Originally published by ImpactOnline on February 18, 2005 [here]
By Filippo Goodman

 It sounded like a great idea.

 Spawned during the post-civil rights malaise of the early-80's when Blacks were still searching hard for institutional hurdles to jump --- Black Entertainment

 Television, a cable channel aimed specifically at African-American, supposed to rattle the mainstream cage. That social contract of providing a counterbalance to the unattractive stereotypes and "blackouts" that ran rampant in network television seems to be one that was written in ice.

 Fast forwarding to the present day, BET has become to many a black-themed distillation of homogenized mindless entertainment., simply a harmless teenage pit stop, that has carved out little more than a reputation of gratuitous commercialism.

 Just an after-school distraction of images that flicker in the background during science homework in suburbs across America.

 February being the month designated for the celebration of Black history has always been a source of comedy, given the lack of outdoor activity options, and the way most people sleepwalk through the abbreviated month in preparation for spring. BET in many ways mirrors that sensibility of fools gold.

 BET started on their road to irrelevance by their adoption of a conservative bourgeois mindset set forth by founder Robert Johnson, who created BET with the Black Yuppie in mind.

 Early on, BET capitalized on MTV's unspoken ban against showcasing Black artists. From safe popcorn acts like New Edition to sequin-adorned top 40 stars such as Luther Vandross, BET became a haven for black pop music.

 Left out of the mix during BET's fledgling years were hip-hop videos which showed just where the channel drew the cultural line in the sand.

 In a move that would manifest itself in the future, BET executives were clearly uncomfortable with a young black street-oriented culture that didn't fit their philosophy, or didn't come complete with a corporate seal of approval.

 Ironically, BET didn't regularly begin showing rap videos until well after MTV established there was gold in the Bronx, by virtue of "Yo MTV Raps" becoming a ratings sensation. Only when the mainstream became less contemptuous of the culture, and record labels figured out they could mine a serious dollar out of it, did BET finally hop aboard the hip-hop train. That was the type of follow-the-suits thinking the channel was ostensibly supposed to reject.

 By the time the 90s hit, BET didn't have a problem showing any black-oriented music video, or malt liquor commercial, or soggy sitcom rerun that came on the cheap which maximized ad revenues.

 Over the years, BET has made half-hearted attempts at network credibility. "BET Live," a program hosted by

 Tavis Smiley was dumped because of backroom politics.

 "Teen Summit," a show that targeted teenagers and their issues was relegated to Saturday mornings, when most of that audience was still recovering from Friday night.

 Other shows like "On Stage", and "Our Voices" were slashed when they didn't strike ratings gold.

 One could make the argument that Bob Johnson shouldn't have to bear the social responsibilities of a race through his programming. Often, well intentioned programs run counter to fiscal responsibility.

 That said, there is something to be said for balance, and an effort to make a network into one that is well rounded How can BET executives feel comfortable in offering little more than flooding the channel with benign reruns, comedy shows, and music videos.

 I pretzel into a cringe whenever somebody makes the "we cant look bad in front of whites" argument, as if

 African Americans should define themselves by the whims of middle-America; however, if anyone was dumb enough to use BET as a cultural guide, he or she would have to come to the conclusion that the Black experience is little more than partying and comedy.

 Other than a half-hour news program, or late night religious programs, there isn't much to combat BET's daily onslaught of "act a damn fool" time. BET isn't too ignorant, just too one-sided. Johnson's commitment to public affairs was summed up when he said in a 2001 interview that "all Black people think that they have a collective ownership of BET, but the community as a whole can't run BET."

 BET has participated in creating this alternate universe where a channel called music television plays anything but music videos while "Black Entertainment TV" shows nothing but LIL John screaming at the top of his lungs sandwiched in between an assortment of hip-pop videos.

 True to their real feelings on the musical genre, recently BET has stayed on the sidelines while allergic-to- hip-hop VH1 honored the 30 year anniversary of the birth of hip hop, by chronicling the rise of the music art form with the kind of effort that clowns anything ever produced by BET.

 That hasn't been the first time, BET was on the outside looking in when it came to major political or culturally relevant issue regarding African-Americans.

 From its outset BET has been a profit at all costs venture. Outside of that the goal has been to make money, and in between those two ideals has been the objective of gaining capitol.

 I guess its more comfortable when the face of a culture pimp has one's own reflection.

 Its more than poetic that Johnson sold the company to a soulless conglomerate in Viacom which now makes the story all too complete.

 Paradoxically, for a channel that targets an ethnic group, BET suffers from a disappointing lack of cultural significance. BET is the trump card whenever a racial debate sparks..."well you guys do have BET don't you, stop you're complaining."

 I sort of wish we had BET too