Dead Air

Heller had taken aim and fired at the most obvious target, Marrazzo's salary, but between the lines of her story is another tale, of a man who became CEO at WHYY - a public broadcasting company - without any broadcast experience. What he did have was a background in business and the city's circles of power, including political connections going back decades in Philadelphia, where he served in the Rizzo, Green and Goode administrations.

To Marrazzo's credit, he has delivered a series of business victories during his 10-year tenure at WHYY, more than satisfying the people he most needs to please - a board of directors that seems to believe he's worth every penny and then some. But that support may best reveal the shortcomings of the WHYY we've come to know under Marrazzo's stewardship. A natural schism exists between the business people who sit on 'HYY's board and the rest of us. They may get aroused over balance sheets. But as consumers, we turn on our televisions. And what a close look at those swirling pixels tells us is an old Philadelphia story, in which a narrow constituency of influential citizens is satisfied enough to keep smiling its way through cocktail parties while the rest of us sit at home and watch Lawrence Welk.


I SPENT a couple of days this summer observing the goings-on at WHYY, and what struck me was what could be interpreted as a lack of ambition to do public television. In fact, the in-house publicity staff professed hope that I would write a story about all the things the station does other than broadcasting, sitting me down with the directors of the adult and youth educational services divisions of 'HYY — representing a minuscule portion of the station's budget.

This seemed a curious pitch for a broadcasting company to make — akin to a steakhouse waiter leaning down and whispering, "You really should try the fish." Then again, why not divert attention from a TV station that's been turned off?

Less than 10 percent of 'HYY's weekly television schedule across three channels is locally produced fare. That published schedule doesn't include the smaller spots produced to air between shows. But these short pieces only reflect what local television programming is at WHYY — an afterthought.

So what are we getting for our pledge dollars? Because WHYY's television operation is licensed in Delaware, Philadelphia is forced to endure Delaware Tonight, a weeknight public affairs program about news we're not following (there's no corresponding program about Philadelphia); we also get an edited video version of Moss-Coane's radio talk show and a series chronicling performances at the Curtis Center. The Next Mayor project, a TV/radio/web initiative that arguably has been WHYY's greatest journalistic achievement in the past few years, offered issues-oriented insight into a crucial primary. But the project also employs the resources of the Daily News, and does what the rest of WHYY's television lineup fails to do: It matters.