Maybe the ideal, then, would be to judge Couric after a month, or a year, or even five years. But she isn't afforded that luxury, and she knows it, so the show's first few days must be indicative of what Couric (who is also the managing editor) hopes to do with the show in the long-term. I got to watch Couric three times before passing judgment, and her broadcast remained pretty much the same throughout. After her years on The Today Show, Couric is an assured on-camera presence and, whatever her faults, never seems ill-at-ease delivering the news.
Much of the criticism has focused on the way that Couric brings her fluffy, self-centered morning-show shtick to the evening news, a venue considered too serious for such frippery. The first broadcast featured a breathless reveal of Vanity Fair's exclusive photos of Suri Cruise—usually more the territory of Entertainment Tonight than a newscast. Introducing the show's new public-comment feature "Free Speech," with a cross-section of Americans sounding off on their personal views, Couric announced that they were about to show something new—adding, "Besides me," in a squeaky, entitled tone.
She introduced a contest to write her sign-off line, used a more conversational tone than her peers (she begins each broadcast, "Hi, everyone") and did not pass up the opportunity to show off her famous legs, sitting in armchairs for two interviews in the first three broadcasts. She also injects personal comments into stories; in a segment on the new HPV vaccine for pre-adolescent girls, she made sure to mention her own two daughters.
Is Couric really dumbing down the news? If she is, it's at least isolated to the program's fluffier segments, and she's hardly the only one. Turn over to ABC's World News with Charles Gibson, and you can see Gibson, himself a morning-show veteran (of ABC's Good Morning America), mention his grandson during an interview with President Bush. That interview was advertised relentlessly in the days before Couric's debut, as she, too, was set to sit down with Bush. But while Couric merely went to the White House, ABC touted Gibson's exclusive interview aboard Air Force One. Such one-upmanship is hardly the highest mark of journalistic integrity, but it isn't new, either. And Couric is a comforting voice of reason, squeaky tone and all, compared to the blowhard pundits cluttering cable news.
Her other rival, NBC's Brian Williams, is more in the authoritative-older-male mold of anchors past. With his deep voice and steadfast delivery, Williams is all-business, never pretending to be your friend. He may crack jokes on late-night talk shows, but Williams is unlikely to engage in something so frivolous as a sign-off-writing contest. His old-school approach will probably keep him on top among evening-news viewers, who tend to be older and perhaps set in their ways. And Couric may end up following him, ditching the "Free Speech" rants and celebrity baby pictures for a more traditional approach to appease the dwindling network news audience. How she holds up to such pressures in the long run will be the true measure of her success.