Scott MacFarlane is Anchor of Scott MacFarlane Reports and Chief Washington Correspondent for MeidasTouch Network. MacFarlane has earned 20 Emmy and Edward R. Murrow awards and the Anna Quindlen Award for excellence in journalism from the Child Welfare League of America. Edward R. Murrow was a radio and television newscaster whose unflinching reports set the standard for American broadcast journalism.
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Notes
Unless otherwise noted, all images used in this video are in the public domain.
Simon Harriyott from Uckfield, England. This file is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/deed.en
That last line is especially worth remembering.
The Broadcast Journalism I Learned From — And Why Murrow Still Matters Today
Listening to this short video this morning reminded me of something I’ve felt for decades: By the end of the second World War, broadcast journalism had a moral center. It had a spine. It had people who believed that reporting was a public trust, not a performance. And I say that not as an outsider looking back nostalgically, but as someone who had the privilege of learning from the last generation who carried that ethic forward.
The video I watched — with Scott MacFarlane offering historical perspective on Edward R. Murrow’s reporting, including Murrow’s confrontation with Senator Joseph McCarthy — brought that era vividly back. MacFarlane’s framing underscores what Murrow represented: a journalist who understood that truth-telling in a democracy is not optional. It is foundational.
I learned that lesson firsthand in the early 1990s, when I took a documentary production course at the University of Illinois with Jerry Landay, who had worked closely with Charles Kuralt at CBS. Kuralt’s “On the Road” stories — broadcast from 1967 to 1980 — were gentle, human, and beautifully written. But they were also reported. They were grounded in facts, interviews, context, and a deep respect for the viewer’s intelligence. Landay embodied that same discipline. He was a superb writer, a frequent contributor to The New York Times Op‑Ed page, and one of the most principled journalists I’ve ever known.
After the course, I worked with him on panel discussions for the local PBS station. Watching him prepare was like watching a craftsman: meticulous sourcing, careful framing, and an insistence that every segment earn the audience’s trust. He believed deeply in the Murrow tradition — and he didn’t just talk about it. He lived it.
Landay introduced me to one of the last surviving members of that era: Daniel Schorr, one of the original “Murrow Boys.” We had breakfast together, and it remains one of my fondest memories from my documentary‑journalism days. Schorr radiated the seriousness of someone who had spent a lifetime reporting not for ratings, but for the public. He understood that journalism was not entertainment. It was civic responsibility.
Murrow’s Stand Against McCarthy — And Why It Matters Again Today
MacFarlane’s commentary in the video highlights Murrow’s most courageous moment: his 1954 See It Now broadcast confronting Senator Joseph McCarthy. Murrow didn’t sensationalize. He didn’t shout. He simply laid out the facts — calmly, precisely, and with moral clarity — and trusted the public to see the truth.
It was one of the most important acts of broadcast journalism in American history. It helped turn public opinion against McCarthy and demonstrated what journalism can do when it refuses to be intimidated.
Watching that history retold today, it’s impossible not to hear echoes in our current political moment. When political figures label liberals as “Communists,” it mirrors the same rhetorical pattern Murrow confronted — the construction of an internal enemy, the use of ideological labels to delegitimize fellow citizens, the attempt to turn political disagreement into existential threat. Some observers describe this as a neo‑McCarthyist drift.
Murrow’s example is not just history. It’s instruction.
Why Today’s Broadcast Segments Feel So Hollow
Which brings me back to the TODAY show segment I saw earlier — a breathless, anecdote‑driven piece about teens using AI in school. It had all the familiar hallmarks: a dramatic headline, a few emotional clips, a panel reacting to a survey, and no real reporting. No context. No expertise. No analysis. Just emotionalism packaged as journalism.
Broadcast news has always had a tension between storytelling and reporting. Even in Murrow’s day, the medium rewarded immediacy and emotional resonance. But the best practitioners — Murrow, Kuralt, Landay, Schorr — treated narrative as a vehicle for truth, not a substitute for it. They believed that journalism should illuminate, not merely entertain.
Today’s broadcast ecosystem has largely abandoned that ethic. The incentives have shifted toward speed, relatability, and “shareability,” and the result is a steady stream of segments that feel like news but function like infotainment. They stir emotions without providing understanding. They amplify concerns without offering context. They create the illusion of reporting without the substance of it.
Why Murrow Still Matters
MacFarlane’s historical framing reminded me of what broadcast journalism once aspired to be. It reminded me of Landay’s insistence on rigor, Kuralt’s quiet integrity, and Schorr’s unwavering commitment to truth.
And it reminded me why I’ve never fully trusted the modern broadcast format: not because the medium is inherently flawed, but because the standards that once guided it have eroded.
Murrow showed what journalism can be when it stands up to power. Today, when political rhetoric again leans toward labeling opponents as enemies, when fear is used as a political tool, and when public understanding is shaped by shallow segments rather than deep reporting, Murrow’s example is newly urgent.
I’ll keep watching these patterns, not because I expect the medium to return to its Murrow roots, but because understanding how journalism has changed is part of understanding how our democracy is shaped — and sometimes distorted — by the stories we tell and the way we tell them. 👍❤