In 1949, when a disenchanted Berkeley broadcaster named Lewis Hill founded KPFA, no station like it existed anywhere in America. For two decades, radio had been evolving, or devolving, from a craft into a profession. The heady early days of broadcasting, of easy entry and experimentation, were long past; the airwaves were now corporate property, an arrangement imposed and
policed by federal regulators. Small regional stations and border radio offered listeners a few alternatives to the standard network fare, and a handful of visionaries within the system sometimes managed to push creative wares past the usual wall of white noise. But those were aberrations.
Mainstream radio was streamlined, predictable, and monopolized by people who wanted to keep it that way.

KPFA was different. The only prerequisite for getting a show there was, in the words of Hill's biographer John Whiting, "that the broadcasters possess minds whose contents, however eccentric, were worth sharing." The station's commentators ranged from Trotskyists to Georgists to Casper Weinberger; its music ranged from opera to jazz to John Cage, as well as the vast variety of
styles that marketers today lump together as "world music." KPFA was the first station of the Pacifica network; it would soon be joined by WBAI in New York, KPFK in Los Angeles, KPFT in Houston, and WPFW in Washington. More importantly, it was the first of a new kind of radio station, what later came to be known as *community radio*. Community radio eschews formats and
playlists in favor of genre-mixing freeform, deep-focus specialty shows, and ideologically diverse talk programming; it values financial independence, volunteer management, political irreverence, and creative, risk-taking, locally-based programs. It is the opposite of "professional" broadcasting,
commercial or public.

The young KPFA reflected the anarchist and pacifist ethos of 1940s Bay Area bohemia. The poet Kenneth Rexroth, an early participant in the station, has attributed the anarchist revival of that place and time to the ongoing local interaction between avant-garde artists, disillusioned Reds, and
conscientious objectors (such as Hill) who labored in work camps along the west coast and came to San Francisco on their leaves. Rexroth's recollections are accurate and informative, but there was more to Pacifican anarchism than his account suggests. Anarchism has traditionally appealed
not only to bohemians and pacifists but to craftsmen, artisans, independent producers -- those with what Paul Goodman called "a hankering for craft guild self-management." If radio had become a typically hierarchical credentialed profession, more managerial than meritocratic, any revolt of
independent radio craftsmen was bound to be anarchist, in impulse if nothing else. The result was a station dedicated not only to musical variety but to unfettered free speech; one that refused both government and corporate funds, preferring the then-untried notion of turning to its listeners for
sponsorship.

What a difference five decades can make. Today, Pacifica soaks down about a million dollars in federal subsidies each year, applies to the Pew Charitable Trust and other corporate foundations for yet more outside money, fires volunteers who criticize station policy while on the air, and occupies
a predictable political niche, self-righteously P.C. but as averse to the genuinely radical as it is to the right-of-center. (Long gone are the days when a Pacifica volunteer would read the John Birch Society's *Blue Book* over the air, sans tut-tutting commentary, so that listeners might simply
better understand what all the fuss was about.) Interesting, unusual shows are being dropped, to make way for what former KPFK shop steward Lyn Gerry calls "annoying clusters of soundbites interrupted by little blurbs of music." Critics charge the larger network with an intense effort to
centralize programming and break any force that blocks the path to NPRification -- even if that means traversing its professed progressive values and trying to bust its employees' and volunteers' union.

Needless to say, that is not how Pacifica's managers prefer to describe the changes underway. "I hear all these stories," complains Executive Director Patricia Scott. "I read the Internet, and I listen to questions from people like you writing about this stuff, and it's so far removed from reality. . .
. What you're doing is you're taking statements from a small group of people that have been fired. And they represent no mass movement of people in Pacifica stations."

Well. For the record, I've interviewed both current and former Pacifica employees, and concerned listeners as well; what's more, several of the ex-programmers I interviewed were let go only after they protested the turn their stations were taking. Others simply left without being axed.
Furthermore, different dissidents offered different complaints, some in radical contrast to one another --further undermining the theory that Pacifica's critics are a single "small group." For example, one listener prefers KPFK's revamped programming to the material it replaced. "It is the Byzantine in-fighting and secrecy, and refusal to figure out a way to incorporate member participation and communication, that I deplore." And most of the dissidents concede that the network needed some sort of change -- just not the kind it's gotten.

For management's side of the story, one might turn to the foundation's development director, Dick Bunce, who has drafted a "strategic five-year plan" outlining the network's intentions, titled "A Vision for Pacifica Radio: Creating a Network for the 21st Century." Anyone who doubts the
essentially bureaucratic mindset of the new Pacifica should reflect on that title for a while -- and then, if he can stomach it, on the prose that follows:

"In the half century since the Pacifica Foundation was incorporated, the worlds of public radio, broadcasting, and the media have been through multiple transformations. The present and onrushing future is no less dynamic in opportunities and risks for Pacifica Radio. Patricia Scott,
Executive Director of Pacifica, believes that we stand at an 'unmarked crossroads' in the life of our network, 'where a failure of the will necessary to make investments in our franchise could trigger the beginning of our demise. Imagination and a new sense of purpose in Pacifica can make
us a national force, defining the course of electronic journalism, not being defined by it.' Challenging the network to address improved methods of impacting political discourse and culture, Scott and Pacifica's leadership committed extensive time, energy and resources in 1996 to strategic
planning. We sought to take measure of our circumstances, identify our opportunities and options, our resources and barriers."

There you have it. The Pacifica of Kenneth Rexroth has given way to the Pacifica of an "onrushing future" that is "dynamic in opportunities and risks," of "impacting political discourse and culture," of "multiple transformations" and "strategic planning" and "investments in our franchise." These aren't phrases; they're wordclots. Former KPFA volunteer Maria Gilardin, already disillusioned with Pacifica, nonetheless finds Bunce's language disturbing. "What muddled thinking is hiding behind these words?" she asks. "What obfuscation? . . . They should get their money back. It is just a boilerplate that some consultant sold them."

The first half of the five-year plan is given over to decrying the state of the media landscape. A shrinking number of trusts controls the press, Bunce complains, and the Republican Hordes are set to cut off the Corporation for Public Broadcasting. (Playing the Gingrich-bogeyman card is rather
disingenuous. As one former KPFK worker told me, "Newt Gingrich is not a threat. Pacifica was poised to profit greatly off of Newt Gingrich. All you had to do was be there and basically say, 'We criticized Gingrich.' And the money would come in.")

"If public funding is eliminated," Bunce notes, "chances are the dominant players in public radio -- NPR, PRI [Public Radio International] and their satellite-driven franchise stations -- will replace federal support with commercial support." That leaves Pacifica to rescue listeners starved for
intelligent, critical analysis. "The opportunity is ours."

And how will Pacifica exploit this opportunity? It's hard to tell, if all you have to go by is their five-year plan. As Gilardin says, this is boilerplate stuff - "so vague it could apply to anything." Among its recommendations:

"Maximize the use of Pacifica's resources."
"Stay abreast of new developments in technology of potential significance to Pacifica."
"Establish and maintain a healthy work culture."
"Exploit economies of scale."
"Establish local readiness criteria and basic minimum standards."

Shovel through the mush, though, and you'll discover that Pacifica has decided to adopt the very practice Bunce bemoans in NPR and PRI: to become a network of satellite-driven franchise stations. As Gerry puts it, Pacifica's managers "see a vacuum created as NPR goes more corporate, and intend to fill it."

Pacifica always seems to be undergoing one upheaval or another, and today's dissidents have had trouble convincing outsiders that the present tensions are more than just another faction war. And in fact, the current conflict is rooted in internal battles past. The war at Pacifica was a long time in the
making.

Some trace the troubles as far back as the 1960s, when the network's governing board transformed itself (illegally, some say) from a democratic body elected from below into a largely self-perpetuating institution. Others point to mid-'70s, when Pacifica started accepting government subsidies. The
'70s also saw staff revolts at several stations, leading the network in a "Third Worldist" direction that some see as Pacifica's glory days but others regard as the beginning of the end. By their account, the revolts launched a period of inconsistent patchwork-quilt programming, inadvertently paving the
way for reformers to move too far in the other direction -- and inadvertently introducing the poisonous language of multicultural one-upmanship to the network, a game the Scott regime would prove itself all too able to play even as it wiped out actual signs of cultural diversity. (Russell Jacoby's warning that multiculturalism is usually the agent of monoculturalism seems apropos.)

For Whiting, the key date is 1985. Prior to that year, non-commercial stations were not allowed to rent out their subcarriers -- "sideband" frequencies that don't interfere with the primary signal. After that year's broadcast deregulation, they could. The result, writes Whiting, was a windfall: "Having got into FM on the ground floor, [Pacifica] now owned half-a-dozen high-output transmitters on elevated sites in big urban centers, whose by-products were suddenly worth a small fortune." The catch: "In order to guarantee that the bonanza would not be frittered away on running expenses, the national board quickly staked its claim to the sub carriers of all the stations." Suddenly, the board had a giant pot of money that didn't have to percolate up from the member stations. The dynamic of
power shifted from the individual station managers to the network's executive director.

Meanwhile, over the course of the 1980s and 1990s, advocates of more centralized programming gradually took over Pacifica's national board, by some accounts weeding out opponents with false accusations of racism. (Scott vigorously denies this charge.) At KPFA, Scott became general manager and began clearing house, eliminating departments that lay outside her control
and moving the station into more upscale facilities. Dissidents began calling her a "Yuppie Stalinist" -- the latter as much for her P.C. bludgeon and her past membership in the Communist Party as for her autocratic management style. From KPFA, Scott advanced to become executive director of
the Pacifica Foundation and the person most responsible for changing the network's off-air management and on-air sound.

Few would dispute that the old Pacifica's programming required reform. Many of its news and public affairs programmers were overly cozy with the left political establishment, particularly in Berkeley, a city where socialists wield substantial power at City Hall. Furthermore, on a radio spectrum
already carved into extremely finely tuned niches, its stations' schedules sometimes seemed like yet another patchwork. The problem wasn't the diversity -- indeed, that was the network's strength -- but the feeling that a lot of the hosts weren't listening to anyone else's shows. The result could sound more like coalition radio than community radio.

But Pacifica's ties to the left political establishment have grown tighter under Scott et al. And though the new guard recognized the second problem, their solution was not to weave the little communities together, but to snuff them out. Listeners have begun complaining of a "bland," more "homogeneous" sound, as radical and oddball programs disappear from the airwaves and more streamlined fare takes their place. Again, not all the cuts were necessarily bad ideas, as anyone who's suffered through the "American Atheist Hour" can attest. But when the network cans an intelligent, important host such as William Mandel, for decades Pacifica's widely respected commentator on Soviet affairs, something more than cleaning up the driftwood is afoot.

In the meantime, here is a quick rundown of the results of Scott's reforms:

--Labor Troubles--

At present, the United Electrical, Radio, and Machine Workers of America represents both paid workers and volunteers at two of Pacifica's stations, and paid workers alone at a third. One wouldn't expect a radio network associated with the political left to have a serious dispute with its union,
any more than one would expect Jimmy Swaggart to hire prostitutes or Pat Buchanan to drive a foreign car. So more than a few eyebrows were raised last summer when dissidents charged Pacifica with hiring the American Consulting Group as its labor relations firm. The ACG is on the AFL-CIO's
roster of union-busters, and the contract it is advancing would decertify Pacifica's volunteer staff -- nine-tenths of its union. It is this decertification that has prompted the network's ongoing labor problems, and not, as many have assumed, any dispute over wages and benefits.

Pacifica initially denied that ACG was a union-busting company. Scott then minimized the amount the network paid the group, claiming that the contract was for only $1,000, and not over $30,000 as her critics had claimed. Union activists replied that this was entirely inconsistent with the amounts other
companies have paid ACG for its services.

While it's difficult to discern what exactly went on between Pacifica and ACG, it's clear that the network's managers have had trouble keeping their stories straight. Thus, Scott told me that "we hired a lawyer that we subsequently found out was associated with this same organization. And the
minute we found out this lawyer was associated with ACG, we terminated his relationship with our organization too." Yet after *Current* magazine published an article about Pacifica's labor troubles, Scott wrote a letter to the editor describing ACG as "a *firm* that was advising us on labor law
and other matters" (emphasis added). The *Current* feature itself also described several contradictory statements. For example: "[WBAI General Manager Valerie] Van Isler says Pacifica hired ACG to 'help review and consolidate the three contracts.' But Scott says ACG has only advised Pacifica on labor law and that she herself drew up the contract."

Eventually, under the glare of bad PR, Pacifica broke relations with ACG. The labor dispute, however, continues. The root issue here is not the hypocrisy of employing ACG, nor the deceit in lying about it. It is the long-term implications of pushing unpaid staff out of the union. Max Schmid,
a shop steward at WBAI, speculated to *Current* about what Pacifica's hierarchs have in mind: "Once they have all the satellite and transmission technology in place, they can centralize programming . . . and basically have satellite units around the country, with limited staff who make sure the transmitter is working and the feed is going out properly from headquarters."

Schmid's picture seems unnecessarily bleak -- the network isn't likely to strip member stations of *all* volunteer input and local identity. And to date, Pacifica's national programs have been produced in different cities. But the trend at Pacifica is indisputably toward centralized, "professional"
programming. When the Pacifica stations' program directors and general managers met in Albuquerque on February 27, 1995, David Giovannoni delivered a presentation on how the network might increase its ratings and increase its intake of donations. His conclusions were recorded in the minutes:

"David suggested that Pacifica begin to pool programming because centralizing programming lowers the cost of producing it by 80%. It needs to define a national community to which it can appeal -- it should re-think its concept of community -- toward communities of interest and program to these
interests. . . . He also thinks that the national office should mandate a schedule -- sharing programs should not be optional."

In February, the National Labor Relations Board ruled that WBAI could not decertify its volunteers. Station management is expected to appeal the decision. * Management did appeal this decision, which is still pending - ed.

--Blander, Less Locally-Derived Programming--

Giovannoni's idea of a mandated schedule was not new. In 1993, Pacifica central began pushing a regimen of national programming on its stations, which would in turn have to drop local (and often better) shows to make room for the satellite feed. A national program adopted by three Pacifica
stations would become a "must carry" for the other two; furthermore, decreed the board, "The National Program Director has the authority to declare a program a must carry based on . . . news value and urgency."

Things came to a head when WBAI refused to continue airing "The Julianne Malvaux Show," a slick and expensive gabfest hosted by the leftist *USA Today* columnist. WBAI staff complained that Malvaux's program was dumbed-down and soundbite-driven, and that they could better fill her time
on their own. Dissidents at other stations agreed. (The program has since been cancelled -- not for lack of staff support, but for lack of funds. Sources differ as to whether "The Julianne Malvaux Show" was a must-carry or simply a show that the national office pushed hard.)

The flipside of more national programming is less local programming. Houston's KPFT, for example, has dumped most of its locally produced talk shows in favor of syndicated talkers and "Adult Album Alternative" music. Much of the latter was also syndicated, produced by paid programmers in
Pennsylvania and beamed to Texas via satellite. Ironically, these changes came almost immediately after the winter fund-drive, the theme of which was "save community programming."

Granted: managers at Pacifica have long complained, with some justification, that on-air volunteers had an improperly proprietary attitude toward their timeslots. In the words of Peter Franck, a former president of the Pacifica Foundation and no friend to the current regime, "There's a tacit, very
strong agreement amongst the staff, 'You don't challenge my lock on this half-hour, I won't challenge your competence.'" Unfortunately, when the new guard started clearing house, their decisions seemed to have less to do with competence than with preppifying Pacifica's image. Long-beloved programs devoted to ethnic music or radical commentary were axed. What replaced them?
Astrology shows. Money-management shows. And, of course, that satellite feed.

--Conflicts With Affiliates--

Pacifica offers its satellite programs to other community stations as well, leading to yet another dispute. Its new contract with its affiliates includes this rather vague clause: "Pacifica may terminate this Agreement .. . if Station dilutes the good will associated with Pacifica's name." Many
stations suspect that this would not allow any on-air criticism, or even discussion, of the changes at the network, and have asked Pacifica to alter or drop the clause. Thus far, it has refused, leading several stations to stopped carrying the Pacifica news.

Several radio workers, many of them volunteers at Austin's KOOP, have begun working on an alternative news show, to consist of reports taken from community and micro stations around the country. The new program would be distributed, not via an expensive satellite system, but through the much cheaper medium of the Internet. Their ongoing efforts can be viewed on-line,
at http://www.radio4all.org/radio/

--Secretive Management--

In the meantime, Pacifica's national board took to meeting behind closed doors. In fall 1996, Take Back KPFA, a group of listeners and former KPFA programmers concerned with the direction of the network, filed a complaint with the Corporation for Public Broadcasting, arguing that the board's
closed "retreats" violate the open meetings requirement imposed on stations that receive CPB funding.

CPB first assigned Brian McConville to investigate Take Back KPFA's charges. Shortly afterwards, in November, he was fired. Then Mike Donovan took over the investigation; in February, before he could release his report, he too was dismissed. Finally, Armando J. Arvizu released an audit on April 9, 1997.

Arvizu decided that, "with few minor exceptions," Pacifica personnel did not deliberate on foundation business at their retreats; therefore, he concluded, they were legal. Otherwise, he came down hard on the network, declaring that Pacifica's closed board meetings violated the Communications
Act. "The public was not being offered the opportunity to observe Board of Directors' deliberations," wrote Arvizu, "as all board sessions were being held in closed session, with the exception of one hour for Public Comments." Pacifica was also judged guilty of giving insufficient advance notice of the meetings. Furthermore, the network's local advisory boards "were not being
provided with the autonomy they needed to perform their functions."

Vindication? Morally, yes; legally, no. On May 19, the CPB Board held a public meeting, putatively to determine how it would react to its auditor's report. Jack O'Dell spoke on behalf of Pacifica; Jeffrey Blankfort spoke on behalf of Take Back KPFA. But CPB had already decided what it would do: in a statement drafted *before *the meeting, it declared that it saw no reason to
reduce or eliminate KPFA's subsidy. Rather than accept Arvizu's conclusion that the network's board meetings were improper, the board would produce new open-meetings guidelines. In effect, the CPB rejected its inspector general's report.

The board added that it "wishes to commend Pacifica for actions taken in recent years to strengthen and improve operations and programming."

Are the changes worth it? That depends on how you feel about Pacifica's last incarnation. "I listen to KPFA now all the time," one former station employee recently told me. "I think it is a much better radio station than it was . . . in the 1980s, and I am very encouraged by its current air sound. To listen to people talk about KPFA today, you would think the programming is some hideous disaster surreptitiously controlled by the Republican Party."

Blankfort disagrees. The old station "certainly had its faults," he concedes, "and was, in fact, already moving in its present direction. But it still had a life, a certain vitality, that is anathema to the incompetent control freaks currently in charge."

I live in Seattle, where my only regular window into Pacifica's programs is the network's syndicated newscast, carried each weekday evening by a Bellevue college station. My travels sometimes bring me within range of a Pacifica outlet's signal --usually KPFT -- but I mostly depend on other
people's comments about the network's programming. I will concede the possibility that most of my friends are misinforming me, and that when I've listened to Pacifica programs myself I've simply been catching them on bad nights.

But even if all the changes in Pacifica's programming were necessary and good, the changes in the network itself would still be indefensible. Pacifica has become high-handed, authoritarian, and bureaucratic. It has set itself at odds with the spirit of alternative radio.

*(Postscript: Shortly before this issue went to press, Pat Scott announced her resignation as executive director of Pacifica. But the trends she did so much to steward forward remain in place, and Pacifica management has yet to show any interest in reversing them. That will require steady pressure from both within and without the network.)*