June 16, 2006
 
COMMENTARY: Life As a Nielsen Family
 
By Steve Brewer
Scripps Howard News Service
 
Our family had our brush with show-business greatness, and we blew it. We recently were a Nielsen family for a week. It was our opportunity to have some say-so in the television industry, to cast our vote for quality programming.
 
The Nielsen ratings determine which shows succeed, and that drives what the studios produce. If we tell them we prefer lowbrow trash, then they'll keep supplying lowbrow trash until every channel carries nothing but reality shows 24/7 and we'll all go mad, I tell you, mad ...
 
Ahem. When you're a Nielsen family, you've got a voice. That little diary, with its columns and rows and tiny type, lets you "vote" for favorite shows at any hour of the day or night. With just a little effort, a Nielsen family can do its small part in bringing about cultural change.
 
When we were finally selected to be a Nielsen family, I was jazzed. The diary and handy pencil got prime space on the coffee table, and I was ready to record every moment of my family's TV viewing habits.
 
But my family was a dud. Nobody watched TV that week. We were out a lot. Mom worked long hours. One son was busy reading Kurt Vonnegut. The other son had a new videogame and only came out of his room on periodic bleary-eyed food safaris.
 
I was out of town part of the week, but when home I dutifully recorded my TV viewing. The pattern quickly turned alarming: "Male Head of House" all alone in the living room, watching hours of NBA playoff games while his family finds better things to do.
 
Occasionally, "Female Head of House" drops by and the channel changes to Comedy Central or the news or something. But then her column goes empty again, and there's Male Head of House, back at the NBA, alone.
 
I recognized how this was going to look, and tried to lure other family members into viewing, just so we'd have some variety in our diary. But the very fact that they were being monitored prompted my rebellious teens to opt out. They weren't gonna sell out to the Man. They boycotted TV for the first time in their lives.
 
One sighed heavily and said, "The show's not worth it if I have to write it down."
 
I tried to compensate for their laziness by watching even more TV, vigorously flipping channels in search of quality programming to endorse, but I kept winding up back at the basketball playoffs. The sameness of my diary became predictable and sad.
 
In my defense: Much of the time, the NBA game was on but the sound was off. Family members passed through the room, chatting and doing regular family things, so it wasn't like Male Head of House just sat around all week, watching basketball on TV. I mean, that would be pathetic. Jeez.
 
(Note to the Nielsen folks: You've thought of nearly everything. You even have a column to check when "TV on but no one Watching/Listening." But you don't have a column for "Random Channel Surfing," which is the way most guys watch TV, changing channels every few seconds, keeping up with scores and plot lines and potential cheesecake while avoiding commercials and laugh tracks. Flip, flip, flip.)
 
Anyhow, we were a terrible Nielsen family. We didn't watch the right shows and talk them up to the ratings service. Our results don't accurately reflect our usual viewing habits. The diary changed our behavior. We weirded out.
 
But ratings for the NBA playoffs went through the roof.
 
Redding, Calif., author Steve Brewer's latest book is called "Bank Job." Contact him at ABQBrewer@aol.com.