An interesting article written by one of David Letterman's former writers regarding the situation for female writers in late-night TV.
http://www.vanityfair.com/hollywood/features/2009/10/david-letterman-200910Letterman and MeOne of the few women ever to write for Late Night with David Letterman, the author (a longtime V.F. contributor) remembers a hostile, sexually charged atmosphere. What’s to be done? Start by breaking late night’s all-male gag order.
By Nell Scovell
WEB EXCLUSIVE October 27, 2009
At this moment, there are more females serving on the United States Supreme Court than there are writing for Late Show with David Letterman, The Jay Leno Show, and The Tonight Show with Conan O’Brien combined. Out of the 50 or so comedy writers working on these programs, exactly zero are women. It would be funny if it weren’t true.
Late-night talk shows have long snubbed female writers. (“Blaaaaame Johnny!”) Now old charges of sexism have joined new concerns about sexual harassment, triggered by an alleged extortion plot that prompted David Letterman to admit on-air, “I have had sex with women who work for me on this show.”
Most media stars responded by defending one of their own. On The View, Barbara Walters remarked that Dave “is a very attractive man” and offered a blanket excuse for his in-house affairs: “Where do you meet people? In the workplace.” Joy Behar took a tougher stance and argued that his behavior might have created an atmosphere that’s uncomfortable for other female employees, especially “if you’re one of the girls who works there and [are] just doing your job.” But Walters had little sympathy for the working girls. “Maybe you’re annoyed today, but that’s not necessarily sexual harassment,” Walters said. “It isn’t sexual harassment,” she added.
Actually, it may be. There’s a subset of sexual harassment called sexual favoritism that, according to the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission, can lead to a “hostile work environment,” often “creating an atmosphere that is demeaning to women.”
And that pretty much sums up my experience at Late Night with David Letterman.
I was the second female writer ever hired at Late Night. When I applied for the job in 1988, I had no way of knowing how much the odds were stacked against me. In 27 years, Late Night and Late Show have hired only seven female writers. These seven women have spent a total of 17 years on staff combined. By extrapolation, male writers have racked up a collective 378 years writing jokes for Dave (based on an average writing room of 14 men, the size of the current Late Show staff).
Two years after they received my submission packet, I got the call: Dave wanted to meet me. By then, I was living in L.A. and had already written an episode for The Simpsons and served as story editor on Newhart during its final season. Still, Late Night was my dream job, so when I got the offer, I left the sitcom I’d just started on and moved back East. Walking into 30 Rockefeller Center on my first day as a Letterman writer was one of the happiest moments of my life—right up there with the births of my two kids. But it was all downhill after that. (I’m talking about Late Night, not my kids. They’re great.)
Without naming names or digging up decades-old dirt, let’s address the pertinent questions. Did Dave hit on me? No. Did he pay me enough extra attention that it was noted by another writer? Yes. Was I aware of rumors that Dave was having sexual relationships with female staffers? Yes. Was I aware that other high-level male employees were having sexual relationships with female staffers? Yes. Did these female staffers have access to information and wield power disproportionate to their job titles? Yes. Did that create a hostile work environment? Yes. Did I believe these female staffers were benefiting professionally from their personal relationships? Yes. Did that make me feel demeaned? Completely. Did I say anything at the time? Sadly, no.
Here’s what I did: I walked away from my dream job. The show picked up my option after 13 weeks; then, about two months later, while looking for a nicer apartment, I realized I didn’t want to commit to a yearlong lease. I’d seen enough to know that I was not going to thrive professionally in that workplace. And although there were various reasons for that, sexual politics did play a major part.
On my last day at Late Night, Dave summoned me to his office and pressed me on why I was quitting the show. I considered telling him the truth, but with Dave’s rumored mistress within earshot, I balked. Instead, I told him I missed L.A. Dave said, “You’re welcome back anytime.”
Within months, I was working on the sitcom Coach. I was still the only female in the writers’ room, but the atmosphere was respectful and I stayed for several seasons. Since then, I’ve racked up a long list of credits as a TV writer, series creator, producer, and director. In short, I moved on. Until this story broke.
I decided to speak up now for three reasons: 1. People who have no knowledge of the situation are voicing opinions, so why not me? 2. Letterman himself opened this up to a public discussion. 3. I’d like to pivot the discussion away from the bedroom and toward the writers’ room, because it pains me that almost 20 years later, the situation for female writers in late-night-TV hasn’t improved.
Now, I don’t want a lawsuit. I don’t want compensation. I don’t want revenge. I don’t want Dave to go down (oh, grow up, people). I just want Dave to hire some qualified female writers and then treat them with respect. And that goes for Jay and Conan, too.
I realize that “hire qualified women!” is the sort of outraged demand that’s often met with a sigh. No one disagrees and yet gender inequality in high-paying positions extends into all professions. A friend of mine who temps at an investment bank once remarked to her male boss, “You know, I don’t see a lot of female bankers”—but he cut her off. “Don’t even,” he warned, as if the problem were simply unsolvable. But, of course, that’s not true.
One frequent excuse you hear from late-night-TV executives is that “women just don’t apply for these jobs.” And they certainly don’t in the same numbers as men. But that’s partly because the shows often rely on current (white male) writers to recommend their funny (white male) friends to be future (white male) writers. Targeted outreach to talented bloggers, improv performers, and stand-ups would help widen the field of applicants. I’m also aware of several worthy females who have submitted material and never heard back. In fact, I’m one of them. Back in June, I heard Late Show was considering hiring a contributing monologue writer who could work from home, so I submitted six single-spaced pages of jokes. I’ve yet to receive any response. (I’ve since signed on to two other TV projects, so I’m no longer available.)
Late-night shows shouldn’t relax their standards for women, but why not give feedback and encouragement if it’s warranted? Maybe a writer will nail the tone on her second try. I’d also like to see each show post submission-packet requirements on its Web site so everyone has equal access. Obvious, right? Unless the shows would rather complain about the dearth of female applicants than do anything to encourage them.
I have a theory. An executive producer with an all-male writing staff once inadvertently revealed his deep, dark fear. While discussing a full-time position for me, he mused out loud, “I wonder if having a woman in the room will change everything.” Of course, what he really meant was: “I wonder if having a woman in the room will change me.” Male writers don’t want to be judged in the room. They want to be able to scarf an entire bag of potato chips while cracking fart jokes and making lewd comments without fear of feminine disapproval. But we’re your co-workers, not your wives. Crack a decent fart joke and, as professionals, we will laugh. And while writers do need to feel comfortable in order to make comedy, denying an entire class of people certain opportunities in order to preserve a way of life seems a tad antebellum. Plus, it’s been my experience that a room with a fairer sampling of humanity will always produce funnier material.
I know it might seem awkward at first. Men might feel they have to censor themselves once females crash the party. But I have a dream—that one day a late-night writers’ room will be filled with poop jokes and fart jokes and jerking-off-to-Angelina-Jolie’s-face-on-a-magazine jokes, and everyone will laugh, including men and women of all creeds and colors.
Nell Scovell has been a member of the Writers Guild of America since 1987 and the Directors Guild of America since 1997. She has written for Murphy Brown, Monk, and N.C.I.S., and she created the TV series Sabrina, the Teenage Witch.
