I heard one of my heroes, Michael Kinsley, on the radio today as I was listening to NPR. In the face of a chorus of approval over the cancellation of "CrossFire", Kinsley defended the program, of which he was formerly the host. Kinsley's argument was that journalists were more honest, and issues more fully explored, when the journalists were free to be themselves and to express their own point of view. As for the shows "gotcha" format, he also defended the use of questions along the lines of "When did you stop beating your wife?" Kinsley's point was that such questions either force a politician to give a thoughtful answer or to engage in a transparent evasion. For Kinsley, Crossfire at its best was a quintessential exercise in democracy.
Kinsley made essentially the same points years ago in Slate:
To start, it is honest in a way the other shows are not. Virtually all the political talk shows require journalists to adopt one of two dishonest postures: agnosticism or omniscience. On traditional Q&A shows like Meet the Press, journalists must pretend that they are neutral observers who have no opinion about the subject at hand. This is not only dishonest, but it also limits their ability to frame sharp questions and to pursue evasive answers. On opinion-spouting shows like The McLaughlin Group, by contrast, journalists (often the same journalists) are free to have a point of view. Indeed, they are required to have, or to pretend to have, a passionate and fully informed viewpoint on every subject that comes along. How many of those opining solemnly on the Indonesian financial crisis this past week know (or care) squat about Indonesian finance?
Crossfire's basic fuel is the tendentious question. As a host, you needn't pretend to be impartial or pretend to be all-knowing. This is more honest, and it's also more effective in getting at the truth. Or at least, that is the premise of Anglo-American jurisprudence, which uses the same model. (For the neutral-interrogator approach, try France.)
Right or wrong, never dull.