The Bad Object: Television in the American Academy

Abstract

work, but there was something about sitting in the living room, knowing that something almost dangerous was taking place on the screen, that others sensed it too, and that they were reacting very differently. It was almost more important to feel that tension-while all present remained silent-for as long as possible. Television still has this power. I watch several hours of TV almost every night, almost always dramas, and find myself moved and enlightened, annoyed and disgusted, angered and delighted. In early March 2005, I turned to Sara Newcomb, who watches with me and whose judgment I trust implicitly, and said of of Boston Legal, That's the best of television I've seen in years and the best script by David E. Kelly I can remember in some time. She agreed and we began a conversation. It wasn't simply an episode we talked about, or even a program or a writer-producer. It was television. I am unconcerned with whether one writes about episodes or series, genres or schedules, industry or policy, TiVos or cable, European public-service broadcasts, or economic shifts. I am concerned that we ask questions that help explain to others why television continues to be so important. That is what I look for when I read new work. That is just about all I care about, and if I do not find those critical questions, I stop reading. I enjoy being able to help make choices that somehow address the larger social and cultural constructs that surround us. In today's richly shattered condition, it is very hard to conceive of a writing and teaching strategy that allows one to touch and tap all the intersecting forces that come into play in any given question related to television. It is harder still to pose the truly major questions. But that is certainly what we should do.