If a tree falls in the woods and nobody’s around, does it make a sound?

Better yet: If a shock jock radio talk show host is fired but nobody’s listening, does it really matter?

The controversy surrounding racist remarks made by former radio talk show host Don Imus—who so very callously referred to members of Rutgers University’s predominantly black women’s basketball team as “nappy-headed hos” on his syndicated radio show—has very rightly resulted in the firing of the DJ by top brass at CBS.

Sure, Imus screwed up big time, and for it, he’s seeing the 28-year run of his show come to an end. But while his actions and hurtful remarks are surely a big deal, the fact that a longtime staple in morning radio no longer exists is not. Imus is done, but do many people really care?

The answer, it seems, is no. And it’s not because Imus’ popularity had specifically waned in recent months, it’s not because people are no longer outraged by acts of racism, and it’s not because there’s an overriding sentiment of sympathy for Imus. People don’t really care because, well, the medium of radio just isn’t that popular anymore. And as a result, the Imus controversy will fade into oblivion.

Radio in its most conventional form is dying. It’s due in part to more strict FCC rules regarding what can and can’t be said on American airwaves, an agenda that hit its stride in the aftermath of Janet Jackson’s Super Bowl “slip” three years ago. It’s the reason why Howard Stern now resides rather peacefully on Sirius Satellite radio, free from the firestorm that followed him during his days on syndicated broadcast radio.

But the medium is also a victim of expanding technology, and death due to evolution is a good thing. Despite the added costs, people are flocking to the various satellite radio broadcasts—in part to hear personalities like Stern, but also in order to get a clear signal with minimal advertisements, a selection many times greater than conventional radio, and more niche-market stations for people with more defined tastes.

Stations are no longer as worried about playing to the masses, thereby diluting their content in an attempt to appease everyone. The content, then, is better, the listeners are happier, and people get less worked up by Imus-like personalities whose soapboxes aren’t as high as they are on regular radio.

Broadcast stations have other sources to thank for their perilous place in the media, too. As the prevalence of the iPod has increased, people have become ever-so dependent on their personal music-playing devices. The ability to carry one’s personal collection around, accessing old favorites and recently downloaded hits at the slight shift of a thumb, has replaced the frustration of waiting for your favorite radio station to play your song of choice.

Sports fans, too, have discovered the next generation of radio. We as college students often find ourselves far out of the range of catching the broadcast of our favorite team at home. We can usually catch the game on satellite, however. That’s something that shouldn’t be taken lightly—in a world of constant interstate travel, broadcast radio just isn’t enough.

And while it may seem as if the transition is apparent for drivers—in the car is where satellite has seen much of its success thus far—the radio has all but drawn its last breath in conventional homes, too. Radio was what ushered us into the generations of in-home broadcast entertainment, but the stakes are infinitely higher today. The television has long since taken its spot as the king of the home entertainment system, but now, radio doesn’t even play second fiddle.

Imus’ comments didn’t raise much of an eyebrow the morning they happened. Either the people who were listening didn’t care much, or there just really weren’t that many people listening. The resulting backlash makes it clear that it’s not the former. No, people just didn’t know that anything had been said until liberal watchdog Media Matters for America broke the story (online, mind you) much later that evening.

The Internet trumped radio in the case of Imus’ comments, and in pretty much every other way, too. It’s a quick YouTube search—not a re-broadcast at a random time on a random radio station—that allows anyone to hear the comments themselves. The radio is where the controversy started, but it will surely finish elsewhere.

It’s a bit sad to see the radio go—countless memorable historical moments were conveyed via the little box with the silver antenna—and it will surely have a place with other nostalgic mediums of yesteryear, alongside the VHS, cassette tape, and the also-dying low-definition television.

But change is a good thing. And when our tastes as a society change—when we begin to expect more from the avenues in which we hear our news or our music—the transformation is wholeheartedly welcomed.



Malcom A. Glenn ’09 is a history concentrator in Leverett House. His column appears on alternate Tuesdays.