As journalists, we dictate what topics are on the minds and lips of our readers. We plastered our radios, Web sites and news sections of papers with word on Anna Nicole Smith’s death. Watergate caused people to be acutely aware of political scandal. We gave credence to the threat of a possible influenza pandemic, and we also discussed performance-enhancing drug use within our athletes.
There is a fine balance to find between giving people what they want vs. giving people what they need. Much of the news Americans ingest comes in the form of infotainment, at the loss of critical context and information on other more serious, life-changing topics. We as journalists give them that information because that is what the public wants; that is what sells our newspapers, magazines and commercial spots.
On Wednesday, ESPN.com highlighted NCAA women’s basketball when the second round of the Tournament was completed. Maryland, the defending national champion, was eliminated. That was news. But unless there is a scandal, or Oklahoma’s Courtney Paris breaks her leg, women’s basketball, or women’s sports in general, will not see the same press exposure as men’s sports.
I never saw myself as a champion for women’s sports and certainly not women’s basketball. I was in love with boy’s basketball. I didn’t even like girl’s basketball, and I played it growing up. But then I had a chance to cover the sport, and I saw things that made me change my mind and become increasingly more passionate about a game I already loved, only this time, played by females.
I can understand how people would not respect women’s sports. But that doesn’t mean I agree with that fact or have to allow others to complacently continue in their thinking.
A journalist’s job is to give people enough information to make informed choices. Our stories should reflect not only what people are talking about, but also what they should be talking about. By holding on to the status quo of promoting male sports over female sports, we are hurting no one but those that come after us.
I could go into all of the injustices done against women in history, but I won’t. We haven’t even had a hundred years of voting to our names yet. Every time journalists place women’s basketball at the bottom of an inside page, we uphold the historical barriers that have been placed on women as the weaker sex. And it’s not just basketball, it’s all women’s sports.
Then you have low-revenue sports. Lacrosse. Rugby. Gymnastics. They aren’t considered the norm for American sports, so how can they deserve space on page one? The sports aren’t riddled with high-profile athletes or deep-pocketed sponsors. Again, we perpetuate stereotypes and prevent these sports from possibly becoming high-profile because of our media coverage decisions.
In the 1970s, NASCAR founder Bill France wanted more media coverage for his races and for the sport. Autosports were a hard sell to traditional fans of stick-and-ball sports. But as the sport began to grow in fan base, television networks responded by broadcasting portions of races, and maybe a few highlights on newscasts. But in 1979, France and CBS reached an agreement to broadcast the entire Daytona 500. The race garnered one of the highest ratings in television history when the former lap leaders got into a brawl on the front straightaway after crashing into one another. That fight was watched by millions and then stuck on the front pages of newspapers across the country.
And look at NASCAR now.
People really do read into what we write and how we write it. It especially makes a difference where we place it on a page. What does this mean for our objectivity? Just because we place high school girls tennis as a sports centerpiece, doesn’t mean we like that sport more than another. It simply tells our readers that we feel it is worthy of a first-glance. We can’t make people read stories about teams they don’t want to read about. But if a subscriber finds the WNBA’s New York Liberty front and center, time and again, it might give that reader a reason to read. And that’s what my job is all about.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Giving a Voice to the Voiceless
As journalists, we have a very important role, which is to set the news agenda for the public. In other words, we’re an informer.
As an informer, we’re expected to provide the news of the day to our audiences. We’re supposed to investigate and be a watchdog. But we also need to give a voice to the voiceless.
We are required to expose the injustices of society- whether they occur in our backyards or halfway across the world. But in the fast-paced world we live in, how do we make time to expose the injustices halfway across the world? How do we convince our new outlets that it serves a highly important cause? How do we find room in the budget to research and report these stories? But most of all- how do we get our audiences to care about the injustices halfway across the world?
Most people living in the U.S. don’t care about things happening outside of their community, not to mention outside of their country or continent. But I think that’s where we- the journalists- come in. We are supposed to make them care. We are expected to find a way to make them care. Because after all, it’s for the good of humanity.
New York Times columnist Nicholas Kristof has devoted his time and work to exposing the atrocities in Darfur. He brought the Darfur genocide to the forefront of media attention and governmental pressure. Nichols Kristof began writing about the violence in Darfur in 2003 when almost no other media, non-governmental organization, or governmental agency spoke the word Darfur, let alone genocide. He described the Janjaweed’s tactics of destroying Darfur villages. The Janjaweed’s main strategy was to ensure that the village would be forever uninhabitable so they poisoned wells by stuffing them with corpses of people and donkeys.
Kristof also has heavily criticized Bush and Kofi Annan’s efforts in the Darfur genocide.
I hate to say it, but the way things are going, when he dies his obituary will begin: “Kofi Annan, the former U.N.
secretary general who at various points in his career presided ineffectually over the failure to stop genocide, first in
Rwanda and then in Sudan, died today.”
Kristof also suggests the U.S. should stop the Sudan government from using its aircraft to terrorize civilians by imposing a no-fly zone, force economic sanctions on Sudan’s leaders, and push for an expanded security force in Darfur.
And Kristof has even ridiculed his own profession, the media, for not giving Darfur the coverage it needs. According to monitoring by the Tyndall Report, ABC News had a total of 18 minutes of the Darfur genocide in its nightly news in 2004, NBC News had only 5 minutes and CBS only 3, which is about a minute of coverage for every 300,000 deaths. In contrast, Martha Stewart received 130 minutes of coverage by the three networks. In 2005, ABC had 11 minutes about Darfur, NBC had 5, and CBS only had 2. In contrast, the networks gave the Michael Jackson trial in 2005 a total of 84 minutes of coverage.
The media plays a significant role in agenda setting for the public. Thus, if the media gives more priority to the sex, cheating, and drugs associated with movie stars than Darfur, the public is never going to be convinced that Darfur is something worth caring about. Nicholas Kristof has made a commitment to informing the American public of the Darfur genocide in hopes that someone- anyone will stand up and try to do something before it’s too late.
Nicholas Kristof, “Dare We Call It Genocide?” The New York Times, (June 16, 2004)
Nicholos Kristof, “Reign of Terror”, The New York Times, (September 11, 2004)
Nichols Kristof, “All Ears for Tom Cruise, All Eyes on Brad Pitt”, The New York Times, (July 26, 2005).
Nicholos Kristof, “Helping Bill O’Reilly”, The New York Times, (February 7, 2006)
As an informer, we’re expected to provide the news of the day to our audiences. We’re supposed to investigate and be a watchdog. But we also need to give a voice to the voiceless.
We are required to expose the injustices of society- whether they occur in our backyards or halfway across the world. But in the fast-paced world we live in, how do we make time to expose the injustices halfway across the world? How do we convince our new outlets that it serves a highly important cause? How do we find room in the budget to research and report these stories? But most of all- how do we get our audiences to care about the injustices halfway across the world?
Most people living in the U.S. don’t care about things happening outside of their community, not to mention outside of their country or continent. But I think that’s where we- the journalists- come in. We are supposed to make them care. We are expected to find a way to make them care. Because after all, it’s for the good of humanity.
New York Times columnist Nicholas Kristof has devoted his time and work to exposing the atrocities in Darfur. He brought the Darfur genocide to the forefront of media attention and governmental pressure. Nichols Kristof began writing about the violence in Darfur in 2003 when almost no other media, non-governmental organization, or governmental agency spoke the word Darfur, let alone genocide. He described the Janjaweed’s tactics of destroying Darfur villages. The Janjaweed’s main strategy was to ensure that the village would be forever uninhabitable so they poisoned wells by stuffing them with corpses of people and donkeys.
Kristof also has heavily criticized Bush and Kofi Annan’s efforts in the Darfur genocide.
I hate to say it, but the way things are going, when he dies his obituary will begin: “Kofi Annan, the former U.N.
secretary general who at various points in his career presided ineffectually over the failure to stop genocide, first in
Rwanda and then in Sudan, died today.”
Kristof also suggests the U.S. should stop the Sudan government from using its aircraft to terrorize civilians by imposing a no-fly zone, force economic sanctions on Sudan’s leaders, and push for an expanded security force in Darfur.
And Kristof has even ridiculed his own profession, the media, for not giving Darfur the coverage it needs. According to monitoring by the Tyndall Report, ABC News had a total of 18 minutes of the Darfur genocide in its nightly news in 2004, NBC News had only 5 minutes and CBS only 3, which is about a minute of coverage for every 300,000 deaths. In contrast, Martha Stewart received 130 minutes of coverage by the three networks. In 2005, ABC had 11 minutes about Darfur, NBC had 5, and CBS only had 2. In contrast, the networks gave the Michael Jackson trial in 2005 a total of 84 minutes of coverage.
The media plays a significant role in agenda setting for the public. Thus, if the media gives more priority to the sex, cheating, and drugs associated with movie stars than Darfur, the public is never going to be convinced that Darfur is something worth caring about. Nicholas Kristof has made a commitment to informing the American public of the Darfur genocide in hopes that someone- anyone will stand up and try to do something before it’s too late.
Nicholas Kristof, “Dare We Call It Genocide?” The New York Times, (June 16, 2004)
Nicholos Kristof, “Reign of Terror”, The New York Times, (September 11, 2004)
Nichols Kristof, “All Ears for Tom Cruise, All Eyes on Brad Pitt”, The New York Times, (July 26, 2005).
Nicholos Kristof, “Helping Bill O’Reilly”, The New York Times, (February 7, 2006)
A minority stance
I believe that a journalist’s credibility is the most important attribute for us to protect. If we don’t work to ensure our work is credible to the public, to the highest degree possible, the news industry is worthless and will eventually die.
The message on the blackboard on Wednesday read, “We are the arms dealers in the war of words.” When the trust to be the public’s voice is questioned or distrusted, we will have lost the war.
The widely held belief that “anyone can be a journalist,” only belittles the credibility that those of us with extensive news training have earned. In this sense, I am for requiring journalists to be licensed and/or credentialed. We should be held to higher standard than CNN I-Report or the millions of bloggers.
I don’t mean to say that there aren’t quality journalists out there who aren’t journalism school trained. Peter Jennings didn’t even graduate high school and he was one of the most trusted newscasters of our time. But, when a profession is based on credibility I want to be able to show the public how much I have put into being a trusted voice. And if that means being held accountable to a “News Council” when journalism codes are broken, I’m still for it. We scrutinize other professions’ job performance, why are we any different?
Doctors, lawyers, and even teachers need to be certified and that is why their expertise is rarely if at all questioned. I want to have the best doctor operate on me just like I want to trust the journalist who covers the White House. People like Jason Leopold, Jason Blair, and other unethical journalists make up just a tiny percentage of journalists, but their reputations create a cloud that covers the rest of us. Credentialing and de-credentialing journalists will help put up a much needed wall between those to be trusted and those that don’t deserve that respect.
We are granted an unbelievable privilege in this country. Journalists are the gatekeepers of the public interest, we create knowledgeable citizens; we analyze institutions, and hold those in power accountable.
I’m not a big fan of clichés, but one seems to work here: “To whom much is given, much shall be expected.”
Professor Steffens asked if journalists are more equal to others. In the sense of the responsibility we are granted, the access we need and enjoy and the forums we use to disseminate news, frankly, we are more equal. We should be held to lofty standards.
Journalists are also chosen to award our society’s highest honors in entertainment, athletic achievement, and journalistic success amongst other prestigious awards. Only those that are trained in the science of objectivity should be allowed to make these decisions that can make or break a career or even determine who can earn incredible amounts of money. And when the MVP of the National League or the Academy Award is being announced, I want the San Francisco Chronicle’s baseball beat writer and the Los Angeles Times’ movie critic to have voted, not the basement blogger on MLB Gamecast or voters on imdb.com.
Whether it be a 3x5 card that fits in my wallet, a diploma that I can frame for my office wall or just a passing grade on a credential exam, I want it, and I think the industry would be better off.
The message on the blackboard on Wednesday read, “We are the arms dealers in the war of words.” When the trust to be the public’s voice is questioned or distrusted, we will have lost the war.
The widely held belief that “anyone can be a journalist,” only belittles the credibility that those of us with extensive news training have earned. In this sense, I am for requiring journalists to be licensed and/or credentialed. We should be held to higher standard than CNN I-Report or the millions of bloggers.
I don’t mean to say that there aren’t quality journalists out there who aren’t journalism school trained. Peter Jennings didn’t even graduate high school and he was one of the most trusted newscasters of our time. But, when a profession is based on credibility I want to be able to show the public how much I have put into being a trusted voice. And if that means being held accountable to a “News Council” when journalism codes are broken, I’m still for it. We scrutinize other professions’ job performance, why are we any different?
Doctors, lawyers, and even teachers need to be certified and that is why their expertise is rarely if at all questioned. I want to have the best doctor operate on me just like I want to trust the journalist who covers the White House. People like Jason Leopold, Jason Blair, and other unethical journalists make up just a tiny percentage of journalists, but their reputations create a cloud that covers the rest of us. Credentialing and de-credentialing journalists will help put up a much needed wall between those to be trusted and those that don’t deserve that respect.
We are granted an unbelievable privilege in this country. Journalists are the gatekeepers of the public interest, we create knowledgeable citizens; we analyze institutions, and hold those in power accountable.
I’m not a big fan of clichés, but one seems to work here: “To whom much is given, much shall be expected.”
Professor Steffens asked if journalists are more equal to others. In the sense of the responsibility we are granted, the access we need and enjoy and the forums we use to disseminate news, frankly, we are more equal. We should be held to lofty standards.
Journalists are also chosen to award our society’s highest honors in entertainment, athletic achievement, and journalistic success amongst other prestigious awards. Only those that are trained in the science of objectivity should be allowed to make these decisions that can make or break a career or even determine who can earn incredible amounts of money. And when the MVP of the National League or the Academy Award is being announced, I want the San Francisco Chronicle’s baseball beat writer and the Los Angeles Times’ movie critic to have voted, not the basement blogger on MLB Gamecast or voters on imdb.com.
Whether it be a 3x5 card that fits in my wallet, a diploma that I can frame for my office wall or just a passing grade on a credential exam, I want it, and I think the industry would be better off.
Regaining the public trust
It’s no real news that public trust in the media is declining. That’s a notion that has been around since the mid-1950s. It’s also something that constantly confronts journalists – just last weekend, the Missourian received countless e-mails about a “Belief in Brief” article on L. Ron Hubbard and scientology, with the stereotypical complaint that journalists often mischaracterize information or report on their own conceptions. This response was to a section of the article concerning the controversy revolving scientology and Hubbard.
Members of the media have a hard time at combating this image. We consider ourselves to be professional, but we have no license, testing or competency requirements, other than requirements set by our employers. I don’t believe we need to be licensed – fear of losing one’s license may keep reporters from uncovering the truth. However, journalists do need to have a check on their power – a sort of watchdog for the watchdog.
Enter news councils. In the industry, news councils are defined as “independent, independent, nonprofit organizations that promote trusted journalism by investigating accuracy and fairness complaints against news outlets.” It is the role of a news council to determine facts involved in the dispute and provide forums for the citizens and journalists to discuss media ethics, standards and performance. (http://www.knightfdn.org/default.asp?story=news_at_knight/releases/2006/2006_06_28_newscouncils.html)
The Minnesota News Council was formed in 1970 when the Minnesota Newspaper Association realized this declining trust in the media. (www.news-council.org) It was set up to have 24 voting members – 12 journalists and 12 mainstream – plus a sitting justice of the state Supreme Court who would serve as chairperson at hearings to determine if there was any wrongdoing on the journalists’ part and whether he or she should be sanctioned for their writing. There is an area on the Web site to fill out a complaint about state and national newspapers and news stations, and the site states that most complaints do not involve a public hearing. According to the site:
Since 1971 the Minnesota News Council has received more than 1,680 complaints, 142 of which were adjudicated through our hearing process. Of these grievances, about half have been upheld and half have been rejected.
However, the industry isn’t openly embracing news councils. The one in Minnesota is one of only a handful. However, they are being encouraged. In July 2006, the Minnesota and Washington News Councils announced that Southern California and New England had won a national competition to create news councils. (www.knightfdn.org)
News councils aren’t necessary – that’s something Gary Gilson, director of the Minnesota News Council, wrote in a 2004 article. (http://news-council.org/archives/04gg.html) However, he writes that it is a good thing to help build public trust. In light of fabrications and failed attributions such as Jayson Blair and Rick Bragg, news councils help restore some of that trust, though.
All in all, I think news councils are a good idea in theory. It gets the public involved in journalism by showing them they do have a voice if they believe they have been wronged and teaches them more about the processes, standards and ethics of the profession. The public sanction that could occur definitely keeps journalists and their employers in check. However, it seems that news councils bring about quite a few slippery slopes. How do you determine who is a journalist? We’ve had several conversations in class over whether bloggers should qualify. Will a sanction actually hurt them? And if they aren’t considered a journalist, their case shouldn’t even have standing in the news council.
Will news councils be a part of the future of journalism? I think they will remain, but play a small role. For the most part, news organizations will listen to reader complaints and get to the bottom of the problem. And we’ve seen in cases such as that with Jayson Blair and The New York Times that the newspapers work to be transparent and right the wrong. News councils can play a role in winning the public trust. But I think newspapers and organizations can do the same thing.
Members of the media have a hard time at combating this image. We consider ourselves to be professional, but we have no license, testing or competency requirements, other than requirements set by our employers. I don’t believe we need to be licensed – fear of losing one’s license may keep reporters from uncovering the truth. However, journalists do need to have a check on their power – a sort of watchdog for the watchdog.
Enter news councils. In the industry, news councils are defined as “independent, independent, nonprofit organizations that promote trusted journalism by investigating accuracy and fairness complaints against news outlets.” It is the role of a news council to determine facts involved in the dispute and provide forums for the citizens and journalists to discuss media ethics, standards and performance. (http://www.knightfdn.org/default.asp?story=news_at_knight/releases/2006/2006_06_28_newscouncils.html)
The Minnesota News Council was formed in 1970 when the Minnesota Newspaper Association realized this declining trust in the media. (www.news-council.org) It was set up to have 24 voting members – 12 journalists and 12 mainstream – plus a sitting justice of the state Supreme Court who would serve as chairperson at hearings to determine if there was any wrongdoing on the journalists’ part and whether he or she should be sanctioned for their writing. There is an area on the Web site to fill out a complaint about state and national newspapers and news stations, and the site states that most complaints do not involve a public hearing. According to the site:
Since 1971 the Minnesota News Council has received more than 1,680 complaints, 142 of which were adjudicated through our hearing process. Of these grievances, about half have been upheld and half have been rejected.
However, the industry isn’t openly embracing news councils. The one in Minnesota is one of only a handful. However, they are being encouraged. In July 2006, the Minnesota and Washington News Councils announced that Southern California and New England had won a national competition to create news councils. (www.knightfdn.org)
News councils aren’t necessary – that’s something Gary Gilson, director of the Minnesota News Council, wrote in a 2004 article. (http://news-council.org/archives/04gg.html) However, he writes that it is a good thing to help build public trust. In light of fabrications and failed attributions such as Jayson Blair and Rick Bragg, news councils help restore some of that trust, though.
All in all, I think news councils are a good idea in theory. It gets the public involved in journalism by showing them they do have a voice if they believe they have been wronged and teaches them more about the processes, standards and ethics of the profession. The public sanction that could occur definitely keeps journalists and their employers in check. However, it seems that news councils bring about quite a few slippery slopes. How do you determine who is a journalist? We’ve had several conversations in class over whether bloggers should qualify. Will a sanction actually hurt them? And if they aren’t considered a journalist, their case shouldn’t even have standing in the news council.
Will news councils be a part of the future of journalism? I think they will remain, but play a small role. For the most part, news organizations will listen to reader complaints and get to the bottom of the problem. And we’ve seen in cases such as that with Jayson Blair and The New York Times that the newspapers work to be transparent and right the wrong. News councils can play a role in winning the public trust. But I think newspapers and organizations can do the same thing.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
To Vote or Not to Vote
Journalists should be covering news, not making it. However, the minute the sports writer casts his vote for an end of the season award, a pre-season poll or any other ranking, he is directly affecting the outcome of it. He is affecting the very news that he will cover in the upcoming days.
Numerous newspapers, including the Atlanta-Journal Constitution, The New York Times, Washington Post, Baltimore Sun and the Los Angeles Times have already banned their sports reporters from casting votes for certain awards and/or polls. I argue that other publications need to follow suit.
The arguments on the other side are somewhat convincing. We’ll use baseball as an example here. Many argue that the beat writers who cover teams day in and day are the experts. They are the ones who have seen the players across the course of the season and have a great vantage point in which to compare talent. They know the statistics inside and out. Therefore, the argument is that there is no one more qualified than these “experts” to cast votes.
But is there a point in which this beat writer may lose his objectivity? Is he truly an expert on the sport, or does his allegiances lie with the team he covers? These are beat writers who, from the beginning of Spring Training until the end of pennant races and playoff games, spend a significant part of their time with the players and coaches of these teams. Therefore, is it possible for them to put aside these relationships and possibly friendships to cast an objective, non-biased vote for post-season honors? I am not convinced that it is all that easy to do so.
It is an honor to be among a select group of journalists to have the power to vote for postseason awards and rankings. But with that power comes the proclivity to abuse it. That power may be abused to feed the ego of the sports writer, or the integrity of the votes may be compromised to feed the needs and desires of specific teams and/or players. When a sportswriter casts his vote for a postseason award, he is essentially casting a vote with a multi-million dollar affect. Players have clauses in their contracts for bonuses contingent on postseason awards. Not to mention, winning an MVP Award, for example, will likely lead to more endorsements and an increase in public appearances. The bottom line: votes equal money. And when this money belongs to the player you have a strong relationship with or the team that you cover, objectivity may be compromised. There is a conflict of interest too strong to ignore.
On the other side of the coin, because the voting system is set up to make each voters’ votes public, sports writers may face criticism for their votes even if those votes have been made in an objective and honest manner. Fans - who are likely readers and a source of the newspaper’s profit – may object if the hometown writer doesn’t vote for the hometown player. Furthermore, if a player or a manager believe that he or the team should have received a high vote than you gave him, they have the power to diminish your access and the amount of information that they are willing to give you. There are too many toes that can be stepped on and too many parties with a vested interest in the votes for writers to have to jeopardize their ability to cover a team simply to exert the power to vote.
When I worked as an associate reporter for the Atlanta Braves with MLB.com last summer, I dealt with a great group of players. Well, all but one: Jorge Sosa. To put it honestly, Sosa was a pain to deal with. It never ceased to amaze me how he could speak English after a solid pitching outing, but had to silently disappear for a translator after blowing a save. He would usually never return. Members of the media dreaded having to try and waste their time trying to get information out of him, as Sosa was never willing to go out of his way for anyone in the media. Now Sosa was lucky to still be in the Majors midway through the season with the way he was allowing home runs leave the park. But imagine for a moment that he had been a star on the team. Imagine that he were, say, a star such as Barry Bonds or Albert Belle, one of those players who despised the media and who the media rolled their eyes at in return. When it comes time to vote for awards, does the media’s propensity to like certain players over others play a role in how votes are cast? As I ask myself that question, I am skeptical that it does. Going back to my example of Sosa, had he and pitcher John Smoltz been in contention for the same award and had comparable statistics, I wonder if I would be able to completely put aside my dislike for Sosa and my great relationship with Smoltz and vote objectively. I wonder if maybe the unparallel access that some use to justify the beat writers voting may actually be the source of an unjust bias.
If you take away the writers, then who should vote? I argue why not the baseball fraternity itself? Have current members of the Hall of Fame vote on new members. Who should be a better judge of talent than those who are among the game’s elite of all times. And as for postseason awards, I argue that managers should be the ones to cast the votes. Some will argue that managers have an even stronger alliance to a team than do writers; however, I don’t see this as getting in the way of their objectivity. You see coaches voting in NCAA football and basketball polls all the time. And if you were to compare these coaches polls with corresponding AP polls, you won’t find many discrepancies. If college coaches can put aside their allegiance and vote objectively when recruiting and postseason tournaments or games are at stake, then I argue, so can Major League Baseball managers.
In a 2005 column in which San Diego Union-Tribune sports columnist Tim Sullivan wrote about his decision to abstain from using his voting privileges, he brings up another risk writers now face. Because we are in the midst of a steroid era in which certain players and records are under scrutiny because of the possibility of performance enhancing drugs, a writer’s decision on whether or not to vote for Mark McGwire on the Hall of Fame ballot or for Barry Bonds on the MVP ballot is putting that writer in a position to make a judgment on whether or not McGwire, Bonds and others used performance-enhancing drugs. Sullivan writes: “Neither should I accept the responsibility of deciding whether Mark McGwire is still entitled to the presumption of innocence following his clumsy evasions before Congress…Better to recuse [sic] oneself than to render a judgment based on unsubstantiated suspicion. Better to stick to the sidelines than to get in a game in which you never really belonged.”
There are too many risks to credibility and too many traps set to eliminate objectivity for sports editors from newspapers to allow their writers to continue voting for awards. This may mean shaking an institution and a tradition that has been in place since the mid-20th century; however, in doing so, sports writers may gain much more than the power they may feel that they are losing. Randy Harvey, the sports editor of the Baltimore Sun, justified his decision to ban his writers from voting with this humorous, yet thought-provoking analogy: “You know, I wouldn't want baseball players voting on the Pulitzer Prize winners, so I'm not sure why we should be voting on baseball awards.”
Sources:
“Most Valuable Sayers” http://www.onthemedia.org /transcripts/2005/11/18/08
“Voting for baseball honors, ‘Ron Mexico’ test ethics of sports coverage.” http://talkingbaseball.wordpress.com/2005/12/20/voting-for-baseball-honors-ron-mexico-test-ethics-of-sports-coverage/
Numerous newspapers, including the Atlanta-Journal Constitution, The New York Times, Washington Post, Baltimore Sun and the Los Angeles Times have already banned their sports reporters from casting votes for certain awards and/or polls. I argue that other publications need to follow suit.
The arguments on the other side are somewhat convincing. We’ll use baseball as an example here. Many argue that the beat writers who cover teams day in and day are the experts. They are the ones who have seen the players across the course of the season and have a great vantage point in which to compare talent. They know the statistics inside and out. Therefore, the argument is that there is no one more qualified than these “experts” to cast votes.
But is there a point in which this beat writer may lose his objectivity? Is he truly an expert on the sport, or does his allegiances lie with the team he covers? These are beat writers who, from the beginning of Spring Training until the end of pennant races and playoff games, spend a significant part of their time with the players and coaches of these teams. Therefore, is it possible for them to put aside these relationships and possibly friendships to cast an objective, non-biased vote for post-season honors? I am not convinced that it is all that easy to do so.
It is an honor to be among a select group of journalists to have the power to vote for postseason awards and rankings. But with that power comes the proclivity to abuse it. That power may be abused to feed the ego of the sports writer, or the integrity of the votes may be compromised to feed the needs and desires of specific teams and/or players. When a sportswriter casts his vote for a postseason award, he is essentially casting a vote with a multi-million dollar affect. Players have clauses in their contracts for bonuses contingent on postseason awards. Not to mention, winning an MVP Award, for example, will likely lead to more endorsements and an increase in public appearances. The bottom line: votes equal money. And when this money belongs to the player you have a strong relationship with or the team that you cover, objectivity may be compromised. There is a conflict of interest too strong to ignore.
On the other side of the coin, because the voting system is set up to make each voters’ votes public, sports writers may face criticism for their votes even if those votes have been made in an objective and honest manner. Fans - who are likely readers and a source of the newspaper’s profit – may object if the hometown writer doesn’t vote for the hometown player. Furthermore, if a player or a manager believe that he or the team should have received a high vote than you gave him, they have the power to diminish your access and the amount of information that they are willing to give you. There are too many toes that can be stepped on and too many parties with a vested interest in the votes for writers to have to jeopardize their ability to cover a team simply to exert the power to vote.
When I worked as an associate reporter for the Atlanta Braves with MLB.com last summer, I dealt with a great group of players. Well, all but one: Jorge Sosa. To put it honestly, Sosa was a pain to deal with. It never ceased to amaze me how he could speak English after a solid pitching outing, but had to silently disappear for a translator after blowing a save. He would usually never return. Members of the media dreaded having to try and waste their time trying to get information out of him, as Sosa was never willing to go out of his way for anyone in the media. Now Sosa was lucky to still be in the Majors midway through the season with the way he was allowing home runs leave the park. But imagine for a moment that he had been a star on the team. Imagine that he were, say, a star such as Barry Bonds or Albert Belle, one of those players who despised the media and who the media rolled their eyes at in return. When it comes time to vote for awards, does the media’s propensity to like certain players over others play a role in how votes are cast? As I ask myself that question, I am skeptical that it does. Going back to my example of Sosa, had he and pitcher John Smoltz been in contention for the same award and had comparable statistics, I wonder if I would be able to completely put aside my dislike for Sosa and my great relationship with Smoltz and vote objectively. I wonder if maybe the unparallel access that some use to justify the beat writers voting may actually be the source of an unjust bias.
If you take away the writers, then who should vote? I argue why not the baseball fraternity itself? Have current members of the Hall of Fame vote on new members. Who should be a better judge of talent than those who are among the game’s elite of all times. And as for postseason awards, I argue that managers should be the ones to cast the votes. Some will argue that managers have an even stronger alliance to a team than do writers; however, I don’t see this as getting in the way of their objectivity. You see coaches voting in NCAA football and basketball polls all the time. And if you were to compare these coaches polls with corresponding AP polls, you won’t find many discrepancies. If college coaches can put aside their allegiance and vote objectively when recruiting and postseason tournaments or games are at stake, then I argue, so can Major League Baseball managers.
In a 2005 column in which San Diego Union-Tribune sports columnist Tim Sullivan wrote about his decision to abstain from using his voting privileges, he brings up another risk writers now face. Because we are in the midst of a steroid era in which certain players and records are under scrutiny because of the possibility of performance enhancing drugs, a writer’s decision on whether or not to vote for Mark McGwire on the Hall of Fame ballot or for Barry Bonds on the MVP ballot is putting that writer in a position to make a judgment on whether or not McGwire, Bonds and others used performance-enhancing drugs. Sullivan writes: “Neither should I accept the responsibility of deciding whether Mark McGwire is still entitled to the presumption of innocence following his clumsy evasions before Congress…Better to recuse [sic] oneself than to render a judgment based on unsubstantiated suspicion. Better to stick to the sidelines than to get in a game in which you never really belonged.”
There are too many risks to credibility and too many traps set to eliminate objectivity for sports editors from newspapers to allow their writers to continue voting for awards. This may mean shaking an institution and a tradition that has been in place since the mid-20th century; however, in doing so, sports writers may gain much more than the power they may feel that they are losing. Randy Harvey, the sports editor of the Baltimore Sun, justified his decision to ban his writers from voting with this humorous, yet thought-provoking analogy: “You know, I wouldn't want baseball players voting on the Pulitzer Prize winners, so I'm not sure why we should be voting on baseball awards.”
Sources:
“Most Valuable Sayers” http://www.onthemedia.org /transcripts/2005/11/18/08
“Voting for baseball honors, ‘Ron Mexico’ test ethics of sports coverage.” http://talkingbaseball.wordpress.com/2005/12/20/voting-for-baseball-honors-ron-mexico-test-ethics-of-sports-coverage/
The journalist's silver spoon
When Prof. Steffens asked in class today “Are we more equal than others because we’re journalists?” my knee-jerk answer was
“Heck yes. I just spend a lot of money on this degree, and it better count for something.”
Wow. I know. It sounds elitist and snobby, right?
I’ve always imagined that old-school journalists were blue-collar guys who wore fedoras with press badges in them. They rolled up their shirt, smoked the strongest cigarettes, drank the blackest coffee, and didn’t have a college education. And because they were the Everyman, they had their pulse on what the people really wanted. They had it out for the elites, which is, I think, one of the great things about journalism. (Just watch the movie Newsies.) This is what drew me to journalism. (Plus, I really wanted a fedora.)
But when I got to college, I was reading Chaucer and Aristotle, having conversations debating the existence of God, and writing words like "usurp." Not exactly the dingy, earthy newsroom I expected.
I don’t believe that journalists are the aristocracy for the people. I think they’ve become just plain aristocracy.
In two months, I’ll be a college-educated woman. I come from a college-educated family. But most of the country doesn’t. The American Association of University Women says that in 2003, only 25 percent of Americans had a college degree.
I think that many of us would agree that we come from semi-privileged backgrounds, at least. And while my salary won’t show it when I graduate, there’s a lot of room for high-paying jobs in the business. So when we, as privileged, college-educated journalists set the agenda, are we setting one that really matters to Everyman?
I’m not so sure anymore. Maybe that accounts for the decline in readership. Maybe that’s why Dan Rather said in a speech on March 12 to South by Southwest Interactive that “journalism has lost its guts,” and “more journalists have become lapdogs instead of watchdogs.” Maybe we, as human beings and as journalists, just have a tendency to empathize with people who are more like us—the powerful interviewing the powerful, as Prof. Steffens said.
As I finish writing this, I realize it’s pretty gloomy. But it doesn’t have to be this way. I think we can still write for the Everyman, and maybe civic journalism is the answer—not so that journalists can loose power, but so that the people can gain it.
“Heck yes. I just spend a lot of money on this degree, and it better count for something.”
Wow. I know. It sounds elitist and snobby, right?
I’ve always imagined that old-school journalists were blue-collar guys who wore fedoras with press badges in them. They rolled up their shirt, smoked the strongest cigarettes, drank the blackest coffee, and didn’t have a college education. And because they were the Everyman, they had their pulse on what the people really wanted. They had it out for the elites, which is, I think, one of the great things about journalism. (Just watch the movie Newsies.) This is what drew me to journalism. (Plus, I really wanted a fedora.)
But when I got to college, I was reading Chaucer and Aristotle, having conversations debating the existence of God, and writing words like "usurp." Not exactly the dingy, earthy newsroom I expected.
I don’t believe that journalists are the aristocracy for the people. I think they’ve become just plain aristocracy.
In two months, I’ll be a college-educated woman. I come from a college-educated family. But most of the country doesn’t. The American Association of University Women says that in 2003, only 25 percent of Americans had a college degree.
I think that many of us would agree that we come from semi-privileged backgrounds, at least. And while my salary won’t show it when I graduate, there’s a lot of room for high-paying jobs in the business. So when we, as privileged, college-educated journalists set the agenda, are we setting one that really matters to Everyman?
I’m not so sure anymore. Maybe that accounts for the decline in readership. Maybe that’s why Dan Rather said in a speech on March 12 to South by Southwest Interactive that “journalism has lost its guts,” and “more journalists have become lapdogs instead of watchdogs.” Maybe we, as human beings and as journalists, just have a tendency to empathize with people who are more like us—the powerful interviewing the powerful, as Prof. Steffens said.
As I finish writing this, I realize it’s pretty gloomy. But it doesn’t have to be this way. I think we can still write for the Everyman, and maybe civic journalism is the answer—not so that journalists can loose power, but so that the people can gain it.
The Golden Press Pass
In class we discussed whether journalists were “more equal” than other people and if they have earned the privilege of meeting presidents and esteemed figures.
I think it’s important to remember the role of journalists in society. In Elements of Journalism, Kovach and Rosenstiel list monitoring power and giving a voice to the voiceless as two of the responsibilities of journalists. In order for us to do that, we need to have access to places and people that are not accessible to the average person. This is not saying that journalists are above average. It means that we represent the average person.
I think giving a voice to the voiceless is the most important role a journalist plays in society. Not everyone has the opportunity to fly to Baghdad and see the war.
Journalists bring the war into people’s living rooms. How else would a person living in Columbia’s First Ward learn the differences between two candidates? Most people are not willing to or do not have the time to sift through information and get stories for themselves. Journalists go out, experience the story and bring it back. We aren’t aristocracy, we’re liaisons. We can’t provide information without access to whom the information is about.
An example of journalists giving voices to the voiceless is the Missourian’s coverage of the last election. The reporters served as representatives and when asking a question phrased it, “Jackie Smith from the Third Ward wants to know….” This is also known as civic journalism.
Also, we need the special access to monitor power. If the elites are the only ones with access to meetings and hearings, or they didn’t have a physical person interrogating them, we’d be in trouble.
As journalists you get to see things you would never have the chance to otherwise. I think that is what draws some people in. I do NOT think most newspaper journalists go to school so they can be famous. If they did, they should try Hollywood or politics. I decided I wanted to be a journalist because I love to learn. When I do a story I want to learn everything there is to know about that subject. I find it fascinating. I also wanted to save the world, of course. I have a strong distaste for injustice and decided journalism was the best way to fight it, or at least, tell everyone about it.
I thought the discussion in class on this topic was rather negative, like journalists don’t deserve the access. I disagree. I’ve worked hard in journalism school and I take my job seriously. I’d like to think that the citizens of wherever I work will trust me enough to know that I don’t take that access for granted, yes, I earned it, but it has also been grated to me by the people.
I think it’s important to remember the role of journalists in society. In Elements of Journalism, Kovach and Rosenstiel list monitoring power and giving a voice to the voiceless as two of the responsibilities of journalists. In order for us to do that, we need to have access to places and people that are not accessible to the average person. This is not saying that journalists are above average. It means that we represent the average person.
I think giving a voice to the voiceless is the most important role a journalist plays in society. Not everyone has the opportunity to fly to Baghdad and see the war.
Journalists bring the war into people’s living rooms. How else would a person living in Columbia’s First Ward learn the differences between two candidates? Most people are not willing to or do not have the time to sift through information and get stories for themselves. Journalists go out, experience the story and bring it back. We aren’t aristocracy, we’re liaisons. We can’t provide information without access to whom the information is about.
An example of journalists giving voices to the voiceless is the Missourian’s coverage of the last election. The reporters served as representatives and when asking a question phrased it, “Jackie Smith from the Third Ward wants to know….” This is also known as civic journalism.
Also, we need the special access to monitor power. If the elites are the only ones with access to meetings and hearings, or they didn’t have a physical person interrogating them, we’d be in trouble.
As journalists you get to see things you would never have the chance to otherwise. I think that is what draws some people in. I do NOT think most newspaper journalists go to school so they can be famous. If they did, they should try Hollywood or politics. I decided I wanted to be a journalist because I love to learn. When I do a story I want to learn everything there is to know about that subject. I find it fascinating. I also wanted to save the world, of course. I have a strong distaste for injustice and decided journalism was the best way to fight it, or at least, tell everyone about it.
I thought the discussion in class on this topic was rather negative, like journalists don’t deserve the access. I disagree. I’ve worked hard in journalism school and I take my job seriously. I’d like to think that the citizens of wherever I work will trust me enough to know that I don’t take that access for granted, yes, I earned it, but it has also been grated to me by the people.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Fencing in the watchdog
Accountability – all journalists strive to hold leaders accountable. In fact, in our recent class discussion, it was this watchdog role that won out as the premier purpose of journalism. But as the public confidence in news organizations declines, to whom do wayward journalists answer? To whom are mistaken journalists accountable?
One possibility lies with news councils. These independent organizations hear and investigate complaints of unfair and inaccurate reporting. While they often cannot sanction, typically they make public statements of their findings. Such statements are newsworthy by nature and the thinking is that public denouncements are punishment enough (Silha). Currently, news councils are popular in Europe and Canada, but in the United States, only Minnesota and Washington states have implemented them. Much of news councils’ unpopularity in the U.S. has to do with their historical failure. The National News Council, the short-lived U.S. experiment, died out from lack of support and participation (Boeyink).
On the surface, the arguments for such a council are compelling. It would offer more effectual accountability. Journalists would have to answer to waning public trust and disgruntled sources. The Jason Leopolds of the industry would no longer be able to so easily hop between jobs and hide from mistakes. Also, a hearing in front of a news council offers a much cheaper alternative to a libel suit. Journalists and their companies’ lawyers would no longer quake at the cost of a lawsuit – even a winning one (Jenkins). Furthermore, the industry is changing – journalists are becoming better educated and better paid. Their personal stake in the splash a story makes is higher than ever. (Jenkins) A news council can hold the reckless individuals to industry and public standards.
However, I would argue that the impracticality, lack of support and deterring effect of news councils outweighs their possible contributions to journalism. As the industry changes rapidly with technology, the identity of a journalist becomes increasingly nebulous. Who now, will these councils hold accountable as bloggers and citizen journalists chime in? But the practical questions only begin there. The largesse of such councils, if implemented nationwide, would be excessive. There would be a professional bureaucracy of news moniters, an unnecessary venture and one that may invite its own corruption and biases. (Jenkins)
The support for such councils is mixed among journalism professionals. Unfortunately, such councils cannot survive with sparse and sporadic participation. The National News Council failed because some of the major organizations refused to play (Boeyink). These nonparticipants, such as the New York Times, have not changed their positions since, saying it’s part of their job to uphold industry standards. A news council cannot survive without the major players’ cooperation. Since that seems unlikely, forming a council would be in vain.
The more theoretical concern with news councils lies with the potential “chilling” of investigative journalism and the inability of the councils to address modern journalism’s failures. Many journalists think the regulation by councils which are partially outside the industry, its training and its challenges constitutes a slippery slope. They fear the stringent regulation that has historically challenged free and independent journalism. Independence is high on journalistic values and responsibility to an outside bureaucracy seems to injure that principle. Also, as pundits and infotainment capture and alienate audiences, news councils stand powerless to affect necessary change (Jenkins). While basic locality and institutional coverage wane, how will news councils provide an answer? In short, they can’t.
Superficially, news councils seem to apply accountability – that journalistic favorite – to the industry. But the implications of such councils may in fact injure other journalistic fervor and principle – a large price to pay in the face of impractical organization.
Sources:
Jenkins, Evan. "News Councils: The Case For and Against." Columbia Journalism Review: March/April 1997.
Silha, Stephen. "News Councils: A Meeting Place for Communities and Their Storytellers." Christian Science Monitor: August 29, 2005.
Boeyink, David. "Public Understanding, Professional Ethics and the News: A Response to Jane Rhodes." www.law.indiana.edu/fclj/pubs/v47/nol/boeyink.html
One possibility lies with news councils. These independent organizations hear and investigate complaints of unfair and inaccurate reporting. While they often cannot sanction, typically they make public statements of their findings. Such statements are newsworthy by nature and the thinking is that public denouncements are punishment enough (Silha). Currently, news councils are popular in Europe and Canada, but in the United States, only Minnesota and Washington states have implemented them. Much of news councils’ unpopularity in the U.S. has to do with their historical failure. The National News Council, the short-lived U.S. experiment, died out from lack of support and participation (Boeyink).
On the surface, the arguments for such a council are compelling. It would offer more effectual accountability. Journalists would have to answer to waning public trust and disgruntled sources. The Jason Leopolds of the industry would no longer be able to so easily hop between jobs and hide from mistakes. Also, a hearing in front of a news council offers a much cheaper alternative to a libel suit. Journalists and their companies’ lawyers would no longer quake at the cost of a lawsuit – even a winning one (Jenkins). Furthermore, the industry is changing – journalists are becoming better educated and better paid. Their personal stake in the splash a story makes is higher than ever. (Jenkins) A news council can hold the reckless individuals to industry and public standards.
However, I would argue that the impracticality, lack of support and deterring effect of news councils outweighs their possible contributions to journalism. As the industry changes rapidly with technology, the identity of a journalist becomes increasingly nebulous. Who now, will these councils hold accountable as bloggers and citizen journalists chime in? But the practical questions only begin there. The largesse of such councils, if implemented nationwide, would be excessive. There would be a professional bureaucracy of news moniters, an unnecessary venture and one that may invite its own corruption and biases. (Jenkins)
The support for such councils is mixed among journalism professionals. Unfortunately, such councils cannot survive with sparse and sporadic participation. The National News Council failed because some of the major organizations refused to play (Boeyink). These nonparticipants, such as the New York Times, have not changed their positions since, saying it’s part of their job to uphold industry standards. A news council cannot survive without the major players’ cooperation. Since that seems unlikely, forming a council would be in vain.
The more theoretical concern with news councils lies with the potential “chilling” of investigative journalism and the inability of the councils to address modern journalism’s failures. Many journalists think the regulation by councils which are partially outside the industry, its training and its challenges constitutes a slippery slope. They fear the stringent regulation that has historically challenged free and independent journalism. Independence is high on journalistic values and responsibility to an outside bureaucracy seems to injure that principle. Also, as pundits and infotainment capture and alienate audiences, news councils stand powerless to affect necessary change (Jenkins). While basic locality and institutional coverage wane, how will news councils provide an answer? In short, they can’t.
Superficially, news councils seem to apply accountability – that journalistic favorite – to the industry. But the implications of such councils may in fact injure other journalistic fervor and principle – a large price to pay in the face of impractical organization.
Sources:
Jenkins, Evan. "News Councils: The Case For and Against." Columbia Journalism Review: March/April 1997.
Silha, Stephen. "News Councils: A Meeting Place for Communities and Their Storytellers." Christian Science Monitor: August 29, 2005.
Boeyink, David. "Public Understanding, Professional Ethics and the News: A Response to Jane Rhodes." www.law.indiana.edu/fclj/pubs/v47/nol/boeyink.html
Journalism: bearing witness to the storm
I’ve always thought I’d use journalism as the means to an end. I like to think and write and probe, and these are skills I figured I could stand to hone, no matter the career I chose later on. Interestingly, my time as a journalist in college has afforded me the opportunity to get a sneak peak, so to speak, on the profession I truly want to pursue. Recently, after interviewing the UM System’s top lobbyist, Steve Knorr, for a profile piece, I decided I almost certainly want to be a lobbyist. I had numerous meetings with Knorr and others, together and separately, to gauge what the lobbyist’s role has been in passing the Lewis and Clark Discovery Initiative, better known as the MOHELA plan. To better get at the role of a journalist, I’ve offered my recent experience with Knorr as an example.
The role of the journalist is to bear witness to the storm -- and then to make it out alive to report on it. The week and days following up to the publication date of my profile on Knorr was a whirlwind: I wasn’t done reporting until the day I was editing. Even though it made for a more difficult time in terms of getting it ready to run, I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
My meeting with Knorr up until the last minute, in addition to Sen. Chuck Graham, meant I had the most current information. With an issue such as the MOHELA plan and other time-sensitive subject, it’s important for the journalist to keep up. Otherwise, he or she seems wooden and distant. About a month ago, when I first met with Knorr and Rep. Jeff Harris, Harris’ withdrawing his support for the initiative seemed like the most important element of the MOHELA debate. Now, it seems like a mere sliver.
As a journalist, one must be in it for the long haul, willing to see all sides and, if necessary, divert from the original course of action to get a more accurate glimpse of the story.
Working with Knorr was tough. He was skeptical from the beginning, and I’m still not sure why he let me meet with him. I think he thought I seemed harmless. So, initially, I always played this up with him. I would ask questions I knew the answer to. This may seem too canny, but I believe it worked for me with him. He felt like he was guiding me along on the MOHELA plan, letting me in on what it’s like to be a lobbyist. I would argue I was let in on his world by questioning and observing him, even in a somewhat stressful circumstance. (Initially, our meeting was more staged and formal; later, it was less so.)
As a journalist, one has to be willing to play the part of the person whom he or she is interviewing. In fact, the reason I believe Knorr allowed me to report on him was that, though I was young, I seemed prepared and wouldn’t necessarily “stick out” as he was making his way around the Capitol to meet with legislators.
When we first met, he was also less consumed with MOHELA, more optimistic. A month later, he was in the middle of it and seemed more worn down. Because we had sort of built up a relationship, he let me stay "in" anyway.
As a journalist, a person also has to be sensitive of timing and the way the subject fits into the debate.
Knorr has a lot riding on getting the plan passed, including, maybe, his job. I tried to be careful with this. And because he let me “in” on his world, I felt grateful. Interestingly, my recognition of this rare access I was getting meant I felt sort of loyal to him. This wasn’t a problem, really, until I spoke with Graham. Up until the very end, no one was willing to speak openly against Knorr, no one willing to allude he might curry too much favor with the governor’s office. Even in private with Harris, Harris always spoke highly of Knorr.
Perhaps the biggest thing I’ll take from this story is that reading blogs pays off. When I began researching Knorr and his background and people’s perception of him, I stumbled across an entry on the Web site firedup.com, a sort of liberal political blog on Missouri state politics. The blog, while not really substantiated, seemed to speculate that Knorr was knee deep in the Republican Party and, it argued, too close to the governor.
Whether it is true, I don’t know. But I found a source, Graham, who was willing to say it. And I think he said it somewhat candidly because he was tired from the debate. People seem most willing to talk when they’re tired. So, that was the hook. But that didn’t happen until the day before the story ran. And although I felt “bad” about making Knorr look a little bad when he had let me profile him, I knew it had to be in there no matter what.
This, to me, is a journalist’s supreme job: to take all the elements of a story, even if initially it’s mere speculation, and break it down into something more manageable for the reader.
I’m not sure why I loved working on this story so much or why, for that matter, I used it as an example of journalists' role. Certainly, I made mistakes and still wonder if I covered everything I needed to cover in this debate.
But perhaps this experience as a journalist sticks out to me because I felt truly fascinated by what Knorr does, how much clout he has in the legislature for someone who’s largely unknown to the general public. This fascination seemed to carry me through -- and made me wish I felt this way about every story I work on.
Sources, I believe, can tell when you’re interested in who they are and how they get by in life. I would argue, then, that journalists have to feign interest, no matter how disinterested they are, in order to find the crux of a debate. And perhaps, too, journalists have to seem far removed, no matter how much he or she wants to jump in on a debate (as was my case with Knorr), so as not to seem too vested.
The role of the journalist is to bear witness to the storm -- and then to make it out alive to report on it. The week and days following up to the publication date of my profile on Knorr was a whirlwind: I wasn’t done reporting until the day I was editing. Even though it made for a more difficult time in terms of getting it ready to run, I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
My meeting with Knorr up until the last minute, in addition to Sen. Chuck Graham, meant I had the most current information. With an issue such as the MOHELA plan and other time-sensitive subject, it’s important for the journalist to keep up. Otherwise, he or she seems wooden and distant. About a month ago, when I first met with Knorr and Rep. Jeff Harris, Harris’ withdrawing his support for the initiative seemed like the most important element of the MOHELA debate. Now, it seems like a mere sliver.
As a journalist, one must be in it for the long haul, willing to see all sides and, if necessary, divert from the original course of action to get a more accurate glimpse of the story.
Working with Knorr was tough. He was skeptical from the beginning, and I’m still not sure why he let me meet with him. I think he thought I seemed harmless. So, initially, I always played this up with him. I would ask questions I knew the answer to. This may seem too canny, but I believe it worked for me with him. He felt like he was guiding me along on the MOHELA plan, letting me in on what it’s like to be a lobbyist. I would argue I was let in on his world by questioning and observing him, even in a somewhat stressful circumstance. (Initially, our meeting was more staged and formal; later, it was less so.)
As a journalist, one has to be willing to play the part of the person whom he or she is interviewing. In fact, the reason I believe Knorr allowed me to report on him was that, though I was young, I seemed prepared and wouldn’t necessarily “stick out” as he was making his way around the Capitol to meet with legislators.
When we first met, he was also less consumed with MOHELA, more optimistic. A month later, he was in the middle of it and seemed more worn down. Because we had sort of built up a relationship, he let me stay "in" anyway.
As a journalist, a person also has to be sensitive of timing and the way the subject fits into the debate.
Knorr has a lot riding on getting the plan passed, including, maybe, his job. I tried to be careful with this. And because he let me “in” on his world, I felt grateful. Interestingly, my recognition of this rare access I was getting meant I felt sort of loyal to him. This wasn’t a problem, really, until I spoke with Graham. Up until the very end, no one was willing to speak openly against Knorr, no one willing to allude he might curry too much favor with the governor’s office. Even in private with Harris, Harris always spoke highly of Knorr.
Perhaps the biggest thing I’ll take from this story is that reading blogs pays off. When I began researching Knorr and his background and people’s perception of him, I stumbled across an entry on the Web site firedup.com, a sort of liberal political blog on Missouri state politics. The blog, while not really substantiated, seemed to speculate that Knorr was knee deep in the Republican Party and, it argued, too close to the governor.
Whether it is true, I don’t know. But I found a source, Graham, who was willing to say it. And I think he said it somewhat candidly because he was tired from the debate. People seem most willing to talk when they’re tired. So, that was the hook. But that didn’t happen until the day before the story ran. And although I felt “bad” about making Knorr look a little bad when he had let me profile him, I knew it had to be in there no matter what.
This, to me, is a journalist’s supreme job: to take all the elements of a story, even if initially it’s mere speculation, and break it down into something more manageable for the reader.
I’m not sure why I loved working on this story so much or why, for that matter, I used it as an example of journalists' role. Certainly, I made mistakes and still wonder if I covered everything I needed to cover in this debate.
But perhaps this experience as a journalist sticks out to me because I felt truly fascinated by what Knorr does, how much clout he has in the legislature for someone who’s largely unknown to the general public. This fascination seemed to carry me through -- and made me wish I felt this way about every story I work on.
Sources, I believe, can tell when you’re interested in who they are and how they get by in life. I would argue, then, that journalists have to feign interest, no matter how disinterested they are, in order to find the crux of a debate. And perhaps, too, journalists have to seem far removed, no matter how much he or she wants to jump in on a debate (as was my case with Knorr), so as not to seem too vested.
Journalism and why I love role-playing
There are many different hats that journalists wear. One minute, we’re informers. The next, we’re entertainers. We’re facilitators — moderating the social conversations between officials and citizens. Then maybe we take a break for lunch. Nice pastrami on rye, some jalapeno chips, maybe even a beer if it has already been a long day. Back from lunch, we may have to put on our watchdog hat — corruption is all around us, after all. Maybe late in the day we’ll champion the voice of the unheard. I don’t know, maybe there won’t be time. The point is, depending on beat assignments, breaking news, location and myriad other elements, journalist’s roles can be a lot of different things — maybe even at the same time.
Above all, I would say journalists are informers. We’re “Johnny-on-the-spot” if you will. While this might not be the most important role journalism plays, the content that fills up most papers around the country is straight information. From the beginning, we’re told the easiest way to write up a story is by giving the who, what, when, where, why and how of a given event. Many people simply look to the paper to get this from the headlines and lead paragraphs of a story. When this happens, journalists are fulfilling their role as informers — whether the news is international, national or local is of little importance.
Moving into a role of greater importance, journalists provide a checks and balances to government, business and other institutions. Because of journalists, I think that city and public officials are held accountable for promises and practices. This also ties in with journalists’ roles as investigative watchdogs. Obviously, corrupt officials or business owners would not simply inform local news outlets of wrongdoing and, thus, journalists serve an important role as the people who dig for and unearth these stories. This is something the public clearly expects of the press, since a lot of criticism was meted out following the discovery that the Bush administration had misconstrued facts about findings in Iraq.
When it comes to issues like the War in Iraq, the Enron scandal, or high-profile court cases like the recent one of Scooter Libby, journalists must also play the role of analyst. Because of the complexities of many stories, and the fact the journalists have access to sources and documents the general public does not, it is an important for journalists to go beyond the five W’s and H to explain the multiple facets of stories. In is one thing to report the scandal surrounding Enron — it is another entirely to connect it to issues of energy privatization, its effect on the economy as a whole, the implications for the future of its employees, etc. People turn to journalists to tell them what these stories mean.
While on the topic of Enron, another important role of journalism is to provide a voice to the underprivileged and disenfranchised. Without the ability to call press conferences or access the media in the form of press releases, journalists must give the everyday person a platform for telling their story. Journalists must serve minority groups, public stockholders, laid-off employees and more.
As I was discussing the five most important roles of journalists with my group on Monday, we found it difficult to rank them, and I think this has a lot to do with what I just mentioned — journalists are often wearing multiple hats. Journalists are always acting as gatekeepers and moderators — simply by choosing to pick one story over another, importance is being communicated to an audience. Similarly, while we didn’t include entertainer in our list, journalists are nonetheless writing entertainment stories every day, and entertainment might be tied in with our role as informer. Journalism is a business constantly in flux — it changes according to societal, technological and professional developments. Because of this, journalists must be ready and willing to fulfill several roles.
Above all, I would say journalists are informers. We’re “Johnny-on-the-spot” if you will. While this might not be the most important role journalism plays, the content that fills up most papers around the country is straight information. From the beginning, we’re told the easiest way to write up a story is by giving the who, what, when, where, why and how of a given event. Many people simply look to the paper to get this from the headlines and lead paragraphs of a story. When this happens, journalists are fulfilling their role as informers — whether the news is international, national or local is of little importance.
Moving into a role of greater importance, journalists provide a checks and balances to government, business and other institutions. Because of journalists, I think that city and public officials are held accountable for promises and practices. This also ties in with journalists’ roles as investigative watchdogs. Obviously, corrupt officials or business owners would not simply inform local news outlets of wrongdoing and, thus, journalists serve an important role as the people who dig for and unearth these stories. This is something the public clearly expects of the press, since a lot of criticism was meted out following the discovery that the Bush administration had misconstrued facts about findings in Iraq.
When it comes to issues like the War in Iraq, the Enron scandal, or high-profile court cases like the recent one of Scooter Libby, journalists must also play the role of analyst. Because of the complexities of many stories, and the fact the journalists have access to sources and documents the general public does not, it is an important for journalists to go beyond the five W’s and H to explain the multiple facets of stories. In is one thing to report the scandal surrounding Enron — it is another entirely to connect it to issues of energy privatization, its effect on the economy as a whole, the implications for the future of its employees, etc. People turn to journalists to tell them what these stories mean.
While on the topic of Enron, another important role of journalism is to provide a voice to the underprivileged and disenfranchised. Without the ability to call press conferences or access the media in the form of press releases, journalists must give the everyday person a platform for telling their story. Journalists must serve minority groups, public stockholders, laid-off employees and more.
As I was discussing the five most important roles of journalists with my group on Monday, we found it difficult to rank them, and I think this has a lot to do with what I just mentioned — journalists are often wearing multiple hats. Journalists are always acting as gatekeepers and moderators — simply by choosing to pick one story over another, importance is being communicated to an audience. Similarly, while we didn’t include entertainer in our list, journalists are nonetheless writing entertainment stories every day, and entertainment might be tied in with our role as informer. Journalism is a business constantly in flux — it changes according to societal, technological and professional developments. Because of this, journalists must be ready and willing to fulfill several roles.
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