Feelings on the media in Iraq are mixed. Most of those within the field, myself included, feel like it is the media’s duty to be there. Many members of the military feel like the media, especially those embedded with their troops, are a burden. People outside the media, many U.S. viewers, have mixed reactions – feeling that the media should be there but should stay far out of the way.
The opinion of many media members is expressed well in this quote from Sig Christenson, military reporter for the San Antonio Express-News. "All we ask for is fair play," says Christenson, currently on assignment in Iraq. "It's a pretty tough place to work, and what we reporters are doing is in the great tradition of American democracy: to tell people back home what is taking place, the good and the bad. At the end of the day, Americans should be thankful."
The media is there to inform the American people about things that they cannot see with their own eyes. It’s the same purpose that the media has at home. However, when the government puts restrictions on the media it makes it difficult for them to do their jobs. The government should not be able to tell members of the media where they can and cannot go, what they can and cannot take pictures of and what they can and cannot report on. These are violations of the First Amendment and hinder the media’s main job – to inform the people.
The stories about soldiers treating members of the media badly are horrible. The soldiers should be appreciative of the media – just as the media is appreciative of the soldiers. The media is there to tell the story of the soldier and relay it to the people back home. The media is not there to paint the soldiers in a negative light, and in my opinion has not been doing so.
Average citizens have varying opinions on the role of the media in Iraq.
“It’s nice that they’re there, but they’re not soldiers,” says Kathleen Blakeney. “They’re not necessarily qualified to be over there – it’s not necessarily the safest thing. When they get abducted or become involved in combat they don’t know what to do. It’s just not safe.”
Kathleen suggested that maybe retired soldiers or other people with military or security background should be war journalists. While this is a great idea, and probably has been implemented somewhere, I don’t know that it’s necessarily feasible. If a soldier is retired, chances are he does not want to go back into a combat situation, even if it’s not as a soldier.
In my opinion, the media has a right to be in Iraq. They have a right to report on anything and everything that they see in an unbiased, but informed manner. If they are inhibited from doing that somehow, then it is not fair. The American people depend on the media for information. If they can only get their information from the government, then they will not be getting the whole, unbiased story.
Rozen, Laura. Journalists take flak in Iraq. The Nation. 12 January, 2004. http://www.thenation.com/doc/20040112/rozen
Monday, April 23, 2007
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Citizen Journalism kicks down the door
After a semester of talking about possibilities and probabilities, we finally got our answer with the shootings at Virginia Tech: citizen journalism is going to play a huge role in media’s future. It was easy to debate things before there was a really large news event to put our theories to the test, but I’d say now the evidence is undeniable.
As soon as I learned about the shootings taking place, I flipped on the TV and started browsing the Internet to see what I could find out. The style of reporting wasn’t a complete shock to me, but the scale on which they were using it
On TV, reporters had not quite reached the scene, but news anchors on all of the national 24-hour news networks were reporting on calls parents and students at the university made to them. They read stories from blogs and showed photos that were posted almost instantaneously. Their entire reports relied on reporting citizens were providing them with.
The Internet was even more detailed. The information was posted in story form, but the stories the Web sites posted linked to cell phone videos, pictures students with digital cameras took and stories students in the barricaded classrooms were posting to blogs. The complete reliance on citizens for the news drove home the point that we’re no longer working in a traditional media setting.
As much as some of us may dislike the idea that citizens can and will report on many large news stories, it’s no longer a choice we have nor something we can control. The ease with which you can post news to Blogger, photos to a site like Flickr and video to YouTube removed the barriers to citizens wanting to instantly share news. What our discussion should focus on now is not the “if the media is going to evolve” debate but how we are going to adapt with it.
By using these citizen reports, photos and video as a strong supplement to what we do, we can once again strengthen our position as a provider of information and more importantly, build more credibility with the people we are continuously covering. Denying the usefulness citizens have in reporting news is ignorance at best and ridiculous arrogance at worst. Providing a place for all of these forms of communication and information to culminate, newspapers (both print and more specifically online) can once again establish themselves as the top news source in media.
Large-scale news events like this, though horribly unfortunate and sad, will occur many times in the future. We should use this tragic event as the basis of how coverage should work in the new media world. By studying the coverage that was provided, we can learn how we can improve on what we did and how to fix flaws in our system. By providing complete coverage of events like this, we can start to regain some of the readership we’ve lost over past years.
This also applies to smaller events and news stories. By providing thorough coverage of them and giving citizen journalists the ability to contribute to the newsgathering and reporting processes, we stand to gain tremendously from a huge influx of stories, ideas and opinions that we’ve been lacking in recent years.
The concept of citizen journalism has been lauded as the future of our profession by certain professors during my schooling over the past few years, but I think the shootings at Virginia Tech drove the point home as a reality. If we’re smart, we’ll use this as evidence that we need to seriously consider making some changes in the newsroom and adapt to the future mediascape. If not, we’ll just continue to fall farther behind.
As soon as I learned about the shootings taking place, I flipped on the TV and started browsing the Internet to see what I could find out. The style of reporting wasn’t a complete shock to me, but the scale on which they were using it
On TV, reporters had not quite reached the scene, but news anchors on all of the national 24-hour news networks were reporting on calls parents and students at the university made to them. They read stories from blogs and showed photos that were posted almost instantaneously. Their entire reports relied on reporting citizens were providing them with.
The Internet was even more detailed. The information was posted in story form, but the stories the Web sites posted linked to cell phone videos, pictures students with digital cameras took and stories students in the barricaded classrooms were posting to blogs. The complete reliance on citizens for the news drove home the point that we’re no longer working in a traditional media setting.
As much as some of us may dislike the idea that citizens can and will report on many large news stories, it’s no longer a choice we have nor something we can control. The ease with which you can post news to Blogger, photos to a site like Flickr and video to YouTube removed the barriers to citizens wanting to instantly share news. What our discussion should focus on now is not the “if the media is going to evolve” debate but how we are going to adapt with it.
By using these citizen reports, photos and video as a strong supplement to what we do, we can once again strengthen our position as a provider of information and more importantly, build more credibility with the people we are continuously covering. Denying the usefulness citizens have in reporting news is ignorance at best and ridiculous arrogance at worst. Providing a place for all of these forms of communication and information to culminate, newspapers (both print and more specifically online) can once again establish themselves as the top news source in media.
Large-scale news events like this, though horribly unfortunate and sad, will occur many times in the future. We should use this tragic event as the basis of how coverage should work in the new media world. By studying the coverage that was provided, we can learn how we can improve on what we did and how to fix flaws in our system. By providing complete coverage of events like this, we can start to regain some of the readership we’ve lost over past years.
This also applies to smaller events and news stories. By providing thorough coverage of them and giving citizen journalists the ability to contribute to the newsgathering and reporting processes, we stand to gain tremendously from a huge influx of stories, ideas and opinions that we’ve been lacking in recent years.
The concept of citizen journalism has been lauded as the future of our profession by certain professors during my schooling over the past few years, but I think the shootings at Virginia Tech drove the point home as a reality. If we’re smart, we’ll use this as evidence that we need to seriously consider making some changes in the newsroom and adapt to the future mediascape. If not, we’ll just continue to fall farther behind.
Dry Bones
Like the three front-runners for the Republican presidential nomination, I think the war in Iraq is important in our defending this country against Islamic terrorism. The 2008 election will be the first election in over 30 years where a central campaign’s issue is America’s role in a war on foreign soil. Although our focus remains on Iraq, our challenge is farther-reaching -- in Afghanistan, Syria, Pakistan and Iran. A March 2007 CNN poll showed that 21 percent of Americans want to withdraw from Iraq now, 37 percent within a year; and 39 percent want to remain as long as necessary.
I would make up the 39 percent who “want to remain as long as necessary.” Which is why I wouldn’t be very good at reporting this story.
And yet, I must admit to being mildly exasperated by the current coverage of the war. I never doubted the difficulty foreign correspondents face. The war is costly and dangerous. Journalists are now the targets and, in many ways, their lot has become “a lonelier media scene,” as Sherry Ricchiardi notes in her article “How danger and high costs limit Iraq coverage.” She suggests that the “relentless violence in Iraq has seriously compromised coverage of arguably the most important story in the world today. Certain facets of the conflict remain exasperatingly elusive or, at best, thinly reported” (28).
In researching for this essay, I came across an April 19, 2007, article by Daniel Henninger in the Wall Street Journal that suggested Americans are “hollowed out”; we’re tired and seem to be suffering from dry bones -- the world-weary feeling that seems to seep into one’s bones after enduring tragedy after tragedy. Henninger suggests that Americans’ response to the Virginia Tech shootings weren’t “inappropriate, inadequate or lacking sympathy”; rather, it “just seemed that the emotional surge was discernibly less than with similar events in the past -- such as Oklahoma City, the Beltway sniper, Columbine, the Branch Davidians. This was the sort of event that normally would have caused one's phone to ring off the hook or email inbox to fill with alerts from friends. But that didn't seem to happen this time. If one wasn't watching TV, the news arrived with an uncharacteristic delay.”
But what of the war in Iraq? To me, the media recently have become more detached, cynical, unemotional. While a moving story can just as easily bore, there seems to be fewer stories to put the war into context, to help us wrap our minds around a most complex subject. Yes, the war is violent and perhaps can’t be won. Moreover, the suicide bomber’s psyche is impossible to comprehend. But we shouldn’t be seeing the war from an emotional distance.
Until nightly news producers realize these stories should be run, no matter how much coverage on a particular night is devoted to Iraq, America will continue its “numbing down,” a phrase Henninger used to describe what seems to be our country’s disposition as of late.
There have been more than 700 suicide bombings since 2003. The politics of war is important, but so are the facts and figures and the emotion. Somewhere in our coverage of the war, though, the more concrete has been muddled by doomsday accounts of where the war is headed.
Henninger suggests that the “effect of all this is disabling, perhaps for a long time.” He continues: “One example: Supporters of intervention in Darfur are upset that the international community hasn't responded. That hesitation may be morally unattractive, but one can hardly drain the limited wells of emotional and moral fortitude in Iraq and expect them to produce elsewhere. For the foreseeable future, Americans may decide they don't wish to expose themselves to similar drainings.”
I’m reminded of the old adage that where you stand depends on where you sit. In the case of coverage of the war, I readily admit to being partisan. I agree with Ricchiardi’s assertion that Americans are left without a complete account of the war, which she characterizes as “a prolonged, bloody war that is devouring billions of taxpayers’ dollars” (28). But I would contend it’s because the politics has trumped the human effect. To adequately cover a war, the media mustn’t aim to prove the futility of the war, nor should the media offer nothing more than harrowing accounts of death. That’s the job of politicians -- to sensationalize. The job of a journalist is to provide the numbers -- and then to contextualize those numbers in a story.
Until the media adopt a new plan in covering Iraq, I'm not shocked by this country’s apparent waning interest in the war. As Henninger notes, “Europe did after World War I, when people became hollowed out by repetitive exposure to violence and death -- real or manufactured. No one should be surprised if our shell-shocked population is reluctant any time soon to revisit the experience outside the realm of friends and family.”
I would make up the 39 percent who “want to remain as long as necessary.” Which is why I wouldn’t be very good at reporting this story.
And yet, I must admit to being mildly exasperated by the current coverage of the war. I never doubted the difficulty foreign correspondents face. The war is costly and dangerous. Journalists are now the targets and, in many ways, their lot has become “a lonelier media scene,” as Sherry Ricchiardi notes in her article “How danger and high costs limit Iraq coverage.” She suggests that the “relentless violence in Iraq has seriously compromised coverage of arguably the most important story in the world today. Certain facets of the conflict remain exasperatingly elusive or, at best, thinly reported” (28).
In researching for this essay, I came across an April 19, 2007, article by Daniel Henninger in the Wall Street Journal that suggested Americans are “hollowed out”; we’re tired and seem to be suffering from dry bones -- the world-weary feeling that seems to seep into one’s bones after enduring tragedy after tragedy. Henninger suggests that Americans’ response to the Virginia Tech shootings weren’t “inappropriate, inadequate or lacking sympathy”; rather, it “just seemed that the emotional surge was discernibly less than with similar events in the past -- such as Oklahoma City, the Beltway sniper, Columbine, the Branch Davidians. This was the sort of event that normally would have caused one's phone to ring off the hook or email inbox to fill with alerts from friends. But that didn't seem to happen this time. If one wasn't watching TV, the news arrived with an uncharacteristic delay.”
But what of the war in Iraq? To me, the media recently have become more detached, cynical, unemotional. While a moving story can just as easily bore, there seems to be fewer stories to put the war into context, to help us wrap our minds around a most complex subject. Yes, the war is violent and perhaps can’t be won. Moreover, the suicide bomber’s psyche is impossible to comprehend. But we shouldn’t be seeing the war from an emotional distance.
Until nightly news producers realize these stories should be run, no matter how much coverage on a particular night is devoted to Iraq, America will continue its “numbing down,” a phrase Henninger used to describe what seems to be our country’s disposition as of late.
There have been more than 700 suicide bombings since 2003. The politics of war is important, but so are the facts and figures and the emotion. Somewhere in our coverage of the war, though, the more concrete has been muddled by doomsday accounts of where the war is headed.
Henninger suggests that the “effect of all this is disabling, perhaps for a long time.” He continues: “One example: Supporters of intervention in Darfur are upset that the international community hasn't responded. That hesitation may be morally unattractive, but one can hardly drain the limited wells of emotional and moral fortitude in Iraq and expect them to produce elsewhere. For the foreseeable future, Americans may decide they don't wish to expose themselves to similar drainings.”
I’m reminded of the old adage that where you stand depends on where you sit. In the case of coverage of the war, I readily admit to being partisan. I agree with Ricchiardi’s assertion that Americans are left without a complete account of the war, which she characterizes as “a prolonged, bloody war that is devouring billions of taxpayers’ dollars” (28). But I would contend it’s because the politics has trumped the human effect. To adequately cover a war, the media mustn’t aim to prove the futility of the war, nor should the media offer nothing more than harrowing accounts of death. That’s the job of politicians -- to sensationalize. The job of a journalist is to provide the numbers -- and then to contextualize those numbers in a story.
Until the media adopt a new plan in covering Iraq, I'm not shocked by this country’s apparent waning interest in the war. As Henninger notes, “Europe did after World War I, when people became hollowed out by repetitive exposure to violence and death -- real or manufactured. No one should be surprised if our shell-shocked population is reluctant any time soon to revisit the experience outside the realm of friends and family.”
Spreading the blame for VA Tech
In the event of a massacre or tragedy, after reporting the facts, what is the news media’s role in analysis of the event? There has been a trend in media reporting on tragedies, stretching from 9/11 to Hurricane Katrina to the shootings at Virginia Tech. News casters focus on how the event could have been prevented, or at least damage minimized, and then proceeds to place blame.
Civic journalism focuses on solving societal problems. How does placing blame solve problems? It is beneficial to analyze how a tragedy, such as the Virginia Tech shootings, could have been prevented. However, the source of a problem should not be laid on the shoulders of a handful of individuals. By placing blame, it gives the public a focal point for their rage. Especially in the case where the perpetrator is dead, it is easier to have a tangible person for placing blame and public outrage.
Anger is a rational response to a massacre, however public outrage impedes on solving problems. By saying one person’s actions allowed for this event to get out of control, it is easier for someone to say that would not be the way I act in the same situation. By blaming the university president for not locking down the campus after the first shootings in the dorm of Virginia Tech, it is easier for other university officials to say to themselves, “I would not act in that way – I would shut down the campus.”
This is not to say the media did not do their share to analyze the problem itself – which is more along the path of civic journalism. A beneficial use of time on public airwaves for the media would be to take a close look at the emergency response plans for universities across the nation. After the shootings at Columbine, the media focused some on this issue, however emergency plans for university campuses is vastly different from high schools because the campus is so stretched out. The media, after the shootings at Virginia Tech, did focus air time on this issue; however, it seems that newscasts were more consumed with placing blame.
Furthermore, placing blame on university officials, I would guess, makes them less cooperative in speaking with the media for purposes of analysis – beyond just releasing facts of the situation. In discussing emergency response strategies on the news, it would be beneficial to discuss with Virginia Tech officials how these strategies were developed – such as, if there was a formal plan for responding to an on-campus shooting, when was it developed, and if the faculty was well-informed concerning this plan and other emergency response plans.
Further analysis – that I did not encounter when watching the news – was the conflict concerning widely circulating a plan to respond to school shootings. For instance, if a shooter was familiar with an institution’s plan for response then he/she might be able to plan their shooting with more success – knowing that classrooms would be locked or that students were gathered in one area, etc…
When watching The View last week, shortly after the shootings, Rosie O’Donnell could do nothing but place blame. (For the record, The View was the first thing that came on when I woke up in the morning and I do not make a habit of watching it.) She was infuriated at the university officials for not locking down the university. Further she went on a rant about the university not using the fire alarm system to inform the entire campus about the first shooting. This frustrated me because she didn’t seem to understand that the fire alarms across campus would signal to students and faculty that they must exit the buildings and wait outside. In this case, it seems the shooter would have an easier target and be able to shoot more people since they would be amassed in a crowd outside the buildings.
Then Rosie went on to make the shootings a political issue. She ranted about gun control – which she has long been an advocate for. In this rant, however, she said she had given up on any hope of tighter gun control in the country. Rosie implied, in her rant, that this shooting was the fault of the NRA directly, and this interest group is so large that gun control is futile.
What was the purpose of Rosie’s rant, in this case? At first guess, she would seem to be attempting to guilt firearms advocates into changing their position. In doing so, however, she was convincing people who might advocate tighter gun controls that there was no hope. Every time one of her co-hosts tried to emphasize the importance of this issue, Rosie would insists that the power of the NRA makes any efforts ineffective. Aside from personal elation by yelling at the NRA and VA Tech officials, there was no worth in anything Rosie said.
The placing of blame – whether it be individual blame or turning the issue political – is only beneficial in providing an outlet for frustration and rage. This method of reporting does not serve the purpose of civic journalism. Reporters need to be focused on solving societal problems and not deciding who is at fault. Otherwise, journalists are not performing their duty of serving the public good and being a beneficial public informant in a democracy.
Civic journalism focuses on solving societal problems. How does placing blame solve problems? It is beneficial to analyze how a tragedy, such as the Virginia Tech shootings, could have been prevented. However, the source of a problem should not be laid on the shoulders of a handful of individuals. By placing blame, it gives the public a focal point for their rage. Especially in the case where the perpetrator is dead, it is easier to have a tangible person for placing blame and public outrage.
Anger is a rational response to a massacre, however public outrage impedes on solving problems. By saying one person’s actions allowed for this event to get out of control, it is easier for someone to say that would not be the way I act in the same situation. By blaming the university president for not locking down the campus after the first shootings in the dorm of Virginia Tech, it is easier for other university officials to say to themselves, “I would not act in that way – I would shut down the campus.”
This is not to say the media did not do their share to analyze the problem itself – which is more along the path of civic journalism. A beneficial use of time on public airwaves for the media would be to take a close look at the emergency response plans for universities across the nation. After the shootings at Columbine, the media focused some on this issue, however emergency plans for university campuses is vastly different from high schools because the campus is so stretched out. The media, after the shootings at Virginia Tech, did focus air time on this issue; however, it seems that newscasts were more consumed with placing blame.
Furthermore, placing blame on university officials, I would guess, makes them less cooperative in speaking with the media for purposes of analysis – beyond just releasing facts of the situation. In discussing emergency response strategies on the news, it would be beneficial to discuss with Virginia Tech officials how these strategies were developed – such as, if there was a formal plan for responding to an on-campus shooting, when was it developed, and if the faculty was well-informed concerning this plan and other emergency response plans.
Further analysis – that I did not encounter when watching the news – was the conflict concerning widely circulating a plan to respond to school shootings. For instance, if a shooter was familiar with an institution’s plan for response then he/she might be able to plan their shooting with more success – knowing that classrooms would be locked or that students were gathered in one area, etc…
When watching The View last week, shortly after the shootings, Rosie O’Donnell could do nothing but place blame. (For the record, The View was the first thing that came on when I woke up in the morning and I do not make a habit of watching it.) She was infuriated at the university officials for not locking down the university. Further she went on a rant about the university not using the fire alarm system to inform the entire campus about the first shooting. This frustrated me because she didn’t seem to understand that the fire alarms across campus would signal to students and faculty that they must exit the buildings and wait outside. In this case, it seems the shooter would have an easier target and be able to shoot more people since they would be amassed in a crowd outside the buildings.
Then Rosie went on to make the shootings a political issue. She ranted about gun control – which she has long been an advocate for. In this rant, however, she said she had given up on any hope of tighter gun control in the country. Rosie implied, in her rant, that this shooting was the fault of the NRA directly, and this interest group is so large that gun control is futile.
What was the purpose of Rosie’s rant, in this case? At first guess, she would seem to be attempting to guilt firearms advocates into changing their position. In doing so, however, she was convincing people who might advocate tighter gun controls that there was no hope. Every time one of her co-hosts tried to emphasize the importance of this issue, Rosie would insists that the power of the NRA makes any efforts ineffective. Aside from personal elation by yelling at the NRA and VA Tech officials, there was no worth in anything Rosie said.
The placing of blame – whether it be individual blame or turning the issue political – is only beneficial in providing an outlet for frustration and rage. This method of reporting does not serve the purpose of civic journalism. Reporters need to be focused on solving societal problems and not deciding who is at fault. Otherwise, journalists are not performing their duty of serving the public good and being a beneficial public informant in a democracy.
Which side of the bed are you on?
The coverage of the Iraq war has begged a very personal question of journalists: what have they been doing in (em)bed?
When the war began, so did a new kind of journalism: embedded coverage. Journalists were planted within military units to report on the front line as it happened. This kind of reporting required an unprecedented partnership: journalists and the Department of Defense.
Much of this relationship was and is symbiotic, with mutual benefits. The embedded journalists have received unparalleled access to military actions and intelligence officers and insight into the war's mentality and morale. Dan Murphy of the Christian Science Monitor said the only limitation on his access was abiding by the military's schedule. (CJR) Compared to the censorship of the Gulf War, the embedded journalists program is a dream of journalistic information. (BBC) In the meantime, the military has garnered a more informed public and political base, which are invaluable to its success. Clearly, the program is beneficial for the military, as the Pentagon hatched the concept for embedded reporting. (CJR and Zwirko)
Along with these benefits, however, there are rules, and there are criticisms.
The rules include not reporting on specific numbers of soldiers and equipment. Precise locations and future plans are also prohibited from publication. These regulations were designed to protect information from the former Iraqi government and, later, the insurgents. Such information, the military said, was critical for the soldiers' safety and for the war's success. The breaking of said rules was grounds for immediate dismissal as an embed. Very few embeds have been released for infractions.
What's more troubling for critics of the program is the proximity of journalists to the soldiers they're writing about. Critics say the reporters would be less likely to report objectively if they're relying on the soldiers for protection. (Zwirko) There have been accounts from embedded journalists to support both sides of this argument. For example, Jane Arraf of CNN said the military actually helped her report some of her most critical works. On the other hand, Chris Hondros of Getty Images tells about the attempted arrest of an embed who photographed insurgents attacking a plane. (CJR)
The limitation most noted by embedded journalists was difficulty talking to Iraqi people. (CJR) When the reporters did meet Iraqis, they were often unable to speak candidly. Another problem is the scope of embedded reporting. (Zwirko)
The BBC commissioned a study which looked at this very fear. The results of the study, published in June 2003, found that the biggest fault of embedded reporting was "sanitized" reporting, accounts that did not fully show the ugliness of the war. However, the study also found British cultural standards precipitated the sanitized reporting; it was not a result of bias or censorship. Another important note: nothing suggests the embedded journalists contributed significantly to misinformation or misleading reports. (BBC)
It seems as though the issue of embedded reporting remains far from settled. However, I'm not convinced it has to be. While many reporters remain embedded with the military, there are still freelancers and war correspondents outside this program. I think, collectively, journalists can offer a full picture and better information.
Columbia Journalism Review. The Embeds. November 2006.
BBC News. Iraq war journalism 'sanitised.' June 11, 2003. news.bbc.co.uk/go/pr/fr/-/2/hi/middle_east/3247267.stm
Dallas Morning News. Zwirko, Walt. Embedded journalists' reporting questioned. April 8, 2003.
BBC News. How embedded journalists are handling the war. March 25, 2003. http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/2885179.stm
http://foi.missouri.edu/jourwarcoverage/embeddedj.html
When the war began, so did a new kind of journalism: embedded coverage. Journalists were planted within military units to report on the front line as it happened. This kind of reporting required an unprecedented partnership: journalists and the Department of Defense.
Much of this relationship was and is symbiotic, with mutual benefits. The embedded journalists have received unparalleled access to military actions and intelligence officers and insight into the war's mentality and morale. Dan Murphy of the Christian Science Monitor said the only limitation on his access was abiding by the military's schedule. (CJR) Compared to the censorship of the Gulf War, the embedded journalists program is a dream of journalistic information. (BBC) In the meantime, the military has garnered a more informed public and political base, which are invaluable to its success. Clearly, the program is beneficial for the military, as the Pentagon hatched the concept for embedded reporting. (CJR and Zwirko)
Along with these benefits, however, there are rules, and there are criticisms.
The rules include not reporting on specific numbers of soldiers and equipment. Precise locations and future plans are also prohibited from publication. These regulations were designed to protect information from the former Iraqi government and, later, the insurgents. Such information, the military said, was critical for the soldiers' safety and for the war's success. The breaking of said rules was grounds for immediate dismissal as an embed. Very few embeds have been released for infractions.
What's more troubling for critics of the program is the proximity of journalists to the soldiers they're writing about. Critics say the reporters would be less likely to report objectively if they're relying on the soldiers for protection. (Zwirko) There have been accounts from embedded journalists to support both sides of this argument. For example, Jane Arraf of CNN said the military actually helped her report some of her most critical works. On the other hand, Chris Hondros of Getty Images tells about the attempted arrest of an embed who photographed insurgents attacking a plane. (CJR)
The limitation most noted by embedded journalists was difficulty talking to Iraqi people. (CJR) When the reporters did meet Iraqis, they were often unable to speak candidly. Another problem is the scope of embedded reporting. (Zwirko)
The BBC commissioned a study which looked at this very fear. The results of the study, published in June 2003, found that the biggest fault of embedded reporting was "sanitized" reporting, accounts that did not fully show the ugliness of the war. However, the study also found British cultural standards precipitated the sanitized reporting; it was not a result of bias or censorship. Another important note: nothing suggests the embedded journalists contributed significantly to misinformation or misleading reports. (BBC)
It seems as though the issue of embedded reporting remains far from settled. However, I'm not convinced it has to be. While many reporters remain embedded with the military, there are still freelancers and war correspondents outside this program. I think, collectively, journalists can offer a full picture and better information.
Columbia Journalism Review. The Embeds. November 2006.
BBC News. Iraq war journalism 'sanitised.' June 11, 2003. news.bbc.co.uk/go/pr/fr/-/2/hi/middle_east/3247267.stm
Dallas Morning News. Zwirko, Walt. Embedded journalists' reporting questioned. April 8, 2003.
BBC News. How embedded journalists are handling the war. March 25, 2003. http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/2885179.stm
http://foi.missouri.edu/jourwarcoverage/embeddedj.html
War is suffering, and so is our coverage of it.
When people die, who is there to tell about it?
When countries are attacked, how will the world know?
When oppression comes not only from those who instill fear and hate, but also those who claim to battle them, who should demand answers?
The answer, of course, is journalists. But therein lies the problem. I don’t believe there is even a fraction of the reporting we need going on in Iraq, and unless something changes, I think there ever will be. Whether it’s because of funding, danger or a myriad of other reasons, we are not covering the war the way it should be covered, at least in the “mainstream” media outlets.
Remember Ernie Pyle? Yeah, that guy who gave his life to show Americans what war was really like? He evoked emotion. Sometimes it was anger, sometimes sadness and usually, he offered hope. We’re short on writers who do that for the Iraq struggle. One of the few who is actually trying to get at the realities of this deadly farce called a war is Michael Yon. He has been a self-sustaining journalist who is still embedded in Iraq. His dispatches are gritty, filled with content and emotion that cuts right to the core.
“Much more perilous is the often toxic nature of relations between journalists and the military, which has been steadily eroding since the start of this war,” Yon wrote. “When it comes to assigning blame for the public’s lack of support for this war, many are quick to point accusingly at journalists, but I cast no blame on any journalist for not being here.”
The reason Yon doesn’t blame journalists is because the conditions and the military have made it nearly impossible to report in the country. “Journalists who roam the battlefield with the troops and write freely for long periods are completely gone. That doesn’t mean good journalists are gone. There are plenty of those, but mostly they are somewhere else, or they only come to Iraq for quick tours.”
To me, this is a very sad fact, not just for writers, but also for the nation. It was the newspapers that constantly threw Vietnam into the public’s face, until they couldn’t take it any more. If there is anything that is notable about this “war,” it is the disturbing lack of protest. Yes, people are discontent, and even angry that our men and women are dying in the Middle East. But so few are taking to the streets, so many remain silent.
I think a very good solution to this is for publishers and editors of our major metros to start cranking up the heat. The more our generation is afraid to question authority, namely in the form of our religious and political leaders, the more we are all just sheep. As journalists it is our role to inform the people of what is going on, no matter how hard it is to stomach. I say put a picture of a dead soldier on the front page every damn day until we are out of that wretched country. The American people should demand this. War is gruesome, awful and hideously bad for nearly everyone involved in it.
If we are not showing this reality every day, someone’s not doing their job.
When countries are attacked, how will the world know?
When oppression comes not only from those who instill fear and hate, but also those who claim to battle them, who should demand answers?
The answer, of course, is journalists. But therein lies the problem. I don’t believe there is even a fraction of the reporting we need going on in Iraq, and unless something changes, I think there ever will be. Whether it’s because of funding, danger or a myriad of other reasons, we are not covering the war the way it should be covered, at least in the “mainstream” media outlets.
Remember Ernie Pyle? Yeah, that guy who gave his life to show Americans what war was really like? He evoked emotion. Sometimes it was anger, sometimes sadness and usually, he offered hope. We’re short on writers who do that for the Iraq struggle. One of the few who is actually trying to get at the realities of this deadly farce called a war is Michael Yon. He has been a self-sustaining journalist who is still embedded in Iraq. His dispatches are gritty, filled with content and emotion that cuts right to the core.
“Much more perilous is the often toxic nature of relations between journalists and the military, which has been steadily eroding since the start of this war,” Yon wrote. “When it comes to assigning blame for the public’s lack of support for this war, many are quick to point accusingly at journalists, but I cast no blame on any journalist for not being here.”
The reason Yon doesn’t blame journalists is because the conditions and the military have made it nearly impossible to report in the country. “Journalists who roam the battlefield with the troops and write freely for long periods are completely gone. That doesn’t mean good journalists are gone. There are plenty of those, but mostly they are somewhere else, or they only come to Iraq for quick tours.”
To me, this is a very sad fact, not just for writers, but also for the nation. It was the newspapers that constantly threw Vietnam into the public’s face, until they couldn’t take it any more. If there is anything that is notable about this “war,” it is the disturbing lack of protest. Yes, people are discontent, and even angry that our men and women are dying in the Middle East. But so few are taking to the streets, so many remain silent.
I think a very good solution to this is for publishers and editors of our major metros to start cranking up the heat. The more our generation is afraid to question authority, namely in the form of our religious and political leaders, the more we are all just sheep. As journalists it is our role to inform the people of what is going on, no matter how hard it is to stomach. I say put a picture of a dead soldier on the front page every damn day until we are out of that wretched country. The American people should demand this. War is gruesome, awful and hideously bad for nearly everyone involved in it.
If we are not showing this reality every day, someone’s not doing their job.
Friday, April 20, 2007
the longer we're here
Anthony Shadid tells stories. He tells them so well, in fact, that he won the 2004 Pulitzer for International Reporting. He reports from Iraq for the Washington Post, and I saw him speak at Memorial Union in November after the release of his book Night Draws Near.
Night Draws Near is the story of Iraq’s people—their collective history as a nation, their culture, and their struggles since the American invasion. During his speech, Shadid told us about a few of the people he knew in Iraq, in particular a 15-year-old girl who wants to be a writer.
An hour after the speech, I ran out and got the book. (The speech was a pretty good advertisement, I must say.) I needed to read it because, well, I wanted to learn about Iraq, and I didn’t feel like I was getting enough from the newspapers.
Don’t get me wrong. The reporters in Iraq are doing a fine job. They put their lives in danger every day to report the war, and I’m grateful for that. I guess I just want more.
The reports I read are mostly numbers. Two soldiers killed in a helicopter crash. Forty dead after a suicide bombing. These are important numbers, of course, but what do they mean? Unless I saved every single newspaper clipping from every story I read, I would have no context for these figures. I would never know what life is like in Baghdad, or how these numbers have really affected our country and theirs.
It’s hard, when you’re a reporter, to get all this in a 20-inch story that’s due in a few hours. It took Anthony Shadid 448 pages and years of reporting and reflection to fit it all in. That failing is no one’s fault; it’s just the flaw of our medium. Because reporters are limited on time and space, and because they can only see what’s happening in one place, with one family or battalion at a time, the coverage is segmented and hard to understand.
When he won the Pulitzer for his reporting, Shadid addressed the Washington Post newsroom. He thanked his editors and sources, and then said something that I think sums up the challenge that reporters in Iraq face:
“The longer I’m here,” he said, “the less I understand the story.”
If he’s in the middle of it all, and he doesn’t understand it, how are we supposed to when we’re thousands of miles away?
The role of reporters in the Iraq war is to make sense of something that doesn’t make sense at all; to give context to a war that is being fought before their eyes; to give us the not just the numbers, but also the stories. That’s hard when no one understands it, and it gets harder the longer we’re there.
I don’t think anyone will understand this war for many, many years—after the last shots are fired, the newspapers have been collected and the books written. Then, we can take a step back with the eyes of hindsight and analyze how it all happened and what it means. Until then, reporters will write the best they can with what they see; we’ll try to make sense of it back home with whatever news they give us.
Night Draws Near is the story of Iraq’s people—their collective history as a nation, their culture, and their struggles since the American invasion. During his speech, Shadid told us about a few of the people he knew in Iraq, in particular a 15-year-old girl who wants to be a writer.
An hour after the speech, I ran out and got the book. (The speech was a pretty good advertisement, I must say.) I needed to read it because, well, I wanted to learn about Iraq, and I didn’t feel like I was getting enough from the newspapers.
Don’t get me wrong. The reporters in Iraq are doing a fine job. They put their lives in danger every day to report the war, and I’m grateful for that. I guess I just want more.
The reports I read are mostly numbers. Two soldiers killed in a helicopter crash. Forty dead after a suicide bombing. These are important numbers, of course, but what do they mean? Unless I saved every single newspaper clipping from every story I read, I would have no context for these figures. I would never know what life is like in Baghdad, or how these numbers have really affected our country and theirs.
It’s hard, when you’re a reporter, to get all this in a 20-inch story that’s due in a few hours. It took Anthony Shadid 448 pages and years of reporting and reflection to fit it all in. That failing is no one’s fault; it’s just the flaw of our medium. Because reporters are limited on time and space, and because they can only see what’s happening in one place, with one family or battalion at a time, the coverage is segmented and hard to understand.
When he won the Pulitzer for his reporting, Shadid addressed the Washington Post newsroom. He thanked his editors and sources, and then said something that I think sums up the challenge that reporters in Iraq face:
“The longer I’m here,” he said, “the less I understand the story.”
If he’s in the middle of it all, and he doesn’t understand it, how are we supposed to when we’re thousands of miles away?
The role of reporters in the Iraq war is to make sense of something that doesn’t make sense at all; to give context to a war that is being fought before their eyes; to give us the not just the numbers, but also the stories. That’s hard when no one understands it, and it gets harder the longer we’re there.
I don’t think anyone will understand this war for many, many years—after the last shots are fired, the newspapers have been collected and the books written. Then, we can take a step back with the eyes of hindsight and analyze how it all happened and what it means. Until then, reporters will write the best they can with what they see; we’ll try to make sense of it back home with whatever news they give us.
Journalism and Iraq
A journalist’s role in Iraq is to report stories so as to bring the war back to the American people — just like a beat in any American city, this includes breaking news, enterprise pieces and even features.
It is even more important for reporters in Iraq to perform these duties, because the realities of the war are nearly impossible for regular citizens to see themselves. While it’s possible for someone to go witness a trial or sporting event by themselves, it’s not likely anyone would journey to Baghdad for a first-person view of the insurgency. This places journalists in a high-pressure situation, because they offer the only view of the war (ideally) untouched by the government.
Not only are journalists the country’s eyes and ears in Iraq, but journalists also serve the role as interpreter. At any given moment in Iraq, several important events are taking place, and it’s the job of journalists to put these events into context for its readers, viewers and listeners. In a time when the Bush administration has become increasingly tight-lipped, this is a role that is vital to Americans becoming better informed about the war and, more importantly, the United States’ place in the Middle East.
Another role journalists have in Iraq is that of being patriotic — and not the Olympic “America’s-the-best-place-on-earth” kind — but rather, showing courage to continue in the democratic process of finding and reporting the story. A free and active press is integral to Democracy, and seeing the product of important, life-threatening work by journalists can be encouraging to a public that is generally uninformed on world issues. Journalists must also relieve panic from the front by placing the risks talked about at home (which often come from politicos with agendas) into context. This is especially useful, since most of what people hear outside of the media is from politicians with a vested interest in the war.
Unfortunately, a journalist’s role in Iraq has also come to include being safe. Experiences like that of Jill Carroll’s have become increasingly common. Iraq is a country that has come to be characterized by instability, and many journalists have paid the price for doing their job. Many news organizations have taken on private security guards for their Iraq correspondents, and have taken refuge in “safe” areas of Iraq to eliminate as much of the threat as possible. However, as many precautions have been taken, violence seems to slowly be winning in the battle against journalism.
“The relentless violence in Iraq has seriously compromised coverage of arguably the most important story in the world today,” Sherry Ricchiardi writes in her AJR article, “Obstructed View.” “Certain facets of the conflict remain exasperatingly elusive or, at best, thinly reported. The media’s vital role as eyewitness has been severely limited.” Ricchiardi continues that security concerns have become so great, and so costly, that correspondents are uninformed and in increasing peril. She reports that Iraq has been ranked the most dangerous place for journalists for the fourth consecutive year, and this has meant that journalists can’t travel to places on their own for reporting, greatly hindering the story that is being told back here in the United States.
This increased danger has meant high security costs for news organizations, Ricchiardi writes, which has meant many news organizations don’t hang around. There are fewer correspondents and fewer news organizations in Iraq every day, and with the violence likely to get worse, the future doesn’t look bright.
It is even more important for reporters in Iraq to perform these duties, because the realities of the war are nearly impossible for regular citizens to see themselves. While it’s possible for someone to go witness a trial or sporting event by themselves, it’s not likely anyone would journey to Baghdad for a first-person view of the insurgency. This places journalists in a high-pressure situation, because they offer the only view of the war (ideally) untouched by the government.
Not only are journalists the country’s eyes and ears in Iraq, but journalists also serve the role as interpreter. At any given moment in Iraq, several important events are taking place, and it’s the job of journalists to put these events into context for its readers, viewers and listeners. In a time when the Bush administration has become increasingly tight-lipped, this is a role that is vital to Americans becoming better informed about the war and, more importantly, the United States’ place in the Middle East.
Another role journalists have in Iraq is that of being patriotic — and not the Olympic “America’s-the-best-place-on-earth” kind — but rather, showing courage to continue in the democratic process of finding and reporting the story. A free and active press is integral to Democracy, and seeing the product of important, life-threatening work by journalists can be encouraging to a public that is generally uninformed on world issues. Journalists must also relieve panic from the front by placing the risks talked about at home (which often come from politicos with agendas) into context. This is especially useful, since most of what people hear outside of the media is from politicians with a vested interest in the war.
Unfortunately, a journalist’s role in Iraq has also come to include being safe. Experiences like that of Jill Carroll’s have become increasingly common. Iraq is a country that has come to be characterized by instability, and many journalists have paid the price for doing their job. Many news organizations have taken on private security guards for their Iraq correspondents, and have taken refuge in “safe” areas of Iraq to eliminate as much of the threat as possible. However, as many precautions have been taken, violence seems to slowly be winning in the battle against journalism.
“The relentless violence in Iraq has seriously compromised coverage of arguably the most important story in the world today,” Sherry Ricchiardi writes in her AJR article, “Obstructed View.” “Certain facets of the conflict remain exasperatingly elusive or, at best, thinly reported. The media’s vital role as eyewitness has been severely limited.” Ricchiardi continues that security concerns have become so great, and so costly, that correspondents are uninformed and in increasing peril. She reports that Iraq has been ranked the most dangerous place for journalists for the fourth consecutive year, and this has meant that journalists can’t travel to places on their own for reporting, greatly hindering the story that is being told back here in the United States.
This increased danger has meant high security costs for news organizations, Ricchiardi writes, which has meant many news organizations don’t hang around. There are fewer correspondents and fewer news organizations in Iraq every day, and with the violence likely to get worse, the future doesn’t look bright.
Tuesday, April 3, 2007
An interesting column
I thought this might be an appropriate column to post, since we discussed the Tribune's sale in class yesterday. It's written by the Tribune's John Kass.
News about us is just part of the news
Published April 3, 2007
A.fter a week of a relaxing family vacation, watching the cherry blossoms pop in Washington, D.C., I came back to work to the news that Tribune Co. had been sold and the Cubs are up for sale.
As I wandered through the newsroom Monday morning, a colleague stopped me with a question. I figured it would have something to do with anxiety and all the other emotions running through all of us employed by an organization where big news was made about some awfully big changes around here.
She was uncertain, but not about all that stuff.
"Have you talked to [Mr. So-and-So] about the lawsuit?" she asked, meaning a lawsuit involving someone close to a powerful local politician.
The Cubs are on the block, Tribune Co., which owns the Chicago Tribune, had been purchased, but what she was interested in was Mr. So-and-So (not his real name, because if I printed his real name while she's still working on the story, she'd have good reason to kill me).
"Well," she asked. "Have you talked to Mr. So-and-So? Are you going to speak to him?"
Her desk was piled with documents and other papers, and bits of notes and scraps of ideas and old phone numbers written in margins, and electronic nuggets of information on the computer screen before her.
She wasn't intent on Tribune Co. news, or the Cubs, or Sam Zell, the Chicago business tycoon who put the Tribune deal together to take the company private. She wasn't consumed by any of that, but by something else: reporting a story about powerful people.
The reason I'm telling you about this exchange -- one of hundreds like it around here every day -- is because that's what we've been doing for more than a century. The Chicago Tribune tells other stories exceedingly well, but we don't tell our own story very well at all.
Here's what we do: report and analyze and confront the powerful who don't like being confronted. We write about what we've learned, and sometimes we hope to entertain you along the way. We're compelled to do this, as all reporters everywhere are compelled, to find out the what and the how and the why of things.
So the reporter isn't going to lower the demands she places on herself, and neither will others, no matter what changes are made on the business side. Whether this deal with Zell makes business sense is something I can't judge. I'm not in business. In the short term, the deal ends the anxiety in the newsroom and the gloominess that comes with uncertainty over possibly being purchased by people who don't understand Chicago.
Now, things are certain: A Chicago guy has bought himself a media company that puts out the Chicago Tribune.
The other news is that they'll sell the Cubs, which, as a White Sox fan, doesn't bother me much. I've already had my revenge on the Cubs fans around here when the White Sox lent me their 2005 World Series trophy and I took it upstairs to the boardroom and dared the executives to touch it, and they prudently refused to tempt the fates.
But the baseball team's sale is in the future, and the sale of the Tribune has already taken place, and what's important today is that the paper continues. You'll find dismal Opening Day baseball stories in the sports section, and Police Supt. Phil Cline's resignation, forced by Mayor Richard Daley because somebody had to fall for the videotaped beating of that petite Northwest Side bartender by a vicious, drunken cop.
Though changes have been announced, this remains the Chicago Tribune.
This is the paper that has been the one constant in an ever-changing city. It is the paper that fought slavery and supported Lincoln, and later bickered with other presidents and gangsters and political bosses. It is the paper that told Nixon to resign. It is the newspaper that called on another president to send a politically independent fed to Chicago to go after Al Capone, and Elliot Ness arrived and did his work. This is the newspaper that, only a few years ago, angered the Illinois political establishment by calling for a politically independent federal prosecutor to be sent to Chicago, to ferret out the political corruption plaguing the state's taxpayers. U.S. Atty. Patrick Fitzgerald has been quite busy since he arrived.
On the outer walls of Tribune Tower, there are fragments set in stone of temples and monuments taken from historic sites from all over the world. These are not mere souvenirs or trophies. They represent greatness and the great ideas behind them. Writers and editors pass these reminders each day and can't help but be informed by them, and we pass inscriptions carved into the walls of the Tower's lobby.
My favorite is quite brief, and it is set above a door leading to the elevators. I read this quote from Lord Thomas Macaulay every day and still get goose bumps: "Where there is a free press the governors must live in constant awe of the opinions of the governed."
But stones from palaces and temples and quotes don't make a newspaper. All that can change. What makes this a paper I'm proud to work for are people like my colleagues, like that woman who asked me the question, and who will keep asking about the how and why of things in Chicago.
----------
jskass@tribune.com
News about us is just part of the news
Published April 3, 2007
A.fter a week of a relaxing family vacation, watching the cherry blossoms pop in Washington, D.C., I came back to work to the news that Tribune Co. had been sold and the Cubs are up for sale.
As I wandered through the newsroom Monday morning, a colleague stopped me with a question. I figured it would have something to do with anxiety and all the other emotions running through all of us employed by an organization where big news was made about some awfully big changes around here.
She was uncertain, but not about all that stuff.
"Have you talked to [Mr. So-and-So] about the lawsuit?" she asked, meaning a lawsuit involving someone close to a powerful local politician.
The Cubs are on the block, Tribune Co., which owns the Chicago Tribune, had been purchased, but what she was interested in was Mr. So-and-So (not his real name, because if I printed his real name while she's still working on the story, she'd have good reason to kill me).
"Well," she asked. "Have you talked to Mr. So-and-So? Are you going to speak to him?"
Her desk was piled with documents and other papers, and bits of notes and scraps of ideas and old phone numbers written in margins, and electronic nuggets of information on the computer screen before her.
She wasn't intent on Tribune Co. news, or the Cubs, or Sam Zell, the Chicago business tycoon who put the Tribune deal together to take the company private. She wasn't consumed by any of that, but by something else: reporting a story about powerful people.
The reason I'm telling you about this exchange -- one of hundreds like it around here every day -- is because that's what we've been doing for more than a century. The Chicago Tribune tells other stories exceedingly well, but we don't tell our own story very well at all.
Here's what we do: report and analyze and confront the powerful who don't like being confronted. We write about what we've learned, and sometimes we hope to entertain you along the way. We're compelled to do this, as all reporters everywhere are compelled, to find out the what and the how and the why of things.
So the reporter isn't going to lower the demands she places on herself, and neither will others, no matter what changes are made on the business side. Whether this deal with Zell makes business sense is something I can't judge. I'm not in business. In the short term, the deal ends the anxiety in the newsroom and the gloominess that comes with uncertainty over possibly being purchased by people who don't understand Chicago.
Now, things are certain: A Chicago guy has bought himself a media company that puts out the Chicago Tribune.
The other news is that they'll sell the Cubs, which, as a White Sox fan, doesn't bother me much. I've already had my revenge on the Cubs fans around here when the White Sox lent me their 2005 World Series trophy and I took it upstairs to the boardroom and dared the executives to touch it, and they prudently refused to tempt the fates.
But the baseball team's sale is in the future, and the sale of the Tribune has already taken place, and what's important today is that the paper continues. You'll find dismal Opening Day baseball stories in the sports section, and Police Supt. Phil Cline's resignation, forced by Mayor Richard Daley because somebody had to fall for the videotaped beating of that petite Northwest Side bartender by a vicious, drunken cop.
Though changes have been announced, this remains the Chicago Tribune.
This is the paper that has been the one constant in an ever-changing city. It is the paper that fought slavery and supported Lincoln, and later bickered with other presidents and gangsters and political bosses. It is the paper that told Nixon to resign. It is the newspaper that called on another president to send a politically independent fed to Chicago to go after Al Capone, and Elliot Ness arrived and did his work. This is the newspaper that, only a few years ago, angered the Illinois political establishment by calling for a politically independent federal prosecutor to be sent to Chicago, to ferret out the political corruption plaguing the state's taxpayers. U.S. Atty. Patrick Fitzgerald has been quite busy since he arrived.
On the outer walls of Tribune Tower, there are fragments set in stone of temples and monuments taken from historic sites from all over the world. These are not mere souvenirs or trophies. They represent greatness and the great ideas behind them. Writers and editors pass these reminders each day and can't help but be informed by them, and we pass inscriptions carved into the walls of the Tower's lobby.
My favorite is quite brief, and it is set above a door leading to the elevators. I read this quote from Lord Thomas Macaulay every day and still get goose bumps: "Where there is a free press the governors must live in constant awe of the opinions of the governed."
But stones from palaces and temples and quotes don't make a newspaper. All that can change. What makes this a paper I'm proud to work for are people like my colleagues, like that woman who asked me the question, and who will keep asking about the how and why of things in Chicago.
----------
jskass@tribune.com
Monday, April 2, 2007
Journalism according to Publius
“If men were angels, no government would be necessary. If angels were to govern men, neither external nor internal controls on government would be necessary.”
~Publius, The Federalist Papers Number 57
While this document, most likely authored by Alexander Hamilton or James Madison, never mentions journalism, previous and subsequent Federalist publications make the mention of “external” controls a clear reference to the freedom of the press. The is the most essential role of journalists is to fill the need laid forth by this quote: a secondary monitor on those in power.
The idea that the Constitution of the United States of America was set forth in such a superior manner to be a self-containing, corruption-free unit, operating in the interests of the people is simply not a reality. One look at the ills exposed by the investigative journalism, taking place now, illustrates the importance of the watchdog. Often, internal governmental review occurs only after journalism brings the error to light.
Despite my skepticism, harsh statements and anti-establishment tendencies, I love this nation. I became a journalist with the ideal of helping grease the cogs that make the clockwork of democracy tick. In high school I thought politics would satiate my feelings of obligation to serve the nation. I quickly realized a major flaw with this profession: I didn’t like the “politics” involved. The every day vying for approval and popularity associated with teenage girls isn’t too far from the workings on Capitol Hill. I found myself distanced from the squabbles and drama of my friends. Rather, I observed the intricacies of the game and learned only to give advice to those within the system.
This analogy might appear trivial, however, I find that this describes the role I play as a journalist today: the proverbial “fly on the wall” if you will. I search for that which needs to be exposed and expose it. I analyze the intricacies of policy, searching to educate people and illuminate the situation.
Another sector of American society that needs to be watched by journalists has emerged in the face of modernity. Yes, once again I am dragging “big businesses” into my debates. This sector didn’t exist in the days of Hamilton and Madison, but had it been the lobbying-superpower that it is today, the two probably would have addressed the issue in their infamous papers.
Enron and Tyco proved to America, if nothing else, that capitalism does not instill ethics in corporations. A secondary check on the power and control of these mega companies is essential. Journalists almost missed the boat with Enron, but eventually they hit the target, sinking the ship. If journalists are to serve the public well, they must investigate both the governmental and businesses sectors.
Perhaps Publius did address the need of a watchdog for corporations in The Federalist Papers Number 57. In an abstract sort of way that pits the haves against the have-nots in a society filled with middle-class workers.
“It is of great importance in a republic not only to guard the society against the oppression of its rulers, but to guard one part of the society against the injustice of the other part. Different interests necessarily exist in different classes of citizens. If a majority be united by a common interest, the rights of the minority will be insecure.”
~Publius, The Federalist Papers Number 57
While this document, most likely authored by Alexander Hamilton or James Madison, never mentions journalism, previous and subsequent Federalist publications make the mention of “external” controls a clear reference to the freedom of the press. The is the most essential role of journalists is to fill the need laid forth by this quote: a secondary monitor on those in power.
The idea that the Constitution of the United States of America was set forth in such a superior manner to be a self-containing, corruption-free unit, operating in the interests of the people is simply not a reality. One look at the ills exposed by the investigative journalism, taking place now, illustrates the importance of the watchdog. Often, internal governmental review occurs only after journalism brings the error to light.
Despite my skepticism, harsh statements and anti-establishment tendencies, I love this nation. I became a journalist with the ideal of helping grease the cogs that make the clockwork of democracy tick. In high school I thought politics would satiate my feelings of obligation to serve the nation. I quickly realized a major flaw with this profession: I didn’t like the “politics” involved. The every day vying for approval and popularity associated with teenage girls isn’t too far from the workings on Capitol Hill. I found myself distanced from the squabbles and drama of my friends. Rather, I observed the intricacies of the game and learned only to give advice to those within the system.
This analogy might appear trivial, however, I find that this describes the role I play as a journalist today: the proverbial “fly on the wall” if you will. I search for that which needs to be exposed and expose it. I analyze the intricacies of policy, searching to educate people and illuminate the situation.
Another sector of American society that needs to be watched by journalists has emerged in the face of modernity. Yes, once again I am dragging “big businesses” into my debates. This sector didn’t exist in the days of Hamilton and Madison, but had it been the lobbying-superpower that it is today, the two probably would have addressed the issue in their infamous papers.
Enron and Tyco proved to America, if nothing else, that capitalism does not instill ethics in corporations. A secondary check on the power and control of these mega companies is essential. Journalists almost missed the boat with Enron, but eventually they hit the target, sinking the ship. If journalists are to serve the public well, they must investigate both the governmental and businesses sectors.
Perhaps Publius did address the need of a watchdog for corporations in The Federalist Papers Number 57. In an abstract sort of way that pits the haves against the have-nots in a society filled with middle-class workers.
“It is of great importance in a republic not only to guard the society against the oppression of its rulers, but to guard one part of the society against the injustice of the other part. Different interests necessarily exist in different classes of citizens. If a majority be united by a common interest, the rights of the minority will be insecure.”
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