A recently released documentary worth watching focuses attention on producers responsible for putting together The Jerry Springer Show. This episode of Hollywood Demons (“Jerry! Jerry! Jerry!”) serves as a primer for rationalizing moral depravity. The show also contains numerous comments by Dr. Drew Pinsky that include several troubling observations and a couple of bona fide moral boners.
The producers and
other major players behind the scene can be divided into two groups, those who
seemed hardened to any moral sensibility and those who felt pangs of conscience
that prompted their departure from the show.
Among the latter group was an associate tasked with luring guests into ambushes
via complementary airplane, limo, and hotel accommodations. The young producer quit
after a “sweet” Southern mom was crying in his arms following a program in
which her son callously insulted her. That
case of mistreatment was mild compared to others, including a 14-year-old
sexually abused girl who was booked three times along with her abusive dad and
mocked as “a racist family.” That very
popular formula likely did more than the Southern Poverty Law Center to spread
the notion among low information voters that white supremacy was a threat to democracy.
Beyond the typical shows
noted above, Springer productions were directly connected to legal cases
involving incest, murder, and suicide. In 1998 two 15- and 13-year-old
brothers in Hollywood, Florida mentioned a prior Springer episode as their inspiration
for victimizing their 8-year-old sister.
Two years later a murder was committed by a man who, along with his new wife, had
humiliated his ex-wife on the show. Significantly,
he later murdered his ex on the very day the prerecorded episode was broadcast and
viewed by her serial abuser. Still, the
show continued. Eighteen years later after a “secrets revealed” episode led to
a suicide, NBCUniversal finally pulled the plug -- likely as part of an
arbitrated settlement with the young man’s family, and also because treating people
like dispensable pawns wasn’t sufficiently shocking in the age of mouse-click depravity.
Naturally, many
producers along with Springer whitewashed their product as “just
entertainment”-- the word “just” providing absolution for the degradation of human
beings for public amusement. One of the show’s
mafia-redolent producers proffered the excuse that a single TV show wouldn’t destroy
the country, a ludicrous moral standard the COVID pandemic would pass with
flying colors. Burt Dubrow, the program’s
initial executive producer, began his interview with an air of
self-justification, saying he wanted to “set the record straight” and noted that
the show initially had a Phil Donahue format, and what it later became was only
discovered “accidentally” on an episode featuring white supremacists alongside
black activists. The predictable brawl produced
a ratings bounce, and the rest is history. Throughout the documentary Dubrow
appeared impervious to any moral concerns.
Dr. Pinsky, an M.D.
and addiction specialist, was regularly inserted into the documentary for
comments that were sympathetic toward those being exploited but inordinately
exculpatory with respect to Springer whom the doctor knew and confessed was “a hard
guy not to love.” In Dr. Drew’s
estimation, Jerry was charged with the task of transforming “dog excrement”
into “Devonshire cream.” Apparently lost
on the doctor was the fact that Springer, despite his Jewish heritage,
regularly platformed racists and thus could hardly be credited for confronting anti-Semites.
At least Pinsky didn’t specifically give
Springer “Devonshire cream” credit for his final thoughts segment at each program’s
end -- an obvious face-saving device comparable to the mob’s use of a store
front establishment to launder money obtained through extortion and murder.
The doctor’s most disturbing
observation was the following commonplace:
Jerry always
said that the show doesn’t create society, it reflects it. And he’s absolutely correct; it is a hundred
percent correct.
That someone as
prominent as Dr. Pinsky could enthusiastically endorse one of the most frequent
and mendacious excuses for debauchery since the advent of mass media was
shocking. And he said it with more
intensity than anything else he observed in the entire documentary. The only way Springer’s show “reflects
society” is that its very existence reveals a powerful media group willing to
exploit the nation’s most vulnerable and degraded individuals for profit --
other consequences be damned. Stated
otherwise, the show “reflects” a vanishingly small segment of society, a
segment manipulated to produce contrived confrontations. Most people would never do what Springer and
company did. Their habits don’t make
ratings spike but do make the country function at work, at worship, through
charitable activities, and as caring parents.
In short, Springer’s show is a proctologist’s view of society with fake
tumors added willy-nilly to the radiological photos.
Having all but absolved his “hard not to love”
acquaintance of transmogrifying society into a moshpit of degeneracy, Pinsky acknowledges
that the show does, at least, “desensitize” and “spiritually deplete” guests,
producers, and arguably the mob-like studio audience. His sociological coup de grace, however, was this declaration about desensitization,
also made with intensity: “They are human beings, and we dehumanize them. That is on us, and we should look at ourselves
very carefully.”
Who is “we”? I never watched more than a few minutes of
Springer, and it was as an ethics teacher keeping up with the depravity
displayed on the networks and MTV. How exactly
are “we” responsible for the “desensitization” (to say nothing of incest,
murder, and suicide) perpetrated by Springer and his producers? Earlier in the documentary Pinsky had opined,
“Television doesn’t ruin society because we watch” -- a non-sequitur that
combines an overstated premise with an ill-defined conclusion. The doctor could at least have pointed to
regular viewers alongside Springer, his producers, and television higher ups,
then apportioned degrees of culpability. After all, no one would watch the “dehumanization”
if it weren’t first produced and broadcast. Those who quit the show clearly felt
its negative impact on themselves, guests, and society, and they took
responsibility.
By placing blame upon
an amorphous “society” or on “us” one fails to assign guilt where it properly
belongs, typically with the dozens, hundreds, or thousands of morally vacuous
individuals willing to do almost anything to make a pile of money or become
famous and powerful -- including the “lovable” Springer.
Richard Kirk is a freelance writer living in
Southern California. His book Moral Illiteracy: "Who's
to Say?" is also available on Kindle , as is his book Poetry with a Moral Edge.
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