I recently discovered a YouTube channel called Dead Malls, in which a modern-day anthropologist wanders through what remains of dozens of indoor shopping malls throughout the United States, all of which were still open but have seen better days.
For a while I couldn’t figure out why I was fascinated by the footage he captures: the vast, deserted central spaces; rows of vacant storefronts still exhibiting vestiges of their former occupants, interspersed with the few remaining tenants trying to hold on; the expanse of empty chairs and tables in largely-abandoned food courts; the attention to detail lavished on each mall’s unique interior design features – decorative touches that indicate these were places meant to be beautiful and special – to welcome in people from all walks of life and give them an experience to be enjoyed.
And then it hit me – what has happened to these malls has also happened to television; perhaps less so to the medium at large than to the classic TV era, when the broadcast networks comprised almost all we thought of as television in its early history.
Television, like shopping malls, rose to national prominence in the 1950s, and flourished for the next three decades. Both were gathering places for millions of Americans, open to all, striving to provide something attention grabbing for every taste and interest. Both also wanted to sell you something, while entertaining you in the process.
And both now draw visitor numbers that are a tiny fraction of what they enjoyed in their heyday. Their appeal has been dwarfed by competition, the existence of which could not have been imagined when they were launched.
For the malls it was Amazon and other online retailers. Once the mall’s promise of a comfortable, temperature-controlled shopping experience was appealing. But what could be more comfortable than shopping from home, day or night, in your pajamas?
For the networks It was cable at first, then video games, then an internet that delivered limitless entertainment options through streaming services, and you didn’t even need a television to enjoy them.
Two things that once held a central place in many of our lives no longer do so. When the kids needed new clothes, it was off to the mall. When teenagers needed a place to gather after school, it was off to the mall. Christmas shopping? Off to the mall.
Likewise, when you got home after a hard day’s work, it was time to relax in front of the television. Americans spent mornings with Bob Barker on The Price is Right, afternoons with their favorite daytime dramas, got their daily dose of news from reputable sources, and looked forward to their favorite comedies, cop shows and variety series at night.
Have we lost something from the decline in popularity of shopping malls and network television? I think so. What we no longer share is the sense of community they engendered, whether actual or virtual.
In the malls these connections were tangible. You met people; you talked to sales clerks, who back then were less hard to find and more customer-service oriented. You commiserated with fellow shoppers about where you had to park and how much you still had to do before going home and getting dinner started. Maybe you’d never see any of them again, but in that time you understood that we’re all going through stuff together, and even those momentary connections were healthy signs of a functioning society.
With television in the three-network era, we were sharing the experience of watching the same classic shows with millions of viewers across all 50 states. They became pervasive sources of joy, excitement and suspense, to be discussed the next day at the office or when out to lunch with friends. I know this is true because I lived through it. Decades later I can still recall conversations with classmates in school about Fonzie’s latest display of cool, debates over who shot J.R., and admiration for how none of us had ever seen anything quite like the bizarrely fascinating pilot for Twin Peaks.
It seems that today more than ever we are searching for common ground and shared interests, and coming up empty. Entertainment has become politicized. Sports have become politicized. Religion brings worshippers together but fewer people have any interest in it. It makes me sad. It also forces me to reflect on what other traditional social structures and institutions are gradually disappearing into a liquid modernity that has no use for such things.
One last thought about this – is it possible that today’s television landscape has replicated the mall model?
Consider this: just as we used to enter a mall never having the intention of visiting every store, now someone turns on their TV with all the choices it offers, knowing he or she will never spend any time at 90% of them.
The channels that still draw viewers – ESPN, FOX News, Turner Classic Movies – those are the anchor tenants – Macy’s and JCPenney; then there are channels you routinely pass by but may watch once in a while – like Hickory Farms in the mall, you’re still happy they are there and throw them enough business to keep them solvent. And then there are guide listings just taking up space, that you think could probably be better occupied by someone else. Channels like Grit, and Laff, and Pursuit, those are the Hot Dog On a Stick of cable options – who would actually want to go there?
I’m not sure the analogy holds up. But if that’s the model, will the television landscape become a virtual dead mall one day? Has declining viewership already put it on that path? Stay tuned. Until then, I suddenly have a powerful craving for an Orange Julius.
