This month marks the 50th anniversary of a much-revered classic of American cinema, All The President’s Men.
The 1976 movie starring Robert Redford and Dustin Hoffman was an adaptation of Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein’s 1974 book of investigative journalism detailing their two-year unravelling of the Watergate conspiracy. The shocking scandal brought down a president and profoundly shook Americans’ trust in government.
On June 17 1972, operatives working for President Richard Nixon’s Committee for the Re-election of the President (often satirically referred to as CREEP) were caught breaking into the Democrat party’s national headquarters at the Watergate complex in Washington. The subsequent attempted cover-up eventually led to the resignation of Nixon and many in his administration going to jail.
The book and film led to several words and phrases entering the popular lexicon, including “deep throat” as shorthand for informants, the expression “follow the money” and of course the use of the word “gate” tacked on at the end of a word to denote a scandal. The film is probably the most famous movie about journalism ever made and helped shape the public’s view of who journalists were and how they functioned.
In many ways it’s strange to see an America where the media were so trusted. At the time a significant majority of Americans held the view that if the Washington Post or New York Times printed something, then it must be true. This is in contrast to today where trust in the US media is at an all-time low.
Woodward and Bernstein’s success was partly helped by the fact that the news cycle was a lot slower. Newspapers only went to print once or twice a day, so journalists had valuable time to check sources, look at records and discuss what they were doing with colleagues and editors.
Crucially, if they weren’t sure of the merits of a story, it was easier to shelve it for the next day. The current 24-hour news cycle makes this much more difficult. Journalists are under constant pressure to publish as soon as possible, leaving far less time for verification and reflection. Speed is rewarded over accuracy and the competitive scramble to be first can mean stories go out before they are fully formed.
The funding model is also fundamentally different. Many local newspapers were owned by families who lived in the cities where they were based and had been there for generations (in the case of the Washington Post with Katherine Graham). They often had a personal stake in the community.
There were still press barons, for instance William Randolph Hearst. The Orson Welles film Citizen Kane was based on his life story. But even at their most powerful, these proprietors operated within a media ecosystem where credibility was the currency that kept readers buying.
The media was funded by sales and advertising, giving journalists the freedom to work on a story. Today, by contrast, there is a focus on chasing clicks with articles either made up of lists or with clickbait headlines designed to be shared across social media.
How the press shaped the national agenda
The early 1970s was a world where the press were just as important – if not more so – than TV in shaping the national agenda. While commentators and columnists such as Walter Winchell had always been celebrities, the film established the idea of journalists as household names in their own right.
This has arguably been problematic in some ways as it could be claimed that it encouraged a more ego-driven approach to reporting, where the journalist-as-hero narrative risks making the story about the person covering it rather than the subject itself.
It was also an environment where the media still focused on the idea of reporting the news rather than making it. Today many media platforms explicitly market themselves as investigative journalism and see their role as setting the agenda. More traditional outlets see this as the media becoming too activist and ideological. There are proponents on both sides of the debate; All The President’s Men seems to take the view that the media report the news and the public decide how to interpret it.
However, the film’s very existence complicates that position. Woodward and Bernstein did not merely report events – they led the debate. The question of whether the press should be a mirror held up to power or a force that actively shapes political outcomes is still ongoing.
It’s worth noting that 1976 also saw the release of Network. This movie was entirely fictional and told the story of a broadcaster, played by Peter Finch, who has a mental breakdown live on air. He becomes “the mad prophet of the airwaves”, telling his audience to shout out of the window: “I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take it any more!”
While All The President’s Men served as a monument to what the press had achieved and what it could and should be, Network, though billed as outrageous satire at the time, has proven a significantly more accurate prediction of the future.
In the film the TV network is owned by a vast corporation with financial interests in several other areas. While Woodward and Bernstein are professionals doing their job, they do it largely without animosity. Their goal is to uncover the truth of the Watergate conspiracy, not to bring down the president. Network predicted a world where profit is everything and media and politics are fundamentally adversarial, with reporters aiming to make their audience as angry as possible.
Fifty years on, the question is not which film got it right (all the evidence suggests Network). It is whether the world All The President’s Men celebrated was already vanishing, even as audiences and critics were praising it.