Archive for December 7th, 2005

Reporting in the Balance

Posted December 7, 2005 By Dave Thomer

Josh Marshall at Talking Points Memo has been tracking some press coverage of the legal problems of Republican Congressmen such as Tom DeLay and Duke Cunningham, along with the associated scandals. One thing he has pointed out is that the media seems to be bending over backwards to depict the story as being part of an overall political culture of corruption in which both parties are equally guilty, even when most of the federal cases right now involve Republicans. (Conversely, if you want to talk about corruption in Philadelphia, you have to focus the attention on the local Democratic Party, which has been unchallenged for a long time and shows plenty of signs of bloat.) He mentions today a Washington Post chat in which a reporter acknowledges that sometimes the effort for balance creates its own distortions.

Around the same time, Next Hurrah linked to a very good article in the NY Review of Books about how the emphasis on balance, along with corporate pressure and the overall culture of journalism, keeps the press from challenging the public with information about the powerful and the consequences of their actions. There are a number of good anecdotes in the article, many of which focus on issues like poverty and Iraq. Michael Massig strives for accuracy, but he is clearly concerned with facts that do not paint American society or government in the best of lights. I leave it to you to determine if he is being unfair or if, as Rob Corddry once joked on The Daily Show, the facts on the ground have a bias.

When it comes to the balance issue, I admit that I simultaneously see the problem and want to leap to the press’s defense. Part of that, I think, is an effort at self-defense. When I worked on the campus newspaper at Fordham, the effort to “get both sides” was one of the things that I emphasized when covering news stories. I still clearly remember one story where there was a dispute between another campus publication and the administration (via the student-run budget committee) that resulted in the publication being shut down. The narrow focus of the dispute was whether or not the publication was bringing in enough outside ad revenue to keep it going – the publications had to be somewhat but not entirely self-supporting – and whether enough of an effort was being made to increase that revenue. My reporting and writing pretty much boiled down to interviewing the two sides and presenting their alternate takes on what had happened, filling in some basic context where necessary. I felt at the time that it was the right approach because I didn’t really have the resources at hand to try and verify some of the claims about what had gone on in the past. (The budget cutbacks so many media organizations face today definitely make this a concern for reporters in the field today.) Nor did I have sources who were willing to go on the record and tell me that there was any kind of larger agenda involved – which there probably was, because the administration had long had its problems with the other publication. But I didn’t want to seem like I was gloating over a rival publication’s troubles or trying to kick the administration, so that whole balance thing was definitely in my head when I wrote the article.

I actually just now pulled my copy of that year’s paper off my shelf and reread it. In the narrow context of events, I actually think the strive-for-balance approach worked. The various sides had different perspectives on what was fair and appropriate, and a lot of basic facts weren’t really in dispute. It was more a question of how to interpret them – was the administration/committee being ham-handed or unrealistic in its demands, or was the publication failing to live up to its obligations? So presenting the sides wasn’t a bad thing to do. On the other hand, I did nothing to establish the larger context of the administration’s feud with the publication and raise the question of whether this was some kind of payback. Student leaders at Fordham were a fairly incestuous group – one of the leaders of student government was my editor-in-chief the year after this story ran, and she worked on or ran several other organizations as well. (No way to avoid that, because there were far more positions than people who wanted to fill them.) But as a result we heard plenty of rumors about “what was really going on” – but no one was willing to say anything on the record. Which brings us back to the issue of sources and why cultivating them is so important if reporting is to have any credibility. That cultivation sometimes results in compromises being made and reporters having to sit on information that they have but can’t source or prove. That’s part of the territory, but the sources have to be put to good use rather than being accumulated for their own sake.

Ghosts and Blessings

Posted December 7, 2005 By Dave Thomer

Related to the last post – I’m sitting at my desk with an open can of Coke in each hand, making sure that every one of the four on my desk are empty.

I go upstairs to throw out the cans and see the Holy Ghost newsletter on the table. Then I realize the annual R.E.M. holiday fan club package is also in the mail. This year there’s a DVD, so I grab it and the newsletter and head downstairs again. The DVD has two live performances from a concert in Germany, including a performance of “Turn You Inside-Out,” a song from Green, an album I first started listening to in high school. It feels appropriate.

I’m making my way through the newsletter, checking out the alumni news. One of my old classmates just had a baby. We’re all growing up, that’s for sure.

I start reading a column by Edward Glowienka, an alum from the class of 2000, who’s teaching philosophy at a Spiritan missionary in Tanzania. And I see him telling a story about the late Diane Garforth.

Damn.

I knew Mrs. Garforth had passed away from cancer this past May. I heard about it at the wedding of one of my old friends from the school paper. In retrospect, I think I was so stunned I didn’t feel anything. Tonight I got to the back of the newsletter and saw her picture and read the tribute penned by Mrs. Osborne, my sophomore year homeroom teacher and one of the nicest people that exist on this planet. And now I’m laughing and crying.

Ed’s story was about Mrs. Garforth rejecting a paper he had written, saying that he was capable of better work. And oh, that is so true to who she was. I had her for freshman lit, at a time when Holy Ghost rearranged the order of its periods every day. I can remember the bemused look when I walked into her room at the wrong time. More to the point, I remember how she ripped the first paper I wrote in high school to shreds. She had no patience for anything less than your best effort. But most of the time, you could be sure the high demands were because she cared and because she knew you were up to the task.

I do think that in a lot of ways I disappointed her. She didn’t seem too happy with my interest in journalism, or my fondness for science fiction. I think she saw something more serious and literary-minded in my future. And she definitely didn’t approve of my choice of colleges, something that I felt no small amount of bitterness about. But she was someone I always made sure to see when I visited the school, and she always cared to know how I was doing.

More than anything else, the thing that made Holy Ghost the school that it was is that Mrs. Garforth was far from alone there. So many of those teachers cared, damn it. You could feel it. I could, anyway. And that made such a difference. I wouldn’t be where I am now, I wouldn’t be in front of a classroom at al, if it weren’t for their inspiration. If it weren’t for her, and for so many like her.

So, thank you, Mrs. Garforth. Thank you.