He may or
may not have been wrong. But he was
sincere. And believe me, there are worse
things.
This has not been a fabulous week for Dr. Mehmet C.
Oz, a.k.a “Dr. Oz,” host of the TV show by the same name. A senate subcommittee investigating false weight
loss advertising claims gave him the third degree for touting certain suspect substances
on his popular program, flat-out accusing him of making false statements to his
audience. In the aftermath, news organizations
across the country ran stories about his public spanking. A medical reporter for Fox News called him a “snake
oil pitchman.” CNN’s story ran a banner
exclaiming in big capital letters “Dr. Oz accused of peddling bogus drugs.”
The problem with the latter is that Dr. Oz didn’t “peddle”
anything. There is no evidence that any
of the information on his program was paid advertising. Oz specifically denied that it was. Further, in legal terms the substances are
not drugs—“bogus” or otherwise. They are
dietary supplements, are legal for sale, and their effectiveness has not been
disproved (although, to be sure, nor have scientists confirmed the benefits).
What Dr. Oz did do was to endorse, with gusto, the
claims that the supplements work, thereby throwing the full weight of his substantial
credibility behind the products. Sales reportedly
went through the roof, and that’s what has the senators’ shorts in a bunch.
Dr. Oz is not some random piece of weirdness of
the street. He’s chairman and professor
of surgery at Columbia University College of Physicians and Surgeons. That’s a pretty prestigious gig. Dr. Oz reportedly has authored more than 400
research papers—productivity that would be impressive by any standard. But what he’s not is a trained
journalist. And if there’s a point where
his program ran off the rails, it was there.
One of the products Dr. Oz endorsed is Garcinia
cambogia, which is an extract taken from the tamarind fruit. Dr. Oz introduced the initial 2012 segment by
pointing out that one question he gets asked a lot is, “How
can I burn fat without spending every waking moment dieting and exercising?” A graphic behind him emphasized the point,
displaying the phrases “NO EXERCISE,” “NO DIET,” and “NO EFFORT,” in all
caps. Dr. Oz then went on to say that Garcinia
cambogia just might be the answer, calling it a “revolutionary fat buster.”
At this point he introduced what gray-headed old TV
news guys like me would call a “package,” a pre-recorded piece about the
substance. It presented the product enthusiastically
and uncritically, and offered no alternative viewpoints. The story interviewed two “experts,” but did
not attempt to explain the credentials of either one to the audience. So I did some checking on my own. One is a college professor. Significantly, I found an essay he later co-wrote
on Garcinia cambogia in which he acknowledges that studies of its effectiveness
have produced “divergent and contradictory outcomes” (he goes on to say the
extract can work if handled very
carefully). The other expert is not employed
as a scholar but rather is a nutritionist who’s worked for various private
companies.
Following the piece, Dr. Oz interviewed a doctor
on the set, also neglecting to explain what credentials, if any, she has on
this particular dietary supplement. A
check of her background shows she is indeed a respected physician in private
practice and also a prolific magazine and web author. In response to a question from Dr. Oz, this
expert agreed that Garcinia cambogia can lead to weight loss, but she
emphasized the need for proper diet and
exercise at the same time, which completely negated the premise that Dr. Oz
had set out at the beginning. Dr. Oz skipped
right over this point. When he asked her
point blank whether she would recommend this substance, the expert said she
would, but not primarily because of
any weight loss benefit. Dr. Oz glided
over that point, too. Neither Dr. Oz nor
his guest sourced any of their information other than with vague references to “studies,”
“research,” and “excited scientists.” Missing
was any sense of who conducted these supposed studies, when they were
conducted, whether other studies had obtained the same results, and what kind
of reaction, if any, the studies were provoking from the scientific and medical
communities. The two of them capped off
the segment with an interview from an attractive lady who claimed to have lost
two dress sizes while taking the extract.
Astonishingly—given the premise of the segment—neither asked this guest whether
she also dieted or exercised while taking the substance..
So, journalistically speaking, the story was not a
giant. I doubt many journalism
professors would have given it a passing grade; I am one news TV director who
certainly wouldn’t have approved it for air.
Consumers reportedly stampeded to buy the product anyway, though, fueled
in part by advertisements quoting Dr. Oz.
He says those advertisements used his name and image without his
permission and that he’s gone to court to try to stop it.
So if the journalism doesn’t add up, why am I not
more bothered?
Here’s why:
no one is accusing Dr. Oz of taking money to say what he said. He told Congress his beliefs that the
products have merit are sincere. Indeed,
the scientific evidence is mixed at best, but the effectiveness of the products
in question by and large has not been disproved. He
insists he took no money to tout the supplements. “I don't sell this stuff,” he told
viewers. “I'm not making any money on
this. I'm not going to mention any
brands to you either.” No one has
suggested that this statement was in any way false or misleading. Dr. Oz may or may not have been right in his
analysis, but he wasn’t dishonest about it.
I’ve had personal experience with the latter
problem. The truth is, as a consumer you
can’t be sure whether what you see, even on traditional, mainstream newscasts,
is news or advertising. Would it shock
you to learn that some TV stations take money to put people on the news? It happens.
When I was a news director, I was approached for such services on
occasion. Every now and then you’ll hear
about a news director resigning rather than give in to such a dishonest practice. Mostly, when stealth advertising—a commercial
masquerading as straight news or information—gets sneaked into a newscast or
talk show, you simply never know about it, and you take the “news” story or
information at face value. Such uncritical
acceptance is, of course, the entire point, given that news carries much more credibility
than advertising. I’ve written and
talked about stealth advertising in the past, and I’m not the only one. Yet the public is
largely unaware of the issue.
There are FCC regulations against hiding
sponsorship connections in news and information programming, but you rarely if
ever hear of enforcement. I have heard
from more than one news director over the years who’ve faced a very simple
decision: give in to pressure to provide
news coverage for an advertiser (the pressure can come in many forms), refuse and
risk the job consequences, or refuse and quit.
What would you do? My experience is that most do not
refuse. And even when one does walk
rather than give in to a dishonest and unethical practice, that person’s
replacement typically carries out the program, and in the end you’re left with
one less ethical news manager in the business, and one less station where an
honest news director can land a job.
I can’t tell you how widespread this problem
is. I can only tell you that,
anecdotally, I’ve run across it many times, have had to fight it on occasion,
and know of others who’ve faced the same issue, not always successfully.
Some stations, wishing to provide enhanced long-form
advertising services but not wishing to cross any ethical lines, offer entertainment/talk
programs for that specific purpose. Usually
(but not always) such programs do not masquerade as newscasts, and none of the
station’s journalists are involved. I
personally have no problem with such programs at all, provided the advertising
connection is disclosed, as most do. As
a news director, I’ve peacefully co-existed with such programs within the same
building. As an author, I’ve appeared on
them, and was glad and privileged to do so.
They’re not the problem, and in fact provide a worthwhile and perfectly
honorable service.
But if the information is not labeled as
advertising when it is such, then that does
present a problem. In one past job, I
fought hard to have such a program (produced by another department within the
TV station where I was working at the time) honestly and clearly label its paid
content. In a meeting with the company
CEO, I cued up a recent segment where the program host was touting a magnet
that was alleged to cure all manner of maladies. Lying down on the set’s coffee table, he
placed the magnet on his abdomen. “I can
feel the difference already!” he gushed, or words to that effect. Maybe he did.
Maybe he didn’t. In making that
judgment, you, the viewer, should be allowed to know whether an advertiser paid
him to say that. And I’m here to tell
you that you can’t always know—not for talk shows, and not even for some mainstream
newscasts.
Dr. Oz does not seem to fall into that category. He has an impressive level of expertise and
is entitled to his opinions. And
certainly, the public is entitled to hold him accountable for them. His credibility turns on your perception of
whether he knows what he’s talking about.
As it should. He may or may not
be right about the dietary substances he touted. But there’s no evidence to suggest he’s in
any way dishonest. And believe me, that
is not nothing.
###
Find out
more about the inner workings of TV news in my novel, Messages. It’s
a work of fiction, but contains a lot of truth—some of which may surprise you.
©2014 by Forrest Carr. All rights reserved.
©2014 by Forrest Carr. All rights reserved.
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