Tony Abbott Should Watch More TV

Last week, Tony Abbott responded to the objectively appalling conditions that asylum seekers are being kept in by promising not to "succumb to the cries of human rights lawyers". Asked about specific criticism he receives on social media, he dismissed all of social media as "electronic graffiti". And in response to revelations that the cattle we export to Vietnam are being killed in the most horrific ways, Abbott said this: "We know that on the basis of a television program, a panicked Labor government closed down the live cattle export trade."

Abbott is not the first politician to criticise the medium as a way of distracting from the message, but he is so extraordinarily bad at it that it must be noted. He's like a magician fumbling around in his sleeves for a card, then eventually producing it and proclaiming "Magic!" Nobody's buying it.

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The television program that Abbott referred to was not an episode of Game of Thrones (as one might assume from Tony's tone), but a piece of investigative journalism from Four Corners called "A Bloody Business". It exposed the inhumane manner in which cattle is transported and treated, and the cover-ups that the industry engaged in to keep this hidden from the public. The story won the 2011 Gold Walkley Award, as well as the Logie Award for "Most Outstanding Public Affairs Report".

The report caused huge outrage, and the then-Labor Government immediately suspended all live exports. The government's response was understandable, but chronically mishandled: it appeared reactionary, it was non-consultative, and the ban was lifted only one month later.

Leaving Labor's disastrous ball-fumbling on this issue aside, the point is that it is absurd to dismiss what is essentially a method of imparting information – even if it is a newfangled contraption such as the vision facsimile transmitter, or "television" – is really not a good look. And here are some important examples why.

See It Now (1954)

It was the height of the Red Scare, and the USA's Senator Joseph McCarthy was holding hearings to uncover "un-American activity". This was the very definition of a witch hunt, and reporter Edward R Murrow and producer Fred Friendly decided to air a special episode of their half-hour news program See It Now titled "A Report on Senator Joseph McCarthy".

It was the prototype for the Jon Stewart/John Oliver clips that get so roundly shared today on Facebook and Twitter: Murrow's piece used clips from McCarthy's speeches to highlight inconsistencies and outright contradictions, decimating the Senator's position and arguments.

It was the beginning of the end of McCarthyism. This one report struck a chord with the American public, and was the catalyst that turned Communism from the USA's most feared threat to a sitcom punchline.

Cathy Come Home (1966)
This 1966 TV movie from director Ken Loach featured a realistic, documentary-like look, a that would strongly inform Loach's later cinema career. The film tells the story of a couple with a young child who become homeless when the husband is injured, subsequently losing his job. They are forced immediately into a life of homelessness and poverty.

This was one of the first pieces of dramatic television to affect policy. A quarter of Britain – 12 million people – watched it, and the BBC switchboards crashed after it aired. There was a public and political outcry from those who had sympathised with the plight of Cathy, associating her story with the faceless mass of homeless that the country had turned a blind eye to.

A public face had been put on homelessness for the first time, and money flooded into charities. It was by no means a seismic change – spoiler alert: homelessness is still a problem we prefer to ignore – but it was a big step in starting a public conversation that was too difficult to have before then.

Will & Grace (1998)
Look, in terms of gay acceptance in television, I would have preferred the episode of Ellen in which Ellen Degeneres famously came out. But there's a reason I'm going with Will & Grace.

Same-sex marriage is such a contentious issue, it's remarkable how quickly it went from a thing someone would cautiously suggest at a party to state-wide policy. Ireland has just elected to adopt it after a referendum, and Australia is currently debating the idea of having a debate, but there's no denying the USA is a key bellwether here. If this ultra-conservative country can adopt gay marriage in 38 states and counting, then there's hope for everyone else.

In May of 2012, President Barack Obama who was running for a second term in office, announced he was in favour of same-sex marriage. It was a huge thing for a sitting President to do, and a remarkable choice in an election year given how much of the country was still against it. He might have been spurred on by Vice President Joe Biden, who a few days before had endorsed the idea himself. Maybe Biden was sent to test the waters, but it was the way in which he did it that was particularly notable.

"I think Will & Grace probably did more to educate the American public than almost anything anybody has ever done so far," he told Meet the Press. The show, which featured a straight woman and gay man living together in New York, had helped normalise the idea of homosexuality in prime time.

It was easy to see a statement in which a massive social change is credited to a sitcom as a typical Biden gaffe – Joe Biden, a principled Senator who was a renowned expert on foreign affairs, was quickly anointed the goofy uncle by a press unsure of how to poke fun at the country's first African-American President – but there was something savvy going on here. Biden was not wrong to suggest that a sitcom would have more of an impact on public opinion than, say, a well-reasoned New York Times op-ed. By treating homosexuality as normal (and, importantly, keeping everything improbably light and funny), Will & Grace had a demonstrably fundamental effect on the lives of LGBTI people in the US, and across the world.

(Although, for those still wanting to give Ellen the credit for this, it's worth noting that Ellen ended on 22 July 1998, and Will & Grace premiered on 21 September 1998, so there's a very clear connective line to be drawn here.)

Like all methods of communicating ideas, television has had an enormous, incalculable affect on the world. NASA, for instance, is filled with people who grew up on Star Trek and Star Wars, and credit those early moments of awe as kickstarting their careers.

But TV has always had a huge and direct and measurable impact on social policy at a federal level, and these examples are honestly just the first three that came to mind. Dismissing the medium altogether is not just intellectually dishonest, it makes you look like you're out-of-touch with the 20th century, let alone the 21st.

Now go watch some more TV, Prime Minister. Even if it's just a Will & Grace box set, you'll learn a lot.

Follow Lee on Twitter: @leezachariah

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