In the world of celebrity news, where “15 minutes” of publicity of any sort is considered “fame,” Britney Spears must be fuming at the attention her ex-boyfriend, Justin Timberlake, is receiving along with Janet Jackson over their, er, “performance” in the Super Bowl halftime show. In our 24-hour news culture of having to develop swirling graphics and clever names for any “story,” some have cleverly labeled the scandal “nipplegate” and “bra-ha-ha.”
Indeed, the exposure of Jackson’s breast created a fervor: shortly after the incident, CBS’ switchboard was overloaded with angry callers demanding an explanation (or, I’m sure, in some cases, inquiring exactly what sort of cosmic ornament adorned Jackson’s nipple). Timberlake and Jackson soon issued apologies for the incident, first labeling it a “wardrobe malfunction” (begging the question: does Jackson wear nipple ornaments on a regular basis?) then, after realizing how lame that sounded, clarifying the stunt was only meant to reveal Jackson’s red brazier (begging the question: who wears a bra that rips in half?) By most measures, it seems that the incident was a planned stunt, and that CBS (now the target of an FCC investigation and possible fines), its affiliates, the NFL, and-worst of all-viewers were all the unwitting subjects of Timberlake and Jackson’s tasteless trickery.
And tasteless the incident, and really the entire halftime show, was. Commentators who have bemoaned the transformation of the Super Bowl halftime show into “Hustlers hit Houston” have a point. It seems ironic that the halftime show-formerly reserved for such asexual routines as marching bands and field goal contests-has become a forum for an MTV-produced sexual spectacle, considering that the price of Super Bowl tickets meant that, for most attendees, Jessica Simpson’s ever-articulate exclamation “Houston, Choose to Party!” was an admonition rather than an invitation.
Yet much of the “bra-ha-ha,” while justified in its righteous anger that halftime family fare was diluted to a half-wit’s pierced privates, misses the real point. When, exactly, did the Super Bowl (with its heavy dose of beer commercials and athletes acting ridiculously without the aid of celebrities) become America’s family event of the year? The controversy is but a sign, albeit one seen by millions, of America’s detrimental obsession with youth and celebrity. The exposure of Jackson’s breast exposed a much larger problem.
Signs of that obsession are everywhere. Instead of magazines like Newsweek or Time dominating newsstands in the (family-friendly?) grocery store, the prominently displayed titles are Cosmopolitan (inevitably with a must-read story about mind-blowing orgasms), People (with exclusive coverage that “oops!” Britney and Justin did “do it”), and the tabloids (with rumors of weight gain, drug addition, and homosexual tendencies). In view of our obsession with celebrity dysfunction, why were we so surprised by Timberlake and Janet’s “wardrobe malfunction?”
Unfortunately, the obsession runs deeper than such publications. Now, mainstream newspapers and cable news networks obsess over youth and celebrity. Such coverage and the ratings it generates indicates Americans are more likely to remember that Michael Jackson was twenty-one minutes late (!) than they are to know the names of twenty-one government leaders; are more likely to be impassioned by Martha Stewart’s questionable trading than questionable accounting practices that have affected thousands; and want to know more about Britney’s mocking of marriage than the quest for gay marriage.
CBS’ choice of MTV to produce the halftime show was no surprise. If reality TV, commercial advertising, and ratings analysis are any indication, the 18-25, maybe 34-year old demographic that MTV appeals to dictates America’s agenda (despite holding little political clout and, in many cases, real buying power). It’s obvious that such an obsession with youth discounts older generations. But more ominous, I think, is that our generation has apparently earned the reputation as preferring spectacle over substance. We’ve mistaken MTV’s “Real World” for, well, the real real world.
As the “nipplegate” apologies, excuses, and largely symbolic investigations continue, I hope that America realizes that what led Timberlake and Jackson to test the limits of decency isn’t so much a culture of indecency but a culture obsessed with youth and celebrity. Until we focus on more meaningful headlines and understand that celebrities are not, in fact, representative of our generation’s values, today’s college students will be manipulated as mindless consumers rather than respected as world-changers.