By the time he reached retirement age in 1966, CBS founder William S. Paley had changed America. As broadcasting's pioneer programmer, he had made household names of Lucille Ball and Jackie Gleason. As an empire builder, he had created a conglomerate with interests ranging from magazines to music. But at 65, the CBS chairman was just beginning two more decades at the top. He tirelessly presided over his beloved company, defending it against rival networks, corporate raiders and successors he deemed unworthy. He did retire in 1983, only to be restored as chairman after investor Laurence Tisch took control of the company three years later. Though Paley's power was greatly diminished, not until he died last week at 89 was his influence over CBS finally ended.
Paley was broadcasting's premier tastemaker, the impresario who turned the American living room into the most important venue in show business. "When it came to finding new talent," he wrote in his autobiography, As It Happened, "I seemed to have a good ear." While strolling the deck of a steamship in 1931, the young radio executive overheard a recording of an obscure singer whose baritone captivated him. After peering at the label on the record, he cabled his subordinates: SIGN UP SINGER NAMED BING CROSBY.
Paley was a high-living bon vivant who, along with his glamorous second wife Babe, traveled in glittery social circles and carefully cultivated his own legend. A forthcoming biography by Sally Bedell Smith, In All His Glory: The Life of William S. Paley, debunks some of that legend, pointing out that Paley frequently exaggerated his role in the early development of radio and that he was initially skeptical of the new medium of television.
The son of immigrants from Russia who made a fortune in the cigar business, Paley entered the family firm in Philadelphia and one day decided to sponsor a variety show, La Palina Hour, on a local radio station. The program's popularity hooked him. His family helped Paley raise $500,000 in 1928 to buy control of 16 radio stations, which he renamed the Columbia Broadcasting System.
Paley was a consummate salesman, with a smile as bright as studio lights. While other budding network entrepreneurs charged their affiliates for programming, Paley cleverly offered it free to local stations as long as they gave him choice time slots for his nationally sponsored shows. A lifelong newshound, Paley built broadcasting's most prestigious news organization. He hired Edward R. Murrow and a legendary group of reporters to cover the brewing war in Europe and later oversaw the creation of See It Now (1951) and 60 Minutes (1968).
Paley fostered entertainment that balanced intelligence with popularity. Among his successes were Playhouse 90, All in the Family, The Mary Tyler Moore Show and M*A*S*H. While Paley's personal affinities ran to post-Impressionist paintings and French cuisine, as a businessman he tolerated such fare as The Beverly Hillbillies and Dallas.
Under Paley, CBS expanded into business, ranging from musical instruments (Fender guitars) to textbooks (Holt, Rinehart & Winston). But during the late 1970s, the overgrown CBS began to stumble. Like the other networks, it fell prey to competition from cable, videocassette recorders and independent TV stations. Paley's long search for a successor also burdened the company. After Thomas Wyman, his fifth heir apparent, was ousted in 1986, new owner Tisch began heavily pruning the conglomerate that Paley had built, shedding CBS's magazine and record subsidiaries.
Despite declining health, Paley struggled to keep a hand in his troubled empire. When Diane Sawyer, one of the network's top correspondents, was being lured by rival ABC in early 1989, Paley met her for a last-ditch lunch to try to persuade her to stay. (He failed.) As an octogenarian, Paley proved as stubborn in letting go of his vigor as of CBS. Said he: "I could match up with most young people, and I do. It helps keep me young. I don't sit back and say, `O.K., you can rest now, Paley.'" But now he can.
By Stephen Koepp.