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Monday, Nov 9, 2009
NPR says it supports low-power FM, but it's joining with industry lobbyists to drive a stake through the heart of grass-roots broadcasting.
Apr 11, 2000 | Three months ago radio activists were euphoric when the Federal Communications Commission, over the strong objections of influential commercial broadcasters, voted to roll out low-power radio (LPFM), a new class of 10 and 100 watt community-based FM stations. Since that vote though, the ad-hoc LPFM coalition of educators, church leaders, grass-roots entrepreneurs, school administrators and minorities have discovered firsthand why their primary foe, the National Association of Broadcasters, is regarded as one of Washington's most powerful players.
For months the NAB, not accustomed to losing policy debates with the FCC, has mercilessly pounded the commission and Chairman Bill Kennard over LPFM. The NAB claims that the FCC relied on "junk science" in order to pave the way for new low-power non-commercial signals. NAB president Eddie Fritts said Kennard's interest in "social engineering," in the proposed public interests of low-power radio, has blinded him to its effects on the industry.
The NAB was extremely influential in crafting the Telecommunications Act of 1996, which uncorked a radio station buying spree that made owners very, very rich. Lately it has been working the Hill again, telling congresspeople that tiny micro-radio outlets (able to reach a couple of miles at most) would unleash crippling interference on the FM dial. The NAB has lined up a broad coalition of politicians who are poised to essentially kill off LPFM by passing the so-called "Radio Broadcasting Preservation Act of 2000," strongly favored by the NAB.
As LPFM's fate now slowly twists in the wind (GOP House leaders hope to bring the bill to the floor for a vote next week), advocates are upset by a surprise opposition to their cause. They expected to fight commercial conglomerates in their David vs. Goliath battle -- the Clear Channel Communications and Infinity Broadcasters of the word, which, combined, operate more than 1,000 radio stations nationwide, have fought LPFM every inch of the way. But in the end National Public Radio, that self-styled voice of democracy, could be the one that drives the stake through the heart of low-power radio.
"I'm disappointed to be fighting NPR on this and I don't understand their opposition," says Cheryl Leanza, deputy director of the non-profit Media Access Project, a strong supporter of LPFM. She charges NPR, "has been critical in putting a false friendly face on the opposition to low-power radio, and that's a great, great tragedy."
Michael Bracy, director of the Low Power Radio Coalition, agrees. "NPR is willing to give lip service to low-power radio and supports its goals of diversity on the airwaves. But behind the scenes NPR's been incredibly destructive by trying to alert listeners to alleged threats of LPFM, by lobbying in Congress and impeding the process at FCC. When you look at everything NPR supports and stands for and represents, you'd hope they wouldn't oppose community access to radio," says Bracy.
Late last week NPR, the mighty non-profit corporation which counts more than 600 member stations nationwide and is heard by 14 million listeners each week, joined the NAB by publicly supporting the Radio Broadcasting Preservation Act. The move surprised and miffed Kennard, who fired off this shot: "I am surprised that an organization which has done so much to promote opportunities for Americans to be heard on the airwaves would join with the special interests in curbing this new service."
"Our position is not ambiguous," counters NPR president Kevin Klose. "We do not oppose low-power radio. We wouldn't possibly oppose more public service. We think low-power radio can be compatible with existing public radio. I just don't want two years from now to be facing endless unresolved interference issues between low-power and public stations."
As Klose suggests, the heated debate over LPFM now comes down to a technical question of interference. The FCC insists new LPFM stations on the so-called second adjacent channels to existing signals would not cause significant interference. (i.e. adding an LPFM at 90.5 would be fine, even though an existing station rests two channels away at 90.1.) Opponents backing the bill in Congress insist a third channel distance must be maintained. (i.e. 90.7, with the nearest signal at 90.1) But because the FM dial is so crowded already, insisting on third channel protection would eliminate 75 percent of all possible locations for new LPFM outlets. That means that, whereas the FCC had hoped to license hundereds of stations, it would only be able to license about 70 nationwide.
The FCC is seen as nation's leading expert on FM spectrum management, and it spent more than a year reviewing potential interference and conducting lab tests. LPFM opponents, following the lead of the NAB, have adopted the position that, caught up in Kennard's enthusiasm for LPFM, the commission simply fell down on the job. (An NAB spokesperson could not recall the last time the organization challenged the veracity of an FCC technical finding, conceding, "it's very unusual.")
In fact, NPR declared the commission's engineering findings were "significantly flawed in numerous respects." Now in a first, NPR is joining others in calling for a third party to determine what sort of static LPFM would create for existing stations. Despite the fact that Kennard has made it clear any legitimate claims of interference will be dealt with swiftly as the first few dozen micro-radio station go live, NPR is instead asking the commission to prove in advance that LPFM will never interfere with any existing signals.
