Brian Williams.
He’s both the anchor and the managing editor of the “NBC Nightly News.” He’s the avatar of what network news needs to cling to relevance: a likable, quick-witted, serious-news-and-show biz hybrid. He is largely responsible for his network topping its rivals in Nielsen ratings. There’s a reason why he makes the sort of money normally associated with sports, cinema and social media icons.
But now Brian Williams is also “Lyin’ Brian,” trying to survive a fusillade of criticism and scrutiny over not being truthful about his personal involvement in one or more news stories he has covered. Everyone from cartoonists and tabloid editors to cable-TV satirists and late-night talk-show hosts has been piling on. NBC did its own in-house investigation and has determined that a six-month suspension is warranted.
There’s no lack of irony here.
Williams had no lack of media expertise to call upon. So it was shocking that he didn’t make a more credible “apology” last week about falsely stating that he was on a military chopper in Iraq that came under enemy fire. No public relations novice would have suggested he say he “misremembered.” You don’t “misremember” that which is self-promotional. That’s insulting to your audience. Or that he simply conflated one war zone helicopter ride–one that was traumatic, one that was not–with another. There are no re-takes on heartfelt apologies.
When your credibility is on the line–as it sure in hell should be in the “news” business–you don’t nuance your way through a mea culpa. This isn’t George O’Leary resume-padding at Notre Dame.
If you want to be taken as sincere, you flat-out say you made it up and regrettably yielded to the temptation to “brand” yourself instead of just covering the news, however it breaks. Then hope viewers and bosses accept it and put it into context: You’ve been a first-rate correspondent–from Tahrir Square to presidential one-on-ones–and a ratings-ginning presence as the versatile face of NBC news for the last decade. That should count.
Just a hunch, but there might also be this touch of irony as well. Williams had–or has–it all. The reporting chops, the correspondent cred, the looks, the voice, the grace under fire, the wry wit. He could report from Havana, Cuba or “slow jam the news” with Jimmy Fallon. He could do “30 Rock,” “Letterman” or the GOP National Convention in Tampa.
Williams is the perfect hard news-soft shoe combo for today’s devolving news tastes. But just maybe he really wants to be chief foreign correspondent Richard Engel, who doesn’t have to make anything up. He has six months to figure it out.