Shock jock aftershocks
Advertisers
clean up when controversy shows up
By
Keith L. Alexander and Melanie Wells,
USA TODAY
Copyright 1999: USA Today and the Gannett Company
A popular radio talk show host in Austin, Texas,
joked about assassinating President and Mrs. Clinton
and Vice President Gore. A Nashville disc jockey
called boxer Mike Tyson the "n" word. And in
Sacramento, Calif., a deejay encouraged motorists to
run down illegal immigrants crossing the Mexican
border.
All three radio personalities were fired but within
a year landed jobs that paid more money and brought
them even larger audiences.
In the world of shock jocks, perhaps the only thing
more outrageous than the torrent of barbed comments
and over-the-top remarks they spew is the money the
stations that hire them and the advertisers that latch
onto them reel in. "Controversy sells. It draws
listeners. It gets ratings. Advertisers do very
well," says Michael Harrison, editor of (italic)Talkers(/italic),
a talk radio/TV trade magazine.
Radio stations say the return they get from hiring
controversial personalities is worth the risk that the
shock jocks might offend listeners, prompt fines by
federal regulators or even jeopardize a station's
license to operate. "In this business, ratings
seem to be more important than just about
anything," says Phil Boyce, program director for
New York's WABC. Higher ratings translate into higher
advertising rates, which boost stations' revenue.
And, station executives say, shock jocks who have
been fired usually have learned to exercise more
caution with their envelope-pushing comedy and
off-the-cuff commentary.
Advertisers say they're drawn to shock jocks and
heated talk shows because audiences usually listen
more closely than they do to other stations. "If
they're stirring things up, people often hear ads more
clearly," says Kevin Straley, program director
for Boston's WRKO.
Until he was fired from a Washington rock station
two weeks ago, Doug "Greaseman" Tracht was
one of 300 deejays who tout Vermont Teddy Bear on the
air. Premier shock jocks Howard Stern and Don Imus
also have deals with the company.
"Listeners are very loyal to these
personalities," says Irene Steiner, media manager
at Vermont Teddy Bear. "When they say, 'You ought
to buy this company's product,' people respond. We
used the Greaseman for about a year. He was very
effective. He made the phones ring."
Editor Harrison says that when a radio personality
stirs up controversy - and is either fired or
reprimanded - the advertiser is often the winner. If
the deejay remains on the air, more listeners tune in
to hear the fallout. And if the advertiser decides to
cancel its spot and issues a statement saying it is
pulling off the show, it often gets a public-relations
boost. "Either way, the advertiser makes
money," Harrison says. Often, the talk shows have
the demographics that most attract advertisers: 25- to
50-year-old, college-educated males. "They're a
collective, isolated audience," he says.
Several advertisers say it's less risky to stick
with these personalities than it is to pull a product
off their show. Snapple knows firsthand that ending a
sponsorship can backfire. In 1995 when Snapple, then
owned by Quaker, ended its sponsorship of the (italic)Howard
Stern Show(/italic), Stern retaliated by bashing
the beverage line on the air. Stern's tirades hurt
Snapple's sales. As soon as Snapple was bought by
Triarc Beverage Group, Snapple again became a sponsor
of Stern's show.
Ad agency Ogilvy & Mather, which buys ad time
for Sears, Kraft, Hershey and others, stopped buying
time on shows hosted by edgy personalities after Imus
started making snide remarks about a sponsor.
"They bite the hands that feed them. Their
goal is higher ratings, and they're going to do it at
all costs. It's very smart for large companies to stay
away from them," says Reyn Leutz, associate
director of national broadcast for Ogilvy. The cost to
advertise varies, depending on the size of the media
buy and whether it's a market-by-market or national
purchase. Leutz says a national buy on Imus costs
about $12,000 per commercial, vs. an estimated $2,000
for the average national spot.
Many radio executives can't resist the appeal of
controversy. They know that personalities who can make
the phone ring often ring up higher revenue for
stations, too. And the most-popular shock jocks don't
do badly themselves. The latest issue of(italic) Forbes (/italic)estimates
that Stern earns $20 million a year.
Often, shock jocks who go over the edge land on
their feet. In 1996, when Chancellor Media's KSTE in
Sacramento fired talk show host Jeff Katz, the move
proved to be a boon for Katz and his new station. Katz
was fired for suggesting that motorists run down
illegal immigrants. A year later, Katz was hired by
WRKO in Boston, the nation's eighth-largest radio
market and a big leap from No. 27 KSTE. Ratings for
WRKO's late show, which Katz anchored, soared 147% to
a 7.4 share, program director Straley says.
Advertising revenue also increased. Katz has since
been promoted to the morning drive-time spot.
"This is someone who made a mistake on the job,
and he realized that. He apologized, and we've moved
on," Straley says.
In New York, WABC's talk show host Bob Grant was
fired in 1996 for joking about the plane crash that
killed Commerce Secretary Ron Brown, but Grant was
hired days later by rival WOR. At the new station,
Grant's show - which had aired in the New York area
only on WABC - became syndicated to 61 stations
nationwide. And WOR began winning in the ratings as
WABC's numbers plummeted.
Bob Bruno, WOR's general manager, says the station
gained more advertisers than it lost. "Bob's
ratings lifted the entire station. We were able to
benefit all around by his strength. He has the
instincts of a professional and knows where the line
is and will not cross it."
But what is that line? And whose job is it to
enforce it?
The Federal Communications Commission admits that
the rules are loose when it comes to what a person can
say on air. It's a freedom of speech issue. But FCC
officials have levied fines on radio personalities for
using what they consider indecent speech, any language
that depicts in a blatant or offensive way sexual
activities or sexual organs. Stern was fined $1.7
million in 1995 for violating the rule. Infinity
Broadcasting, owner of his home station WXRK in New
York and WARW, paid the fine.
Also banned are on-air remarks aimed at inciting
violence. But racist comments aren't off-limits. It's
left to the station's discretion whether to take
disciplinary action against employees who make such
remarks, FCC spokeswoman Rosemary Kimball says.
Often, those decisions are fueled by angry
listeners and community groups.
Some radio stations, especially those with fiery
radio personalities, have program producers stationed
at a filtering device they can use to delay a comment
from hitting the air by 7 seconds. Producers can use
the device to bleep out potentially offensive remarks
that might violate either the stations' or FCC
standards. But it's up to the employees to use the
device. Tracht, the recently fired Washington shock
jock, says that didn't happen in his case. WARW
dismissed him after he ridiculed a cut by hip-hop
artist Lauryn Hill with the remark "No wonder
people drag them behind trucks" - a reference to
the dragging murder of a Jasper, Texas, black man by a
white supremacist.
While most radio executives and talk show hosts
agree Tracht crossed the line, they say they wouldn't
be surprised if he's hired by another station. Tracht,
a 30-year radio veteran, says he hasn't received any
offers yet. He's focused on "apologizing to
everyone I have hurt."
(In 1986, Tracht stirred controversy for an on-air
remark in which he referred to the Martin Luther King
Jr. holiday and joked that if someone shot four more,
everyone would get an entire week off.)
Philadelphia station WWDB hired John Ziegler and
Rollye James, who were fired from other stations for
crossing the line. In 1997, Ziegler was fired from
news talk station WWTN in Nashville after his racial
slur about boxer Tyson. KLBJ in Austin, Texas - which
is owned by former president Lyndon B. Johnson's
family - fired James in 1996 after her flip comment
about assassinating the Clintons.
What if Ziegler and James cross the line again?
WWDB, like most stations willing to hire shock jocks,
is wary of doing too much to rein them in. To have an
internal written manual spelling out what deejays can
and cannot say would crimp their creativity, most
radio executives say. "The expectation is, when
they're working here, they will conduct themselves as
professionals and not make outrageous comments that
will be offensive to a lot of people," says
Dennis Begley, WWDB's general manager.
But Ziegler says shock jocks will continue to test
their language boundaries.
The threat of being fired "creates a tension
that is palpable, that the audience appreciates."
When Austin's KLBJ fired James, it set off a
six-month decline in the station's ratings and
advertising support, says Jim McBride, chief financial
officer of KLBJ's parent, LBJ Holdings. "National
ads are ratings sensitive. If your shares are down,
you lose business," he says.
James eventually sued KLBJ for breach of contract
and libel and was awarded about $700,000 by a jury.
She now hosts a late-night talk show in Philadelphia.
"Controversial personalities will always find
employment, because every general manager believes
that he or she is the G.M. that can control that
person's personality," McBride says. "It's
often making a deal with the devil."
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