It could have been the greatest “Jerry Springer” episode ever.
Talking above the traditional shouts of “Jer-ry, Jer-ry,” Springer would introduce today’s show (entitled “My Congressman Slept With My Daughter … And Now She’s Missing!”) as one of sex, lies and deception. A former politician himself, Springer would prepare the audience by relating his impressions of the high-pressure political world before introducing his first guests, Susan and Dr. Robert Levy.
Members of the audience would be on the verge of tears as Susan told the story of her daughter Chandra’s internship in Washington, how excited she was and how proud Robert and she were to be her parents. But the sympathy of the audience would soon turn to anger as Susan described her daughter’s affair with her Congressman, Gary Condit, while Robert talked about Condit’s suspicious behavior following her disappearance.
The crowd – and the millions of home viewers – would be ready. With a half-smirk on his face in preparation for audience booing, Springer would turn to the camera and say, “Let’s bring out the congressman!”
Condit would remain stone-faced as he emerged from backstage and walked briskly to his chair across from the Levys. Springer would waste no time getting into the details of the affair, but Condit would remain programmed in his “auto-evade” mode and would neither admit nor deny the affair.
As the crowd got louder, Robert’s disgust would boil over. Jumping to his feet and grabbing a chair, he would rush at Condit, yelling, “You slept with my daughter, you bastard, and you know where she is!” The pseudo-stage security would restrain him as he screamed, “Tell me! Tell me!”
“That brings up a good question,” Springer would quickly segue. “Do you know where Chandra is?”
Faced with chants of “Tell us! Tell us!” from the audience, Condit would say he had no idea.
“Care to put it to a lie detector?” Springer would ask.
Condit would have no choice, and they would take him backstage for a polygraph. While the audience awaited the results, Springer would roll footage of Levy home movies as the audience members’ eyes once again became teary.
After a commercial break, the security would bring Condit back and Springer would read the questions and Condit’s answers to the polygraph, one at a time. The audience would be disappointed at the short number of questions Condit was asked, and several would doubt the validity of the test.
But Springer would refuse to let the excitement dissipate. He would then march witness after witness onto the stage, each one claiming to have a different piece of the puzzle, many saying Condit forced her to run away because she was pregnant with his love child. The episode would end in one massive brawl, with witnesses screaming at Condit and Susan trying to rip his hair out. The crowd starts again: “Jer-ry, Jer-ry.”
After another break to clean things up, Springer would give his “Final Thought” about the importance of honesty in such a serious situation, and he would give a tip line for viewers to call in any information on Chandra. The credits would roll, and the producers would already begin planning the reunion episode with Chandra, complete with a DNA test for the baby.
Of course, Springer would never get Condit or the Levys to appear on his show, even with his political experience as the mayor of Cincinnati. But he doesn’t really have to. Everything that would happen in that episode – save the chair-throwing and hair-pulling – already has, courtesy of “respectable television media outlets.”
They have turned a search for a missing woman, a tragic event, into something out of the “Jerry Springer Show.” Lie-detector demands, digging for secrets, mystery witnesses, verbal arguments, chiming in with their own opinions and theories – news and political shows have turned a relatively minor event into a circus. No one should be surprised the audience – the people glued to the Chandra Watch, 12 hours a day for the whole summer – react to any “news” in the search as if they were at a Springer taping.
I don’t mean to say Chandra Levy’s disappearance is not significant: It is significant to her family, her friends and anyone that might be able to help. But for most of the nation, it is about as meaningful as the squabbles on “Springer” – except this episode has lasted an entire summer.
And the audience is still very much involved, thanks to media tactics. Despite no real evidence other than the affair, Gallup polls show more than half the country believes Condit was somehow involved in her disappearance. CNN, ABC and NBC might as well replace half their nightly news anchors and make a bid for Springer himself – after all, they have already legitimized his style of maximizing conflict between parties and manipulating viewer opinion.
Somewhere, I’m sure Peter Jennings is nervous.
