Some researchers trace the beginnings of blacklisting in radio to the founding in 1947 of Counterattack: The Newsletter of Facts on Communism. Three former Federal Bureau of Investigation agents, Theodore Kirkpatrick, Kenneth Bierly, and John Keenan, founded American Business Consultants and began publishing the aforementioned newsletter. They sent copies to advertising agencies, broadcasting executives, and sponsors along with offers to do special investigations. The newsletter listed entertainers of all types along with their supposed communist activities.

     Others date the beginnings of blacklisting a little earlier, just after the end of World War II. Evidently a list of between 80 and 100 "undesirables" was circulated among broadcasting executives and shown to directors. At one network, the list came with a memo advising, "For Your Information: Keep these names in mind when casting."

Context

  In order to understand blacklisting and why it worked, it is first necessary to understand the political climate of the post­ World War II world. The war ended in 1945 with the Soviet Union in control of Eastern Europe. Within four years, communists came to power in China. The atomic bomb became a shared weapon. Alger Hiss and the Rosenbergs became front­ page news when Senator Joseph McCarthy of Wisconsin first proclaimed that there were spies in the State Department in 1950, the same year the Korean War started. In short, it was a time ripe for demagoguery and exploitation. Into this climate of fear stepped the blacklisters.

     Blacklisters needed the help of both the general public and the broadcasting industry to succeed. They needed the general public to be afraid of communism as a mortal enemy. This meant that any method used to defeat such an enemy was allowable. If the public could be convinced of the danger, then the firing of the occasional innocent actor, writer, and so on would be understandable and permissible. This was, after all, a life-and-death struggle with an enemy who would use any means at his disposal to succeed. Therefore, one must be willing to use any means available to defeat him-including the sacrificing of some civil rights. This "end justifies the means" argument was a relatively strong one, considering the political state of the world. Finally, one also needed the public to believe that the entertainment industry was a prime target of an international communist conspiracy.

     Blacklisters needed the broadcast industry, including advertisers and advertising agencies, to believe something else entirely. They needed the industry to believe that they, the blacklisters, could institute product boycotts and that such boycotts could ruin an advertiser, agency, or product. From the late 1940s through the middle 1950s, broadcasters, advertisers, and agencies all acted as if this were possible. From a distance of half a century, it is possible to wonder why broadcasters failed to truly question such assumptions (although some did, at great personal risk), but it is always necessary to remember time and place when discussing black­ listing. What the acceptance of such assumptions meant, however, was that instead of discussing whether blacklisting itself was morally correct, people argued over whether a particular individual should or should not be included on one of the many lists being circulated. Few asked whether the lists should be published to begin with.

     Although the impression is often of a large, corporate force instituting blacklisting throughout the entertainment industry, the opposite is closer to the truth. There were Bierly, Keenen, and Kirkpatrick, who founded American Business Consultants and published the regular newsletter, Counterattack. In 1950 they would also be responsible for publishing Red Channels. There was Lawrence Johnson, a Syracuse supermarket owner; Vincent Hartnett, a talent agent associated with AWARE; Daniel T. O'Shea at the Columbia Broadcasting System (CBS); Jack Wren at Batton, Barton, Durston, and Osborne; and George Sokolsky of the Hearst papers. In addition to the publications of American Business Consultants, there was the American Legion's Firing Line, the Brooklyn Tablet, and the American Mercury. Although not all-inclusive, this list includes many of the major groups and individuals involved in the process.

     The avowed goal of blacklisters was to root out communists in the entertainment industry. The following is from the September 1947 issue of Counterattack:

The most important thing of all is to base your whole policy on a firmly moral foundation. Space should not be rented to the Communist Party or to any Communist front. Supplies should not be sold to them. They should not be allowed to participate in meetings or to have time on the air or to advertise in the press. No concession should ever be made to them for any business reason. Communist actors, announcers, directors, writers, producers, etc., whether in radio, theater, or movies, should be barred to the extent permissible by law and union contracts.

How It Worked

     The way blacklisting worked was relatively simple. Entertainers of all types were listed along with their supposed communist affiliations. Networks and advertising agencies then used the lists when deciding whom to hire. The names were gathered from a number of different sources. Old editions of the Daily Worker were searched for incriminating references. Office stationery, letters, publicity, and the like from groups labeled communist fronts by the U.S. Attorney General's Office or by the blacklisters themselves were also scoured for names. Names were also supplied by friendly witnesses to governmental agencies that were supposedly searching for communist infiltration of the entertainment industry. Prominent among these groups were the Tenney Committee in California and the House Un­ American Activities Committee of the United States House of Representatives. Sometimes, as was eventually shown in court, the listings contained half-truths. Sometimes they were outright lies. Always, the blacklisters were after "names."

     Once an entertainer was "listed" in one of the blacklisters' publications, it became almost impossible to find work. The problem was in the way radio was supported. In theater or film, there is a direct correlation between success and people attending the event, but that was not true in radio. Advertisers placed commercials, often in programs they themselves produced, with the idea that people would hear the advertisement and buy the product. Any negative publicity surrounding the program was thought to reflect on the product itself.. Advertisers feared listener boycotts of their products if the programs they produced used actors listed in blacklisting publications.

     Lawrence Johnson, a Syracuse supermarket owner and active supporter of blacklisting, was excellent at instilling the fear of a boycott into an advertiser's mind. When notified that a program was using actors listed in Counterattack or by AWARE, Johnson would write a letter to the program's sponsor. Johnson would offer to hold a test in his supermarkets. A sign in front of a competitor's brand would say that it sponsored programs that used only pro-American artists and shunned "Stalin's Little Creatures"-a phrase for which Johnson was famous. The sign in front of the sponsor's product was to explain why its maker chose to use communist fronters on its program. Johnson then said he would hold the letter for a few days awaiting a reply. He threatened that if he received no reply, he would send a copy to the United States Chamber of Commerce, the Sons of the American Revolution, the Catholic War Veterans, the Super Market Institute in Chicago, and others. The goal was to scare the sponsor into believing that blacklisters could really create a meaningful product boycott. No one at the network level ever called the bluff.

     The year 1950 became a high-water mark for blacklisting in the United States when American Business Consultants published what may be the most successful blacklist. Appearing just before the outbreak of the Korean War, Red Channels listed 151 artists in the entertainment field and their communist affiliations. Although many broadcast executives claimed to be appalled by the names included on the list, the book nevertheless became known as the "Bible of Madison Avenue." Two examples should prove the book's effectiveness. 

     Irene Wicker was one of those listed in Red Channels. Kellogg's had sponsored her Singing Lady program. The sponsor dropped the program after the publication showed she had one listing. Her sole citation was that she had sponsored a peti­tion for the reelection of Benjamin J. Davis to Congress. The citation was based on an item in the Daily Worker. Wicker claimed she had never heard of Davis and went to great lengths to prove she had never sponsored a petition for his reelection. Her lawyer even got a court order to examine all 30,000 names on Davis's petitions. Wicker's was not among them. Although this "cleared" her, it still did not make her employable, for now she had become controversial.

     Another of those listed by Red Channels was Jean Muir. A former movie actress, she had been hired by the National Broadcasting Company (NBC) to play the role of the mother in The Aldrich Family-a former radio drama being developed for television. Red Channels included nine listings for her. When Kirkpatrick was informed that NBC was going to use an actor listed in Red Channels, he organized a protest over her hiring. The end result was that Muir was paid in full for her contract but was never seen on the program. The industry never attempted to determine how widespread the protest was. The concern was that there was a protest at all. General Foods, the program's sponsor, issued a press release stating, "The use of controversial personalities or the discussion of controversial subjects in our advertising may provide unfavorable criticism and even antagonism among sizable groups of customers." The sponsor did not want its product placed in any negative light at all. The publicity surrounding the Muir case had made the whole issue of blacklisting much more public than either the networks or the advertising agencies wanted it to be. As a result of the Muir case, blacklisting became institutionalized. The networks and agencies developed a system whereby all those involved in programs were screened ahead of time. Those found to have some sort of "communist affiliation" were simply never offered employment, rather than fired later. This cut back on some of the negative publicity.

     Like Wicker, Muir also tried to clear herself, but she remained unemployable. The real point of the Muir case is that by the end of 1950, the industry had accepted the black listers' standard on employability. If someone was listed, the networks would not employ him or her. NBC had tried with Muir, but when confronted with a token protest, NBC caved in, thus allowing Red Channels and publications like it to set the standards by which performers would be judged. Understand that Muir was not a part of a communist plot, nor was she a member of the Communist Party. She had merely participated in liberal political activities in the 1930s. For those actions, her career was destroyed.

     To speak out against the blacklisters was to put one's own career in jeopardy. Raymond Swing was chief commentator for Voice of America when he was invited to debate blacklist­ing with Kirkpatrick before the Radio Executives Club of New York. While vigorously defending the American system of government, he attacked those in charge of the radio industry:

If, by some bleak and dreadful tragedy, American radio should come under the control of persons intent on producing a single conformity of thinking in America, it will not be the pressure groups or the blacklisters who will be to blame, but those now in charge of radio. They have it in their keeping, and what happens to it will be their doing.

     After his appearance, Swing found himself under attack by both the blacklisters at Counterattack and by Senator Joseph McCarthy. Although it was reported that industry executives applauded Swing's role, they did nothing to change blacklisting in radio. That would be left to a single radio personality-John Henry Faulk.

     Blacklisters, and to some degree sponsors and networks, believed themselves to be immune from prosecution. After all, blacklisters merely transcribed their information from other publications. If there was a mistake, it was the fault of the publication from which the information had been gathered. Those listed should sue those publications. Sponsors and networks felt immune because they certainly had a right to hire those people they felt best suited the job. This was to change.

John Henry Faulk

     In 1956 John Henry Faulk was elected second vice president of the New York Chapter of the American Federation of Television and Radio Artists (AFTRA). Charles Collingwood was elected President and Orsen Bean first vice president. All had made their anti-blacklisting beliefs known. AWARE was particularly upset and sought to get both Bean and Faulk fired. Bean became unemployed almost immediately but was able to rely on his club work as a stand-up comedian. Faulk, however, was vulnerable. He was an employee of CBS Radio and had been doing some television at the time of his election. Shortly after his election, his name appeared in the publications of AWARE, which accused him of collusion and fellow-traveling. His radio sponsors deserted him, and CBS fired him. Faulk then took the unusual step of suing AWARE and Vincent Hart­nett. It took six years before the case came to trial. Hartnett eventually admitted, "I was sold a barrel of false information," when questioned about the listings next to Faulk's name. Many of the citations on Faulk were incorrect, and others were intentionally misleading. In 1962 the jury awarded Faulk $3,500,000. The award was later reduced to approximately half a million dollars, and Faulk saw little of the money. Lawrence Johnson, who had avoided testifying, died of an overdose of barbiturates the day the verdict was announced. Thanks to the publicity from this case, blacklisting was, more or less, officially dead.

     It was not just a single lawsuit that ended blacklisting but several things that came together in the late 1950s. First, the Faulk lawsuit placed advertisers and networks alike on notice that to maintain an official blacklist was to court financial disaster. Second, advertisers were moving away from the program production end of broadcasting. This removed them from the day-to-day hiring of entertainment personnel and made them less vulnerable to threats. Third, it became widely known that many blacklisted individuals had continued to work under assumed identities with no negative consequences ​​for networks or advertisers. By the late 1950s blacklisters were no longer able to raise the same level of response from the public over their allegations. Combined, these factors helped end the effective reign of blacklisters.

     Looking back, the real goal of the blacklisters seems to have been publicity. They were constantly after names. No plot was ever uncovered to use radio to convert the masses to communism. No evidence was ever found of a left-wing conspiracy to blacklist anticommunist actors. No spies were found in the radio industry. Blacklisting became a self-perpetuating effort at continued publicity. It destroyed careers and, in some cases, lives.

     The real issue was whether there should have been a black­ list at all. Unfortunately, that particular issue was rarely raised. Yes, there was some editorializing during and after the Muir case, but the bottom line is that Red Channels was both accepted and used by networks and advertising agencies alike. Some, such as Edward R. Murrow, raised the issue, but they had difficulty sustaining it. Although on the one hand, Mur­ row was allowed to fight Senator Joseph McCarthy on his CBS program See It Now, on the other hand, the network was running its own in-house blacklisting organization headed by Daniel T. O'Shea.

     It is also true that the relative number affected was really quite small when compared with the number of people employed in radio and television. This was of no consolation, however, to the Muirs, Wickers, and others who were ruined by the process. The real conclusion is that the broadcasting industry lacked the will to fight blacklisting. Although it is possible to find exceptions to this pattern, they are most notable because they are exceptions. The industry as a whole allowed both itself and the First Amendment to be battered at the hands of blacklisters.