don imus

In the interest of full disclosure, I admit that I have been an occasional viewer of Imus In The Morning. What I have most enjoyed in my sporadic viewing has been his conversations with journalists, such as David Gregory, and the common taste we have in roots music (Levon Helm, formerly of the Band, for example). At times the humor crosses the line (this is usually carried on by one of his cohorts), and at that point I would typically either change the channel or get on with the day. Imus has been one of the most effective advocates for the veterans who are patients at Walter Reed, and his political sympathies lie somewhere near my own. At times I would watch Imus while running on the eliptical machine at the YMCA, or reading the morning paper. And finally, I have appreciated the work he and his wife do at a ranch in New Mexico for kids with cancer, and Dierdre's environmental efforts on behalf of children with autism.

This being said, the humor did often cross the line. I was in a period of not watching when his comments about the Rutgers women's basketball team were made, so I did not hear them in "real time". The first responses were the predictable talking heads who had clear objections, and it soon became apparent that there was no real counterpoint (unusual for the twenty-four hour news cycle). As everything settled, it became obvious that the remarks were inappropriate for our national discourse, even in a setting where serious news is blended with shock journalism. This says something good about our national discourse. It was telling that we did not move on to another subject. And then something interesting happened: we began to think about the Rutgers women themselves, who were the true victims here. And then a somewhat extended history of racial humor became public, with which I was unfamiliar, related to Gwen Ifill of PBS, among others, and it was clear that the comments were a part of a larger pattern. The free speech argument was made, weakly, but then free enterprise kicked in: the corporations began to ask exactly how they were going to benefit from sponsoring Imus. And then a two week suspension became a permanent decision. Some have wondered about the place of apology and forgiveness here, but the public seems to have wearied of celebrities who continually cross the line and then offer pleas for second or third chances, with no amendment of life.

Imus may end up somewhere in satellite radio, where subscribers will seek him out and then the burden of his offensiveness must be carried in part by those who choose to spend their money to be there. The women of Rutgers will be seen, I hope, as heroines and multi-dimensional students who have diverse gifts and aspirations. The corporations will find other vehicles for their advertising dollars. The journalists will get their messages across in different ways. There remains a place for an unpredictable conversation about politics, music and culture, with a healthy dose of humor and cynicism, and one that makes the world a better place in the process. I realize this was my own motivation for occasionally tuning in. Perhaps I hoped for the good and tended to tune out the bad. I regret that Imus' considerable social capital has been squandered by the use of commentary that is destructive to others and, to be sure, to himself as well.