Masters of deflection

In 1977, television was a central part of American life. With over 71 million households owning TV sets, the networks had become cultural institutions. The stories, personalities, news, and advertising on television were nearly omnipresent. Newspapers across the nation devoted vibrant editorial columns to expound on the humor, style, and drama of the unfolding series of network offerings. Most columnists were fundamentally sympathetic to the medium – even when they might dislike a program. Television was less a subject of careful critique than a shared national experience worth celebrating.

The three networks – ABC, NBC, and CBS – showed little tolerance for criticism. Challenges to their programming choices or intentions were met, not with reflection, but with deflection – ignoring them, dismissing them, spinning them, or simply attacking the critic as unsophisticated or outright un-American. As Don Wildmon and the National Federation for Decency (NFD) ramped up pressure on network affiliates and advertisers ahead of Soap’s premiere, the networks – true masters of deflection – revealed just how far they were willing to go to protect their dominance. (See The Stand 9/25, 10/25.)

ABC had two problems with the soap opera spoof titled Soap: The general public was getting exercised, and the affiliates were getting squeamish. Ever since backlash over the show’s raunchy content had erupted in June 1977, ABC had been trying to spin it. At first the producers claimed the show wasn’t outrageous at all. But then, when the Los Angeles Times published an internal ABC memo exposing the “gratuitous, sensational, and exploitative” nature of the program, executives called off the publicity to let the controversy drive interest.

Cleverly, ABC reshot a bedroom scene and softened the language in a couple of other places. Though most of the program remained unchanged, these tweaks created the impression of a strong response to the criticism. More importantly, they gave affiliates the confidence to resist pressure to pull the show. After all, a public outcry would only last so long.

The fight

It became a war of attrition. If Soap could just get to its air date with the affiliates and sponsors still in place, the protests would likely fade – and ABC could emerge a ratings victor. The show had a premium slot directly following Happy Days and Three’s Company – two of the highest-rated shows on television – and free publicity all summer long. If sex sold at all in 1977, Soap should dominate.

Soap finally premiered on Tuesday, September 13, 1977, and the critical response was largely mixed to negative. Gary Deeb of the Chicago Tribune dismissed it as “a slimy program,” while Kay Gardella of the New York Daily News condemned it as “a greedy grab for ratings.” Others found the show somewhat amusing but not the groundbreaking comedy the network promised. Most emphasized it as an “adult comedy” that was definitely not safe for children.

Calling Soap a ratings failure would be inaccurate; it pulled in a strong 25.6 Nielsen rating in its debut, meaning around 18.6 million households tuned in. But Soap didn’t set any records, and the debut would prove to be the high-water mark of the show’s audience.

To most people – the press included – the show was an unmitigated success. In a headline chosen more for its pun than its accuracy, the Miami Herald (alongside numerous other papers) declared, “Soap Has Clean Sweep in Ratings.” But the industry trade journal, Broadcast magazine, painted a more subdued and conflicted picture: “For all the pyrotechnics, [the] season’s off to a limp start.”

The impact

The truth is the the protests had more impact than ABC or the newspapers would ever admit. What wasn’t extensively reported was that Soap aired without a full slate of sponsors. At least 11 companies pulled their advertising from the show, including Nissan, J.C. Penney, and Ralston-Purina. Many others were dissuaded from even considering ads due to the NFD’s boycott threats and the potential damage to public image. This could result in significant lost revenue, as the slots would be increasingly discounted or go unfilled entirely, forcing ABC to run its own promos without generating income.

The other thing that went mostly unreported was how the controversy had decreased the number of affiliates who chose to air the show. Protestors had tried to convince affiliates not to air Soap at all, and 18 of the 191 affiliates agreed, representing at least 5.58% of the potential viewing audience (impacting anywhere between 4.1 and 12.9 million households). Although a clear minority, these were not insignificant numbers.

The other impact was that dozens of ABC affiliates delayed the airing from its original 8:30 p.m. Central time slot. In order to limit children’s exposure to the show, some affiliates decided to air it as late as 11:30 p.m. Some of those cities were Birmingham, Alabama; Pensacola, Florida; Miami, Florida; San Antonio, Texas; and Nashville, Tennessee. Chicago’s WLS-TV made its decision to bump the show later as a result of direct talks with Don during his NFD picket back in July.

If there was a failure in the pushback, it was that the outcry peaked before the show’s debut. ABC had received 22,000 complaint letters over the summer, and affiliates braced for hundreds of angry calls on the night of the premiere – but far fewer came in. In 11 of the top 20 TV markets, 1,253 calls were logged: 321 positive and 914 negative. Despite the 72% opposition, media coverage framed the response as minimal, claiming the public outcry had “produced not so much as a whisper,” according to the Kingsport Times News. By ignoring the broader reaction, the press made the opposition seem exaggerated and unfounded.

The outcome

As the fall season wore on, Soap’s viewership lagged behind TV’s biggest hits. ABC executives seethed. The president of ABC Entertainment, Fred Silverman, blasted newspaper critics for their negative reviews of the show. Broadcast magazine reported that the network even paid for its own survey to prove that most viewers loved Soap, despite the bad reviews and moral objections.

Silverman pulled no punches in criticizing groups such as the NFD that had called for a boycott of the show’s sponsors. The Chicago Tribune said he framed their actions as a form of censorship. Addressing a room full of advertising executives, ABC’s president urged them not to “submit to the repressive tactics of pressure groups.” The irony was striking: a powerful broadcaster appealing directly to advertisers in the name of protecting American democracy, while condemning religious groups for doing the same.

The battle over Soap had mostly been lost to the overpowering public relations machine of ABC. Still, the opposition left its mark. Despite respectable ratings and 17 Emmy nominations, Soap never reached the cultural status of shows like All in the Family or M*A*S*H. It ran for only four seasons and was ultimately eclipsed by its own spinoff, Benson, which enjoyed a longer run well into the mid-1980s.

As 1977 came to a close, Don Wildmon was aiming beyond a single television show. He hoped his monitoring program would give the ammunition needed to curb sexual content across all of network television. The resulting report exposed not only the extent of sex on TV, but also a full list of the advertisers underwriting it. And it also revealed the NFD’s next target: the largest retailer in America.