Nebraska's Kerry thinks they'll go to the mat. "I'm not optimistic [about low power's future]," he says. "I'm afraid the broadcaster's association has a lot of power. In '96 we made it possible for them [through the Telecommunications Act] to own more stations, create greater consolidation, to have less diversity and make more money. Yet it appears there's no such thing as enough."

In terms of influence, the fight pending in Washington is lopsided. Low-power forces don't have the money to fund big-time lobbyists, much less a powerful senator's campaign war chest. Meanwhile the NAB shells out millions. The NAB is a fearsome presence even when faced off against other entrenched industry lobbyists, like cable television or satellite communications. This fight -- against a public interest -- is even more one-sided.

"Basically we're going to get our ass kicked," says one low-power advocate.

Yet if NAB is so powerful, why is low power still even on the table? After all, a trade group that has spent $10 million lobbying Congress over the last two years is not supposed to lose a high-profile policy debate to a patchwork coalition of pastors, professors, advocates and musicians.

The initial battle came during the FCC's comments period, held through most of '99. Usually of interest only to broadcasters and a small group of Washington communications attorneys, the comment period for low power attracted nearly 3,000 written submissions, the most in FCC history.

The problem for the NAB was that the only groups opposing low power were fellow broadcasters. Meanwhile, urging the FCC to allow the new format was an extraordinary spectrum of interests: groups like the Green Party, the United States Catholic Conference, the Library Association of America, the ACLU, the Council of Calvin Christian Reformed Church, Native American tribes and the United Church of Christ; celebrities like the Indigo Girls, Bonnie Raitt and Kurt Vonnegut; and the cities of Detroit, Seattle, Ann Arbor, Mich., and Santa Monica, Berkeley and Richmond, Calif., among others. (In the last few days, the NAACP, the Rev. Jesse Jackson and the National Organization for Women have been lobbying Congress on low power's behalf.)

For example, out in northwest Wyoming in the remote town of Powell (pop. 6,000), Trinity Bible Church parishioners are planning fundraisers in order to raise $15,000 and $20,000 for a transmitter in case their low-power application is approved.

"They're excited," says pastor Dan Thomas. "This is a wonderful opportunity to have a community station." Turn on the radio in Powell, he says, and locals can choose from just four AM and four FM stations. "It's pretty remote out here so there is a need to meet. We plan on having local programming and live broadcasts of our service for shut-ins. The gospel will be preached."

Everyday communities like Powell's Trinity Bible Church made their voices heard to FCC commissioners, who voted to adopt low power in January. But then the battle moved to Congress, NAB territory.

"That venue is about muscles and dollars." says Cheryl Leanza, deputy director of Media Access Project.

"The NAB got to staffs a lot faster than low-power people did," reports one senator's aide. "Our office was flooded by broadcasters with telegrams, phone calls, mailings." The NAB also passed out technical studies detailing low power's potential interference.

The FCC's technical analysis found that low-power radio would not cause significant signal interference. The NAB is taking the unusual step of directly challenging this analysis. NAB president Eddie Fritts recently called low power a "boneheaded" initiative. "The FCC has clearly abdicated its responsibility as guardian of the [radio] spectrum," he said.

Broadcasters have maintained a strong public front on the low-power fight, but not everyone in commercial radio thinks the industry has served itself well. "This debate has been framed as the haves vs. the have-nots, and broadcasters can't win that battle," warns Bill O'Shaughnessy, a former NAB board member and former president of the New York Broadcasters Association. "Our sole response has been a technical one, but broadcasters know you can buy just about any study you want."

O'Shaughnessy does oppose low power, but on the basis that the government should not be in the business of selecting which overlooked voices deserve their own stations. "If NAB can kill low power I would not be unhappy, although I would be somewhat uneasy. I think the NAB missed the whole thing. I beseeched them, 'Give [FCC Chairman] Bill Kennard something; don't fight him everywhere.' But the NAB comes roaring out of the firehouse on everything.

"I think that NAB views broadcasting more as an industry, instead of a profession or a calling," O'Shaughnessy says. "We ought to look at ourselves as electronic journalists, as trustees of the public airwaves."

It's safe to say those radio station owners who did consider themselves journalists or trustees have since sold their signals. Since the Telecommunications Act was passed four years ago, the radio business has been swallowed up by nearly $70 billion worth of station consolidation, with the largest player today, Clear Channel Communications, controlling nearly 1,000 stations.

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