Wired for politics

When they showed up at the national political conventions in 2000, the crews from Comedy Central's "The Daily Show" were treated like lesser television beings. Their work space was in nosebleed territory, and they had to use their wiles to get to the floor; once, co-executive producer Stewart Bailey slipped past a guard who mistook him for George Stephanopoulous.

But one day this past December, as Bailey scanned the news wires, he learned that the fate of his satirical news show might change. Rod O'Connor, chief of the 2004 Democratic National Convention, issued what seemed to be an open invitation: "If [Daily Show host] Jon Stewart wants to come here, we should try to make that work."

Cable networks have come to the parties' quadrennial confabs for years, but if their programming hasn't hewed strictly to the news, they've often had to elbow their way inside, fighting for floor passes, work space, and respect. But this spring, as they seek credentials to cover the convention in Boston, many cable executives say they are being welcomed like never before.

It's a sign of how much cable is factoring into the television landscape, as broadcast news operations cut back on prime-time convention coverage. And it's an indication that convention planners, scrambling for an audience, realize that their four-day show isn't just a news event; it's also a pop culture spectacle.

"As serious as the convention is and as important as it is to our democratic process, there's also an entertainment element to it," said Peggy Wilhide, spokeswoman for the Democratic National Convention Committee. So this year, she said, "what we've been doing is going to the cable networks and saying to them, `Come to us with your ideas.' "

As they do so, cable networks are demonstrating increasing clout. Monday, MTV announced an unprecedented cooperative effort with the Democratic and Republican national committees: an essay contest for 18-to-24-year-olds, with the winners earning prime-time convention speaking roles.

MTV is one of many cable channels lining up to cover the Democrats in Boston this summer, some serious of purpose, some less so. BET (Black Entertainment Television) plans to use convention footage in its news reports; ESPN2 will grab politicos for its morning sports-talk show "Cold Pizza"; Comedy Central is hashing out plans to broadcast "The Daily Show" from the Boston University campus.

Spanish language network Univision will be present, as will Lifetime, which will host woman-centered events and hand out Luna fitness bars. E! Entertainment Television is coming, too, though it's unclear whether the network will send correspondents Joan and Melissa Rivers, who four years ago spent their time critiquing politicians' clothes.

The world has truly changed since 1992, when the notion that MTV would cover a convention seemed like something of a novelty. Back then, Tabitha Soren, the network's 24-year-old correspondent, was constantly trailed by other reporters.

Four years later, cable networks still had to fight for credibility, not to mention a place inside the convention hall. Brian Donlon, a former executive at Lifetime, recalls how hard it was to get credentials when the Democrats met in Chicago in 1996. His staff got workspace in the upper decks of Chicago's United Center, next to the outlets from a still-obscure medium called the Internet.

Donlon wasn't surprised; "Lifetime had zero track record back then," he said. "It was basically women-in-peril movies," with no obvious forum for political news. But this year, as coordinating producer of ESPN2's "Cold Pizza," he expects better access. And Lifetime, far from its upper-level days, is negotiating to hold an after-hours party on the FleetCenter floor.

As their coverage has evolved, some networks, such as MTV and Lifetime, have expanded their convention roles, crossing the line from coverage into advocacy. MTV's "Choose or Lose" program aims to register 20 million voters. Univision is distributing to political operatives a "Hispanic Voter Tool Kit," a CD-ROM containing demographic information and market analysis detailing Latino voter clout. Lifetime conducted a survey of women voters and is running its own registration drive, hoping to position itself as a leading voice for women's issues.

That's one reason niche cable networks are eager to cover the convention, Donlon said. It's not just a news event, but a means of self-promotion, as networks vie to be the premier outlets for reaching particular audiences: youths, women, Hispanics, 18-to-24-year-old men.

"It is about trying to provide information to an audience that you can reach," Donlon said, "but it's about marketing, too."

For networks that traffic in celebrity or human-interest stories, conventions have an obvious appeal, said Scott Keeter, associate director of the Pew Research Center for the People and the Press. They're packed with ready-made narratives and famous faces, down to the political reporters who have become television stars in their own right.

From the standpoint of convention planners, that's both good and bad, said Kathleen Hall Jamieson, director of the Annenberg Public Policy Center at the University of Pennsylvania.

On one hand, she said, political parties need help reminding the public that conventions are happening, as broadcast coverage steadily fades amid falling ratings and complaints that little of news value happens. According to the Vanishing Voter Project at Harvard's Kennedy School of Government, the three major broadcast networks devoted 15 hours to both parties' conventions in 1992, 12 hours in 1996, and 8 1/2 hours in 2000.

On the other hand, Jamieson said, parties want to dispel the notion, growing since the 1970s, that conventions are scripted events devoid of content. Joan and Melissa Rivers, she said, might not help the effort much.

Indeed, Harvard's Vanishing Voter Project surveyed many voters four years ago who called conventions prepackaged and "meaningless." Researchers suggested the parties might want to stop downplaying internal strife, for the sake of drawing more interest.

The conventions' bad rap is unfair, Jamieson said. They're still showcases for the parties' rising stars, she said, and filled with moments that make lasting impressions. In a national survey by the Pew Research Center, conducted in October 2000, 46 percent of Americans said they had heard "a lot" about Democratic nominee Al Gore smooching his wife before his acceptance speech.

Still, even news reporters often find that the substance-to-filler ratio is skewed toward the filler. Soren, now a photographer in California, suspects that's why she got so much attention in 1992 and 1996. "There isn't really that much to say" about conventions, she said. "It's not like in the old days, where people used to gather in a room and hash it out . . . so we were a good story."

But niche cable networks can draw viewers who might not dream of watching traditional coverage, producers say. It's the pitch Donlon makes when he encourages politicians to appear on "Cold Pizza." Onetime Democratic candidates John Edwards, Wesley K. Clark, and Richard A. Gephardt took him up on the offer during the primary season, talked politics and sports, and appeared refreshingly three-dimensional. Gephardt struggled at a foosball game against host Jay Crawford, erupting at one point, "This is harder than being in Congress!"

"Theoretically, we're appealing to a young male demographic," said Donlon, who hopes to draw equally prominent guests in Boston this summer. "They're going to be watching us for other things, and we think we're going to be putting your issues and your message into an environment where it might be easier to reach them."