organization – in this time.

The organization also needs a serious look at democracy as it is being practiced here. I hear it said that Pacifica is a “bold experiment,” a representative democracy of listeners. But to me it looks very much like a confederation, a very tentative association of communities –the stations – that view themselves as relatively sovereign, and operate under a common constitution – the bylaws – but with a weak central authority – the national office. My experience is that this structure makes it difficult to reach decisions, and to ensure that, even when decisions are made, that they’re actually carried out. It’s difficult to make even the simplest bylaw amendment, for example to increase efficiency, save money, or improve continuity.

The national organization is, by design, dependent on the stations, which view themselves as semi-independent. Without local cooperation and agreement, the central organization can’t provide essential services, and as a result, the funding of priorities like research, national infrastructure, development, and marketing is consistently neglected. In some quarters there is open hostility to the national organization, as if it’s some kind of parasite feeding off the stations. Therefore, it’s not very surprising that some managers and staff sometimes refuse to implement decisions made by the national board or national office.

In short, what I am saying, and what I have been saying for a year and a half, is that Pacifica’s confederal structure doesn’t work. For democracy to function compromise is essential. A minority that loses will only play along if it feels that the winning side is playing fair. This becomes difficult when groups adopt a stance of moral absolutism, or form factions. And we see both here. When factional disagreement becomes public and intense, the organization suffers from disunity, charges and counter-charges about the conduct of the elections, fraudulent or unethical conduct, and repeated attacks on so-called enemies. This is beginning to seriously undermine the legitimacy of the organization’s democratic process.

So, I ask you once again, as I asked when I traveled across the country: Are we running a media organization, or are we trying to build an alternative government? I hope it’s the former. ...

I don’t expect everyone to agree with my assessment of the situation, but I think it would be irresponsible if, after two years, I didn’t share with this community what I’ve learned and some of the reasons why I am leaving. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe a new Executive Director can make this organization work just as it is. I hope so, and I’ve greatly appreciated the opportunity to help. Pacifica remains, despite everything I’ve said, a unique and important institution, and I sincerely hope it will continue to make a significant contribution to lasting understanding between nations and people in the years ahead.

FURTHER PACIFICA READING: Check out Quiet Meltdown for more on the crisis; Planet Pacifica is the inside story of my early months as CEO, combined with episodes from Pacifica’s history. AUDIO: Report to the PNB, Greg Guma, July 27, 2007.

Sunday, March 30, 2014

The Legend That Lost Its Way: How Pacifica Split

In January 1960, Harold Winkler, Pacifica Radio’s president and KPFA station manager, received an unusual phone call from New York. A former political science professor at the University of California, Winkler had resigned in protest over a required loyalty oath for faculty members. He was also independently wealthy. On the other end of the line was Louis Schweitzer, a Russian-born millionaire, radio station owner, and also a president – in his case president of the Peter Schweitzer Division of Kimberly-Clark. He knew about Pacifica and had a radical proposition.
     A few years before, the eccentric radio enthusiast had bought a station for $34,000, subsequently offering New York City the latest music and some intelligent programs. But he found the choice between losing money on quality and making a profit by going more commercial personally frustrating and philosophically untenable. To his dismay, the station’s greatest success had come during a New York newspaper strike. “That was not what I wanted at all,” he told Winkler. “I saw that if the station ever succeeded, it would be a failure."
     So, he asked, did Pacifica want it?
     For a decade, KPFA in Berkeley had been the only listener-sponsored radio station in the country. But after planning for four years and raising $200,000, the Pacifica Foundation had recently launched a second station – KPFK in Los Angeles – an independent operation with its own board, station manager, and local base of supporters. Now, without paying anything, it could own a completely equipped FM station in the Big Apple, smack dab in the middle of the FM dial. It was a no-brainer.
     The station that ultimately became WBAI began lower on the dial in 1941 as WABF, a commercial station, but moved to the 99.5 frequency in 1948. In the early 1950s it was off the air for two years, but came back in 1955 with call letters that reflected the name of its current owner, Broadcast Associates, Inc. By the time Schweitzer made his donation, it was worth about $200,000.
      With KPFK and WBAI, Pacifica expanded from a single station into a network reaching three major metropolitan areas with a potential audience of sixty million people. But along with growth came challenges for which the organization was largely unprepared.
     Driving into New York City in February 2006, on the first leg of my orientation tour as Pacifica Executive Director, I thought about WBAI’s past. It was once one of the most innovative stations in broadcast history, winning awards for its civil rights coverage and helping to define the counterculture. In 1965, it sent the first American reporter, Chris Koch, to cover the war from North Vietnam. Combining resources with the other Pacifica stations, it broadcast live anti-war teach-ins. At a time when even the underground press wasn’t receptive to feminism, it put Nanette Rainone’s groundbreaking show “CR” on the air. When Columbia students seized the campus in 1968, it covered the occupation uninterrupted.
     There was also Bob Fass’s “Radio Unnameable,” a weekend collage of music, poetry and talk, radio’s version of the underground press. Identifying with the counterculture and anti-war movement, Fass took his mike out to demonstrations and invited movement leaders into the studio to discuss their plans. He ran the show like a telephone switchboard, connecting people and getting them involved. He broke the mold and invented something new – freeform radio.
With a transmitter at the Empire State Building, a signal that reached far beyond the city limits and a roster of on-air voices second to none, the station’s influence was profound in its day. But now it was at war with itself. It was like the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, said programmer Ibrahim Gonzales, “complete with endless debates over the right of return, over who held the rights to a time slot.” As managers and hosts came at one another with lawsuits, purges, and fights over race and ideology, its audience was drifting away.
    In 2005, amidst charges of mismanagement, favoritism, and partisan games, Station Manager Don Rojas had resigned. Business manager Indra Hardat was placed temporarily in charge as the local board searched for a permanent replacement. Nine months later, when I started my cross-country trip, she was still on the job. But the real power was in the hands of Program Director Bernard White.
    Like many key players, Bernard had been with Pacifica for decades, Raised in Harlem, he studied at Queens College and held a variety of jobs, including New York school teacher, before turning to radio journalism in 1978. For several years he shared the mike weekday mornings with Amy Goodman on “Wake Up Call,” then became WBAI’s Interim Program Director in 1999 after the untimely death of Samori Marksman, a beloved and cosmopolitan Pan-Africanist. The following year, in a controversial move, General Manager Valerie Van Isler chose him for permanent PD over Utrice Lead, a flamboyant Trinidad native. By year’s end, however, Bernard was fired, a casualty of Pacifica’s “Christmas Coup.” Central management and the National Board had taken over the station, changed the locks, fired Van Isler, installed Leid as interim GM, and given a list of “banned” employees to the security guards.
     Bernard and two dozen others who were fired during the “hijack” period, as it was labeled by those organizing against the people in charge, returned to WBAI in 2002. But his tenure as program director since then had been stormy. Bernard had solid backing from the Justice and Unity Coalition, the strongest faction on the local board, which considered him a determined anti-racist who put “activist” voices on the air. Amy Goodman thought of him as a comrade and friend. To his opponents, however, he was a Tammany Hall-style demagogue who abused his position, dismissed popular hosts like investigative journalist Robert Knight and health guru Gary Null, commandeered the airwaves to criticize his opponents, and frequently played the “race card” himself. Basically, they blamed him for the station’s listener and financial decline.
     Whatever the reasons, station membership had dropped by 20 percent since the previous year, according to industry and management figures. On-air fund drives ran longer and longer, and brought in less money per day.

Part One of Pacifica Radio: A Listening Tour

  • Next: Facing the Factions

Saturday, March 22, 2014

Pacifica Radio’s Progressive Meltdown Continues

The Pacifica Foundation, a community radio network that includes WBAI-FM in New York, has dismissed its executive director, the latest tumultuous step for an organization that has been plagued by financial problems and acrimonious turnover among its management.

Summer Reese, who was named executive director in November after doing the job on an interim basis for more than a year, was fired by Pacifica’s national board on Thursday. In a brief statement on Friday, the board confirmed the move and thanked Ms. Reese “for her service to date,” but gave no explanation.

Ms. Reese’s dismissal is the latest in a series of changes in recent years that have destabilized Pacifica and its five stations. In August, WBAI, which operates a powerful signal at 99.5 FM but is millions of dollars in debt, laid off 19 of its 29 employees, including the entire news staff. The station, which is supported almost entirely by listener donations, has since been through two program directors and struggled publicly with its fund-raising.
- New York Times, March 18, 2014

"According to a media release Monday morning, Reese and a small group of supporters removed a padlock installed at Pacifica’s offices the previous day and “informed staffers that business would continue as usual.” (Tracy) Rosenberg claims the firing was illegal because of the three-year contract held by Reese, adding that she has “no doubt” that the board was planning to fire Reese for political reasons.
- Paul DeRienzo
The forces currently aligned with Summer Reese, including Gary Null, and with Bernard White, Lydia Brazon and Dan Siegel were already engaged in a long-term struggle by the time I arrived in January 2006. Many of the players still remain the same, and "takeover" rumors are currently being circulated by both factions. 

Contract issues were also involved in my departure, although I ultimately chose to leave rather than extend what was becoming a stalemate. Essentially the same leadership that retook control of the PNB and dismissed Reese urged my early departure and the selection of Nicole Sawaya (without interviewing any other candidates). Not a great transition, as it turned out, and entirely avoidable.

That said, no one faction is exclusively responsible for the network's decline. But snap dismissals are no better than bolt cutters in solving Pacifica's real problem - a crippling deficit of trust. In light of recent developments, I thought these 2010 reflections might be relevant...

A lot has happened since I left my job as Pacifica Radio’s Executive Director at the end of 2007. Almost a decade after she was abruptly fired former KPFA General Manager Nicole Sawaya returned as my replacement with enthusiastic support from the Board and community – but resigned twice over the next year. As the network approached its 60th anniversary it faced the most serious organizational and financial crisis in years. On-air fund drives, which bring in over 80 percent of the network’s income, weren’t meeting their goals, most stations had meager cash reserves, and WBAI was a half a million behind its target and mired in an internal power struggle that had been building for several years.

According to Casey Peters, Pacifica’s National Election Supervisor in 2007, a “vacuum of power” developed after my departure. “With obvious instability at the top,” he wrote in his final report, “the election campaigns descended into chaos.” When he tried to meet with Sawaya to discuss the process, she declined and told him “she opposed Pacifica Bylaws provisions for elected boards.”

The problems intensified further when Sawaya resigned and corporate counsel Dan Siegel stepped in. “He applied intimidation regarding the still-pending certification of KPFA results,” Peters claimed, “telling me that I would be fired if I did not do so promptly. The problem was that criteria for certification had not been met due to irregularities in the campaign.” Peters came to believe that Siegel was attempting to control the outcome of the vote. On March 13, 2008, as Peters was about to fly to New York for the WBAI vote count he received a message from Chief Financial Officer Lonnie Hicks. The word was that Siegel didn’t want him counting votes in New York. Furthermore, he was being fired.

A few days later, according to Peters’ account, Siegel entered his home without notice and startled his wife. “His intent was to confiscate election equipment and materials,” Peters wrote. “Siegel had apparently been drinking, and sat in a rented SUV flashing his headlights into our bedroom. Marilyn called the police to stop the harassment. We seriously considered pressing trespass and assault charges, but felt any publicity about the incident would not look good for the Pacifica Foundation.” Nevertheless, after the elections a lawsuit was filed by one faction at WBAI against the network and its representatives.

In Spring 2008, a fight over financial control between Hicks and Sawaya, who had been wooed back after her first resignation, resulted in a Board decision to give her the right to directly supervise the national financial staff, something I’d sought without success. Unfortunately, after a three month absence she faced a rapidly worsening picture. Frustrated by a costly organizational structure that often blocked change, she openly called it “unsustainable.”

One of her first big decisions, made with Hicks’ agreement, was to cut the budget for Free Speech Radio News by 25 percent. What seemed to shock some people wasn’t so much the cutback (about $11,000 per month) but the fact that it was done without prior discussion. Sawaya explained that the financial crunch required strong and immediate action. The Board decided to let it stand.

The next surprises came in July, just as budgets for the next fiscal year were being developed. The National Board had voted to convene in person that month, but the national office didn’t follow up and the meeting had to be cancelled. Afterward, without explanation, Hicks disappeared from work. No announcement was issued, but news leaked out that he was on “paid leave to deal with family matters.” Later, rumors circulated that an investigation of his activities was being pursued – and also that he might sue. Sawaya meanwhile assumed responsibility for budget development, pushing for staff reductions and other budget cuts.

In the end, she left first, while Hicks returned to work in late 2008. He was ultimately terminated in early 2009, and replaced by an old nemesis, former National Finance Committee Chair LaVarn Williams. As predicted, he filed a lawsuit, alleging that he was dismissed because he was African American and a whistleblower. Clearly, Hicks had a sense of irony, considering his frequent warnings about escalating legal costs, the fact that a majority of Pacifica's National Board and staff – including his replacement – were people of color, and that he fought as hard as anyone to hold back information from the board and membership when he was in control.

Sawaya announced her second resignation in early August 2008, but asked those who knew not to say anything for a month. At meetings, she meanwhile tried to convince the Board and National Finance Committee that Pacifica should act like a network and “centralize” various functions, especially accounting and reporting. Directors listened but nothing changed.

As the national political conventions approached she turned her attention to Pacifica’s coverage. A radio journalist, Sawaya considered it a high priority. Still, people were surprised by her decision to leave the national office and personally cover the presidential race at a time when the main management issue was resolving its financial crisis. What they didn’t know was that she had already resigned.

Before she left for Denver, another confrontation intensified the situation. A volunteer programmer, allegedly “banned” from KPFA in Berkeley, showed up unexpectedly. The General Manager wasn’t around, but the Business Manager felt that something needed to be done. Calling the National Office next door, she asked for advice from the new Human Resources Director, Dominga Estrada, who advised her to call the police. According to witnesses, when the cops arrived excessive force was used. Sawaya was there and attempted to block videotaping of the event.

This deepened the existing divide at the station. Management defended its decision but said it wasn’t responsible for the overreaction of the police. Dozens of volunteers, and some on the staff, saw it as another example of a management out of step with Pacifica’s values and mission. A letter of no confidence in GM Lemlem Rijio was signed by dozens of people.

Soon afterward HR director Estrada left for a new job elsewhere and the National Board began to openly discuss what was called a “national office collapse.” The term actually referred to one of several options for how to address the overall problems. One alternative was to struggle on as is, a decision that would create a large budget deficit. Another was to cut some national positions and the salaries of others. The third and most radical option was to lay off almost everyone, retaining only enough staff to pay the bills and keep governance and the national office functioning.

The Board also had to decide what to do about the leadership vacuum. Some hoped to quickly recruit a new Executive Director. But the process would take months, and proposals to re-expand the CFO’s authority and apply strict performance standards to managers were likely to get in the way.

Even if a new chief executive could be found – and the Board overcame its divisions – there were elephants in the room. Pacifica’s leaders were far from agreement on how to resolve its financial crisis, and, even more difficult, restructure its programming and management to reverse the long-term decline in listenership and income.

By early 2009, as blogs and discussion forums speculated about receivership, bankruptcy, and breaking up the network, the balance of power shifted again. In New York and on the national board, the controversial Justice and Unity Coalition lost control. A new national chair, Grace Aaron of Los Angeles, stepped in as Interim ED. As the crisis deepened, she took dramatic action.

WBAI was facing eviction. It was $128,000 behind on the rent for its Wall Street office and studio space by April, and owed another $75,000 in back payments for its coveted transmitter atop the Empire State Building. It was losing at least $500,000 a year, required repeated short-term bailouts, and owed the national office almost $1 million in back payments for central services. WBAI had weathered storms and struggles before. But this time the troubles not only could bring down the station but also threaten the future of Pacifica itself.

To reduce the rent, Tony Riddle, the station’s fifth General Manager in seven years, renegotiated a long-term lease with Silverstein Properties – without getting Aaron’s approval. Under the new terms, WBAI had to pay $60,000 in May, another $75,000 in June, and $45,000 by July 25. If the station or Pacifica missed a payment, the consequence would be immediate eviction. It turned out to be one of Riddle’s last acts as GM.

In early May, Aaron removed him, but created a new “at home” job for Riddle as National Development Director. It was apparently a consolation prize for not making a stink. The new CFO, LaVarn Williams, was appointed Acting GM of the station. Almost immediately, Program Director Bernard White was removed. Aaron had already ordered the locks changed on the transmitter site. While some WBAI boosters cheered the changes as long overdue, others took to the streets, decrying a racist world view among opportunistic liberals.

In June, Aaron removed another GM, Ron Pinchback of WPFW in Washington, DC. The station had also lost listeners and fallen short on fundraising in recent years. Yet critics saw racial motives: like White and Hicks, Pinchback was African-American, suggesting to some that the changes were really a purge of top Black managers. The fact that most replacements were also Black was overlooked.

“WBAI was predominantly white in the 1960s and 1970s,” noted JUC leader Lederer. “And there has always been a rear guard of white listeners and programmers who want to go back.” JUC members and other Bernard White backers threatened to boycott and possibly sue unless this latest “national coup” was reversed. The station’s “race” war wasn’t over yet.

When Amy Goodman expressed “dismay” about White’s removal in a letter to Pacifica management, Williams replied that he and previous GMs were responsible for a “failure model” that jeopardized both “your program and the whole foundation.” Despite the popularity of Democracy Now!, Amy’s influence had become limited over the years, mainly governed by a mutually lucrative contract to air the show and assist with fundraising. Thus, barring a successful lawsuit, which could take years to resolve, or an LSB election that returned the JUC to power, Bernard White had seen his final days at Pacifica.

By 2010, Pacifica finally settled on a new Executive Director, Florida feminist radio host Arlene Engelhardt. The intensity of conflict was down a bit, but revenues from on-air fundraising continued to decline. KPFA’s GM Rijio was forced out and only KPFT in Houston had permanent management.

Upset about staff cutbacks, Kellia Ramares, long-time journalist and board operator at KPFA, delivered her own swan song at a Pacifica National Board meeting in July. After more than a decade with the network, including an arrest in the newsroom during the bad old “hijack” days, she announced that she was leaving. “Pacifica hires an election supervisor while they cannot keep a news tech at quarter-time hours?” she asked rhetorically. “Is this the business of elections or radio? To those who say that I should not criticize this expenditure, because ‘we must democratize Pacifica,’ I quote Confucius: “You cannot teach philosophy to a hungry man.”

The critique went deeper still. In an article for the Atlantic Free Press, Ramares added, “I now question the entire alleged movement that calls itself progressive.” She urged others similarly disillusioned to ask whether “progressivism is a philosophy that helps its adherents live healthy, secure, decent lives in the material world of today, or is it just pie-in-the-sky propaganda that institutions such as Pacifica use to get well-meaning people to give it money.”

Acknowledging that all media were taking an economic hit, she nevertheless had concluded that “citizen journalism, available across the political spectrum, but a special darling of the left because of its free speech nature and alleged purity of purpose, is destroying the ability of journalists to make a living. Paid journalists can’t compete with free. Is it progressive to expect, or even to demand, to receive free work in a society that demands that we pay for our food, clothing, housing and health care? Is it progressive to give donations to an institution for its infrastructure, but not to care about whether the workers in that institution can pay their bills?”

“Can we do well while we do good,” she concluded, “or is progressivism just a fancy name we give our struggle and poverty in order to make our marginalization seem noble?”

When rumors fly through Planet Pacifica or attacks get especially nasty, people often blame provocateurs and charge that the government is out to get radio’s voice of the people. There is some basis for this suspicion. The FBI had Pacifica in its sights as early as 1958, and took a special interest in 1962 when former Special Agent Jack Levine gave KPFA an interview. Levine exposed the Bureau as a threat to democracy and a tool of J. Edgar Hoover, its vain and obsessed director. According to Mathew Lasar, who reviewed Freedom of Information Act files, the Bureau poked, prodded, and harassed the organization for years, even planting agents disguised as private citizens.

In recent times, however, charges of counter-intelligence operations directed against the organization have been speculative at best, and occasionally excursions into free-range paranoia. As Executive Director, I was frequently asked to investigate such suspicions but found no solid evidence of a government operation. And even if a disinformation campaign was being pursued, it would be overkill. The Pacifica community is capable of destabilizing itself without a federal assist. Outside forces aren’t responsible for the bylaws or listener activist distrust of staff, the slow response to the digital age, disputes about the mission, programming gridlock, financial decline, or misbehavior by board members and volunteers.

Part of the problem is the version of democracy put in place in 2002. At this point, the five stations had about a million regular listeners (declining since then). Of this total, about 10 percent make financial or volunteer contributions, qualifying them to participate in local elections. Of that total, little more than 10 percent actually return ballots in the elections. In recent years it has sometimes been difficult to reach that bylaw-mandated threshold.

Due to instant runoff voting, it takes at most about 300 votes for someone to be elected to a station board. In other words, Local Station Board members draw their right to govern from less than one percent of the listeners. And in order to win, candidates often resort to negative appeals, especially charges that the process is corrupt and Pacifica isn’t democratic enough. In general, the elections have tended to perpetuate an atmosphere of confrontation and suspicion.

Board meetings also pose problems. They frequently feature rude outbursts and other disrespectful behavior. Roberts Rules are often abused, becoming weapons of obstruction rather than tools to promote rational discussion. Members use e-mails to spread rumors and promote debates of marginal relevance. In many cases, factional alliances manipulate the rules. Productivity suffers and questionable behavior opens the organization to legal liability. All this has had the effect of alienating potential supporters or future board members.

Touring the stations back in 2006, I repeatedly asked whether Pacifica was trying to operate a radio network or create a government. The reason was that it looked like the latter. Some even wanted quasi-judicial bodies – like the Committee to Investigate Allegations of Racism and Sexism formed in 2006 – and the equivalent of a Freedom of Information Act, as if Pacific was a National Security State. Anyone who questioned the “bold experiment” was considered out of step, possibly even a reactionary.

More than three years after I left, despite financial crisis, major staff turnover and a forceful exercise of executive power, progress remains elusive. Change is in the air, but the outcome is uncertain. Another round of contentious Board elections is underway, and whatever the results, they will likely either slow down the pace or again alter the direction.

Wednesday, July 3, 2013

Restless Times, Big Love and Nagging Questions

This is the fourteenth chapter of a series excerpted from “Maverick Chronicles,” a memoir-in-progress. Previous stories can be found at VTDigger. By Greg Guma

Visiting Nicaragua as part of a peace delegation in 1983 was an inspiring experience. But I also noticed that the Sandinista road had some potholes. In bookstores, for instance, I saw only Marxist literature and imports from the Soviet Union. The country’s literacy crusade had made a huge difference, but right-wing propaganda was being replaced by ham-handed left-wing indoctrination.
     
Paulo Freire teaches
As a student of Paolo Freire, the Brazilian educator whose approach stressed the development of critical consciousness, I concluded that Nicaragua’s revolutionaries were passing up a chance to transform society. "We are unfinished beings in an unfinished reality,” Freire had explained in class. “We become educated every day. But education doesn't have to do with the quantity of information you eat. You are educated to the extent that you are engaged in creating knowledge."
     But how is knowledge created? I had asked.
     “Knowledge is a mixture of thought and action which becomes like a ball in permanent motion,” he said. “It moves in spirals until the 'teachment' comes forth and knowledge appears."
     The process sounded a bit like giving birth, a painful but liberating experience. Knowing demands reflection, action, curiosity, patience, hope to create and taking risks, Freire explained. But in most schools, the acts of knowing and creating new knowledge are divided, so places of education have essentially become shopping centers that sell existing knowledge.
     "In Latin America fatalism is expressed in reliance on God,” he said. “In North America it is the power of the establishment and technology that replaces God. It is as though history is already finished and not being created and growing."
     When I shared my impressions of Nicaragua during a speaking tour, some people in audiences nevertheless objected to my questions about the Sandinistas’ decision to suppress dissent or censor books and newspapers. They have no choice, folks said, pointing to US attempts to overthrown the new regime. They were right. The Reagan administration was funding a violent insurgency and other forms of destabilization. But the Sandinistas weren’t perfect, and support for them need not exclude a bit of constructive criticism.
      Self-criticism was supposedly an aspect of the Left’s approach to process. When it came to “our side,” however, any break from “unity” could be grounds for a charge of disloyalty, perhaps even “collaboration” with the enemy.
     Frustrated with such reactions, I stopped speaking about politics in public for a while and returned to the book business to launch Maverick Bookstore and Gallery in Burlington’s Old North End. The name felt appropriate, philosophically and because the Lloyds, my son’s family on Robin’s side, were related to the Maverick clan in Texas.
     Samuel Maverick was a big Texas personality and the origin of the word’s modern usage. The official story is that he won a ranch in a card game and afterward declined to brand his steers. Unbranded steers became known around San Antonio as mavericks.
     The TV show Maverick was pure fiction, but there was a large maverick family. Robin’s grandfather married Lola Maverick. He became famous briefly as a so-called “Communist millionaire;” she helped organize the Ford Peace Ship before World War I and co-founded the Women’s International League for Peace and Freedom. Some of their children were activists as well, including Robin’s dad Bill. So, when I thought about an independent enterprise, not to mention my journalism and peace work, the name felt apt.
     Running a local business replaced political arguments with community service, brought in a modest income, and provided the opportunity to create an outlet for new community projects. But I was still restless, and spent considerable time over the next several years in Europe, seeing as much of the world as I could afford.
     At the end of the 1980s I tried to reconnect with Vermont as coordinator of the Burlington Peace and Justice Center and commissioner on the local Library Board. I even made a second run for the City Council, again getting 42 percent of the vote. In that race the local GOP Chair called me a “serious professional revolutionary anarchist,” an attack I turned into a campaign button. But despite some modest successes – forging a connection between the peace and environmental movements, publishing a book about Vermont, bringing the local library under direct city control – I felt disconnected, out of synch with the increasingly gentrified Burlington scene.
     
One of our Mexican campsites
Fortunately, I was deeply in love at the time. If we are lucky, at some point we experience a great love, one that stirs the soul and rocks the world. Mine was a Danish guitarist who visited Burlington with an international work camp when I was in my mid-30s and she was 20. For the next six years we pursued a trans-continental affair, wintering in my camper on the Mexican coast, mushroom hunting on a remote Danish island, trying to live together in Denmark and Vermont, breaking up and re-uniting and breaking up again. Finally, in 1990, we gave up struggling and married. A year later we picked up stakes and moved to southern California.
     Before arriving we were both offered jobs, she as a music therapist at a state hospital, me as manager of a bookstore in Santa Monica. Gail Stevenson, a successful therapist with celebrity clients and a Frazier Crane-like husband who offered advice on the radio, was about to open a trendy “eco-feminist” bookstore across from the Santa Monica Museum. She’d heard about my Vermont business and hoped to create something similar, a bookstore that was also a center for community activity. She already had a name – Revolution.
     The location was prime, the patrons affluent, sometimes famous, the space large and airy. But Gail was more concerned about what it looked like than how well it functioned as a business. The interior was designed by an architect partial to deconstructionist style, so books were piled on rough crates and lodged on stark metal shelves that made effective display difficult. Six months after the opening, an event heralded by a front page piece in the style section of the Los Angeles Times, the renovations still weren’t complete.
     No matter how much money we made it wasn’t enough. The main reason was Gail’s inability to stop spending on anything but books. The kid’s section had to be a posh playground with toys and designer pillows, the coffee bar had to feature only the best espresso machine and pastries. There were always more ads to place for events, and new ideas for an even better image. Meanwhile, I struggled to make payroll for a large seven-days-a-week staff and keep up with monster bills from our wholesalers.
     When I mentioned the problems to Gail, pleading with her to get a grip on the spending, her gaze would drift away, as if distracted by an invisible marvel somewhere in the distance. When I finished talking she’d turn back and say something like, “We need better biscottis.” It was maddening.
     Eventually, I demanded some changes. Making a comprehensive list of what was essential to get the operation into the black, I presented my case. The next day she introduced my replacement.
     Two weeks later I was unemployed. Three weeks after that I received a call from a member of the bookstore staff. On Gail’s 46th birthday, the staffer recounted, she had purchased a gun, learned how to use it at a shooting range, then driven to her Westwood office and killed herself. She was beautiful, blonde and wealthy, with a young son, an admired spouse and A-list friends. None of it turned out to enough.
    I stayed in L.A. for another year, but after the Revolution disaster I just couldn’t connect with the city’s ephemeral, often narcissistic culture. Three of my screenplays made the rounds – an historical epic on the Haymarket bombing, a film noir take on the CIA’s notorious MK-Ultra mind control program and a contemporary thriller about religious fundamentalists who carry out assassinations for a covert right wing group – but none of them survived the Hollywood meat grinder. After a few years neither did my marriage, although my love never faded and the memories remain.  
     Back in Vermont, the editorship of Toward Freedom opened up at the right moment, so I returned East and tried to recover. Still, the restlessness would not go away.
     In 1995, when an ex-girlfriend got in touch and I learned that she was moving to New Mexico for health reasons, I decided to give the west another try. Fortunately, the Internet had gone public by then, so it was possible to edit Toward Freedom long distance, even increase its immediacy and writer network. Dave Dellinger, who was co-chairing the board with Robin Lloyd, was skeptical but willing to give the idea a chance.
     A few months after arriving I was both editing TF and running yet another progressive non-profit, the Albuquerque Border City Project, an immigrant rights organization that provided legal services. As it happened, the US was just entering one of its periodic bouts with anti-immigrant fever.
     While living in L.A., I had watched the Border Patrol play a key role in the riots of 1992, deployed in Latino communities and arresting more than 1,000 people. Afterward, the INS had begun work with the Pentagon’s Center for Low-Intensity Conflict. The line between civilian and military operations was largely being erased. Human Rights Watch accused the US Border Patrol of routinely abusing people, citing a pattern of beatings, shootings, rapes, and deaths. In response, INS detainees in a private jail rioted in June 1995 after being tortured by guards.
     In many ways Los Angeles embodied the American Dream. The confluence of climate, capital and demographics had made California one of the world’s largest economies, an “international” state that was also the image capital of the world. But it was also rapidly becoming a "third world" state. As David Rieff noted in Los Angeles: Capital of the Third World, the rest of the country – and perhaps the world – might well follow the L.A. model. Rieff considered it, at the very least, a national archetype. The US was no longer an extension of Europe, he argued, becoming instead "an increasingly nonwhite country adrift, however majestically and powerfully, in an increasingly nonwhite world."
     While I worked in Albuquerque, the border became a battlefield, and government strategies for combating undocumented immigration re-militarized the region. The recently-passed North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA) meshed neatly with more obvious aspects of low-intensity conflict (LIC) doctrine. The definition of immigration and drug trafficking as “national security” issues brought state-of-the-art military approaches into domestic affairs. Just as the projection of a “communist menace” was a smokescreen for post-war expansionism, a “Brown wave,” the “Drug War” and terrorism were being used as pretexts for military-industrial penetration.
     In New Mexico I immersed myself in immigration law and regional race politics, developing a coalition of sympathetic groups to fight back against the most draconian aspects of a new immigration reform law. We staged public rallies in Old Town, and brought Latino and Asian spokesmen to Santa Fe to testify at legislative hearings. Sensing potential, the progressive power structure welcomed such initiatives and offered me a spot on the State Human Rights Commission.
     I remained an outsider, however, one who didn’t fully understand the nature of the local culture or embrace some of its assumptions. The cause was just. But the small, progressive enclave I’d entered was isolated from a larger and essentially conservative community. Neither felt like a place where I could comfortably put down roots.
    What was I, an activist or a writer? A foot soldier in the long progressive march – a movement about which I was having some doubts – or a social critic and observer, always questioning conventional wisdom? Was it possible to be both? Wherever I went such questions followed.
     Maybe my standards were too rigid, or my expectations too high, I thought. Maybe a more practical, less perfectionist approach to life and work would serve me – and whatever came next – a bit better. After years of self-imposed exile it was time to go home and find out.

Maverick Chronicles will continue ...

Monday, June 8, 2009

Pacifica Radio – What Can Be Done

In the midst of a national economic decline, the original listener-supported radio network has been experiencing its own financial and organizational meltdown. As Executive Director in 2006 and 2007, I was in a unique position to identify many of the dilemmas facing this important progressive media organization. This concludes an article chronicling my experiences and efforts to avert a crisis. To learn more, see the links at the end or look for Planet Pacifica: An Inside Story at Maverick Media.

Part Six of Real Life on Planet Pacifica

When rumors fly across Planet Pacifica or attacks get especially nasty, people often blame provocateurs and charge that the government is out to get radio’s voice of the people. There is some basis for this suspicion. The FBI had Pacifica in its sights as early as 1958, and took a special interest in 1962 when former Special Agent Jack Levine gave KPFA an interview.

Levine exposed the Bureau as a threat to democracy and a tool of J. Edgar Hoover, its vain and obsessed director. According to Mathew Lasar, who reviewed Freedom of Information Act files, the Bureau poked, prodded, and harassed the organization for years, even planting agents disguised as private citizens.

In recent times, however, charges of counter-intelligence operations directed against the organization have been speculative at best, and occasionally excursions into free-range paranoia. When messages critical of program hosts or local activists are posted on Internet lists and websites, their authors – some long-time Pacifica members – are sometimes charged as accomplices in an alleged government conspiracy to destabilize the organization. Board members and station managers aren’t exempt from insinuations that they’re part of the plot.


As Executive Director, I found no solid evidence of a government operation. But even if a disinformation campaign was being pursued, it would be overkill. The Pacifica community is capable of destabilizing itself without a federal assist. Outside forces aren’t responsible for the new bylaws or listener activist distrust of staff, the slow response to the digital age, confusion about the basic mission, programming gridlock, financial decline, or misbehavior of board members and volunteers.


Part of the problem is the version of democracy put in place in 2002. As this point, the five stations had about a million regular listeners (down about 20 percent since then). Of this total, about 10 percent make financial or volunteer contributions, qualifying them to participate in local elections. Of that total, little more than 10 percent actually return ballots in the board elections.

Due to proportional voting, it takes at most about 300 votes for someone to be elected to a local station board. In other words, LSB members draw their right to govern from far less than one percent of the listeners. And in order to win, candidates often resort to negative appeals, especially charges that the process is corrupt and Pacifica isn’t democratic enough. In general, the elections have tended to perpetuate an atmosphere of confrontation and suspicion.

They also take at least eight months to conduct, cost at least $200,000 each time, consume considerable staff and airtime, and lead to interminable legal disputes. Most non-profit boards recruit people with specific skills needed by the organization. Pacifica replaced this with an election process that perpetuates warring factions on every station board.


Board meetings have frequently featured rude outbursts and other disrespectful behavior. Roberts Rules of Order are often abused, becoming weapons of obstruction rather than tools to promote rational discussion. E-mails are used to spread rumors and promote debates of marginal relevance. In many cases, factional alliances manipulate the rules. Productivity suffers and questionable behavior opens the organization to legal liability. All this has had the effect of alienating potential supporters or future board members.


Voting is not a panacea. It is a mediated form of political engagement, and can sometimes divert energy from more effective forms of political and social action. Just because a group is elected, that doesn’t always mean it makes the best or even the right decisions.


Since the status-quo encourages competition rather than cooperation, a viable alternative would need to provide incentives for actively seeking common ground. For elections to be constructive, the process must reward helpful ideas rather than negative appeals. Pacifica also needs some at-large, appointed board members, people who have needed skills and aren’t so entangled in the internal political struggles.


In addition, the organization might benefit from some form of open-source governance, an emerging “post-national” approach that draws from the collective wisdom of a whole community. An open-source model could help de-couple setting policy from station management. A small step in this direction would be to post all the policies – local, national, financial – in one accessible public registry and update it regularly.


The current structure is, in part, a form of grassroots democracy. As much decision-making as possible is granted to the lower geographic level of organization. This sounds fine, but means in practice that power resides with local institutions – the stations – and not with individuals. In contrast, participatory systems give people equal access to decision-making regardless of their standing in a local chapter or community. The question is who and what Pacifica seeks to empower.


Beyond a fresh look at listener democracy and organizational structure, Pacifica Radio sorely needs a serious review of its 60-year-old mission statement, which adds to the confusion, an overhaul of its bylaws, and new revenue streams, including carefully screened underwriting. Individual contributions, mainly via on-air fund drives, won’t be enough, and CPB funding is unreliable.


Perhaps being the loyal opposition, covering the stories that other media ignore, is the path ahead. But if so, where and how do dialogue and national programs fit in? Is it really a network or merely a convenient umbrella for local stations that basically go their own ways? Resolving such questions will help to determine the best formats and schedules to serve the mission and attract more listeners. It might even lead to less internal warfare.


Whatever the answers are to the many questions nagging at Pacifica, one thing is certain: It needs to catch up with the digital revolution. To stay relevant, it will have to fully embrace the Internet and devote substantially more to retooling for this new form of production and distribution.


Podcasting is an ideal format for specialized information and shows with unique audiences, allowing programmers go far beyond a station's reach. With listeners able to choose the shows or items they want, relevance rather than production values and locality becomes a main factor. As search engines improve, podcasting will be more about items and less about shows. More people will also become their own producers, collecting the items or music they want and bundling them together.

Pacifica needs to produce more content specifically for podcasts, cultivating online hosts and opening opportunities for new voices to create segments and programs that won’t be aired on the terrestrial stations. It would also help to stop preaching to the choir, and offer more shows that promote real dialogue, at least the discussion of varying progressive viewpoints.

Some content will combine audio, video and text. Media players with TV screens are becoming more common, and it won’t be long before many stations have regular webcast shows. In addition, listeners will be able to participate in live, interactive video streams of talk shows, watching the on-air personalities and other listeners who are streaming themselves. They’ll be able to interact with the hosts and each other.

Two-way communication is quickly replacing one-way broadcasting as the dominant mode of connectivity. Hardwired systems dominated by proprietary radio components are becoming adaptive platforms. Just as PCs replaced mainframes and brought computing to the masses, wireless systems are replacing central transmission towers with millions of interactive end-user devices. In this new world, successful radio stations will be general online content producers.

In mid-2006, I outlined a possible future for Pacifica during a public meeting in New York. Asking the audience to suspend their disbelief and use their imaginations, I described an audio production center with multiple channels and schedules open to frequent change, a place that breaks down distinctions between listeners and producers, a hothouse for the cultivation of talent and a laboratory for new ideas, a place where people converge and contribute. To do that, however, Pacifica stations must become audio resource centers offering state-of-the-art training and a variety of platforms to get messages — news, information, opinions, music, humor, drama and more — out into the world.

Given the current state of affairs, it’s difficult to say whether anything close to this will come to pass. But before such a transformation can even begin, Pacifica needs stable management, a streamlined approach to governance, and a dramatic turn from suspicion and fear to tolerance and mutual respect.

Until then, no matter whom the board chooses to manage Pacifica it is likely to remain, as described to me back in 2005, a dream job from hell.

Previous Installments:
One: Rethinking the Experiment
Two: WBAI’s Delicate Condition
Three: Uncovering Fault Lines
Four: Pacifica’s War at Home
Five: End of a Media Dream

PS. For more detailed proposals concerning reforms and changes that could help, check out my reports to the PNB as Executive Director, particularly June and September 2006, and January 2007. For those disappointed that I haven't revealed more, please keep in mind that as a former staff member I am limited by confidentiality rules, especially those regarding personnel, executive committee meetings, and terms outlined in the agreement I signed in January 2006. Those who feel that this series has gone on too long or helped too little (or not at all) will be happy to know that it ends here. May the Pacifica community prosper and find a constructive way forward in the years ahead. -- GG