His Bias betrays him; Former CBS newsman's good ideas are overshadowed by personal swipes

Bernard Goldberg's Bias has been a bit of an anomaly. The former CBS newsman's diatribe against a liberal-slanted news media has been on The New York Times nonfiction list for weeks. Yet it has failed to inspire the kind of substantive discussion that often accompanies a provocative, idea-driven best seller. For example, when professor Allan Bloom's polemic The Closing of the American Mind went No. 1 in the late 1980s, the book's success generated months of lively debate about several of Bloom's claims about academic life, spirituality - even the merits of rock 'n' roll. The difference seems to be that unlike Bloom's book, Bias has so far failed to generate much excitement among those who disagree with its conclusions. Goldberg's fire of resentment against his former employer and his brimstone of outrage against the sins of TV news has played well among the conservative faithful (to which, ironically, he claims not to belong). Indeed, the editor of National Review Online urged readers to buy Goldberg's book even though he confessed he hadn't actually read it yet. Nonconservatives, however, have at best drizzled the book with tepid praise. Janet Maslin, reviewing Bias for The New York Times, wrote that the book "should be taken seriously," then proceeded to brush off so many of Goldberg's arguments as to leave not much serious material to take. Many critics have been less charitable. The Washington Post's TV critic, Tom Shales, bypassed the book and zeroed in on the author, describing Goldberg as a "no-talent hack" and a "role model" for "disgruntled has-beens everywhere." Eric Alterman, writing in The Nation, wrote that Goldberg's book contains "little more than one idiotic accusation after another." In fact, there is a great deal of analysis in Bias that the mainstream media ought to be chewing over. So why aren't they? My guess is that most critics never got to that part of the book. By my count, 72 of the 234 pages of Bias, including the introduction and first three chapters, are devoted to settling a score with Dan Rather, whom Goldberg accuses of sandbagging his career. In 1996, after "complaining privately about bias at CBS News for years," Goldberg took his grievance public, in an op-ed article for The Wall Street Journal that singled out for criticism a piece on the "CBS Evening News" that made fun of the Steve Forbes flat-tax proposal. Rather immediately dropped Goldberg as a contributor, and Goldberg's name was soon mud all around the network. After 28 years, he called it quits in 2000. Obviously such a story has instant appeal to Dan-haters everywhere. You can't blame Goldberg for leading with it. But it was a mistake to spend a third of this book on it. In no time Goldberg is mired in a muck of strained levity, emotional dishonesty and behavior unbecoming a network newsman. He hotly denies having a "feud" with the star anchor, yet five pages later (in the book's most talked-about phrase) refers to Rather's loyal lieutenants as his "bitches." This includes the current president of CBS News, Andrew Heyward. He also compares Rather to a crime boss who could have you "whacked" if you crossed him (which Goldberg, of course, did). In one especially tortured passage on page 21, Goldberg flip-flops between asserting that Rather "didn't tolerate dissent" and then lamely claiming that he never thought his Wall Street Journal piece would put him on the outs with "The Dan." He whimpers that he "wasn't trying to be a martyr," especially over "a lousy piece on the evening news." Yet when a Journal editor tells Goldberg his op-ed will run on Tuesday, he recalls saying, "Be prepared to run my obituary next Wednesday." Once he unloads this baggage on us, however, it's a whole different Bernie. Beginning on page 49 with the fourth chapter, he writes, "I grew up in a blue-collar, Democratic family in the South Bronx. We lived in a tenement that was old even back then." Thus begins an engaging introduction to the career of Bernard Goldberg, cub reporter for The Associated Press, then the Miami CBS affiliate and, starting in 1972, the Tiffany network herself. Along the way, Goldberg discovered some of the peculiar taboos of network television. News producers, no doubt fearing the wrath of minority groups, were uncomfortable with "prison stories (that) showed too many black inmates and not enough white ones." A more interesting story would be investigating why prisons were filling up with minorities - but that, Goldberg notes, "would be hard, time-consuming, expensive work" that TV networks would rather avoid. Other chapters, including "How Bill Clinton Cured Homelessness," provide strong evidence that some media trends might be driven by little more than prejudices of a select group of well-heeled news professionals in New York. But unfortunately, no one is talking about those chapters, except for a few segments on Fox News Channel and the PBS "NewsHour" (the one place where liberal chin-stroking is allowed on TV today). Alas, it appears Bias will be remembered, by its supporters and critics alike, for its author's ham-handed tirade against a third-place news operation that has seen better days. The Kansas City Star Bias, by Bernard Goldberg (234 pages; Regnery Publishing; $27.95) To reach Aaron Barnhart, phone (816) 234-4790 or visit the TV Barn Web site at www.tvbarn.com @ART CAPTION:Bernard Goldberg @ART CREDIT:File photo @ART CAPTION:Bias, by Bernard Goldberg (234 pages; Regnery Publishing; $27.95) @ART:Photos (2, color)