I got a call the other day from the editor of a website that covers television news — a site that boasts a dirty word in its title. The f-word.
The editor wanted my comment on a good story he’d dug up: a TV station allegedly offering sponsors the chance to have live newscasts originate from their businesses and be featured in the news-all for a price.
It’s the kind of story that could almost make me utter the f-word.
But I didn’t.
In fact, after I offered my thoughts on the ethics involved in the story (I suggested the station was sacrificing credibility for short-term profit) — the editor asked me if I subscribed to his f-word site. After all, it breaks good stories and has a big following, he told me.
“No thanks,” I replied. “Not until you change the title.”
He laughed, “Don’t tell me that word wasn’t commonly used in your newsroom.”
As a matter of fact, I responded, it wasn’t.
“Come on…” he challenged.
I could honestly tell him that, while I have no doubt the f-word and its randy relatives were tossed around somewhere, sometimes in my shop, it didn’t usually happen around me. Or in the vicinity of my assistant news director, or many others on the team.
People understood that we viewed vulgar or vicious language as destructive to a work environment we built and nurtured. We saw it as cruel, ignorant, and unnecessary.
We also understood that beyond the concept of newsroom culture, there’s also the issue of law. Employment law.
Workers may complain to the company’s human resources department — and also turn to the legal system or government agencies when their bosses allow or ignore a hostile work environment. Such legal actions generally arise from misdeeds… but dirty words can matter, too. (The Wall Street Journal addressed the issue in a May 2001 article that it now keeps posted on its Careerjournal.com website.)
I’ve heard the arguments that profanity is just a release valve for all the steam that builds among people who cover tragedy and pain, who work crazy hours and are always fighting the demon deadline. But I don’t buy them.
As we create the daily miracle in our domestic newsrooms, journalists aren’t usually on the front lines of war. They aren’t doing triage in a hospital emergency room. They aren’t even cleaning bedpans.
Journalists are well-educated people who tell stories. As wordsmiths, the best are selective about their words, always looking for precision.
Yes, they must often do their work in a hurry, and depend on others in an organization for support. Sometimes colleagues let them down. Sometimes their tools break. Or their story subjects elude or oppose them. Sometimes their bosses drive them crazy.
That’s when they use angry words. But even then, they can choose those words carefully, too. Because, in the end, the f-word is ineffective in righting wrongs. It is more likely to stop good communication than start it.
That’s where leadership comes in.
As managers, we must understand the issues of language and civility more clearly and care about them more deeply, because we set the tone of our workplace. Or, as Daniel Goleman writes in the book Primal Leadership, “Because the leader’s way of looking at things has special weight, leaders ‘manage meaning’ for a group, offering a way to interpret, and so react emotionally, to a situation.”
If the best a leader can do is curse the darkness, the followers aren’t likely to be inspired, are they? If the boss is the VP of Vulgarity in an organization, some employees may emulate the toxic language. But others (and I suspect they are good employees) may simply leave.
Remember: the leader’s vocabulary becomes the stylebook for newsroom communication.
When the editor of dirtywordtelevision.com (name altered by me, of course) called me about his story in progress, should I have declined comment? Was it hypocritical to be quoted on a site whose name I find offensive? I hope not. I felt the issue at hand (integrity of TV news) was timely and important, and that the editor had a genuine interest in getting perspective from a Poynter faculty member.
At the same time, I also believed I should tell him my feelings about his publication’s name, and did.
I can’t help but see similarities between the choice he made — to brand his product with the f-word — and the alleged actions of TV station he was investigating. Both probably thought they were making wise business decisions in today’s information marketplace.
But both sacrificed credibility in the process.
Leaders, don’t sacrifice yours.
