The "moral values" voter has become a popular way of identifying a segment of the population that played a key role in the re-election of President Bush. But who are these people? What "moral values" do they hold? How do their values play out in their lives?
The term usually gets pinned on people who oppose same-sex marriage, abortion, and stem cell research. Reporters use such terms as evangelical, religious, Christian, and conservative to describe them. And often, journalists use these terms interchangeably. But what do they know about the topic? And what do they need to know?
We need to look behind the "moral values" label to address such questions. When we do, we will come across a host of descriptions. They show a spectrum of differences that get overlooked when we lump them under just one term.
But there are other voices that see other moral values at stake as well. And they claim the evangelical description, too. In fact, Tony Campolo, an American Baptist minister, professor of sociology and an evangelical says in a recent interview on the BeliefNet website that he believes "evangelical Christianity had been hijacked." That view prompted him to address the challenges faced by the evangelical movement in his new book, "Speaking My Mind." In the preface of his book, he writes:
There is a common perception among those outside our community of faith that we evangelicals are clones, and that when they have spoken with one of us, they have spoken with us all. Too often they see us as people who have a single way of thinking and talking ... To be credible, we must demonstrate that we are a body of individuals, each of whom can think for herself or himself.
Campolo, who considers poverty, war, and the environment among a number of moral issues evangelicals need to address, uses his book to explore and explain the controversial issues within the evangelical movement.
The search for a variety of voices is essential if journalists are to more accurately depict people who view morals as an important concern. The Associated Press included multiple views in a story that showed the political and religious tussle about the significant role moral values played.
Alan Cooperman at The Washington Post identifies other voices in a recent story that focused on "liberal Christian leaders," and a new poll on moral values. In this poll, almost twice as many voters cited "greed and materialism" and "poverty and economic justice" more often than abortion or same-sex marriage. Among those Cooperman interviewed were Jim Wallis, editor of Sojourners, and the Rev. Welton Gaddy, head of the Interfaith Alliance. Cooperman writes:
In a conference call with reporters to discuss the election and the new poll, Wallis and three other Christian leaders argued that many religious Americans do not fall neatly into liberal or conservative camps ... They contended that there is a vast religious middle, including "progressive evangelicals," "resurgent mainline Protestants" and "socially conservative African Americans," that could be attracted by biblically based "prophetic" appeals to make peace, fight poverty, and spread social justice.
The next step for journalists is to wade into the complexity of this "moral values" arena. Cover the full spectrum of people who see values as a critical component of their lives. Look beyond the labels. Visit their places of worship.
Look into the programs they say reflect their values. Offer fuller profiles showing how they live them out. And don't forget that many people who profess no religious affiliation also see moral values as an important element in their lives.
Learn from websites that focus on religion and the press, such as The Revealer, produced by New York University, GetReligion, created by two religion journalists (Terry Mattingly and Doug Le Blanc), and ReligionLink, sponsored by the Religion Newswriters Association.
If journalists manage to capture the diversity of this topic, they may help the public understand that moral values involve a way of life -- not just a label.
Aly Colón spent a day in 2002 as a consultant conducting writing sessions for Focus on the Family magazine and its online news staff.
Many journalists understand that their professional standards must remain above reproach. But what about what they do on their personal time? What impact might their personal activities have on their journalistic credibility?
That's where the rub comes in.
Some journalists believe a great divide exists between the personal and professional. That what they do on their own time remains a private matter. That they should be able to exercise the same liberties any citizen would. After all, journalists, like the public, have subjective feelings and opinions. They exist in the world -- not outside of it. And their personal orientation shouldn't affect their professional reputation.
In fact, some might argue for more transparency. Let the public know what journalists believe, what political party they belong to, or what their political views are. That would allow the public to judge what they read, see, and hear in a fuller context. It also may not. Editors with different political leanings could be editing a reporter's copy. So the report may then reflect multiple views.
Others worry that certain types of personal activity might send mixed messages to the public. Will the public consider off-duty involvements of some journalists as a guide to what their reporting biases may be? A number of journalists believe they may have to give up certain personal freedoms to ensure that their independence won't be questioned.
But how much personal freedom must journalists surrender? That remains a controversial conversation in newsrooms. Evidence of those differences emerged recently when The St. Paul Pioneer Press suspended two of its reporters for attending a concert. Pioneer Press Editor Vicki Gowler addressed the controversy in a column Sunday.
Gowler had informed the staff that attending the "Vote for Change" concert could be seen as a conflict of interest because the proceeds go to Democratic candidates. The reporters who went disagreed. Their union said it would seek arbitration regarding the suspension.
Some news organizations have explicit restrictions or ethics codes that prescribe what journalists may or may not do. Others leave such decisions to the journalist's individual discretion. With regard to the "Vote for Change" concert, Editor & Publisher reported that The Washington Post wouldn't allow any of its reporters to attend, while the Cleveland Plain Dealer didn't say its staff couldn't attend.
The concert serves as just one example of the many different personal/professional decisions that journalists may face during this political campaign and ones to follow. At Poynter, our principles seek to guide journalists in how they might think about such issues. Part of our independence principle encourages journalists to "remain free of associations and activities that may compromise your integrity or damage your credibility."
What does that mean? I believe it means we need to try to imagine what people would think if they witnessed us saying, or doing, something that would raise questions about how fair, impartial, and complete we can be in reporting the truth as fully as possible.
It may be helpful for journalists to put themselves in the place of their readers, listeners, viewers, or users and consider what their reaction might be if they saw themselves the way the public might.
Imagine, for example, what someone might think:
These are just some of the situations that journalists could find themselves addressing. I'm sure the answers to the questions may vary from one journalist to another.
The public's perception of us will vary as well. In part, it will depend on how well the public understands what journalists do and how they do it.
It also depends on how well journalists explain who they are and what they do. Seeing themselves through the public's eyes may help journalists realize how personal acts affect perceptions of their professional work.
Can a journalist be too truthful?
How much should the public know about what a journalist personally believes about what she or he reports on professionally?
These questions and more arose when Farnaz Fassihi, a Wall Street Journal reporter based in Baghdad, recently wrote the truth about Iraq as she saw it. It prompted some journalists to ask if doing so compromised her credibility. It caused others to wonder why Fassihi's account, which they consider truthful, should adversely affect her credibility.
Her candid and compelling account appeared in a personal e-mail to her friends that became public without her permission. It included what she had observed, what facts she knew, what she didn't know.
She also added a few of her own personal opinions. That's what raised questions for some journalists about how her reporting on Iraq might be viewed when it appeared from now on in the pages of the Wall Street Journal.
A number them began asking if she had revealed too much about her own perspective. Others wondered why anyone would read her account as anything other than an accurate rendering of what has been going on in Iraq.
Two competing principles intersect here. One involves the mandate to report the truth as fully as possible. The other deals with journalistic independence, which includes avoiding anything that might damage your credibility.
Fassihi definitely offered her unvarnished version of the truth when she told her friends about Iraq and the role the United States plays there. What some journalists are wondering is whether the opinions she included in her e-mail may make some readers question the fairness of her reporting about Iraq in the future.
I think it's important to stipulate a few things. What Fassihi wrote was a personal note, not a news report. She sent it out to people who know her, not to those who don't. And her opinions followed factual, and substantive information, drawn from thorough reporting, her extensive knowledge, and her firsthand experience. Also, much of what she wrote has been documented by other journalists and observers.
This merits mentioning because it shows this was not a personal opinion piece masquerading as a news story. It also indicates that she was not trying to influence the news process with her views.
Yet, the question lingers for some: Now that her views have received such widespread exposure, will readers wonder about her impartiality?
One simple way to address that would be to take her off that beat. (As it happens, she will be on a planned vacation that will run past the election, which had nothing to do with the e-mail, according to The Journal). By reassigning her, The Journal would keep the readers' attention on the paper's reporting, not on its reporter and her opinions.
But that's not the only alternative.
The Journal could keep her on the beat, explaining to readers what happened, and why it believed Fassihi could continue her reporting from Iraq in the same professional and impartial manner she has been doing. (In fact, Paul Steiger, The Journal's managing editor, did support Fassihi. He was quoted in the New York Post saying that Fassihi's opinions didn't adversely affect the fairness of her news reporting.)
Informing readers about how the newspaper works at protecting the integrity of its reporting may have helped address questions about Fassihi's reporting. Sharing the journalistic process common to most newsrooms might help readers understand the steps news operations take to maintain their credibility.
The paper could explain that, unlike an e-mail sent directly from the writer to the reader, the reporting done by journalists such as Fassihi must make its way through a phalanx of editors. Those editors work with the reporter to ensure the coverage meets standards of fairness, completeness, and accuracy that reflect the professionalism they all bring to the news product.
Now let's get back to the questions posed earlier.
Can a journalist be too truthful? Maybe the answer has to do not only with how much truth a journalist conveys, but how the journalist conveys it. Is it clear where the journalist is getting the information and how the reporting supports it? If there are questions regarding the credibility of the reporting, what disclosures or explanations are offered to address those questions?
How much should the public know about what a journalist personally believes about what she or he reports on professionally? What a reporter believes, or doesn't believe, matters less than how the reporting is supported by relevant facts, observations, and the other voices included in the story. And the more the public understands about the process involved in gathering and reporting the story, the better position it will be in to evaluate how credible the reporting appears to them. And if a reporter's personal views become known, the news organization needs to explain how, and what it does, to mitigate the appearance of bias and prejudice.
What are the boundaries that exist for a journalist when it comes to professional and personal communications? I don't know. Tim Rutten raises that issue in a piece he did for the Los Angeles Times. Journalists need to remember that whatever they say privately may have public consequences. I don't think that precludes journalists from having opinions. It just means they must remain alert to how those opinions may affect the way people view their reporting. It benefits them to weigh the benefits, and disadvantages, of what they communicate personally.
Interestingly enough, some readers may have found Fassihi's e-mail account even more credible than some mainstream reporting because it bears the marks of personal sincerity as opposed to a more formal and impersonal documentation found in many news reports.
Ultimately, the credibility we have as journalists may depend not on what we believe personally, but on how we act professionally. And how we act professionally needs to be explained in a way that helps the public understand how we bring them the best, and fairest, journalism we humanly can.
An ethical framework can slow the charge, helping reporters, editors, producers and news directors, better anticipate the weaknesses -- as well as the value -- in stories certain to draw press and public scrutiny.
Drawing upon Poynter's Guiding Principles and 10 Questions developed by Bob Steele, here is a list of some steps journalists can take to help them pursue controversial stories in an ethical way.
Before you publish or air the story:
Although many journalists profess a hatred for math, they love using numbers as a hook.
The military death totals in Iraq became the latest example of that attraction. On September 7, news organizations reported that the number had reached 1,000. It has climbed since then. That number prompted a number of stories.
The Washington Post labeled it a "milestone." A story in The New York Times referred to it as a "sober milestone." The Los Angeles Times painted it as a "grim milestone." Reuters reported the total as a "politically sensitive benchmark." I heard a Fox News television report calling the U.S. casualties "a terrible milestone."
A milestone is defined as "an important event…in the history of a nation,… a turning point." A benchmark represents "a standard by which something can be measured or judged."
But how do we determine the importance of such an event? What number constitutes a turning point? What's the standard?
An email from Michael Stanton to Romenesko prior to the death toll reaching 1,000 presaged such questions and sought advice about how best to approach them. Stanton asked: "Do people believe that this is the kind of "milestone" that is significant to the readership in terms of helping them come to terms with the scope of the nation's involvement in Iraq, or should the 1,000th death not be treated any differently than those that came before?"
I agree that focusing on that number, or any number, can be challenging. Stanton posed good questions to ask before the "event" happened. They still serve as valuable questions that journalist can consider as casualties mount and other "milestones" emerge.
Numbers do tell us something. But what?
As I read various news websites' notation of how the 1,000 deaths constituted a milestone, I began looking for clues as to why this number was significant enough to attract the attention of news people and to dedicate prominent space to it. I tried to figure out why the number 1,000 stood out.
A number of the stories I read didn't make that clear. Some simply reported the number. Others noted the political sensitivity to that number, noting that Senator John Kerry had referred to the number and the divisiveness it might provoke.
But why was the number 1,000 more important than any other number, say 700, or 825, or 910?
For example, a political furor erupted briefly last April when ABC's "Nightline," anchored by Ted Koppel, aired a special report that planned to name the 500 troops who had died in combat in the Iraq War. Then Nightline decided to add another 200 who died in non-combat situations. The controversy prompted Poynter's Al Tompkins to interview Koppel for more understanding about "Nightline's" coverage.
Obviously, there's something attractive about large, round numbers, especially if they include many zeroes. Yet, how do news consumers sort out the value of such numbers? And this includes how journalists report other numbers as well: Unemployment rates, job growth figures, inflation rates, sales and profit numbers, etc. We need to offer the number and the story beneath it.
With regard to the U.S. military deaths in Iraq, I asked Poynter librarian David Shedden to help me with an historical comparison of U.S. military deaths in other conflicts. He found an Associated Press report that noted the following:
Now those numbers alone don't tell the whole story either. They also don't tell us the number of military deaths suffered by the other countries involved in the conflict. But at least they offer one standard of comparison. The duration of time in which the deaths take place offers another context. A number of other stories made efforts to flesh out the numbers.
In The New York Times story noted earlier, reporter Monica Davey put the death toll in some perspective. Davey used the number of deaths to provide information about those affected in a variety of categories: Age, geography, race, ethnicity, branch of service, cause of death, rank, and gender. She also found people who helped humanize the numbers.
Associated Press reporters Sharon Cohen and Pauline Arrillaga wrote a piece that tried to answer the question posed in the subhead: "What does it mean that 1,000 Americans have died?" They compared the death toll to other wars, noted where those who died came from, including those born in foreign countries. In addition to other breakdowns, they showed the impact the deaths had on certain communities.
As journalists, we report numbers only as one dimension of the journalistic process. More work must follow. Our journalism improves when we:
When we do journalism by the numbers, we need to offer not just the count, but the context.
The Swift boat coverage reflects the heat-seeking political journalism that is so prevalent today.
It contains all the elements we find in such stories:
With the Republican National Convention beginning next week, maybe we can learn from the Swift boat controversy that exploded following the Democratic National Convention.
Instead of addressing such controversies by simply seeking commentary from competing camps, journalists might consider asking questions that illuminate, rather than just ignite, an issue.
When the political accusations/allegations begin flying, here are some of questions journalists might use to increase the public's understanding of what they mean:
Commentary and feedback on the Swift boat coverage:Campaign Desk By CJR Reporting Unprovable Allegations in an Election Year By Jeffrey Dvorkin, NPR Swift boat attention creating confusion By David Folkenflik, The Baltimore SunEditors Grapple with How to Cover Swift Boat Controversy By Joe Strupp, Editor & Publisher Swift Boat Story a Sad Chord By Jay Rosen, New York UniversityComprehensive stories on the controversy:The Washington Post The New York TimesFirst person account:'This is What I Saw That Day', By William Rood of the Chicago Tribune
Such an approach promises to devalue what we do and how we do it. If we want to ensure our credibility in the midst of the controversy, here are some things to remember:
To play with a popular line, the race is not always to the swift but to those secure and sure of what they have to offer.
I stared at the line that appeared on one news channel after another, tracing the predicted path of Hurricane Charley. The red, curving line -- filled with spinning circles -- led right up to Tampa Bay, Fla., where I live. The news I watched, heard, and read prior to Hurricane Charley's arrival mattered; it factored into decisions I would make with my family that might spell deliverance or disaster.Anyone facing the possibility of a life-threatening event, such as a hurricane, a tornado, or even an act of terrorism, depends on the news media for information. We, like others in similar situations, face serious questions: What should we do? Where should we go? How soon should we act? How the news media responds to such questions may help or hinder us.
I watched the local news media throw itself completely into the coverage of a local hurricane threat unlike any other in years. Local news directors and editors dispatched crews everywhere they thought would yield information people might need. I felt grateful for every fact that clarified what was happening. I shuddered each time I heard pronouncements that made possibilities seem like indisputable facts. I felt overwhelmed when the information flowed indiscriminately, without any other purpose than to pass it on.
More coverage is good. More thoughtful coverage is better. A return to fundamental reporting, which includes ethics as a critical component, becomes imperative.I valued the substantive reports that told me what knowledgeable sources, government officials, and hurricane experts had to say. I wondered when some news people spoke with authority about what would happen and what people should do. How did they know this? What were they basing it on?
For example, I heard a number of reports that the hurricane was definitely headed our way. We needed to evacuate. While I valued the information, I felt more confident about it when the reporter attributed it to a source. Some did. Some did not. I imagine that to save time some reporters simply relayed the information directly without wasting time on attribution. But that attribution helps the news consumer evaluate how reliable the information is.
I sensed sameness in the coverage. Reports seemed to agree with each other. This made the information, and the latest technological tools used to track the storm, seem even more solid. Reporters did not always remind us that nothing was certain. The tone seemed authoritative. But I wondered if there were different, or contrary, views?
The uncertainty,unpredictability of the event sometimes seemed de-emphasized. The Washington Post, for example, published a piece after the hurricane hit that explained tracking paths is more accurate than it used to be, but not perfect. Had we been aware of the limitations, we might have made different decisions, as indeed some of those south of us may wish they had.
Our reporting has implications for the public, whether the news involves a hurricane, tornado, flood, severe storm, or terror alert. To handle that reality responsibly, consider using ethical guidelines and questions as part of the reporting process. Think about:
If you have other suggestions, please share them. The coverage of such events taxes journalists, as well as the public. We need the confidence to share what we know, what we don't know, and what we need to know. Then we can report that so the public feels alerted, not just alarmed.The hurricane hit south of us, ravaging the coastal and inland communities in its path. While we were spared, others suffered. The coverage of the disaster continues. For those who thought the hurricane would hit their communities, and for those who experienced it, the hunger for information has not abated.
With the Democratic National Convention behind us, the Republican National Convention ahead of us, and the coverage of political races all around us, I hear a journalistic variation of Simon & Garfunkel's "Sounds of Silence" playing in my head.
Sing along to my version:
Hello politics, my old friendI've come to cover you againBecause a coverage loudly screamingLeft its stories while I was watchingAnd the journalism that was planted in my brainStill remainsOutside the sound of silence …And in the naked camera eye I sawTen thousand journalists, maybe moreJournalists talking without ceasing Journalists pontificating without reporting Journalists presenting stories that they want to shareAnd all of them dared to disturb the sound of silence
My reworking of the lyrics may seem an odd way to examine ethics and political coverage. Even the idea of silent journalists sounds like an oxymoron. After all, regardless of the platform, we see ourselves as part of a mass medium. We channel voices into community -- and countrywide --conversations.
How can silence serve that mission?
I wondered that myself. And I continued pondering it because Sheila Colón, my wife, decided to use me as a proxy for the news media and vent her displeasure about the coverage she witnessed.
She kept asking me why the network news operations offered so little coverage of the convention. And, in a more frustrated tone, why the cable news networks that did provide coverage told too much and showed too little.
I initially attempted to offer a variety of possible explanations. First of all, ABC, CBS, and NBC no longer exist solely as news companies. Instead, they are subsidiaries within larger, commercial enterprises with interests beyond journalism. Or maybe they felt that the need for more complete coverage seemed less imperative since there was no news as to who the nominees would be.
Besides, I tried arguing, viewers could turn to the cable news channels, which offered more coverage. Finally, for those who simply wanted to watch and listen to a news version of cinema vérité, they can turn to C-SPAN.
Sights from the Convention
Al's Convention Meeting
And she's not alone in that desire. Other people we know said the same thing to her and to me. The day after Sheila expressed her views, I turned to Poynter Online's STUMP, where published comments by multimedia editor Larry Larsen and Institute president Karen Dunlap bemoaned what I refer to as "journalistic interruptus." Even politicians and media critics voiced their frustration in a recent USA Today piece.
So what can we learn from this?
That silence works. Not the silence that stills the public's voice. But the silence that strategically, and wisely, occurs when we, as journalists, get out of the way of the story.
While I've been focusing on the television coverage, I believe the public also wants journalists to mute their own voices more often when it comes to relaying the news on radio, in newspapers, and online. And then amplify and expand the voices of those participating in the political process from voters to campaign workers to candidates.
Don't misunderstand me. I value the analysis, interpretation, and opinion that journalists can offer on political events. I just think it may help to make it clearer to the public when, and where, coverage rather than commentary is taking place. And to focus more on the former and maybe slightly less on the latter.
While news consumers have many more choices to turn to for coverage, including political weblogs, they also yearn for opportunities to see (literally and through their reading) what's going on as completely as possible.
Some important questions to consider when it comes to the journalist's role in such political coverage: When does it make sense to get out of the way? And do viewers understand when we've shifted from news to commentary?
We need to think about how we're answering those questions so we can offer the public more transparency about what we're doing and why.
For those of us eager to tell others what to think (and I include myself in that category), we need to remind ourselves that people also want to come to their own conclusions. They need us to be their eyes and ears, not just another mouthpiece.
My colleague, Chip Scanlan, offers a number of fascinating books we can enjoy in a recent column, which I've printed and plan to use.
I thought about making a similar reading list for books about ethics. Then I thought again. (Please stifle your sigh of shock and relief. Contrary to the stereotype, even those of us who care about ethics like to have fun.)
After all, summer speaks to me of sun, fun, and puns. I'll spare you the puns. But in the fun category, movies offer escape from the heat, and an entertaining way to watch journalistic ethical issues unfold.
Dr. Ink turned to Poynter librarian David Shedden for a list of movies back in 2001 when he answered a question about his favorite movie about journalism. His answer? "The Year of Living Dangerously," 1982. I consider it a fascinating picture as well, fraught with ethical subtexts. I drew upon that list, too. And I want to thank David Shedden for his help once again.
So what are some movies that go well with buttered popcorn and salty ethics?
"Absence of Malice," which came out in 1982, still stands out as a popular movie that shows the ethical shortcomings the media faces when it comes to relationships with sources and investigative reporting. Written by a former executive editor of the Detroit Free Press, the screenplay brings a feeling of authenticity to the time and the journalism portrayed.
"The Front Page," a classic that graced the silver screen in 1931 (Ran as a TV series in 1945, 1948, 1949, 1970, then was remade as a film in 1974), captured another age and angst. See "The Paper," 1994, for a more modern take on the challenges journalists face. Don't miss the pressroom scene for the physical force that ethics can require.
Another classic, "Citizen Kane," which premiered in 1941, offers a full range of ethical, and unethical, entanglements that seem as pertinent today as when it first came out.
On the broadcast front, the battle between business and journalism values takes fascinating twists and turns in such favorites as "Network" (from 1976), "Broadcast News," (from 1987), and "The Insider" (1999).
Below, I provide an incomplete list of movie titles, along with short comments from me, that you can consider checking out of your local video store for your entertainment and ethical enjoyment.
Feel free to post your favorite titles of movies about journalism that raise ethical quandaries. And enjoy the summer.
I want my name spelled right. People usually do. Especially when their name appears in a newspaper. A long time ago, way back in the 20th century, I remember a comment that went something like this: I don't care what you write about me so long as you spell my name right.
In fact, I believe spelling someone's name right has ethical implications. After all, a fundamental element of ethical journalism involves accuracy. Misspelling someone's name results in an inaccuracy. Therefore, a newspaper that knowingly misspells someone's name publishes inaccuracy and might be viewed as unethical.
Simple enough, right? Well, maybe not as simple as it might seem. At least not when it comes to my name, or others like it. You see, my last name requires an acute accent mark in order to spell it correctly.
Notice the short slash over the second "o." It's also called a diacritical mark. Without that mark, I become a punctuation mark, or a part of the intestine: a colon. Not only is that an inaccurate spelling, some might even wrinkle their noses at it, no matter what Shakespeare says about "a rose by any other name..."
Besides, it is my name. And as Allan Siegal, an editor at The New York Times, e-mailed me when I inadvertently misspelled his last name: "It is a poor thing, but mine own."
The fact is that names matter. Spelling words correctly matters.
So what prompts me to raise this issue now? After all, I've been fighting this spelling/accuracy battle with my name all my life. Whenever, and wherever, I could, I tried to make sure my byline had the acute accent mark over the second "o."
A reporter in similar circumstances asked my advice recently and rekindled my interest in the topic. On one level, it's a relatively simple matter -- a simple mark above a letter in a name. In fact, it's an issue with many dimensions: ethics, diversity, accuracy, technology, consistency, and tradition.In pursuit of answers, I turned first to a couple of wordsmiths I've consulted before: Norm Goldstein, the Associated Press' stylebook editor, and John McIntyre, the AME of the copy desk at The Sun in Baltimore and president of the American Copy Editors Society.
I asked both of them about the use of accent marks, and other diacritical marks such as the tilde, umlaut, etc., as well as their views of the standards governing their use. McIntyre's response came swiftly and succinctly: "It's a mess." He explained in a phone interview that the use of accent marks presents a number of challenges. They include the transmission of such marks by wire services, their display by various newsroom computer systems, and the special handling they require from already over-burdened copy desks. Using accent marks also represents change, an unwelcome force in most institutions, including newsrooms. "People in the newsroom are remarkably resistant to change," he said. "The way we deal with accent marks would generate even more resistance. Their attitude is: 'We don't like change and we won't make an exception for you.'"
Goldstein e-mailed me that the AP doesn't use diacritical marks on its general wires, although some of its world wires do, especially in Latin America.
"We do not use accent marks because they cause garbled copy in some newspaper computers. (We categorize them as "nontransmitting symbols.)," he wrote in his initial e-mail to me.
The New York Times stylebook, he added, notes that "accent marks are used for French, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, and German words and names." He said that "Times style calls for six marks: the acute accent, the grave accent, the circumflex, the cedilla, the tilde, and the umlaut."
He also referred to an article by Jesse Wegman, who wrote about diacritical marks for Copy Editor, with the headline "Accent on Diacritics." The story, he noted, surveyed copy editors and found "one thing above all: copy editors spend a surprising amount of time thinking about diacritical marks, because there is no single generally accepted standard for their use."
Bill Walsh, author of the book "Lapsing into a Comma: A Curmudgeon's Guide to the Many Things That Can Go Wrong in Print — and How to Avoid Them," and a copy editor on the national desk of The Washington Post, responded to my query about this issue by e-mailing me that "any newspaper that tries to use accent marks dooms itself to inconsistency, unless it uses no wire copy."
He argues that since wire services don't use such symbols, copy editors would need to track down every name that might use one and ask if it's required. "Obviously, that's impossible," he wrote.
"The counterpoint is that we should at least do our best to be correct where possible," he added. "But I don't consider this a matter of correctness. English isn't a language of diacriticals, and we're writing in English."
Walsh points out that this represents his personal view and that The Washington Post does use some diacritical marks. If the paper can verify a name needs a tilde, it uses it. But that's because it has been argued, he wrote, that the tilde, an ñ and the n, are different letters in Spanish. "...To omit the tilde is a misspelling — a more serious error than the omission of an acute or grave accent mark," he wrote.
Obviously, I don't agree that it's a less serious error. But then I do have a personal bias in this case, as I think anyone would who would want his or her name spelled correctly. I do, however, empathize with the concerns outlined by Walsh and other copy editors. As the newspaper's gatekeepers of the language, and the accuracy of the copy, they take their roles seriously. And they should.
Clark P. Stevens, Senior Editor for Copy Desks at the Los Angeles Times, expressed similar concerns and also recognized the personal element associated with this issue. "The most troubling aspect (with regard to accent marks) gets down to names. Because names are considered so sacred," he said during a phone interview.
He added that some people might not even know whether their name requires an accent mark, and that many Latinos might not even use them here. "I suspect as we (go) down the line we will probably make some compromise measure to probably put marks on all proper names, but I'm not sure we would do that," Stevens said.
The consistency factor bothers Stevens, as it does the other copy editors I contacted. In fact, when Stevens checked out Poynter Online he found that while an accent mark appears in my byline, my name does not consistently include the accent elsewhere on the site. Was it a style issue? Confusion? Computer driven?
"Is it inconsequential? Does it mis-serve you or, more important, readers?" he wrote to me in an e-mail trying to elaborate on the struggles copy editors face with this issue.
Again, I appreciate the complexity involved with this quixotic venture I'm on. But maybe that's only natural since my great-grandparents came from the same country where writer Miguel de Cervantes sent Don Quixote (Quijote in Spanish) out to tilt with windmills. (And if my high school honors Spanish teacher is reading this, he might e-mail me how much he had to challenge me to get the accent marks in the right place.)
So let me suggest this: If someone asks that his or her name be spelled correctly -- and that means using a diacritical mark that can be verified -- then use it.
Walsh, in "Lapsing Into a Comma," addresses another language issue: the use of the word, gay. "Yes, the appropriation of gay by homosexuals did rob us of a perfectly good synonym for happy," he writes. "But the latter usage — and, frankly, this complaint is getting rather tired. The new usage? It's here. It's queer. Get used to it."
I'd like to use that same argument with regard to accent marks. Those of us with such names are here. Get used to us.
In a follow-up e-mail, Goldstein at AP noted that: "My own feeling is that use of accent marks will increase -- but slowly –- among all publications, including the dailies, as (1) technology eliminates the physical difficulty (there are no keys on my keyboard for many standard accent marks); and (2) the language continues to absorb international words and they become more familiar to the mainstream."
And finally, this topic sent me to review "The Story of English" by Robert McCrum, William Cran, and Robert MacNeil. The book shows how English has been an evolving language that has welcomed the immigration of new words the way this country has welcomed (or tried to welcome) new immigrants.
The book includes something written by H.L. Mencken, in "The American Language," in 1919, that all of us who care about language may want to remember:
"A living language is like a man suffering incessantly from small haemorrhages, and what it needs above all else is constant transactions of new blood from other tongues. The day the gates go up, the day it begins to die."
Imagine this: You're a journalist, attending a business reception to interview someone. On your way in, you drop your business card into a bowl filled with other cards.
Later, someone reaches into the bowl. He draws out your card and calls out your name. You've won first-class airline tickets, with such amenities as massages and an open bar. Total worth? About $20,000.
What would you do?
Debra J. Saunders, a columnist at the San Francisco Chronicle, recently faced what you just imagined. She was at a reception hosted by the British Consul during a bioethics trade show.
What did she do? She declined the prize on the spot. When I called her this week to talk to her about her decision, the first thing she wanted me to know was that she did the wrong thing.
"It was my mistake, I shouldn't have done it," Saunders said.
What she shouldn't have done, she stressed, was put her name in the bowl in the first place. "It was a stupid thing to do," she added.
When she arrived, she initially thought the bowl of cards might be the host's way of compiling an e-mail list for people who wanted information. But after she dropped her card into the bowl, she realized it involved a drawing.
"Once I did it, I knew I was going to win," Saunders said, adding she hasn't had that feeling before, nor has she won any such drawings before. She also knew something else: "I couldn't accept it."
Her decision surprised others at the reception. "The British bigwig practically fainted, telling the crowd, 'A journalist with ethics? Incredible,'" reported Chronicle columnists Phillip Matier and Andrew Ross as an item in their June 13 column.
She emphasized that the decision was one she made for herself. She wasn't trying to make a statement about what someone else should have done. "I'm comfortable with what I did. I think a lot of people would have done it. A lot of people wouldn't," she said.
She didn't enjoy turning down the prize. In fact, she can't remember what happened during the next 60 seconds after declining it. She had to ask who won the prize when the drawing was done again. The fact is she loves to travel. But she values her integrity more.
"I know it would have looked bad," she said. "People would think it was a quid pro quo. It would undermine my moral authority." And diminish her credibility, she added.
Even though the prize came from Virgin Airlines, and not from those hosting the biotech conference, she thought the airline might open a San Francisco office. She might end up writing about the company. And she said she doesn't know how to accept things from other people and not feel grateful.
For Saunders, the prize presented a conflict-of-interest. She describes herself as a conservative who writes an opinion column. She tells others what she believes is right and wrong. What she requires of others, she said, she must apply to herself.
"Writing a column made me a more moral person," Saunders said. "When you talk about how others should do things, you need to look at yourself. I know people who do those things (they tell others not to do). But I don't respect them."
She also thought it was possible her newspaper wouldn't let her accept the prize, so she considered it smart to say no in advance.
John Diaz, editorial page editor for the Chronicle, said Saunders did the right thing. It would have been out of bounds for her to accept it -- no matter what the amount, he added. The Chronicle has an ethics policy, and under headline of "No freebies," Diaz read me the following: "No staff member may accept free or reduced rate transportation, gifts, or junkets from current or potential news sources, including government agencies, or the government or agency of another country."For Saunders, the prize presented a conflict-of-interest. She describes herself as a conservative who writes an opinion column. She tells others what she believes is right and wrong. What she requires of others, she said, she must apply to herself. And yet Saunders' response stood out enough to surprise the British Consul hosting the reception. It appeared as an item of interest in a newspaper column. It got noted in Romenesko. That says a number of things about journalistic ethics. It shows ethics matter. It runs counter to the stereotype that some have about journalists being unethical. It reminds us that journalists' actions say something about journalists as individuals, and about our profession in general.
Some might characterize Saunders' decision as difficult. Who wouldn't welcome all the free travel, along with the enjoyable amenities tacked on? Giving all that up when you didn't even ask for it, and nothing is being asked of you, might seem silly.
Yet, others might think it an easy decision. Who wouldn't feel beholden to an organization that had given them so much? Just say "no," would be their response -- avoid the conflict-of-interest accusations that might follow.
In some ways, it seems the size of the prize played a part in the prominence it achieved as a news item. But does size matter? If she had turned down two tickets to a concert, a show, or a ballgame, would that make news? Maybe. Maybe not. If all she had accepted was a free meal, would that put her in any less debt?
I don't know how many times I've heard from journalists that "I can't be bought for a meal." Which, of course, begs the question: What could you be bought for? A Mercedes-Benz? An all-expense paid trip to Disney World? A free trip to Tuscany? Or even a wine company-sponsored trip to the California vineyards?
Ultimately, what journalists claim about their integrity means less than what they show when their integrity is tested. When it comes to writing, there's an old journalistic saw that says: "Show. Don't tell."
It applies to ethics as well.
"Challenge your assumptions." That mantra makes sense for journalists and for news consumers.
Whether we're one or the other or both, our understanding of news improves when we remind ourselves of two important questions:
- What do we know?- What do we need to know?
The New York Times & Iraq:* May 26 Editors' Note.* NYT Public Editor's View.
From Romenesko:* Prof disappointed editors' note was buried. (BaltSun)* Getler: NYT should have named names. (CNN)* Rutten: Note looks like leaky lifeboat. (LAT)* Wasserman: Impressed by NYT admission. (Miami Herald)* Easterbrook praises NYT editor's honesty. (TNR)* Rosen on NYT editors' notes. (PressThink)* Wycliff: The irony in the editors' note. (ChiTrib)* Smith: WMD reporting worse than Blair's sins. (TU)* New scrutiny for NYT news service (OC Register)* More skepticism needed from editors (UT)
These simple, direct, unambiguous questions move us into the arena of the complex, indirect, and ambiguous answers that often require more questions, more answers, and fewer assumptions.
The value of the two questions, and the need to challenge our assumptions, occurred to me again when I began following two different news events.
One involved the recent note from editors of The New York Times addressing the newspaper's coverage leading up to the U.S. occupation of Iraq, and of the initial stages of that occupation. The other dealt with a Pew survey of journalists that examines their views on the profession and how their values compare with the public at large.
Judging from the coverage, the note prompted not only a slew of stories by other news organizations, it also sent many assumption meters into overdrive. The note offered information, which in turn, prompted others to raise many more questions. (See box for related stories.)
- Why did the Times choose to do a note from the editors instead of a story?- Why was it described as an explanation but not an apology?- Why did the note have few people identified by name? (I counted two Iraqi sources and one military affairs reporter.)- Why didn't the note identify who wrote it?- Why did the note appear on A10?- Why didn't the note explain why it was being published that day, instead of earlier or later?- When will we see more such notes?- Will we see reporting on this coverage in the way we saw it with the Jayson Blair affair?- Why didn't the questions raised in the note occur to the editors and reporters before they published the stories?- What will the Times be doing to avoid the problems it raised in the editor's note?
The Pew survey -- especially the part about values -- and the subsequent stories it generated prompted more questions for me as well:
- How did Pew define "liberal," "conservative," and "moderate," for the journalists and the public who were asked the questions about how they would describe themselves?- What assumptions, if any, did Pew make by asking such a question?- How are those who are reporting or commenting on the terms "liberal," "conservative," and "moderate" define those terms?- Why did some of those who wrote about the difference in values assume that it would reflect a bias in the way journalists would do their work?- If that bias does exist, how does it manifest itself in the reporting of the news?- If journalists shared the same values in the same proportion as the public does, would that lead to fairer reporting?- What assumption is being made by those who suggest the inclusion of more "conservative" journalists in mainstream newsrooms would expand the diversity initiatives now associated with race, gender, and other differences?- What prompts some journalists and news consumers to assume the mainstream news media is "liberal," "conservative," or "moderate"?
I raise these questions not in judgment, or as indictments. I pose them as ways to get a better understanding. And to challenge any assumptions I might harbor.
When I touched base with some of Poynter's Ethics Fellows, who had been discussing the Times and Iraq coverage, they told me I could use the following comments that had been made during an e-mail discussion between them.
Paul Holmes, an editor at Reuters, said: "We all run the risk day in, day out, of being a touch too credulous in our pursuit of exclusivity and speed. We have to resist that temptation."
He noted that sources usually don't "give information to journalists out of the goodness of their hearts." They have agendas, he said, and journalists need to find out how they know what they know and press them to go on the record, or identify them "more precisely so readers can judge the credibility of the information."
Eric Deggans, who writes about the media for the St. Petersburg Times, noted that "the reason critics like myself protested anchors wearing flags on their lapels and using words such as "us" and "we" in referring to the military since 9/11 is because a free press is at its best when it is skeptical." He added that "classic patriotism demands a suspension of skepticism that is directly in conflict with our role as gatekeepers and professional skeptics."
So what are some ways we might challenge ourselves on a regular basis?
As journalists, it may involve challenging:
- Our preconceptions about what the news story is- Our blanket acceptance of what sources tell us- What we believe about the source's agenda- What we see as our agenda- What we choose to report and not report
As news consumers, it may involve challenging:
- Our automatic acceptance of what news organizations offer- Our tendency to rely on just one or two news media outlets- Our reluctance to ask more questions about what is being reported and how it is being reported- Our inclination to seek out news that only reflects our worldview, our political ideology, or our social perspectives
We could challenge ourselves in other ways as well. Feel free to share with us some of the ways you challenge your assumptions. Tell us what questions you ask about yourself, your objectives, your stories, and your sources.
Remember that challenging your assumptions and those of your sources doesn't mean you distrust them. Instead, the challenge serves as a tool for making your stories truer to the complexity and ambiguity that exists in the world we report.
Baby bibs usually conjure up images of tiny, smiling faces and mushy messes. But at the Baltimore Sun, no one is smiling about the gift of a baby bib and the ethical mess it created involving a possible conflict of interest.
The editors involved believe they need to protect the integrity of the news product. The staff writer believes the gift doesn’t undermine her credibility, according to published reports about the issue.
Conflicts of interest situations arise regularly for many journalists. The Sun episode represents only the latest in a string of incidents where conflicts of interests have been perceived. Another example includes the gay journalists in San Francisco who covered gay civil weddings there and decided to obtain a similar license themselves. And in Des Moines, a TV anchor appeared in her husband’s campaign brochures for a city council seat he ran for and won.
How odd that journalists, who work in a profession that encourages people to freely express themselves, find themselves often unable to freely express themselves. It reflects how complicated conflicts of interest issues can become.
Journalists, after all, live and work in interaction with other people– not in some isolated, artificial bubble. Those who want to participate in the civic life of their communities raise legitimate questions. Are we not human? Are we not citizens? Do we not have the same rights as other citizens? Should we not accept the same obligations involved in community building and participating in the political process? Are we not able to enjoy, and extend, the same courtesies that decent people extend to each other?
Some of us have knee-jerk reactions to such questions. Others among us grapple with the desire, or the request, to serve many masters. What seems obvious to some seems oblique to others.
That’s why some want rules. Here’s what you do. Here’s what you don’t do. But you can’t have a rule for everything. Rules can’t account for extenuating circumstances. Rules offer answers that may not address questions. And they encourage decisions, not critical thinking.
Those of you familiar with Poynter’s Guiding Principles for the Journalist, developed by Bob Steele, as well as his ethical questions that you can ask, know the value we place on the ethical decision-making process.
It’s not that rules are bad. It’s that they are just one of the tools we can use in the process rather than the only one we use.
One of the challenges we face in providing ethical guidance involves how specific, or how vague, we should be. For example, what about accepting or giving gifts?
A rule would be specific. It might say journalists cannot accept or give gifts. What does that mean? No gifts for anyone, period. How far should the rule extend? Governors? Mayors? Principals? Neighbors? Parents? In-laws? Children? Cousins? Friends? Friends who are mayors, principals, governors?
Contrast that with one of the points in our guiding principles: “remain free from associations and activities that may compromise your integrity or damage your credibility.” What does that mean? Should be we able to simply imply what we mean without saying it directly? We need to think that through and try to arrive at an option, or a number of alternatives, that best answer that guidance.
In effect, we need both specificity and flexibility. Bob Steele, who is Nelson Poynter Scholar for Journalism Values, stresses the importance of scale. How would we evaluate the scale of this conflict of interest? After our conversation, Bob offered this follow-up via e-mail:
"I believe news organizations should have enough written down when it comes to ethical standards and practices that everyone is on the same page on expectations. It's a matter of fairness to employees. The absence of clarity on these standards and expectations is a recipe for confusion and, in some cases, distrust."
Lou Hodges, who recently retired as the Knight Chair in Journalism for Ethics at Washington & Lee University, but continues teaching, sees conflicts of interest as virtually inevitable. Dealing with them is a moral issue, he said in a phone interview.
So his approach is to think of how to address them. He suggests three possibilities: Retreat, Recuse or Reveal:
1. Retreat from, or avoid all, conflicts of interest all together;2. Recuse yourself when you can’t avoid them, and pass the story on to someone else;3. Reveal your conflicts when you can’t retreat, or recuse, yourself.
I can empathize with the tension this creates.When a well-meaning neighbor knocks on my door at home and asks me if I would sign a petition, I wince. When my wife tells me she wants to contribute to a politician’s campaign, I cringe. When she mentions the possibility of running for local office, I pray—that the moment will pass.
My reticence about making my position public occurs almost instinctively. As a journalist who worked for newspapers for more than 20 years, I felt it imperative that I keep my views on public issues private.
It’s not that I didn’t want to participate in civic affairs. But I feared doing so in a public, overt manner, might cause others to see potential conflict in any reporting or editing I might do in those areas.
Although I now work for an educational institute, which does not have the same news conflicts faced by daily news reporters and editors, I still carry with me the journalistic framework that makes me cautious.
So, I politely decline the opportunity to sign the petition. I encourage my wife to express her political views—as her views. And I hope she runs—but for exercise.
“Aly Colón wants news reporters to get naked,” Jessica Raynor, an Amarillo Globe-News reporter, wrote in a recent story about a speech I gave at the Panhandle Press Association in Texas.
The ethical issue I wanted to talk about involved transparency.
And transparency, I told the group of Texan journalists, is nothing more than a fancy word for getting “naked,” or being open about what it looks like to be a journalist. These journalists, many of whom run, or work for, weekly and small circulation dailies, understood. They constantly contend with and confront tough journalism issues -- face to face, with people they know and who know them.
I revisited this issue in another setting. I spoke to a gathering of ombudsmen, public editors, and reader representatives at the recent annual meeting of the Organization of News Ombudsmen (ONO). Jeffrey Dvorkin, NPR Ombudsman and ONO member, offers a helpful explanation of what's involved in being an ombudsman in a column he posted recently.
Geneva Overholser, who writes the Journalism Junction column on our website, was a luncheon speaker and stressed how much more important the role of the ombudsman has become. Currently the Washington-based professor for the University of Missouri journalism school, she once held the ombudsman position at The Washington Post.
Tom Rosenstiel, director of The Project for Excellence in Journalism, and vice chairman of the Committee of Concerned Journalists, offered several ideas for change.
Journalists, he said, need to create a new relationship, or partnership, with their audience. He believes this partnership should reflect transparency. He suggested news organizations say more about their sources and why the rest of us should believe what they say.
There should be "no more 'Trust Me' journalism," he said.
I followed his presentation with a session I dubbed: "The Naked Truth about Who We Are and What it Means."
I began by offering the following definitions, which I got from www.Dictionary.com:
• Naked: Being without addition, concealment, disguise, or embellishment: the naked facts; naked ambition.
• Truth: Conformity to fact or actuality. Sincerity, integrity.
Then I offered my own definition of "The Naked Truth About Who We Are and What It Means": Being without concealment about what we do, why we do it, and how we do it. Offering facts about how our news organization works with sincerity and integrity.
During the session, participants talked about the steps they might take if it were brought to their attention that someone on their staff had fabricated a story. While they differed on the approach they might take, a number of them indicated they would try to be as open about the situation inside — and outside — their organization as they felt appropriate.
I stressed that transparency helps make news organizations more credible. It helps the public understand what journalists do and why they do it. And it makes journalists more accountable to one another and to those outside the newsroom.
Tim Franklin, when he was the Orlando Sentinel editor, spoke about transparency when he attended a Poynter-hosted conference called "Journalism without Scandal."
Franklin, now the Baltimore Sun editor, elaborated on that point when he wrote an article for the Poynter Report: "Coming Clean: Demystifying Journalism." In that piece, he explained why he believes transparency is such an important issue for news organizations today.
Drawing upon his suggestions, I adapted his work and wrote up seven steps that I thought might serve as a guide for ombudsmen to consider. Here they are:
These suggestions represent only a start on a path that could help make news organizations more credible. If you have more ideas, feel free to share them with us.
The title of Stanley Kubrick's last movie "Eyes Wide Shut" popped into my head when I began pondering an interesting question recently posed on Slashdot.org.
The question addressed the issue of online journalism ethics when it comes to blogs. It asked: "(D)oes the nature of the World Wide Web in fact give sites like Wonkette, Drudge, or even Slashdot a free pass on accuracy if it means the difference between getting the scoop or not?"
The "free pass" portion of that question brought an image to my mind of bloggers writing with their "eyes wide shut" unable, or unwilling, to look at the ethical implications and consequences of abandoning accuracy in their work. Like the Kubrick movie, the query raises issues of integrity and trust — and what happens when they become questioned.
A New York Times profile of Ana Marie Cox, a Washington D.C. gossip blogger, who writes the "Wonkette!" blog prompted the question. And a provocative quote in the article attributed to Nick Denton, the site's owner, emerged as the flame to which bloggers and ethics oriented journalists could be drawn.
That quote (subsequently challenged by Denton on his weblog) drew different responses from bloggers I asked to give me their feedback about the quote. Dan Gilmor, who writes an e-journal from Silicon Valley, stressed the importance of trust.
"I admire Nick," Gilmor wrote in an email to me. "But I don't agree with Nick on this issue. I think accuracy — or at least an explicit acknowledgement when a posting is only a rumor or otherwise poorly verified — is more important than timeliness. Just as we tend to take some print and broadcast journalism with a large grain of salt, we'll have to learn to parse what we read online — to develop a hierarchy of trust."
Dan Weintraub, a columnist at the Sacramento Bee and a political blogger for the paper, wrote me that standards can be different, or the same, as those of the blogger's employer, if they have one. And he also sees no reason why bloggers can't adhere to the same standards as mainstream metropolitan newspapers.
"But I also think it's ok for a blog, newspaper or otherwise, to stray from that," he continued in his email, "I wouldn't say that humor or scoops are more important than accuracy. But there is nothing wrong with informed speculation in a blog, as long as your readers know that's what it is. Ultimately the readers will be the judges of whether you are credible or not. If they don't like your track record they will go elsewhere."In an e-mail message, Jeff Bates of Slashdot wrote:
...I think there's a certain degree of truth to the posting, I think that it's a qualified truth. Yes, speed is prized -- but because of the elasticity of the medium, it also means that if there's even a small change, we post it, we update it -- and we admit mistakes. That's a far cry from having the mistakes corrected in the next day's edition, in small print, in spots no one ever reads. ...If something appears to be ludicrous, or out of whack, we do take efforts to check it out. But one of the other advantages Slashdot has is that even if we miss it, the readers catch it. Thousands of eyes make finding mistakes very easy.
I think Denton makes a valid point when it comes to the lack of humility, and the hubris, displayed by some news organizations, regardless of their platform. Too often, we journalists believe we hold the only keys to righteousness. We hold up our rules with pride, and then offer excuses when we skirt them for competitive reasons.
And there's nothing new about the question posed on Slashdot.
The examination of the premise that we inhabit a brave, brand new world where old rules don't apply has been written about, and challenged, by many people, including me. I noted in one of my earlier columns that "new tools need not cause us to discard the values we hold." And in another one, I outlined the financial temptations to our integrity as a news product because of the new capabilities of the web.
The desire to envision new ways for a new world re-emerges with each dawn — regardless of the world to which we're referring. Remember the emergence of "new economy" of the 1990s. It ushered in new companies, and with it the belief that the old economic rules no longer mattered. The industrial titans that once dominated the world of business became viewed as lumbering, earth-bound dinosaurs. We began doting on the dot-com companies, which had escaped the gravitational pull of economic history.
We know what happened.
So let's approach this new communications frontier with hands neither tied solely to our past, nor naively open to anything that seems fresh. Instead, we should remember that we will be judged by the kind of character we display in the work we do. The more transparent we are about who we are and what we do, the easier we make it for our news consumers to make up their own minds about the value we offer.
We trifle with trust at our peril. So we need to read, and write, blogs with our eyes wide open.
"Son," he said, "you should never talk about anything that you don't know anything about."
"Dad," I replied with some concern, "that will cut out 90 percent of all my conversation."
He paused. Then he leaned over so I could hear him clearly.
"Son," he said, "that's the idea."
When I tell people about that exchange, they usually laugh. And so do I. But then, I knew my father well. I knew where he was coming from. And he knew me.
I'm not sure I'd find such an attempt at humor as funny if someone else told that joke about me. Especially not someone I didn't know that well. And who didn't know me.
When it comes to humor, what makes me merry may make you mad.
Just ask the editors of the student newspapers at Carnegie Mellon University and the University of Nebraska at Omaha.
The student editors at Carnegie Mellon recently shut down their newspaper, The Tartan, for the rest of the semester following protests aimed at a cartoon with a racial slur against African Americans. The cartoon appeared in its April Fools' edition, which also offered poetry about a rape of a teacher and mutilation of a woman, along with a female genitalia illustration.
At the University of Nebraska at Omaha, the student editors of The Gateway made fun of African Americans, identifying a separate edition of their paper as "The Ghettoway."
In both cases, the editors said their April Fools' editions were meant to be humorous, not humiliating, to those targeted by their prank publication. But a number of people who read their editions didn't get the joke.
The antics of these papers, and the reactions they prompted, caught the attention of professional newspapers and news services. The journalists who called me wanted to know what I thought about ethics involved in publishing April Fools' editions.
One journalist wanted to pin me down about whether the April Fools' humor that made fun of people was an appropriate newspaper endeavor. I gave that journalist a definitive response: It depends.
It depends on whether that newspaper sees itself as a serious vehicle for disseminating news or whether it sees itself as a vehicle for satire and humor. I think that publications known for publishing satire on a regular basis stand a better chance of having people giving them some leeway.
Conventional newspapers face a different challenge.
It's not that they can't publish humorous stories. But doing so requires something of both those publishing such humor and those reading it. The newspaper needs to know itself and its readers well. And the readers need to know the newspaper, and where it stands, well. The readers also need to know the purpose for the humor.
But even then, the risk exists that the reader won't "get it." That there will be a disconnect between the humor and the humored. Some might see the disconnect the way Malcolm Muggeridge described it: "Good taste and humor are a contradiction in terms, like a chaste whore."
Have we become so politically correct, socially sensitive, and journalistically wimpy that we can't make, or take, a joke?
But when we make fun of others, we do so at our peril. The targets of such jokes may wonder whether such fun is meant lightheartedly or whether it masks certain biases, stereotypes, and prejudices. "Humor is also a way of saying something serious," T.S. Eliot wrote.
Some might say that in the past it seemed easier to publish April Fools' editions or poke fun at others. My sense of that view is that the only people who thought it funny were the people publishing the humor. Those who didn't appreciate being in the minority either had no voice or were ignored when they complained.
Today, everyone seems to have a voice, and no reluctance to use it. For some, that may make it more difficult to have fun and publish humor. For others, it may simply be that they want to be respected and find disparaging humor no longer acceptable.
So, what are we to do? Maybe we can listen to what the great American humorist James Thurber once wrote: "The wit makes fun of other persons; the satirist makes fun of the world; the humorist makes fun of himself, but in so doing, he identifies himself with people — that is, people everywhere, not for the purpose of taking them apart, but simply revealing their true nature."
Now, did I tell you about the time that I…
The names of news organizations making headlines because of ethical issues seem unending. The Blair/Bragg bombshell at The New York Times wasn't the beginning of this trend. And the revelations of Jack Kelley at USA Today won't be the end of it.
In the past months, a pattern became obvious. One news organization after another identified and then addressed an ethical concern. They ranged from plagiarism and fabrication to conflicts of interest and deception.
Some took swift action. Others engaged in long investigations. But no sooner did one problem appear solved at one place when another occurred somewhere else.
The constancy of these revelations, and journalism's reaction to them, reminds me of an arcade game I've watched my daughter play. It involves a flat surface with many openings and a rubber mallet. She slips in a token and green heads pop up constantly and randomly. She hammers them back into their holes. But they keep popping back up. So she slaps them down again. And the cycle continues.
What, if anything, can be done to break the cycle?
First we need to understand the cycle we're in. We assume we know what's right. We become aware of someone doing something wrong. We punish the wrongdoer. We reaffirm our desire to do the right thing.
The cycle includes elements of rules, rights, wrongs and punishments. We view all this from a punitive perspective. Do the right thing or pay the consequences.
Too often, it seems, we operate out of fear. Fear of doing the wrong thing. Fear of not measuring up. Eric Deggans, who writes about the media for the St. Petersburg Times and is a Poynter Ethics Fellow, examines the impact of this fear factor in an excellent column he wrote about why the Jayson Blair affair haunts journalists.
In that piece, he notes that fear is part of the fuel that powers our daily work. And among the fears he highlights is the fear of losing our credibility.
Fear motivates us. It also distracts and drains us. It takes a lot of energy to hammer all those problems back into their holes.
Maybe we need to reframe the way we look at ethical issues. Instead of living in fear that we might commit an ethical transgression, maybe we could focus on creating an environment that encourages ethical behavior.
I'm not suggesting we accept what we do with an unconditional faith. Rather, I'd like us to act on the basis of good faith. We're skeptical not because we don't believe but because we want to understand what we're being asked to believe. We ask questions not out of distrust but because we want better answers. We examine conflicts of interests because of our interest in excellent journalism.
Instead of seeking software that can identify plagiarism, why not use software and training that create ethical decision-making models that identify multiple options for getting it right? Why not admit we're not automatons with no feelings or biases, but human beings striving to be fair?
Carlos Sanchez, editor of the Waco Tribune and another Poynter Ethics Fellow, played it straight with his readers in a recent column he wrote debunking the myth of objectivity. He admitted journalists have opinions and biases. He also informed his readers his journalists could be fair. In writing the column, Sanchez showed faith in his journalists and in his readers.
The transparency demonstrated by Deggans and Sanchez about how journalism works, and how it can work well, exhibits the faith they have in themselves, in their work, and in journalism.
Their approach may represent an effort that helps usher in a new trend, one that lessens our fears of failure and increases our faith in journalism.
The benefit of thinking out loud is that it triggers more thinking. That happened recently when Simon Dumenco interviewed me about the impact the web has on a writer's work.
I want to use Dumenco, and his experience, as way of doing more thinking on this topic.
Dumenco, a columnist, writes for Folio magazine. The magazine is based in New York City. It serves leaders in the magazine publishing industry. He also writes for New York magazine and lives and works in the East Village of Manhattan. He estimates about a third of the creative people who live in his area are gay and lesbian, a community he has written about before.
He views his readers as having a "New York state of mind." Many of them, he said, function in a creative environment with gays and lesbians who are funny, bright, creative, and liberal.
He said he had used the "D" word because he believes it accurately describes O'Donnell. He noted that O'Donnell has used the word to describe herself. He also thought it was appropriate for his audience, whom he sees as funny, bright, creative, and liberal.
But that word caused readers elsewhere to ascribe to him views he said he doesn't hold. He found himself accused of being a hateful, straight man. He described himself to me as a funny, liberal, sarcastic writer, and as a loving, gay man.
But the vehement response from readers outside his area prompted him to wonder about context. The context he had for writing about the topic. And the context the readers had when reading him. So he called me to talk about it. He followed up our conversation with another column explaining the challenges of writing in one venue and being read in another.
In that column, Dumenco noted that I had told him that he couldn't escape the "de-contextualizing effect of the Web." It creates a fishbowl effect, I explained. The writer only sees the environment defined by the bowl's parameters, unable to see out. But the readers can see in.
The decision he faces, I told him, involves how he wants to look to others. "How do you want them to understand you?" I asked. The Web makes that decision, and the outcome, more challenging to control.
How might journalists think about context when it comes to the Web?
Here's one way to picture it. When I write for print, my words appear in a two-dimensional world defined by the personality and purpose of that publication. People who pick up that issue usually understand where the newspaper, or magazine, is coming from. And the writer, and his words, exist within that context.
The Web reminds me of the movie "The Matrix." The message of the Matrix is that we actually live in a world filled with multiple realities. The Web enables us to inhabit one reality while peeking into other ones.
It's important for reporters to understand how their work is distributed online so that they can consider their audiences and take an active role in shaping the proper treatment. We publish from an insular worldview for readers living in what I'll call an "outsular" environment.
So what are our options? Here are few suggestions.
Look outside ourselves: It helps if we constantly remind ourselves we are not the only planet in the literary universe. Cast your eyes about. What other planets exist? What might those who inhabit them think when they look at us?
Look inside ourselves: Examine where we are coming from. What might that mean about where we might be headed? Recognize that we have a map of where we are and where we're going: Share the map.
Look for connections: Find ways to connect your thinking with that of others. Can you find complementary examples? Are there ways to speak in multiple tongues so others can hear what you have to say in their language as well?
Look at the frame: "What you see depends on where you're standing," wrote C.S. Lewis, a professor of comparative literature at Cambridge in England. The frame you use determines what appears in the foreground and in the background, wrote Cole Campbell in the Poynter Report. Be aware that the frame you choose for your writing helps shape the perspective that readers bring to it.
As I began writing this piece, I wondered, as Dumenco did, about the context in which this piece would be read. Usually, you'll find your way to this piece through Poynter Online, which has a line that reads "Everything you need to be a better journalist." The headline for this article appears beneath a column name that reads "Talk about Ethics." I realized that using the "D" word might cause different people to react in different ways, and even make them focus more on the word than on the message I'm trying to send about context. That offers one context in which I will be read.
But I thought about how it might read in other contexts. And that led me to think about looking inside and outside, at the connections and frames.
Context. It means something. And we, along with those who read us, help determine the meaning.
We have been talking about how the media is handling a rumor about John Kerry that emerged earlier this week. As part of our discussion, we've been asking one another questions about coverage and exploring ethical responses. Here's a conversation that might help you do the same.Q: What do you do when rumors emerge about a political candidate?
A. Pause. Listen. Read. Evaluate. Reflect. Draw up a list of questions to consider. Talk with your colleagues. Consider using Poynter's 10 ethical questions, which include asking what you know and what you need to know, what journalistic purposes are involved, and what ethical issues emerge.
Q: What if the story already exists on the Internet and is being reported by other news media outlets?
A: Remember your organization's standards and practices. Review them. See if they apply in this case. If you don't have any formal policies, consider identifying some that could help guide you in your decision-making process. Check out Poynter's guiding principles for the journalist. Talk about and decide what principles you want to govern your actions and news coverage.
Q: We're on deadline. Don't we need to address this story now? Won't dealing with standards and practices slow us down?
Q: What about the justification (for publication) that says once the story is out, it's out -- and that there's no point trying to put the genie back in the bottle?
A: Many journalists believe that you can't un-ring a bell that's been rung. But that doesn't mean we can't consider alternatives for how we ring the bell. One option journalists can consider, when it seems appropriate, is to stop ringing the bell, or stop ringing it in the same way. Consider how your news organization will be heard on this story and what image you want your audience to have about how you cover such events.
Q: Don't voters deserve to know as much as possible about someone who is seeking their vote for president?
A: Voters need information that helps them decide whether a presidential candidate will be able to fulfill the duties of that office. They seek information about a candidate's character, abilities, programs, experience, and other factors. What voters determine as relevant in their decision-making serves as a guide to what journalists may want to consider covering.
Q: How should news organizations decide what's off-limits in coverage of presidential candidates?
A: In part, what's off-limits may depend on what standards and practices a news organization upholds and why. How journalists see their ethical responsibilities also influences what they cover or don't cover. The public's interests or sensibilities may also play a role. Knowing what you believe, why you believe it, how you act on your beliefs and how you communicate that to your audience helps determine what's off -- or within -- limits.
Q: Is there a different standard for presidential candidates than for, say, a small town city council candidate? For a prominent local business executive? For a well-known high school coach?
A: The standards we use don't have to change. But how we apply them depends on the questions we need answered. The goal of these questions is to understand how the people we cover fit into our journalistic purpose and how much impact their presence and actions have upon the community.
Q: All things considered, is it mostly a good thing or mostly a bad thing (for journalism, for democracy) that information like this moves so much more quickly now?
A: I think describing it as "good" or "bad" is less important than considering the consequences of how such speed affects us. How we address the seemingly instant access to information and news matters. It plays an important role in how issues are framed and how people view the world.
When bad things happen in good newsrooms, we usually zero in on the journalist. What did the individual do — or not do? That becomes the first in a series of questions aimed at highlighting the individual, the act, and what went wrong.
But an ethical, or unethical, act doesn't occur in a vacuum. It happens in the midst of a wide range of activity. Sometimes we remain unaware until someone brings it to our attention. Other times we suspect something, but fail to alert anyone.
How we react, and what we do, usually depends on the environment we work in and how it's structured to handle ethical questions. The institution, as well as the individual, plays a role in the outcome.
I was reminded of that when I read a recent article about the media by Edward Wasserman, who holds the Knight Chair in Journalism at Washington and Lee University. Wasserman examines the resignation of reporter Jack Kelley from USA Today. Kelley's departure followed his admission that he had misled his editors in their investigation of accusations that his stories included fabrications and plagiarism.
...an ethical, or unethical, act doesn’t occur in a vacuum. It happens in the midst of a wide range of activity.Wasserman points out that other reporters at USA Today were aware of the allegations for years. Some wondered about Kelley's ability to come up with the quotes and information that appeared in his stories. Others attributed such questions to professional jealousy.
Regardless of what Kelley's colleagues knew, their concerns apparently failed to reach the ears of editors who might have acted upon them sooner. And that, in part, resulted from the way newsrooms operate, Wasserman asserts:
...(T)he ability to root out journalistic wrongdoing is hobbled by the way news organizations are run. The people with the keenest understanding of what's wrong with a reporter's work may well be other reporters. But they typically have scant opportunity to review and comment on coverage, as well as little institutional role in newsroom management. Editors meet regularly; reporters rarely.
He goes on to chronicle the ways that the newsroom hierarchy inhibits communication from the lower levels. He also notes out that reporters "get paid to focus on their own stories, not on the quality and integrity of the organization they serve." And that prompts them to complain anonymously, he adds.
Wasserman's view of how news people see their ethical responsibilities, and the ways they carry them out, spotlights the need for a re-evaluation of our roles. His piece prompted me to wonder what organizations could do to encourage journalists up and down the chain of command to communicate more effectively about critical issues of ethics and credibility.
Remind everyone who works on news that credibility undergirds everything they do. Without credibility, they have nothing of value to offer.If we want our readers, viewers, listeners, and users to trust us as journalists, and as journalistic enterprises, we need to see our ethical decision-making in a more complete way. We need to embrace the idea that ethics involves individual and institutional initiatives.
So, what can individuals -– staffers as well as bosses -- do to put the entire organization to work in pursuit of more ethical journalism?
Here are some suggestions, which many of you may already be doing or considering:
I offer these ideas not as final answers but as discussion starters. I welcome your ideas to help news organizations get better at preventing and spotting the bad things afflicting good newsrooms.
"Lesser artists borrow. Great artists steal." NPR correspondent Elizabeth Blair uttered those two lines in a report she did on artists and inspiration. She said a version of that saying has been attributed to both Pablo Picasso and Igor Stravinksy.
The saying surprised me. I expected the first line. But not the second. Great artists, after all, become great because of their originality. They stand out because their best work is unique, creative, totally their own. Or so I thought.
But Blair's broadcast brimmed with examples of artists who acknowledged creating work that copied other artists. Vincent Van Gogh copied Japanese art prints to perfect the technique he eventually developed, Blair reported. John Lennon's opening riff to "I Feel Fine" replicated the music from Bobby Barker's "Watch Your Step."
So, while these artists created their own work, they also used what they had seen or heard elsewhere. When you think of it that way, nothing, it seems, is truly original. Hence artists "steal" work from others.
That idea made me think about the propensity for plagiarism among journalists. Any regular Romenesko reader knows a report about yet another journalist caught plagiarizing seems almost as common as another "leaked" memo from management.
I, along with Poynter colleagues Roy Peter Clark, Kelly McBride, Chip Scanlan, Bob Steele, and Al Tompkins, have written and/or been interviewed about it. When I recently typed the word "plagiarism" in the Poynter search engine, it yielded 73 links.
The First Peril: FabricationA Matter of Trust
Stolen Words: How One Paper Responded
The Unoriginal Sin
Journalism Without Scandal
Codes of Ethics and BeyondSign up to receive Talk about Ethics by e-mail: * Click hereInterested in ethics? Check out our ethics seminars.
Maybe there's also concern that if you attribute -- or credit -- your work, others will think you are incapable of original thoughts and words.
Plagiarists plague newsrooms ranging from the university level to our most prestigious newspapers. An incomplete list of journalists accused recently of plagiarism includes: Jack Kelley, who just resigned from USA Today; Charlie LeDuff and Bernard Weinraub of The New York Times; Frank Deford of Sports Illustrated; Ben McCarthy, formerly of the University Daily Kansan; Tonya Dawson and Demetra Karamanos of the Cavalier Daily at the University of Virginia; and Catherine Fitzpatrick, formerly of the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel.
I don't offer these names and publications for condemnation, judgment, or additional flogging. They just serve as a reminder that accusations of plagiarism, like the poor, will be with us always (a journalistic version of Jesus' quote in Matthew 26:11).
Such revelations should encourage all of us to exercise much more care about what we write, and who we credit for our ideas and words. Jeffrey Dvorkin, NPR's ombudsman, recently made clear how conscious he is about accusations of plagiarism. In a column published on NPR.org on January 7, he went out of his way to attribute something he wrote, and even quote the writer and cite the publication.
Although I consider plagiarism a journalistic sin, I also recognize how fallible all journalists can be –- including myself. How humble I should be was driven home to me again one day while talking to my Poynter colleague Chip Scanlan. I was going on and on about the latest act of plagiarism I had read about, how awful it was for one journalist to steal another journalist's work. Chip listened. Then he voiced a concern. He was worried that somehow, in some way, he might commit an act of plagiarism. He's even written about how it almost happened to him.
He remarked that but for the grace of God... His expression of empathy, compassion, and concern reminded me of the human factors that might contribute to this problem. Could it have truly been inadvertent? Could it have happened as a result of gathering, pasting, or editing by the writer, or the editor? His humility contrasted with my high-mindedness. It brought to mind Oscar Wilde's quote that "Every saint has a past, and every sinner has a future."
So is journalism, like art, unoriginal? Are we always copying someone else? Are we talking about degrees rather than clear-cut acts of plagiarism?
Maybe we should frame the questions differently. Maybe we should think about what to do before it happens rather than just focusing on the punishment we need to mete out afterward. Maybe we need to create a pre-plagiarism frame we can work with that allows us to come up with questions that help us give credit when, and where, it's due.
In operating within such a frame, here are some questions we might ask about what we've written:
Maybe Blair's observation about artists ("Lesser artists borrow. Great artists steal.") can be adapted for journalists. Maybe it could read: Lesser journalists copy. Great journalists credit.
The craft of journalism dovetails with ethical decision-making in many ways. One of those ways involves how we handle information. In both cases, it seems that the more information we gather, the more questions arise about how to use it.
Tim Rutten at The Los Angeles Times raised a number of good questions in that regard in a recent column about the news media. In his piece, he focused on the glut of questionable information available to the public on the Internet and how mainstream news organizations deal with it.
In the process, he asked:
Rutten ruminates about those questions. He uses the Michael Jackson and Kobe Bryant cases as examples that challenge our journalistic ethical norms. I don’t plan to address those two cases here. (If you haven’t read Kelly McBride’s comments on the Kobe Bryant coverage, you can do so here. But I do want to think out loud about the questions he posed above, along with two other ones he asked later in his article:
Let me begin with the first two questions about whether withholding information available elsewhere abrades, or erodes, our connection to readers. Or, do clear ethical standards strengthen our bond with them.
I think our relationship with those who read, listen, or watch our news stems from a variety of factors. One of the most important involves trust. They trust us to gather all the information journalists need to understand the story as completely as possible. They also trust us to scrutinize that information. Evaluate it. And decide the type and amount of information they require to process and make better decisions about how to assess the world around them.
Their trust in an approach that adheres to transparent, ethical practices bonds them to credible news outlets in a way that differs from those who engage in rumors, gossip, or “infotainment.”
The presence of information on the Internet, just a few clicks away, has altered the public’s position in the information chain. We no longer act as unilateral gatekeepers. Readers can—and do—access information directly from many sources. Readers can even write their own stories on weblogs and other sites.
But that ability changes the relationship, not the foundation of that relationship.
Just because journalists and the public can access information more quickly it doesn’t make that information more reliable. Speaking on a panel addressing journalism quality on the Internet just a few years ago, Bruce Koon, then Mercury Center’s managing editor, noted that “speed is the enemy of accuracy.”
So while Rutten asked if our ethical norms no longer matter, and whether technology makes them obsolete, I would ask if we understand what we believe, why we believe it and how we show it.
The Internet makes information gathering and distribution different. So did the printing press. The telegraph. Radio. Television. With each evolution in media, new opportunities and challenges arise. Things change.
What doesn’t change is how we determine what we believe, how important it is to act upon those beliefs, and the credibility earned by those who hold ethical principles and practice them.
When we identify the principles we hold, and hold ourselves accountable to acting upon them, we create, and maintain, our credibility. It is upon such a foundation that trust exists.
We need to remember that things change. How we approach them may change. And how we handle the change affects our credibility.
Remember what happened to the Dallas Morning News way back in 1998? It thought it had an exclusive about a Secret Service agent’s testimony regarding what he saw happen between then President Clinton and Monica Lewinsky.
Knowing the speed with which news about the President moves, the Dallas Morning News saw an opportunity to scoop even its own print edition by putting the story on its website. In the process, it violated its own policy of corroborating such information with more than one source.
In part, it probably did so because it realized there are other places such news might appear. And the technology enabled it to distribute the information even more quickly than before, making it accessible to those seeking out such news.
The Associated Press picked up the story. Other news outlets passed it on. But a few hours later, the Dallas Morning News pulled the story, noting it was inaccurate. The newspaper later apologized for failing to follow its own guidelines and jeopardizing its credibility.
New tools need not cause us to discard the values we hold. The ethical decision-making process can continue to guide us. For some that may seem obvious.
But as Samuel Johnson once wrote: “Never hesitate to remind people of the obvious, it is what they have most forgotten.”
If you read my byline, you'll notice that I currently have two titles: Ethics Group Leader and Diversity Program Director.
Some people might wonder about the connection between ethics and diversity. Are they simply the two topics I specialize in? Or are they related in some way?
I believe a special bond exists between the two. I cannot talk about one without including the other. These two areas share common ground. Ethics serves as the soil in which the seed of diversity must be planted and from which our understanding of the relationship grows.
What links them? A reading of journalism's guiding principles, developed by Bob Steele, Nelson Poynter Scholar for Journalism Values, offers some clues.
Our first ethical principle of seeking the truth encourages journalists to "give voice to the voiceless."
Who are the voiceless? Often, they represent individuals and groups unknown to, or ignored by, the mainstream news media. They look different, or think differently, than the population at large. Unlike the powerful, whom we hold accountable, the voiceless must depend upon the news media to find them and include them in the civic conversation central to our democracy.
The second principle, independence, urges us to "seek out and disseminate competing perspectives without being unduly influenced by those who would use their power or position counter to the public interest." It also notes that good ethical decisions benefit from collaboration.
By identifying competing perspectives, we avoid advancing just one viewpoint. Doing so helps us find fresh frames we can use to address and understand issues.
"It makes you less dependent on any one segment of the community," Woods said. "The greater knowledge you have, the more independence you have in doing your journalism."
Finally, our third guiding principle -- minimize harm -- advises journalists to be compassionate and "treat sources, subjects, and colleagues as human beings deserving of respect, not merely as a means to your journalistic ends."
In order to recognize the harm that might occur, journalists need to understand the people they write about. That means becoming aware of the different ways our reporting, writing, editing, producing, and photojournalism affects people. It requires us to learn about diversity in all areas, including race, ethnicity, culture, class, ideology, religion, abilities, sexual orientation, gender, and politics.
The connection between ethics and diversity has a long history at Poynter.
Steele began addressing the intersection between the two in 1993 when he co-authored, with Jay Black and Ralph Barney, the first edition of "Doing Ethics in Journalism: A Handbook with Case Studies."
The handbook included a chapter on "Diversity," five case studies, and two checklists. The introduction to that chapter explains why:
It is clear ... that diversity issues have a place in any discussion of journalistic ethics. Diversity is clearly a part of accuracy and fairness, whether it relates to avoiding stereotypes or redefining news to better reflect a multicultural society. Diversity is about makeup of news organizations and about who is making decisions. Diversity is about the way story ideas are developed and who does the reporting. Diversity is about inclusiveness in choosing sources and about giving voice to the voiceless.
Diversity is about makeup of news organizations and about who is making decisions. Diversity is about the way story ideas are developed and who does the reporting. Diversity is about inclusiveness in choosing sources and about giving voice to the voiceless.
Bob added the following comments when I asked him how he saw the relationship: "I've approached this diversity-ethics connection in much the same way over the past 14 years in my teaching here at Poynter and in newsrooms. I anchor the discussions in the values of fairness, accuracy, and authenticity. I connect diversity to craft in much the same way we connect other elements of ethics and ethical decision-making to craft."
Ethics and diversity are more than words joined in my title. Diversity is an integral part of ethics. And any discussion of ethics would be incomplete without it.
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