OneJournalist

92,000 government secrets aren't secret any longer

2010-07-28T06:45:00.000-05:00

Something there is that doesn't like secrecy in government.
Democracy. That's what.
Journalism in its moments of freedom can be the strong right arm of government by the people, for the people and of the people.
The other strong arm is a standing army under civilian control.
The result: Conflict, thy name is warrior vs. journalist.
Soldiers have a fundamental right of secrecy to protect their own lives from disclosure of troop movements, tactical strikes before they happen and critical knowledge that would give aid and comfort to an enemy.
Reporters have a fundamental need and right to transmit a broad picture of the battlefield so people will know what their citizen-soldiers are up to and up against.
The proper balance between the competing values of a warring democracy seems intact after a huge test disclosing government secrets from the interminable war in Afghanistan.
We are hearing the predictable screams about lack of patriotism by leakers of secrets.
When values of military good order and the citizen right to know collide, however, you can make a case that it's honorable to publish -- as long as no one gets hurt.
The publication of -- how many? -- 92,000 low-level classified documents from the war in Afghanistan makes me feel better about our balanced freedoms.
The same act must set teeth on edge in the Pentagon.
The price of democracy is bruxism by the generals.
The military-political complex responded to the document disclosure by WikiLeaks in the predictable, quaint way of the past.
"Nothing new...old stuff...threat to national security...could endanger soldiers."
Yeah, well, if the information is obsolete, how can it endanger anyone?
Disclosure provides the Taliban an enemies list, officials say.
Pardon?
You mean to tell me the enemy needs our help to list victims for ambush and assassination and roadside bombs all on its own?
WikiLeaks withheld 15,000 documents until it could redact names of individuals whose lives really could be endangered.
Critics also said the information didn't advance the public debate abut the war. Their point is the benefit didn't outweigh the danger of disclosing stolen secrets.
Actually, we've never had as good a look at the war and the rationale for or against prolonging it still further. That's partly because disclosure coincided with a congressional vote on continued war funding. The leaked secrets proved their worth by that timing alone.
The reporting lacked credibility, another complaint goes, because official sources didn't approve the release of information.
Yeah, well, government never was going to reveal what the leakers did. And Washington itself doesn't enjoy credibility with the people. Too many secrets!
The New York Times, which along with The Guardian in England and Der Spiegel in Germany had a head start on parsing over the secrecy archive, verified information in the trove with its own reporting for the sake of credibility.
Still, a whistle-blowing competitor labeled WikiLeaks an "information vandal."
That's a really nice phrase someone manufactured there. But "information rebel" seems more to the point.
If we're to make our way democratically in this time of information revolution, we'll need more data patriots to do their jobs.
"All governments can benefit from increased scrutiny by the world community, as well as their own people," The Times quotes the WikiLeaks.org website.
"We believe this scrutiny requires information."
War ordinarily demands secrecy.
But Afghanistan is our longest conflict ever without solid purpose, goals or resolution.
We've waged it with both of our good, democratic arms tied behind our back: It's not the people's war they know enough to understand or to support, and their military mightily labors against treacherous allies who aid the furtive enemy on uncertain moral and geophysical terrain.
We've been climbing the Hindu Kush with a backpack full of dead weight and an ammo pouch filled with rocks.
The transparency WikiLeaks and the cooperating news media strive for should actually help the cause by opening the eyes of Americans. Their involvement then could aid the prosecution of the war or hasten withdrawal.
Resolution at last! One way or another.
Quit grinding your teeth, generals. The armed forces are better off either way.
Oh, it's irksome to government for documents to be compromised -- possibly by a PFC under suspicion. A private first class? Really!
Logic inquires who bears the greater blame -- the leaker or the officials who preside over such a readily compromised treasury of secrets.
The degree of official pique over the publication is a measure of Washington's distance from its own democratic roots.
We have a need to know, we the people do. And government has a need for our informed consent of its wars, if conflicts are to be won.
"Beware the fury of an aroused democracy," Gen. Dwight D. Eisenhower warned the Nazis in 1942. Ike presided over the secrecy of D-Day to our great joy and success in World War II. But he knew enough to cultivate media so the home front would fall in step behind the military push.
Freedom feeds on disclosure. Oddly, so does war when waged by a people aroused by information.
The equation of secrecy and disclosure balances itself out in a healthy democracy.

Privacy in Wonderland: We all wonder where it went

2010-07-26T07:54:00.000-05:00

Shirley Sherrod could bring a libel suit against her tormentor.
She suffered loss of reputation. She suffered job loss. She suffered.
The African-American civil servant in the Georgia office of the U.S. Agriculture Department started a perfectly ordinary week in wonderful anonymity.
But she tumbled into the blogosphere as innocently as Alice assailed by a Mad Hatter and the madding crowd of the right wing wonderland.
Then she emerged with an apology from President Obama, a better job offer from Ag Secretary Vilsack and vilification as racist turned on its head into stoic civil-sainthood. She was never the person portrayed by a blogger.
No wonder there's talk of libel.
The whole case presents itself as a study in the politics of vilification abetted by the digital speed of the modern communication mode measured more by moments than calm reason.
Too many tick-tock white rabbits running down too many media holes.
No wonder lawyer talk is out and about.
A defamation court, however, would have to deal with the fact Ms. Sherrod fell into a Georgia privy but emerged sweet-smelling and clutching the reward of a better job offer and notoriety transformed into celebrity. Where is the damage now? A judge must ask.
How much better for her and for us if she were to bring a privacy suit for being dragged unwilling into false light.
The invasion of her right to keep to herself, do her job and control her own destiny suffered permanent harm. She forever will endure indignity as victim-symbol of quick-trigger misinformation.
Tremble, all you who enter the new world of communication. (That's all of us, if you wonder.)
FOX news and its imitators -- collectively a causative factor in the media climate raining rabid cats and mad dogs all over Shirley Sherrod -- long ago cost us any expectation of fairness and accuracy in public affairs reporting.
Truth is no longer an expectation.
The one comfort any of us might retreat into had been the expectation of privacy: If we were not a public person, "they" couldn't get to us.
The experience of a no-longer-private person in government service shows any of us could suffer the same loss of a basic right.
"They" can get to a nameless, faceless bureaucrat. "They" can get to any of us.
And who is "they?" Anyone with an Internet connection and a story to bait media attention.
A judicial ruling to counter privacy invasion would do our New Media society far more good than libel damages, if any.
We are all Alice, tip-toeing through the media mind-field of sinkholes leading to anguish, not tea parties.

Get camera. Make documentary. Be a journalist.

2010-07-19T00:01:00.004-05:00

Documentary film is in.
Reality storytelling is all over HBO, Hulu, Netflix and Redbox.
(What wonderful names we have for our new-style movie distributors! Makes you wonder what would happen if newspapers had catchy names more with the present media age!)
Sundance and filmfests that wish they were Sundance feature documentaries alongside fictional films. The corollary is book publishing where houses are saying new taste turns to non-fiction over fiction.
Narrative non-fiction in book length is some of the best journalism around.
Documentarians who use film to produce journalism deserve the same respect.
Michael Moore, the polemicist filmmaker, doesn't always get a lot of respect because of his ambush interview technique. He gets called names by the executive class of companies and government. They consider themselves his victim more than subject. In truth they make themselves into Moore's camera fodder.
A lot of people chafe under the treatment they get from CBS-TV's "60 Minutes" too. But no denies Morley Safer and Mike Wallace are journalists.
Ken Burns may look like a history documentarian. But his topics -- civil rights, baseball, the national parks -- have an edginess that comes with a point to be made by a journalist.
One weird way to be sure if a media producer is a journalist is to look in federal court.
Joe Berlinger thinks he won a First Amendment ruling on outtakes to his film, "Crude."
Chevron wanted all his unused footage from the documentary about that company's legal fight with Ecuadoreans who allege an oilfield contaminated their water.
Berlinger will have to give up some but not all his film Chevron originally sought from his cutting-room floor. He'll have to meet the legal standard all journalists can face of surrendering material necessary to administer justice in a court of law.
The court by extension established this documentary filmmaker is an investigative journalist as surely as one employed by a newspaper or network in old media days.
Berlinger won the courtroom concession to stand in journalism's ranks by the way he partially won and partially lost the case over what journalists want to think are sacred but are not necessarily -- their notes.
The media industry likes to say it's hard to tell exactly who is a journalist in these new media days. People who believe they control or at least speak for the industry want to control who can be in it.
Like an over-controlling parent, naturally, they are losing control.
With an implied journalism license issued by central-control figures such as media execs and narrow minded journalism practitioners, perhaps not everyone deserves the benefit of the First Amendment, goes that unfortunate logic.
But every citizen does deserve the protection of freedom of expression.
This digital age makes any person with a camera and a computer into a citizen journalist with equal opportunity to be discovered on YouTube if not HBO, Hulu, Netflix and Redbox via Sundance and all the rest.
We all may become documentarians in this ComRev as I call the communication revolution.
In that case we will all be journalists with the same right of free of expression some would reserve only to themselves.
The whole concept sounds as though it would make a good documentary film.
Documentaries are in, you know.

Fill all the shadowlands with public access sunshine

2010-07-13T00:01:00.011-05:00

The export-import trade in First Amendment freedom thrives as an issue, not a sure thing.
Al Cross, director of the Institute for Rural Journalism and Community Issues, went a little beyond his Middle America territory. Al got press and governments in Zambia and Botswana debating the merit of public access to government records.
Funny thing: The Anniston, Ala. schools reporter lamented to me at the same time how handicapped she is by the board of education she covers. Superintendent and elected school officials won't let her see the documents they are working from until after they vote on an issue.
She is unable to alert her online and print audience of the problems under discussion until it's too late.
Her state enacted one of the earliest and best -- on paper -- open records and open meeting laws. She has a supporting attorney general's opinion to wave under the noses of the poobahs of old-school think. Yet the free press values Al Cross promoted in Africa constantly need tending right here all the time, as the education reporter re-discovered.
Maybe Congress shall make no law abridging freedom of expression, as the Bill of Rights states, but local high-pockets work all the time to stymie reporters.
Yes, it's much worse abroad.
As a Fulbright Professor at American University in Bulgaria, I taught journalism in Blagoevgrad at a Stalinist building that previously housed the Communist Party, which was founded on that spot.
My eastern European and near-Asian students included Serbs and Croats, Muslims and Christians from throughout the Balkans and beyond not long after the last war just over the Bulgarian border with Macedonia.
Those journalism students would have loved to struggle against our school board problems instead of contending for their lives in that rough neighborhood.
Tell me I was wrong. The message I taught was to make sure it's worth your own life or personal freedom before you perform American-style journalism in the barely post-communist world as we do in the U.S.
National life is much more what Al Cross had in mind.
He's a friend and colleague. I advise his Institute for Rural Journalism and Community Issues. And we worked together at the old Courier-Journal in Louisville, where Al as chief political writer was always causing the sun to shine in on furtive government and politics.
With an election coming up in Zambia, the current University of Kentucky professor picked the ideal time and the ideal message to propose a U.S.-style Freedom of Information Act.
Not that our FOIA is perfect in every instance of execution.
But it's a good starting point for the ruling-party officials and journalists Al addressed as a guest of the Media Institute of Southern Africa-Botswana.
He was denounced as an outsider, of course, by a lieutenant general who also is the official Zambia spokesperson. That was so expectable as to be ho-hum.
I say there is no "outside" where liberty is concerned.
And Al's message was supported publicly by a leader of the Press Council of Botswana. The gentleman got his point that everyone stands to gain from open records -- not just reporters.
People generally and mistakenly believe press freedom exists only to benefit not average citizens but the relatively few who make their living in media.
Al seems to have spoken over the heads of journalists and public officials to the African public: Plain folk are the ones who always benefit from openness.
That was the whole point of the Alabama education reporter who merely wanted to tell her audience what's going on with the schools they finance for the elected but clandestine school board to run.
Al Cross is a former president of the Society of Professional Journalists. He is quite right to call on American journalists to promote the role of news media in democratic -- and I would add "other" -- societies.
I merely stop short of sending reporters to pointless deaths, Al.
But I am proud to be a part of the freedom export business.
Now, let's talk about importing the value of press access to shadowlands such as the local school board.

Enlightened journalism feeds the soul and the body

2010-07-12T00:00:00.007-05:00

"You don't go into a bar to get sober," said Larry Werner.
He wasn't just a common sense drinker.
Larry surfed the wave of consumer reporting that rose in the 1960s and 70s at enlightened newspapers. He developed the beat for The Courier-Journal, which in those days never saw a rising tide in journalism it didn't want to crest from its Kentucky seaside of distinguished publishing.
The separation between news and advertising at papers sliced through media waters sharper than fins on a surfboard. So it was only natural to create a reporting beat that actually worked against advertiser interests.
Today's media have made an, ahem, accommodation.
Always true has been that journalism enjoyed all the ethics it could afford. As publishers and broadcasters and Internet entrepreneurs quest for an elusive, new business model for themselves, the balance shifts from consumer interests to commercial interests.
Truth in advertising, truth in labeling, truth in contracts used to create targets for consumer reporters who honed in on abusive practices like sharks on a surfer's toes.
Their movement reversed the old caveat emptor into "let the huckster beware."
The spirit is willing in broadcast, print and online newsrooms. But the flesh is weakened along with all beat reporting. The economy, you know. And the com-revolt. It's remaking reporter-made news into audience participation news.
Still, the cycles of media attention (let's not put them down as mere fads, shall we?) still function to expand the topics of journalism.
Food journalists are the new consumer reporters. Not recipe writers. Food journalists. Real food. Real journalism.
And the guy at the top of his form is Michael Pollan, author of five books and the Knight Professor of Journalism at UC Berkeley.
Now, he is a common sense drinker. And eater.
"Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants," is the mantra of Pollan's In Defense of Food, An Eater's Manifesto. (Penguin Books, 2008, ppb., $15).
The way he parses those three ideas in 244 pages creates a stylist's model for journalists in developing their ideas. As in The Omnivore's Dilemma and especially The Botany of Desire, the writer's wit is the sucrose that makes the fiber go down.
And the plain talking trinity of concepts -- true food, not much, mostly plants -- hands everybody a flashlight in the grocery gloom of our plentiful but unhealthful eating habits.
If a package says "nutritional," it probably isn't. If a single serving size could feed a half dozen, let those other six people have it. If processed food is the way you get your veggies, roll your grocery cart over to the produce section or better yet to the local farmers market.
Pollan proves we have industrialized and marketed our food chain until it's wrapped around our obese and diabetic necks. What we eat in the way we eat and in the amount we eat it is killing us.
You can't say, "Listen to your Mom," Pollan warns, because corporatization of our corporeal-ty goes back so far it sucked the old girl in too.
Now, I don't know about you, but I'm turned off by the goody-two-shoes admonitions of consumer-ites about "read your insurance contracts" and "mind your peas" and fast food queues.
I don't need baleful finger-wagging or excited arm-waving.
Give me common sense. Pollan does.
He makes my wife's spinach gently braised in olive oil and tossed with mushrooms and chevre with a nice glass of Cabernet on the side go down smoothly because of -- not in spite of -- his scientific reporting.
News organizations rattle their chains, locked into ethical conflicts of interest with grocery ads and cereal commercials and spots for the food web of restaurants -- scene of our crimes against the nourishment of our own bodies.
So Pollan and other food journalists have an impact in counter-intuitive stories that promote healthful eating. Student journalists show an interest in taking up the cause.
Oh, contrarian journalism looks like a drop in the bucket of greasy fried chicken, reprocessed potatoes layered with hydrogenated fats and 20 secret chemical and synthetic additives.
But the history of movements in media is that crusading journalism works when the facts are right, the message is simple and the warning is commonsense.
You don't go into supermarkets and fast food restaurants to get healthy, you know.

Classic lit for soldiers, football players and journalists

2010-07-09T00:01:00.015-05:00

British boys schools and American military academies assign Homer as must-reading for plebs.
Soft young minds need the bloody joint-crunching of the Trojan War to juice up the impulse to wage war for queen and country or for flag and country.
Classical literature stands as the best military field manual ever written. How violent is the species human. Always has been.
Hand-to-hand combat starts in the mind that transforms what otherwise would be the anti-romantic, organized maiming of enemies into socially acceptable pretense of civility.
War is what Carl von Clausewitz called diplomacy by other means. How politically correct-sounding.
The NFL is gladiator society that will do until we next demonize another foreign enemy and set upon him with spear or pike or bayonet.
We have to be taught to hate, says a line in Rodgers and Hammerstein's South Pacific.
Nah.
We have to be taught to transform hatred into battle and to settle between wars for their somewhat milder alternative, American football.
All the tactics and strategy and attempts to intellectualize the game -- or the battlefield -- cover up the effort to hurt the other guy before he can hurt you.
So I'd simply give freshmen and cadets chapter one of The Blind Side by narrative journalist Michael Lewis.
Journalists should read the passage to see the less banal side of sports and to envy the style of the writer. His timing and controlled release of information condenses the violence of pay-for-view bone-breaking into 12 white-knuckle pages.
They begin: "From the snap of the ball to the snap of of the first bone is closer to four seconds than to five."
And the opening is prelude only -- a back story of how the left tackle position evolved to fend off the bonecrusher Lawrence Taylor and his imitators coming after quarterbacks. By extension the account explains how Michael Oher rose from impoverished obscurity to protect the blind side of his own Achilles every Sunday.
Everyone knows the book, because they saw Oscar-winning Sandra Bullock in the soft and sweet movie.
The flick is good. But the more serious, blood-spurting book is great narrative journalism (W. W. Norton & Co., 2009, ppb., 339 pages, $13.95), the kind that explains what you didn't know enough to ask about.
Oh, the ancient Homer is stick-to-the-ribs more filling as a writer.
But for bustin' up those ribs and teaching soldiers to soldier and players to play and writers to narrate, Michael Lewis produces a modern classic in war, uh, ahem, sports journalism

Bias behind the gusher in the Gulf is the people's call

2010-07-08T00:01:00.005-05:00

Look out for the language. The spoken tongue ends in a sharp point.
Listen to what we call the environmental catastrophe of our time.
We might have had "The Gulf Oil Spill."
Or we could have named it "The Deepwater Horizon Spill."
I'm wistful about "The Dick Cheney Oil De-reg Spill."
Based on a recent book, there's the "Why We Hate Oil Companies Spill."
But the judge-and-jury vernacular favors "The BP Oil Spill" over alternative, generalized, non-directed names.
Why raise the issue? Because with the name goes the liability. All of it.
Other terms recede. Increasingly the company that bears the blame also bears the label like a smear of crude.
You can't merely and evenhandedly suggest BP "may" be the responsible party, because British Petroleum lends its name to reckless ir-responsibility. That pointedly is as mild as descriptions get.
So "BP Oil Spill" pronounces accusation like an indictment from a grand jury composed of the whole country.
Lawyers will coat those waters like a five-state oil slick the BP Spill has become.
Court cases aplenty will try to escape spending the last farthing on clean-up.
PR image manipulators will try to convince reporters to find an alternative to the virtual trademark with its informal corporate logo, the oil-covered pelican.
Media will profess lack of bias.
But there is a prejudice, undeniably. The public made up its mind and rendered a verdict journalism conveys in what we call this disaster: "The BP Oil Spill."
It's not merely a plain and simple accident. Not an industry mishap. Not a failure by the consortium at the wellhead. Not the fault of negligent regulators -- although ironically it's all those things too.
"The BP Oil Spill." That's what it is.
The people speak.

The untold story of this GD economy

2010-07-07T07:26:00.001-05:00

The first rough-draft of history can't read the picture of our times.
You didn't have to live through the Great Depression to write a chronicle of repetition.
First there was the financial crisis as President Obama entered office. And by "crisis" I don't mean a market downturn. The system failed. Completely.
As in 1929 we were so-o-o-o close to losing the nation.
The Hoover-like Bush-Cheney administration set us up: Regulation went big bye-bye, tax policy transformed surplus into deficit with the rich getting richer and the rest getting poorer and the oil industry, the most subsidized business in America, received corporate freedom to slash and burn for profit -- greed in the name of capitalism.
Hoover lives!
The new administration strives mightily in the Spirit of FDR. But the White House is up against the same throwback forces that made the GD (Great Depression) economy worse than it had to be.
Republican Party and Libertarian ideology prevail to prevent stimulus spending.
The one time a government should spend money it doesn't have is during an economy as slow to move as a politician in an election year.
But the conservatives who want Obama and Democrats out for partisan reasons are saving our way into deeper financial disaster.
It all happened before. We never learn.
No wonder this emotional nation feels a world class downer of frustration trending to grief -- the blues, a second, essential, psychological part of an economic depression.
Element three is the reflection in nature.
The 1930s had the Dust Bowl.
We have the BP Oil Spill.
Don't you dare dismiss the Gulf crisis as a regional problem. The biblical plague of our times trashes lives, finances and well-being directly or indirectly in a threat to life as we know it from sea to shining.
The impact may be less obvious in circles farther from the epicenter. But energy policy, environmental policy, economic policy, public policy, political palaver will all reflect the humanitarian catastrophe.
Americans who don't have out-of-pocket losses nevertheless will experience a looser grip on nationhood.
Black humor, itself an oil pun, may chortle about high-test seafood but is really a cry from the heart.
That's Great Depression material.
How amazing journalism hasn't pieced the picture together.
Too busy covering press conferences, placing anchors on oily beaches and covering the trivia of a BP executive's yacht race and other PR gaffes.
Charter boat captains, coastal politicians and washaterias for pelicans get some coverage.
Yet no one covering the Fed in Washington, the markets in New York or the boom shortage in Biloxi has taken the holistic view of economic life from shore to board room to living room.
Maybe when the out-migration of Gulfies matches the Grapes of Wrath era of Okies we'll see the Dorothea Lange images and the John Steinbeck narratives and the Arthur M. Schlesinger, Jr. reminders of the cycles of history in endless repetition.
Artists and historians again will have to compensate for journalism's failure. Another missed opportunity.
And that's too GD bad.

Bitter pills and magazine journalism

2010-07-05T00:01:00.005-05:00

Maybe it's not the most popular thing to say. Heck, I'll say it anyway.
I actually like The Economist.
I emerge bleary from its Brit grayness -- or is it greyness? -- as though from a Treasury, State Department, White House, Downing Street briefing.
Not every college course entertained me. That doesn't mean I didn't learn.
Oh, it's a slog between witticisms that are British journalism.
But The Economist falls into a class of media with PBS's The News Hour, world's most boring broadcast.
Yeah, I'm hopeless. I watch Jim Lehrer and his gang for the same reason I read The Economist. After the superficial news treatment on the commercial networks, I need some depth to balance the froth.
I don't need any more of the News Hour-Economist's sugarless medicine, however.
So when Newsweek went to a quasi-Economist makeover, I missed the fun, the elan, the immediacy of the old book I had read and enjoyed since before Ben Bradlee left it to run The Washington Post.
The magazine reformulation didn't work for me nor apparently for a lot of others.
And more bad luck: The recent remake of Newsweek hit newsstands along with the economic downturn.
I hate that.
Yet I love a national newspaper that comes out once a week -- one description of Newsweek's former personality.
It's a tough formula. Years ago a weekly, newsprint, full-size National Observer went broke trying the prescription.
See here, though: Features editors at lots of daily newspapers reverse the method successfully all the time -- publishing a magazine-style section on a daily basis.
What I'm describing is originality, a good fit with the audience and balance between news as info and news as fun.
Media sort themselves out according to the right set of ingredients all the time.
The apothecaries at Newsweek simply didn't get the mix right. I think it was too imitative of The Economist. One of those is enough.
So now Newsweek's bitter pill to swallow is named Doomsday. The magazine will be sold or closed.
No publication wants a dose of imitating that.

Who stole my holiday?!?

2010-07-03T00:01:00.007-05:00

Anyone can be an editor or producer when news breaks.
The trick is to communicate brilliantly when there is no news. As on holidays.
NBC's Today Show broadcast a brief but pretty good report Friday before the long weekend about the impending Independence Day amid a depressing economy.
Matt Lauer, a good interviewer any day, had a really eye-opening conversation with the equally good Maria Bartiromo, the CNBC economic head-turner.
Now, if only we'll see and hear lots of follow-up in depth.
More likely the Marine band and news stale-from-the-can will parade across screen and newspaper page.
Put enough features in City Desk hold files and the TV video bank, and everyone can have a nice holiday.
Judge by Matt and Maria's interview: Many Americans without work, without a mortgage payment, without good retirement prospects and with BP oil lapping at their security or with health and other bills weighing on their minds are going to have a not-so-nice Fourth of July.
So why wouldn't journalists work longer, harder to report the national misery index doesn't take a holiday.
If terrorists or tornadoes attack, every newsperson will rush in from picnic and park to cover the disaster.
Why don't media work during the slow-motion catastrophe of this holiday in the dumps?
What's with the cancellation of all those municipal fireworks shows?
How come we're actually glad the markets are closed so they can't plummet farther?
Where's the hopefulness without hype out of state and national capitals and city halls?
So many questions. So little time.
Journalism should never take a holiday.

Excuse me! I seem to have misplaced my guillotine.

2010-07-02T00:01:00.017-05:00

Remember the media panic when this communication revolution began?
The bloggers are coming! The bloggers are coming!
Well, it turned out to be less of a quick-hit rebellion and more of an extended Reign of Terror for conventional publishers.
Eat any cake lately, Marie?
Now the first wave of attack is fading.
Nielsen and others report a significant decline in blog traffic, according to The Economist.
Twitter and Facebook are up substantially, however. So don't harbor any wistful dreams of a return to legacy media.
Thank you BTW for coming to my own blog for this information and commentary. Better than bakery goods, I say, Your Highness!
Look here, the rebels' underlying cause remains the same: People and especially the youth demographic prefer to publish information and exchange comments at little if any expense, at a time of their own choosing and in a manner of their personal convenience such as with a cell phone.
Maybe the iPad will grandly unify the multimedia experience. More likely, we're going to experiment quite a bit more for quite a while longer.
The Economist points out the geopolitical significance of the Internet in real civil unrest such as Iran's.
There's more to going online than sex texting.
So we're not going back. The com-revolt is real. It's here to stay.
And the biggest evidence is the evolution to new forms and their globalization of ideas about freedom.
That's exactly what happens in a revolution

The streetcar that carried the general away

2010-07-01T07:43:00.007-05:00

We journalists are Blanche DuBois, forever depending on the kindness of strangers.

People figure no public official will ever follow Gen. Stanley McChrystal's model of allowing a reporter into his candid inner circle. The general ended up fired for his barracks room candor.

Yet I believe journalistic history will repeat itself. Often. Like Blanche's signature line from A Streetcar Named Desire.

Kindness is another way of expressing openness or even naivete.

We haven't seen the end of opening up, even or especially by star-encrusted bravado.

And the public will be the better for it -- as always.

The career mistake of Gen. McChrystal turned into his ultimate service to the nation: Government and public both refocused on the war in Afghanistan, which we are losing or at least not winning.

Miss DuBois will return. We share her perpetual dependency on strangers.

The literary metaphor of Tennessee Williams's character in his 1947 play strikes my mind like a controlled nuclear event.

Blanche's nemesis was another Stanley -- the brutish Kowalski, antithesis of her dowdy, loopy world view and romanticism that drew out the beast in Stanley.

Excuse me, Gen. McChrystal, have you read the play?

The Rolling Stone writer Michael Hastings, who did the live-in interview with McChrystal, might not remind anyone of a DuBois or of the southern playwright who wrote Streetcar.

Yet the reporter and the general acted out the archetypes of clash between brutishness and soft persistence that spin off beneficial journalism like a newly discovered molecule from an atom smasher named Desire.

Oh, yes. Journalism will replicate the explosion, because that's what journalism does.

Not too fond a farewell for Helen and Larry

2010-06-30T12:57:00.005-05:00

Am I the only one in America who thinks it's perfectly okay for Larry King to sit at home instead of sitting on his set at CNN?

I have nothing against the gentleman.

But I have nothing especially for him either.

He's not a journalist. He's a habit.

And let's don't confuse the status of endurance with national icon. Larry King is no Cronkite or even a Brokaw.

He simply spent a long time in TV. He talked with a lot of people. Isn't that nice?

Nancy Reagan called him on the air to say she'd miss him. Sweet. They threw on-air kisses to each other.

At least he's going out on his own terms, although with declining popularity.

That's better for him than Helen Thomas's hasty retirement amid catcalls for something she said.

It's hard to imagine Larry King saying anything that could offend in that degree. But I almost wish he would go out in rage rather than smoochiness with any former First Lady.

Oh, I'm not saying a journalist is not a journalist unless he or she is a contrarian. That didn't work for Ms. Thomas, the fixture at the White House.

But I am saying journalism and journalists ought to reinvent themselves several times before we let them get away from us.

Fifty years in a Executive Branch briefing chair with your name on it and 50,000 broadcast interviews are exercises in longevity, not in themselves evidence of journalistic contribution.

Goodbye, Helen! Goodbye, Larry!

It was nice to know you.

Yet not so nice we can't let you slip away so the innovators can take your places.

Writers take note of desperate times when government becomes noble and necessary

2009-02-19T11:59:00.004-06:00

The Forgotten Man, A New History of the Great Depression By Amity Shlaes; Harper, New York, 2008, 468 pages, $15.95.

Granddaddy fell off a two-story house and broke both feet in the Depression.
It was the era of The Forgotten Man. Before workmen's comp. Before Social Security. Before government cared about occupational safety or about family or, really, about the common man — grandfather or not.
The natural wisdom of Americans elected a leader in 1932 for the most desperate of times. They chose a government to preserve ordinary, everyday folk.
We're testing the limits of economic endurance again today.
Back then no one held the safety net for my Grandpa Jay. He was a big, loving-in-his-own-way, rough-laughing workingman in the tough prairie town of Lawton, Okla. Frontier rules still prevailed — make your own way.
Buffalo nibbled grass around ruts left by horse caissons out on Fort Sill. If it hadn't been for the artillery garrison, the U.S. government would have had no presence at all in my grandparents' lives.
Military demand for housing gave granddaddy work as a housepainter — until he couldn't climb a ladder. Yet he was the sole support of a wife and three school children of his own and two others taken in from family down on their luck.
Grandma Essie had spooned the last cornmeal into the cast iron skillet. Her children were going hungry.
What happened next was the defining story of my family. Manna fell from heaven. Well, potatoes actually.
My Daddy was tall and skinny but didn't miss a stride as he scooped up the bulging, burlap bag on the railroad siding as though he was paid to unload the boxcar.
You do what you have to do for family, when you literally are "The Forgotten Man."
The original use of the phrase meant the worker who never went on the dole. The person struggled but somehow made it with no more help than a providential sack of spuds the Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe never would miss anyway.
Franklin Delano Roosevelt picked the name up like stolen taters for his presidential campaign to use about every common American. God love them, heaven made so many who needed a handout or a hand up.
FDR's brain trust got to work. The president's and wife Eleanor's skillful use of media cranked up. And the specter of a nation going under created a social experiment out of every working class American, forgotten no more.
The Amity Shlaes account is revisionist history — not original, but well-told: The line has it that FDR didn't end the Great Depression with the New Deal; that his anti-business vigor and monetary policy vacillation made things worse; and that only World War II ended the country's worst downturn ever.
The trouble with her view is the nation did sense a rescue mission and regain hope as a result. The government sun did come up again every day. The light around FDR's jaunty visage and sparky effort did counter the dark economy.
The vigor of Roosevelt's government dispelled even fear itself. His fireside chats made the White House a comfortable home for the nation to visit on the air. Lasting institutions such as deposit insurance reformed and protected banking.
Shlaes is right to remind us government can get in the way as FDR's did, creating a depression within the Depression. She is right about politics too easily diverting public works spending from its mission to rebuild the economy. And she is right that government takes steps in a national emergency we don't want from it all the time —— such as the current nationalization of industries.
But heroic measures electrified rural America. Americans went to work building roads and bridges and schools. Government organized writers and artists to make us sensitive to the desperate times, represented by Dorothea Lange's photograph of a migrant mother.
Those were noble and necessary acts of government we should not forget.
To say otherwise is like telling President-elect Barack Obama to stay in Chicago. Yet our once again fearful nation counts on him to avoid another Great Depression in the unforgettable FDR-style.
Sometimes you just have to scoop up the potatoes.

Sketches of grandeur: Why journalists should dip into Middle Earth and other fantasy literature to come down to this earth

2009-02-19T11:58:00.000-06:00

The Children of Húrin  By J. R. R. Tolkien with illustrations by Alan Lee; Houghton Mifflin, Boston, 2008 pbk. edition, 313 pages, $14.95.

We have an Ent living in our meadow.
Why not?
We are of the generation who popularized J. R. R. Tolkien in this land. We read The Hobbit to our children. We gave them The Lord of the Rings trilogy when they were ready.
Why wouldn't one of the ancient race of walking, talking tree giants take up residence with us?
Fantasy is serious business. Even for journalists. Lighten up, gang. You'll be more conversant with real people.

There's the Hollywood version of fantasy. But even bigger are the motion pictures of the mind that inspire us, steady us between good and evil on our personal quests and endear otherworld creatures to us as a comfort of the imagination.
Middle-earth is far less comfortable since the passing of Tolkien and the co-opting of his creation by movie moguls and the electronic gaming set who owe their pastime to literary fantasy.
So posthumous works by the master become bestsellers. His son Christopher Tolkien edited the squibs and scraps and notes that became The Children of Húrin.
You take what you can get. Isn't endurance the message of Middle-earth?
This is a dark and bloody work without much redemption, though. It's like sitting down to Shakespeare's Hamlet, which is at least majestic in its cosmic tragedy, and discovering you picked up the grisly Titus Andronicus by earthbound error.
First you wade through genealogies and set-up. Think of all the begats in the Bible. Or the penance Tolstoy exacts before getting you to the action in War and Peace.
At last you strike storyline like a vein of gold. But the ore plays out when Morgoth, the First Dark Lord, captures Húrin to crush the hero's spirit of rebellion in the First Age.
So attention shifts to the nobleman's children, Túrin and his sister Niënor. But they live lives of unquiet desperation, dismay and disaster that lead ever downward.
Finally comes closing confrontation with Glaurung, the worm-dragon of fire sent to fulfill hellish curse.
Just another day at the office in Middle-earth. Or perhaps where you work.
Túrin is no Ranger destined for the kingly triumph of the later works. His sister is no princess royal. Not yet on scene are Bilbo Baggins or Gandalf the Grey and, of course, Treebeard the Ent living in the woods of Fangorn during the Third Age of Tolkien's more popular works.
His son and literary executor opened a view into his father's mind as it sorted out the world that would become the Hobbit's and ours by extension. It's like seeing Michelangelo's chalky sketches for the Sistine Chapel instead of the finished work.
Read it to see how the grandeur came to be.
How grand?
Ask any of us who have an Ent living in our meadow.

Journalists love to find the special places, such as going to France in our deepest South

2009-02-19T11:50:00.001-06:00

Poor Man's Provence — Finding Myself in Cajun Louisiana By Rheta Grimsley Johnson, New South Books, 2008, 221 pages, $23.95

Crawfish. Always the crawfish. And zydeco music, which is different from Cajun.
It's all special.
The language too, which is regionally accented English for us outsiders. Among the residents of 22 parishes — one-third of the state — however, the lingua franca really is Franca, except you'd hear the distinctive patois more often in similarly rural Provençal France than in urban Paris.
Cigarettes hang from lips like cantilevered bridges to Acadiana, named after the French Canadian exiles of the Maritime Provinces who settled this corner of the American South in the 18th century.
So much makes the cultural landscape so special. So much provokes fascination.
Along with the houseboats and pirogues. And gumbo, étoufée and boudin — that rice dressing stuffed in pork casings. And tiny, juicy little round satsumas that give oranges a good name.
And the lilting mon cher and mais oui that sound like a verbal two-step version of the breakfast dance steps we bravely tried after Bloody Maries, garnished with pickled green beans alongside early morning whisky shots for braver dancers in an antebellum cotton warehouse turned hotel turned cultural icon in downtown Breaux Bridge — "Crawfish Capital of the World" — which you'd call quaint except such trite adjectives sound too touristy and you'd rather project something better for this c'est la vie Brigadoon of lower Louisiana.
Down the road is the Tabasco-famous McIlhenny Island, actually a salt dome in the distinctive oil and mineral rich Louisiana coastline. Up the road is Angola, the infamous prison and site of a legendary inmate rodeo. And over yonder a piece, past the drive-thru margarita bars and truck stop casinos, is Lafayette, home of the possibly misnamed Ragin' Cajuns at a laid back university that works just enough to keep the music, language and cultural treasures on life support in America's bubbling social pot of jambalaya.
Just over the 20 miles of causeway on an Interstate west out of New Orleans and past Baton Rouge and through the visually lyrical Atchafalaya Swamp — pronounced "Ah-CHA-fah-lie-a"— which is the largest tract of forested wetland in the Mississippi River Alluvial Plain, is the heart of this most distinct of French outposts.
There lies Henderson, a town so truck-on-cinder-blocks homely that Rheta Grimsley Johnson finds it charming enough in reverse to make it a second home. She and her husband are Alabama-Mississippi-Georgia journalists, and her book of Cajun discovery actually is a collection of newspaper columns.
Frankly they are poorly gathered and edited for continuity and seamless reading compared to most narrative journalism. But she's a good and familiar Southern writer, introduced in a foreword by the NPR-famous storyteller Bailey White.
If the jammed-up collection is flawed, well, "What the hell!" would be the attitude down on the Bayou Teche. You oughta read this book to satisfy curiosity, they'd say on the levee, not for great literature. Get yourself another beer, Thibodeaux! Slice off a piece of that deep-fat-fried turducken, Boudreaux!
For me it's a matter of learning about this place our son recently moved to with his family, including our first grandbaby, to be embraced by warm-hearted folk with names right out of the original Provence.
Cajuns never meet an infant they don't love, turns out, calling them "cha" with a preciousness from the French cher.
That's enough to make me love their special place even without a Bloody Marie. Even without crawfish.

This news is not exactly just in: The latest word in the trees is all about this good earth

2009-02-19T11:30:00.001-06:00

The Green Bible HarperCollins, New York; 2008; 1,311 pp.

Earth is a Holy Bible. Her trees are the chapters, each leaf a page of scripture. Water is living theology. And every breath of air is a reminder of the love of God who made us.
I speak no idolatry.
Symbiosis is the biological term for two living organisms so entwined with one another they become one. There's no separating creation from the holy word.
The Green Bible affirms that simple truth. Journalists, who love the truth, should be at least a little familiar with scripture.

This green version in this age of ecology gives them a reason to delve regardless of religious skepticism.
Curiosity after a change in family lifestyle sent me to the environment-friendly New Revised Standard Version published last year. The cotton-linen cover over recycled paper, soy-based ink and water-based coating is stamped with a spreading oak.
My wife and dog and I moved out to the edge of town for the acreage, for the semi-rural peace, for the trees. Always the trees.
They make me wonder why many religious folk cannot see their mission to renew, refresh, rehabilitate the planet.
God created humankind in his image, turned creation over and asked us to be good caretakers. From that start of civilization, we have God's very own word — this is the good earth (Genesis 1:31): "God saw everything that he had made, and indeed, it was very good."
A lot went wrong.
We live now in environmental crisis. You may count the ways for yourself, unless you live in denial as even some churchgoers do.
The solution lies with us. God swore off interference when he promised Noah he wouldn't send another flood. Damage to the planet comes from humankind.
People of the earth will reclaim our eternal stewardship one family at a time and one society at a time.
At our new house we built a compost bin before we moved in. A kitchen pail collects all the green-making stuff.
Sunday's ritual is a trip to recycle newspaper, plastic and cardboard collected all week in garage bins.
Energy efficient light fixtures brighten the house. The thermostat stays on a moderate setting. Brrrrrr. Cars are high mileage.
Blessed with trees, we planted more — an entire orchard.
The garden fed us all summer. We give away preserved food. And we contributed a squash casserole from our plenty when we sat down to a potluck Thanksgiving with friends.
But I'm brought up short by a quote from then-President-elect Barack Obama. We're not going to save the planet just by changing light fixtures, he said.
We need community change on a continental scale to meet our spiritual duty to God's good earth. Science matters, as Al Gore reminds us, but equally comes faith.
The Green Bible can inspire the movement person-by-person, congregation-by-congregation. Clearly it's designed for individual study and Sunday school, temple and parish hall study groups.
Evangelical, Roman Catholic, mainline Protestant, Jewish thinkers and ministers, ethical scientists — all have essays between those ecologically correct covers, including useful concordances, study guides and proposed action plans for discussion.
My favorite section — besides the Bible text itself with pertinent passages literally printed in green — is a collection of short "Teachings on Creation through the Ages." The compiler of quotes and aphorisms is J. Matthew Sleeth, M.D. He reminds us of the great commissioning when Jesus last spoke to his disciples (Mark 16:15): "Go into all the world and proclaim the good news to the whole creation."
There's material aplenty for a church revival themed on earth and grace. There's need aplenty for another historic Great Awakening in America and beyond.
I'd let the trees preach. And harmonize. As in Psalm 96: "Then shall all the trees of the forest sing for joy."
The tree of life in the midst of the garden is the religious symbol at the center of our being. It is the spine that keeps us erect, the dream we share with Nebuchadnezzar of reaching to heaven, the story we believe of life everlasting despite the crucifixion of a worker with wood and with our world soul on, of all things, a tree.
The tree of life opens The Green Bible in Genesis 2:9 and closes it in Revelation 22:2 — "And the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations."
I can't speak for others who see the need for saving the planet. But as for me and mine, we listen when we hear the trees call us to grace.

Ever on Sunday: Talk shows are not immune from the expectation of good journalism

2008-11-17T06:00:00.003-06:00

It is simply good journalism to give viewers relevant

background about a news source before awarding

that talking head access to the national ear.

Sunday is the day of rest. But if you're gonna do journalism, you darn well can stir yourself to do it right. That means background, perspective, needed information to parse what those guest talking heads are saying on the talk shows.

First it was NBC's Meet the Press with Tom Brokaw as host. Then it was CBS's Face the Nation with Bob Schieffer. Finally it was a replay by CNN's Wolf Blitzer with "the last word in Sunday talk."

All brought U.S. Sen. Richard Shelby, R-Ala., onto their languid, day-of-rest airtime to oppose a bailout for the Big 3 automakers in Detroit. None of the talk show hosts apparently did their homework about the ax-grinding Mr. Shelby.

Maybe the senator is right. Maybe he's wrong. It's an important national debate regardless.

So is knowing that Sen. Shelby represents the state that calls itself the "New Detroit" with a foreign accent thicker than his Southern drawl.

Shelby's home base is Tuscaloosa, Ala. –– just up the road a piece from the new Mercedes M Class plant.

Follow Interstate 20 east past Birmingham, and you come upon the Honda plant for Odyssey and its other vehicles manufactured in Lincoln, Ala.

Or turn south onto Interstate 65 to see the new Hyundai plant outside Montgomery.

Cruise those Interstate corridors for the supply firms, the sub-contractors and enhanced dealer showrooms that complete the Dixie-Detroit manufacturing base that would benefit from a decline in the economic prospects of the original car-building capital.

Alabama achieved its status by opposing union work forces with Right to Work Laws and providing generous financial bonuses to the overseas carmakers for locating inside its borders.

Is Sen. Shelby so parochial as to adopt a position just to protect, enhance and extend his own state's economy? Well, let's save that discussion for a day when we also want to decide whether the pope is a Roman Catholic.

But I'll do what the network journalists did not: I will divulge in fairness that Shelby is being consistent with his opposition to bailouts generally and voted against the original $700 billion legislation to come to the aid of Wall Street.

I am not, however, debating his consistency.

I am declaring it is simply good journalism to give viewers relevant background about a news source before awarding that talking head access to the national ear.

At stake is the franchise for the whole Sunday morning talk phenomenon.

They can pull media's leg until it falls off

2008-11-14T06:00:00.002-06:00

Every bunko artist counts

on the victim to help make the con.

The hoax as a media phenomenon has been around a long time.

Damn MSNBC for falling for an election campaign scam. But don’t guilt the cable guys into thinking such things have never been done before.
A guy came into a newsroom where I once worked. He had some highly credible story. It relied on every newspaper’s drive to break a big news story.
In other words our own newshound tendency outweighed the actual facts.
Every bunko artist counts on the victim to help make the con.
His tale relied on him and him alone. He nimbly turned aside every attempt to identify someone who could collaborate. But we could trust him, he said, and wasn’t he standing right there in front of us?
He’d even be willing to stay in town — at our expense — until we published the expose. That way we could hold him accountable.
Asking for financial backing of course was his undoing.
All I had to do was Xerox his fake driver license and fax it to “the authorities,” I told him. That convinced our confidence man to skedaddle.
Election facts and myths flew helter-skelter before the Barack Obama election punctuated it all. A blog and false identity were behind a wavelet of deception about Alaska Gov. Sarah Palin. She supposedly didn’t know Africa is a continent, according to a claimed leak inside the John McCain presidential camp.
When so much was being said bizarrely and so much being supposed imaginatively about the VP candidate to nowhere, you can palpably feel the drive to go on air without verification.
The New York Times parsed the fraud ever so gingerly a week later. The Times wasn’t so absolutely sure the explanation of the prank wasn’t a deception too. Remember the old Mad Magazine’s spy vs. spy?
If it’s to be believed, two “obscure filmmakers,” the newspaper said, concocted the ruse with a Web site connected to a fictitious think tank.
The tricksters earlier had gulled The New Republic and The Los Angeles Times.
In another exercise in sophomore humor, someone printed a spoof of The New York Times announcing the end of the war in Iraq.
Ask it. You’re already thinking it: Is truth no longer sacred?
Never was. Never will be. That’s the answer to that.
The ruse we have with us always.
The age of the blog, of the hack, of the wannabe triply guarantee it.
Sometimes it’s for laughs. Sometimes it’s for ego. Sometimes it’s for money.
The continental Palin sting was supposed to help pitch a television script concept.
But I suspect there’s something in the head of some people who’d find an excuse to put one over on media types anyway.
We’re asking for it all the time. Because we value an exclusive break on a big story more than we do waiting for the driver i.d. on the swindler to show up bogus.
The only antidote to the practical joke is fact checking every item broadcast, published and digitalized.
Do I think the media will adopt the absolute cure absolutely?
Nope. That you can bank on.

A license to dance

2008-11-12T06:00:00.001-06:00

Sophisticated dancers who glide in smooth, fluid syncopation vs. the jerky helter-skelter of pelvic thrusts and flaunted attitude by the newcomers and outliers.

The First Amendment makes a lovely invitation to the journalism ball.

Ask any dancer in the professional news business.
Trouble is, that same person can be a positive busybody about anyone else’s call to be a self-styled journalist.
I’m a constitutional purist about free expression, declared retired Washington Post Executive Editor Leonard Downie last week. He said government shouldn’t license journalists.
But it was no more than a few minutes later in his speech at the Nieman Foundation for Journalists at Harvard. Downie said Lou Dobbs shouldn’t be allowed to broadcast his CNN news program because of his notorious stand against immigration.
Time and again prominent news executives do this two-step. No one can tell them how to behave journalistically. But they would deny symbolic licenses to other practitioners.
Hypocrisy trips merrily at a faster pace in the current splintering of the information industry. Print, cable, online and broadcast standards dance to different sheet music in which a main step is finger pointing at the professional practices of other dancers on the floor.
The boogie beat of citizen journalism especially drives the foxtrot crowd of mainstream media into digital harrumph.
Look, it’s like this: Journalism is either free of interference or it isn’t.
I prefer free.
If you enforce standards of practice for the street dancers, you have to do the same in the ornate ballrooms of news too.
It happens that quite a few amateurs trip themselves up in their own private Roselands. That stumblebum effect is supposed to lower the public’s opinion of all journalists. Such bad ethics shouldn’t be allowed, sniff the slow-dancers.
Yes, well, their disdain takes for granted public opinion of journalism could get much lower.
It’s just as likely the public will award the trophy to seasoned, sophisticated dancers who glide in smooth, fluid syncopation vs. the jerky helter-skelter of pelvic thrusts and flaunted attitude by the newcomers and outliers.
The marketplace of public opinion is licenser enough.
Regardless, it doesn’t matter. Not when you play the constitutional music of the law of the land.
You’ve got to open the floor to the trip-foot amateur and the rowdy intruder if they want to go dancing with the stars.

When are the Middle Ages relevant to our own times? When a journalist presents them

2008-11-07T06:00:00.001-06:00

World Without End

A book by Ken Follett

New American Library, 2008, 1,014 pages, $22 paperback

There’s something about the Middle Ages.
Think about our time. Think about their time. You can recognize the people, know them, feel with them.
The peopling inside the literary construction of World Without End, though, is not done with your neat beginning-middle-end storyline. The plot sprawls from England to the Battle of Crecy to Florence and back via Avignon, Chartres and Paris.
Ken Follett is a former journalist with a journalist’s mindset. Journalists should read him even as a writer of fiction.
A storyteller is a storyteller.
He’s an international writer of modern suspense thriller-dillers. Except when he isn’t.
His previous exception is the renowned Pillars of the Earth. That epic sends a wonder-of-the-age cathedral soaring skyward in countryside England during the 12th century, because a prior and his monastery peer wonderfully out from medieval gloom
Religious and most other institutions two centuries later lose the light or can’t yet find their way forward in this sequel.
But a hodgepodge of children in the World grow up around a secret and come into their own by their mature years, each in his or her own way. Well, some do fall by the wayside.
The characters remind you of the All Saints’ Day hymn brightening this time of year: “I sing a song of the saints of God…and one was a doctor, and one was a queen, and one was a shepherdess on the green...and one was a soldier, and one was a priest, and one was slain by a fierce wild beast…for the saints of God are just folk like me, and I mean to be one too.”
Can’t identify with the 14th century? Picture yourself in a Brueghel painting. You see a familiar populated-landscape, not a distant portrait
Fall in line with Chaucer’s pilgrims marching off to Canterbury. You’ll know the way figuratively.
Or share stories while hiding from the plague with Boccaccio’s characters in The Decameron. Even the ribaldry will seem familiar.
Expect to compare the economic threat of our time, the lack of confidence in government and the demand for creative self-reliance.
Examine the peril of infants, the challenges of childhood and the sometime brutishness of old age.
Notice both eras are super-religious and steadfastly profane at the same time. Churches ever seek reformation while the irreligious constantly stimulate a renascence in art, science and trade.
We hold in common our foreign wars, more appealing to heads of state than to us plain folk. Then and now, government can grow overbearing.
And there’s the Black Death, the great antagonist in World Without End. We have AIDS but also cancer, heart disease and diabetes –– more pronounced because of our life span and life habit.
Technology sets us apart from our ancestors, not our daily and mortal lives. Even so the engineering solutions in the cathedral town of Follett’s Knightsbridge inspire us.
At its length this is a lifestyle more than a book. So it should be.
We’re not reading about a distant time, a distant place, a distant folk. We’re experiencing ourselves through a novel.
So easily could we be medieval.

Yes! Okay. Joe's more sure now than before

2008-11-04T11:11:00.007-06:00

Promises to Keep, On Life and Politics
A book by Joe Biden
Random House, 2007, 365 pages

“Are we going to be okay?”
A woman in Dubuque asks Joe Biden the question on all our minds.
He surely has been hearing the country’s anxiety a lot on the campaign trail. Biden is the running mate of Barack Obama on the Democratic presidential ticket leading as the nation goes to vote today.

Say what you will about the always angry, fearful, extended campaigns. They expose our next officeholders to the national mood, the mind of the nation, the emotions we all feel.
But we need a book such as Promises to peer through political feelings into personal poetry within our collective fate. Even so public a figure as Biden otherwise gets eclipsed as a real person by White House elections.
This time around we are united in apprehension but not much else.
Without economic security, we have no national security –– at home or abroad.
Without confidence, we are not America. Not really. Not as we all know and love her.
Sen. Biden’s personal and political autobiography couldn’t come at a better time. Clearly the original intent is support of his own presidential campaign. No matter. We still need to know the heart of the likely next vice president.
It’s sound.
We know this man. Oh, he’s from Delaware, not necessarily the center of our universe.
Still, he’s made of our kind of stuff –– a good student when he applies himself, not a great one. A good thinker with strong feelings, not an arrogant and cold person. A self-made middle class product of genteel poverty, not a rich man’s son.
And he earns our respect for national legislation to support cops and protect women.
He’s the guy who stops Bork-like mistakes on the Supreme Court and green lights good judge nominees.
He’s the conscience behind stopping the Balkan bloodbath. He’s the guy who stands in line with GIs for a turn at a bucket bath in Afghanistan when there’s no running water. He’s the origin of good ideas about bad futures in Iraq.
Joe Biden also is a man of tragedy. Word comes of his first wife’s death and of their daughter’s and of the fearful injuries to two sons in a car wreck while he is not yet sworn in as one of the youngest U.S. Senators ever elected.
He is the survivor of aneurisms.
Politically he is the survivor of his own mistakes, misjudgments and misstatements.
The thing about survivors is not what happens to them or what they do wrong. It’s how they press on, how they learn from their past and –– as with Joe Biden –– how they build a new family life and a fresh public life.
This book’s title is a Robert Frost line ideal for a politician. The next two lines are perfect for a nation pausing in mid-destiny as we are: “And miles to go before I sleep. And miles to go before I sleep.”
Biden poetically reminds us we hold dear the values of compassion, honesty, integrity of thought, generosity, freedom and hope on our national journey.
So the very last words Promises to Keep addresses to us and to the woman in Dubuque is, “We’ll be okay.”

The incurious rush to save mortgages

2008-09-17T06:00:00.001-05:00

Journalism grows slack when it fails to ask questions. . .Its curiosity is like sex – use it or lose it.

What’s the point of journalism, if not to ask questions?
The Media delved into Gov. Sarah Palin’s Alaskan past. Her Republican presidential running mate complained about the background check. And that political tactic now seems stronger than journalistic curiosity.
The reportage wanes as the Palin phenomenon waxes stronger.
Reporters also seem to have used up their quota of inquiry on politics just when we need answers about economic issues..
They need to ask if Americans really want Uncle Sam as a landlord.
The case for Treasury takeover of Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac sure seems compelling.
The Federal National Mortgage Association and the Federal Home Loan Mortgage Corporation are a mess. Heads had to roll along with any other cliché that would clean up the government-sponsored secondary home mortgage market.
We don’t yet know for sure if the debacle in the total pubic and private securitized loan market will bring down the American economy.
So the government had to reform the two federally backed agencies that own half the mortgages in the nation.
But insuring the market is different from owning it.
We have just socialized mortgages in this country.
And the Press is asking fewer questions than about The Bridge to Nowhere that connects falsehood with Gov. Palin’s claim to reform public works.
For decades we’ve resisted socialized medicine.
Even now Sen. John McCain, the GOP presidential candidate, campaigns against letting a federal bureaucrat stand between my doctor and me.
So why would I want a government clerk overseeing where I lay me down to sleep?
That’s neither a conservative nor a liberal question. It’s something sensible for The Press to ask as surrogate for ordinary, everyday folk.
Yes. Something had to be done about Fannie Mae and Freddy Mac. And quick.
The swift and sure government action, however, has the look of forever about it.
Why isn’t there a sunset provision built into the takeover? Then the government could fix the problem and get out of the mortgage business, returning it to private or quasi-private enterprise.
But the business pages and Wall Street programs on TV aren’t asking that question.
Journalism grows slack when it fails to ask questions.
Its curiosity is like sex – use it or lose it.

Words can be a poor path to remembrance

2008-09-15T06:00:00.003-05:00

I’m afraid I don’t know what point the military officer was trying to make.

Symbols communicate better then words.
The barrel-down M-16 topped with helmet and dangling dog tags has become the universal soldier’s memorial.
Add GI boots and a fireman’s helmet and a peace officer’s Smokey Bear hat. You’ve created the War on Terror altar saluted and prayed over and flag-decorated all over the land on Sept. 11
The display is affecting.
I went to a ceremony on a college campus where the ROTC brigade prepared the parade field. So effective were the symbols, silence would have been better than the words that were spoken.
The cadet commander read remarks badly in need of a copyeditor. I wanted to tell him it’s okay for student soldiers to use good grammar.
Then spoke the Army lieutenant colonel who is professor of military science. Nestled among the platitudes was a statement that no foreign power had occupied American soil.
He must not have known about the War of 1812 – its Battle of New Orleans. . . the burning of the White House. . .Dolley Madison.
Francis Scott Key wrote one of our enduring symbols during that war, “The Star-Spangled Banner.” The anthem describes the British naval bombardment of Fort McHenry in Baltimore harbor.
I’d be inclined to include Pancho Villa’s Mexican incursion in the American Southwest as an invasion. Our Gen. John J. “Blackjack” Pershing thought so, sharpening his troops before World War I.
The colonel might have recalled the Japanese invasion of the Aleutian Islands in our era’s World War II.
Or German U-boat forays into our territorial waters.
And Pearl Harbor wasn’t an occupation but might as well have been.
Like our 9/11 it was nation changing.
I’m afraid I don’t know what point the military officer was trying to make.
There’s no shame in being invaded or even occupied – only, perhaps, in failing to repulse.
Actions speak loudly and clearly and unambiguously.
Like symbols.

Narrative journalism can make some sense of humanity's senseless disasters

2008-09-12T06:00:00.002-05:00

F5: Devastation, Survival, and the Most Violent Tornado Outbreak of the Twentieth Century
By Mark Levine
Hyperion, 2007, 307 pp., $25.95

We know storms, we Southerners. Violent weather writes large in family Bibles.
Hurricane Gustav bears down on Breaux Bridge, La. as I write these words. We wait word our son’s family is safe there.
Our storm child once lived through the worst tornado outbreak in memory. He was 18 months old on that date, April 3, 1974 – in Hillsboro, Ala. for his doting grandmother’s birthday.
Today we’re swapping text messages to stay in touch. But 34 years ago I have to wait hours to learn the safety of my child and his mother, visiting the Lawrence County farmhouse she grew up in.
I suffer separation guilt even now, stuck as I was in Washington, D.C. as a correspondent. Finally I learn Granddaddy covers my little family with mattresses and pillows and stands watch as tornadoes dance their deadly hoedown.
Before the twisted ballet finishes 17 hours later, 148 funnels click their heels in 13 states and a province of Canada. Their paths add up to 2,584 miles. The dead number 335 souls, the injured 6,000 people and the damaged property $600 million for 25,000 families.
It all starts over my own family. But the most devastated Alabama region lies just to their north, across the Tennessee River, in Limestone County.
Mark Levine describes the devastation like a novelist. Or with the quality of Sebastian Junger’s Perfect Storm. Or Mark Bowden’s Black Hawk Down. Narrative journalism makes sense of disaster, roughly a Greek derivation for “losing your lucky star,” Levine writes.
He pursues his story of the “superoutbreak” through the memories of survivors: In a moment your life changes. It’s that sudden…You don’t know why it happened to you and not someone else. And since it happened to you, why did you survive it? Others didn’t.
The Alabamians who fill his book are people you know. They are people you care about. They are people of the whole family of humankind, more subject to disaster than we care to think about.
The science of severe weather grounds the narrative, told through the quirky tale of a Japanese physicist, Tatsuya Fujita. As an immigrant to the young science of meteorology in America, “Mr. Tornado” creates our “Richter Scale” for storms. So “F5” means winds above 261 miles per hour on “The Fujita Scale” of intensity.
Fujita determines Limestone suffered “incredible” winds up to 318 mph.
The year 1974, Levine reminds us, produces streaking at the Oscars when The Sting wins. Evel Knievel plans a rocket ride across a mile-wide canyon in Idaho. A French daredevil crosses twin towers of the new World Trade Center on a cable.
It’s odd the author omits the context of legislation the storm system inspires. Since I covered Kentucky issues for The Courier-Journal, I stand in the Oval Office when the also star-crossed President Nixon signs the Disaster Relief Act of 1974.
Louisville took terrible hits from nature’s April 4 attack, backgrounding my story.
My own family stories of storm survival still ground me as a Southerner. As an American. As a human.

There's a simple way to shape political coverage on Oval Office qualifications

2008-09-10T06:00:00.005-05:00

Reporting on and analyzing the skill sets of the two presidential candidates and the two vice-presidential candidates wouldn’t be that hard. First, we’d need journalism to work as smart as politics.

The President ought to be as smart as the cabinet.
Now that’s a proposition The Press could use to focus election year coverage.
No more teen mother angst or fighter pilot claim to superiority or community organizing theory or Delaware do-righteousness.
The person who appoints the heads of our governmental departments should be on a par with them.
Besides selecting the best and the brightest, the Chief Executive then has to monitor and manage and motivate them.
Oh, the President doesn’t have to out-lawyer the Attorney General. But a feel for the Constitution and the rule of law would be nice.
Contrary to GOP candidate John McCain’s emphasis, there’s more to the presidency that serving as commander-in-chief of the Armed Forces.
So it’s not necessary to hold a driver’s license for an aircraft carrier or a permit to carry a howitzer or a flight plan for a stealth bomber.
Sufficient unto the day is the sure and certain knowledge that it’s the duty of every soldier to kill the enemy. The how can be left up to the Secretary of Defense.
What the president needs is the judgment to know when to unleash those dogs of war.
And it’s pretty important to have the analytical ability to maintain our tradition of civilian control of the military.
The Secretary of Agriculture may know a lot about crops and markets. But to carry on a conversation about farmers, the President needs to grasp the nuances. For instance we don’t have food stamps merely to feed the poor. The program is foremost an Ag subsidy program.
The Treasury is not a place we keep money. It’s the control room for keeping the dollar sound despite our debtor nation status.
Interior is not about raping the land but extracting its resources soundly.
Education isn’t about enforcing ideology but planting our seed corn for the smart nation we must be to compete in the world.
Commerce isn’t all census and weights and measures – not when we’re killing off our fisheries and can’t get trade policy to work right.
Labor is about fair pay for fair work instead of this seesaw between the rights of unions vs. the prerogatives of corporations.
And what does the President need to know about the State Department to monitor that Secretary?
This: State is the sum of all the other Departments, because we make our way in the world by projecting our good name with justice, intelligence, respect for full bellies and sound minds, caution against bullies and confidence in a Yankee sensibility about trade and money.
Barack Obama has a good idea about appointing a technology chief for the government. There’s a better claim for making that a Cabinet job compared with Veteran Affairs, which could be folded into the Pentagon.
How alienating toward the future and futurists – every person on the Internet – when McCain patronizingly said he doesn't do computers. His implication was we who appreciate the digital world are eccentric.
Technology actually is a way of making science work for us…of causing the future to happen now…of compensating America in the global prosperity race where others enjoy advantages over us.
That sort of thinking and a keenly organized mind would make the President an equal with any Cabinet.
Reporting on and analyzing the skill sets of the two presidential candidates and the two vice-presidential candidates wouldn’t be that hard.
First, we’d need journalism to work as smart as politics.
It’s always intelligent to elevate the national conversation and to focus.

Political platforms and weather shelters are OK but we need foreign affairs coverage too

2008-09-08T06:00:00.009-05:00

It’s like taking Gov. Sarah Palin at her word that she is Alaska’s Snow White gift to the nation instead of really being as politically pure as the driven slush upon revelation by reporter scrutiny.

The Press should be more like the Pentagon. Russia shows why.
World peace depends just as much on understanding international conflict as shooting the globe up.
Military planners classically prepare to wage two American wars at once with enough assets left to meet a third emergency.
It’s the attention span as much as anything. But our Information Industry can’t meet the same standard.
Well, come to think of it, neither can the admirals and generals. But they at least try in theory.
Media are concentrating on politics. ’Tis the season.
With some effort they also are monitoring the machine gun-like rat-a-tat of ferocious storms strafing from the weather-Atlantic air war.
Yet for a long time journalism has lost sight of the shooting war that never quits giving hell between Israel and the Palestinian people.
Lebanon lies abandoned between bombings.
Iraq may be a success story. But we haven’t looked at it with the critical consideration of what happens to a corner crime scene when the beat cop moves on.
Iran was the subject of much Press speculation about our possible invasion. Too little real reporting is going on now that our government hasn’t pulled that trigger.
Military Intelligence – that cliché of an oxymoron – lacks analysts who can speak Farsi. Media lack sufficient folks who even know adequately the difference between the Persian culture of Iran vs. the Arab rest of the Middle East.
Food, fuel and water shortages portend more resource wars, especially in Africa.
North Korea seems to have backslid – as the preacher would say – on nuclear disarmament. But just try to find a coherent news story explaining independently the American role.
The news consumer is thrown on too much dependence of our own self-serving government for explanations of worldviews, especially in the gaze toward Russia.
That’s the same Administration reinventing the Cold War.
Missiles in Poland, NATO expansion in Eastern Europe, patronizing attitudes toward Russian self-esteem – all got fashioned into a new containment policy.
But the bear doesn’t want to go into that cage. It even got restive, invading Georgian territory that leans toward Moscow anyway.
Now we have Vladimir Putin, the prime minister, and his oddly subordinate president of Russia, looking at the real prize, The Ukraine.
The new czars can cut off gas and oil to Europe on whim as a strategic weapon. That potential is akin to terrorists or rogue states shutting down the flow of Middle Eastern oil through the Straits of Hormuz – a crippling but real potential.
President Bush has made bear trainer threats he can’t enforce, because he has our diplomatic and economic and military assets stretched too thin.
Vice President Cheney castigated Russia from a Tbilisi pulpit on an aid trip as though he were a two-bit Ronald Reagan saying, “Mr. Gorbachev, bring down that wall.”
Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice cut her academic teeth on the Cold War. She quaintly denounced the Russian moves as unacceptable in the 21st Century. Yet it’s her Administration’s leadership that fails to move out of the Reagan era into realistic foreign affairs of this time.
Without intense, systematic, independent reporting and analysis on front page and prime time, those government pronouncements stand unchallenged by the benefits of journalism.
It’s like taking Gov. Sarah Palin at her word that she is Alaska’s Snow White gift to the nation instead of really being as politically pure as the driven slush upon revelation by reporter scrutiny.
Or it’s like depending on the National Weather service as the sole source of hurricane coverage instead of the animated maps, on-scene reports and progress updates by the energized Media.
American foreign affairs deteriorate badly and rapidly while The Media deploy their assets to other stories. The winning presidential candidate is going to have a greater problem than the drain of jobs, housing and affordable fuel.
We’re in for shock about world affairs.
And all because self-imposed cutbacks of resources and interest prevent The Media from providing the independent information democracy needs as much as it needs political platforms and weather shelters.

Wasn't it Ronald Reagan who so famously said, 'There you go again'?

2008-09-05T06:00:00.004-05:00

You can tell when Republicans enter campaign mode.
They make war on The Media.
And they polarize the nation.
The national conversation ought to be about the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan…about the economy, including our oil dependency…and about making us all reverse our feeling the country is headed in the wrong direction.
The rapid response solution is to move assets from Iraq to Afghanistan…stimulate markets for alternative energy…and elect a peace and prosperity government.
But this is a democracy. So let’s talk.
It’s just that it’s hard to talk sensibly when Republicans get on their high horse.
I’d like to be bipartisan with this criticism. But the Karl Rove playbook does put the GOP in a class of its own.
So the national chitchat turned to one teen’s pregnancy, a governor’s tabloid family story and whether it’s okay to talk about an official of either gender taking the kids to High Office.
Simple questions from The Press on behalf of The Voter to understand better Gov. Sarah Palin of Alaska brought down the wrath of the RNC.
Turns out the running mate choice by Sen. John McCain is perfectly capable of fighting for herself.
Her line about lipstick as the only difference between a pit-bull and a hockey mom will go down in the books.
But look what’s not among the serious talking points – our two wars, our greasy economy and the national confidence. Gov. Palin’s personal chutzpa isn’t enough to carry the needed political conversation.
And why did the minions of presidential nominee McCain get bellicose with the Press as a shield against a perfectly natural curiosity about his unusual choice of Gov. Palin?
Because the tactic works.
Network anchors and some other natterers were making nice, singing praises, backing off – after her acceptance speech.
So here we go again, polarized and under threat of a McCain permanent media war instead of doing journalism.

* * *

Any City Hall reporter knows a country club lunch and golf game with the mayor compromises credibility.

Network anchors celebrated a pleasurable birthday over French cuisine in a Manhattan restaurant with John McCain some time back and generally enjoyed the Media Elites' cozy relationship with the senator who would be president.

Jim Rutenberg captured the coziness when he reported in the NYT how dismayed the journalists were by McCain's media attack at the Republicans' convention.
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/09/04/us/politics/04media.html?ex=1378267200&en=96c863317b4350bb&ei=5124&partner=permalink&exprod=permalink

So it was dismaying to to the rest of us to hear Tom Brokaw – NBC-TV's senior pontificator – lavish praise on the presidential nominee's performance moments after McCain's acceptance speech.

Club and tee time can't be far off.

* * *

The Times is getting the political story right.

And sometimes a chart tells it all. One on the front page the day after the GOP convention compared the number of times certain terms were used per 25,000 words there and in the Democratic convention.

Democrats uttered "change" 89 times compared to 33 for Republicans; they said "economy" 32 times vs. the GOP 14; "taxes" was heard 26 times in Denver compared with 46 times in St. Paul; and "reform tripped off Democratic tongues 6 times as opposed to 25 times from Republican mouths.

* * *

Sen. McCain vows to end "partisan rancor."

Well, maybe not.

He wants to reach the moderates that way.

Yet the hard core of his own party lives for Karl Rovian invective.

The running mate being called "Sarah Barricuda" and Rush Limbaugh will do a lot of standing in and mouthing off for the candidate.

But he's inevitably going to have to energize his base on his own.

Post-election, should McCain win, we'll have greater political division and soreness between his White House and an increasingly Democratic Congress.

End rancor? That's a campaign promise for The Press to monitor.

They serve popcorn in the movies. . .So, what would they serve in the Oval Office?

2008-09-03T06:00:00.002-05:00

The movie Juno delights across generational lines: A family copes humorously but seriously when an unwed teen goes through with pregnancy.
Hollywood follows. It doesn’t lead. The film reflects changing social attitudes.
Now life imitates art, imitating life.
The daughter of the Republican pick for vice president is 17 and preggers. She plans to marry the young father but hasn’t yet.
Media and politics alike can leave that script alone.
Fairer game is the selection process Sen. John McCain uses for big decisions such as choosing his running mate – Alaska Gov. Sarah Palin, the teenager’s mom.
The governor enjoys an ultra short but messy resume with the pending investigation of an official firing wrapped around a lurid family problem, her sister’s divorce.
The more limited question is how well the would-be President McCain researched Gov. Palin’s background: Did he simply fall for a fellow political contrarian?
The larger issue is how the man makes all his decisions: Would he be such a dice-thrower in the Oval office?
His autobiography is the self-portrait of a devil-may-care jetfighter pilot, flying on the edge and taking chances without too much attention to rules.
The most dramatic moment of his long, legendary life struck like a surface-to-air missile over Hanoi – literally. His radar and his training both said, “Get outta there,” when a North Vietnam rocket locked onto his aircraft.
McCain gambled he could still drop his payload. He lost, spending the next five years in tortuous captivity.
The story bears a sacred stamp. No one can criticize the split-second decision nor the sacrifice made for flag and country.
But in the longer view of the man, what recurs again and again as a maverick, counter-to-convention thought process does merit scrutiny by The Media as the designated stand-in for The Voter.
Sen. McCain and Gov. Palin live the lives of a Hollywood script.
Now The Press must help us decide if we want to elect a credible president and vice president. Or do we want to spend the next four years inside someone else’s movie.

The winds of GOP politics

2008-09-01T06:00:00.003-05:00

I'D HATE TO BE London, matching Beijing’s show at the Olympics.
I’d hate to be the Republican National Convention, matching the DNC in Denver.
I’d hate to be John McCain, matching Barack Obama’s acceptance speech. That’s like swimming against Michael Phelps.
* * *
THEN THERE'S the George Bush problem. Let us count all the ways and degrees of dislike between the President and Sen. McCain who will be the RNC nominee to succeed him.
Yet somehow they have to share the convention in Minneapolis-St. Paul.
When you read Peter Baker’s NYT Magazine piece “His Final Days,” you feel like McCain should stay in one of the Twin Cities and Bush in the other. http://www.nytimes.com/2008/08/31/magazine/31bush-t.html?ex=1377835200&en=5c7509e2226dd6cc&ei=5124&partner=permalink&exprod=permalink
(It’s curious: The online New York Times changes the headline to “The Final Days,” as though a fastidious copy editor thought better of hinting at the president’s physical mortality and not merely his political demise. That’s a squeamish sensitivity, if so).
McCain doesn’t like wearing the failed Bush presidency around his neck while campaigning against Obama. Bush worries the senator will lose anyway, failing to validate his two terms in office for history.
Baker, who is writing a book on the Bush years, says McCain wonders if the president, who defeated him cruelly in South Carolina for nomination eight years ago, will beat him again due to that legacy.
* * *
BUT WAIT! HERE comes Gustaf.
He’s a terrifying hurricane, landing in a terrorized Gulf Region still crippled by Katrina and the recovery, one of President Bush’s notable failures.
So Bush will stay at his post and perhaps miss the convention where he was expected to make an opening night speech.
Let us not be cynical and say it’s a convenient way for the McCain convention to avoid the Bush problem. And for Bush to avoid his McCain problem.
Willing suspension of disbelief in politics – as in theater – lets us think the president really is needed at the head of relief efforts.
Never mind this is no detail president, that he merely signs disaster declarations with near ceremonial routine and that national concerns never got in the way of his Texas vacations.
* * *
FOR THAT MATTER the whole Republican conclave may be truncated or rewritten around Gustav. Can’t appear to be throwing a party when people are climbing out of the rubble.
A shorty convention might even spare Sen. McCain the comparison between the GOP production and the Beijing style production values of the Democrats.
Chief among the items of disequilibrium will be his choice of Alaska Gov. Sarah Palin as vice-presidential candidate vs. Sen. Obama’s widely hailed selection of Sen. Joe Biden.
If you squint real hard at the governor, you can see her maybe as a possible nominee for Secretary of the Interior. She has natural resources, Native Americans and national parks in her state although only two years in office.
Biden endured the full scrutiny of his own presidential candidacy and a national and foreign policy experience larger than Gov. Palin’s largest state in the Union.
Still, she seemed to be getting a pass from commentators on the first NBC Meet the Press after McCain named her as running mate. The exception was not strictly speaking a journalist but the historian Doris Kearns Goodwin.
(That show sure does miss its late moderator, Tim Russert).
Ms. Goodwin sees the dice throw as dangerous for the ticket, since we look at McCain’s age and wonder if he has picked a successor in office we would pick to be our president.
The media might well ask on behalf of us all if we want a president who shoots craps in the first place.
But the roundtable graciousness on Meet the Press suggests the Republicans may be treated to a journalistic easy ride. Toughness, move over for equanimity.
* * *
SO MAYBE THE Gustaf interlude will cover sins of omission by the Press too.
CNN anchor Anderson Cooper announced he would choose the Gulf over the Twin Cities, when the hurricane hits the region so close to its third anniversary after Katrina.
If an entourage of the Press deserts St. Paul for Gustafland, political reporters will get a similar pass the GOP will enjoy for a scaled down convention.
They won’t have to display the same scrutiny of Gov. Palin as the near hostility shown for instance to Sen. Hillary Rodham Clinton until she acquitted herself so well at the Democrat’s convention.
And they won’t have to display the same skepticism of Sen. McCain they used for Sen. Obama until he gave a soaring acceptance speech watched by more people than watched the opening of the The Games in Beijing.
The Londontown of politics may get a windbreak for everyone concerned.

Our convention-al media

2008-08-29T06:00:00.004-05:00

PEOPLE ALWAYS ASK the editor how many work in the newsroom.
Oh, about half, goes the old joke.
The Columbia Journalism Review’s Justin Peters wrote a cute send-up on the 15,000 reporters at the Democratic National Convention.
Most are wearing bad suits.
A thousand are drunk, which Peters says is as it should be.
Many don’t have credentials, can’t find the credentialing office, are complaining about lack of floor passes and are smugly criticizing others in the media who have no business crowding the place up.
Those are right.
But an exception not mentioned in CJR is Asa Eslocker with his ABC-TV camera crew. Denver police arrested Asa – roughly, it sounded like – and used language not too delicate for the reporter’s ears but not likely to be heard from the DNC podium.
Cops said the network crew was blocking a hotel’s private sidewalk.
ABC said the journalists were looking into corporate lobbyists and wealthy fat cats at the convention.
Oh, what a lovely reason to get busted. Waytago, Asa.

- - -

MANY OF THE convention-going journalists are doing it for funsies, no doubt.
Bloggers had an extraordinary welcome.
But professional news organizations can spend $50,000 a reporter and up covering presidential campaigns. Convention town hotels and bars and restaurants and whatever else can be hidden on expense vouchers eat up a bunch.
So why do it, asks U.S. News & World Report.
Its Whispers column quotes Mark Potts, a media blogger at RecoveringJournalist.com, suggesting the media instead do community journalism – my phrase, not his.
Let Associated Press and the big syndicated news operations blow their dough, says Potts. And spend the money instead on covering city hall or local schools and the like.
Well, I’d spend the money on the presidential campaigns. But I suggest the “community” approach, because that implies relationship journalism.
Make the candidates’ health care platforms a local story. Explain what the two hot wars are doing to the home front. Tell the local economy story in Obama and McCain terms the hometown crowd can feel.
All we need to know about the conventions – except for the odd story an Asa Eslocker might get arrested for – can be seen on the television tube as it happens.
Relating politics to the local media audience — priceless, as the commercial says.

- - -

MARK SALTER wrote books with his and boss’s John McCain’s name on them.
Now he’s writing the senator’s acceptance speech for the Republican presidential nomination.
His muse is Peggy Noonan, the hit speechwriter of the George H. W. Bush presidential years, according to Newsweek.
The McCain candidacy is derivative. It’s based on the ongoing war in Iraq, the tax policies of the current president Bush and the trickle down economy from as far back as Ronald Reagan’s days but as dried up for Americans as Death Valley
Two of Salter’s books with McCain – Hard Call and Faith of My Fathers – are workmanlike, readable prose. But they are not dream-inspired like the two published works of Sen. Barack Obama, the Democratic opponent.
The Republican writing team will need more than the Noonan mojo and the campaign leftovers of past Republican years.

- - -

THIS IS A credentialing society.
We don’t seek education for its own sake. We earn degrees and diplomas to get our ticket punched for entering the middle class mainstream.
The odd result is bored, tired, ennui toward life instead of the genuine liberal arts and sciences joy of discovery about the universe and all that’s in it.
It’s the same with journalists who seek the political convention credential and then sit on it.
They have a nasty habit of reporting in the “here we go again” fashion slouch.
But the unfolding DNC show in Denver – and with any luck the RNC convention to follow – don’t live down to the conventional view of blah-boring.
The aroma of American renewal is in the air.
And any journalist who can’t smell those roses had just as well join the drunks spotted by the CJR observer at the convention.

Who's in control of the political story?

2008-08-27T06:00:00.002-05:00

Media are so embarrassingly easy to manipulate.
Barrack Obama did it just by saying he would announce his veep pick by text message.
He immediately set up anticipation – the key ingredient in sex and politics.
The chase ensued.
An somewhat important announcement took on even greater weight, simply because reporters fell for the old “hard to get” act.
When some outlets – notably CNN – ferreted out the name of Joe Biden in the first hours of Sunday morning, the rooster crowing sounded like sexual conquest.
Why should Sen. Obama care? His campaign collected all those text message addresses and got a little hype over the VP process as a bonus.
Sen. John McCain lost his title of maverick when he got plain old grumpy instead of being the fun old curmudgeon. But his campaign can still draw media attention away from the opposition just by having something cute to say.
So the new Obama press kit tool, according to media columnist David Carr in The New York Times, is to go over the heads of reporters. The Web gives the Democratic campaign direct access, filtering out the press.
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/08/25/business/media/25carr.html?ex=1377316800&en=6c2039e448c46775&ei=5124&partner=permalink&exprod=permalink
There’s an easy remedy: Reporters could start reporting the substance of the electorate’s concerns. That would be jobs, inflation, world peace – you know, everything that gets passed over while political types dance around the fringes of campaign process, rumor and twitter.
Then Obama and McCain both would have to meet the press on the media’s home field advantage.
The press would reclaim its truer role in politics.
And the public wouldn’t see the media at their most embarrassing.

What media mean by Olympian glory and what that says about war and politics

2008-08-25T06:00:00.001-05:00

Russia picked a fitting time for her little national aggression against Georgia – the Olympics.
What two better examples of nationalism run amok can you name than war and The Games?
When the media do their hype of combat to increase patriotic audiences, we call it “yellow journalism.”
Track and field and swim frenzy by reporters and editors and producers deserves as much scorn.
USA Today started the patriotic frenzy with banner headline worry over the “gold mining” on opening day.
CNN closed The Games two weeks later by fretting the USA merely had a higher overall medal count. China won more gold.
No less a legendary sports writer than Grantland Rice reminded us The Great Scorer will come not to write who won or lost but how we played the game.
Nowadays we are derided if we merely admire the lithe, smooth bodies of dedicated athletes doing their best in the global glare to make their athletic mark, any mark.
Nope. Gotta bring home the gold. Or don’t bother
Dorothy Rabinowitz, the Pulitzer Prize winning columnist in The Wall Street Journal, condemned those of us mesmerized by the Olympics for their own value and not for “the national interest.”
She labeled as “Olympics-babble” the view that humanity has a higher standing than nationalism.
That WSJ scold especially chided actor Morgan Freeman for his warmly human Visa ad. Freeman called on us to root for athletes – not for the flag on their backs but “simply because they are human and we are human and that when they succeed, we succeed.”
Only the prophet Isaiah said it better when he pronounced we will study war no more.
The value of the Olympics is to glorify youth in peace instead of deadly conflict. Sports jingoism by the press cheapens The Games into a way to bide time until a real war comes along.
Armed conflict will come soon enough, as Russia proved. One reason is nationalism in the media.
Would I prefer a lack of patriotism? No. I’d prefer real national pride that doesn’t have to prove itself as Russia felt pushed to do in the Caucasus or as USA Today and CNN and Dorothy Rabinowitz measured for us by medals slung around Americans necks.
Now we’re leaving China for the national conventions in our domestic politics, another free fire zone. Politicians and some members of the press in that arena play on our patriotic fear at election time.
Unworthy anxiety forms the real basis for nationalism, not healthy self assurance.
Sen. Barack Obama – the Democrats’ great hope – recognizes our cultural weakness in his autobiographical Dreams from My Father: “Nationalism provided that history, an unambiguous morality tale that was easily communicated and easily grasped.”
We don’t have to think when we operate out of national fervor, only feel. We let the animal out of ourselves.
I’d prefer the media call us to live life gloriously, not revel in human failing by an enemy either at war or at The Games.

Do read John McCain and Barack Obama for citizenship, for journalism, for uplift

2008-08-22T06:00:00.000-05:00

Hard Call, The Art of Great Decisions
By John McCain with Mark Salter
Twelve, 2007, 457 pp., $15.99

Faith of My Fathers
By John McCain with Mark Salter
HarperCollins, 1999, 349 pp., $14.95

Dreams from My Father, A Story of Race and Inheritance
By Barack Obama
Three Rivers Press, 2004, 457 pp., $14.95

The Audacity of Hope, Thoughts on Reclaiming the American Dream
By Barack Obama
Three Rivers Press, 2006, 375 pp., $14.95

Every citizen-journalist has a duty to add our presidential candidates to his or her knowledge base.
I feel hopeful. We’ll preserve values, if we elect either man. Read their stories. You’ll agree.
Notice I didn’t say John McCain and Barack Obama share world views. The Democratic National Convention will nominate Sen. Obama this week for his principles. Then Republicans will see that bet and raise it with Sen. McCain’s ideals.
We’ll have a choice, a real choice, not the usual poker game. Their writings make it so clear.
Obama is the change candidate because his journey is founded on family generations where the future – only the future – always looks brighter. So his Dreams has substance. Dreams must, because life depends upon them. He really can understand this current national crossroads of economy and opportunity and progress after race and after class and after mean political conflict.
The Democrat is what he says, the child of always striving, sometimes failing, constant hopefulness.
The Republican is true to his forefathers too. They are Celtic warriors in every American conflict since Scottish immigration. McCain looks backward to their history for his strength.
We must ask if the warrior can govern. Hard Call does not make him out the decision maker you would expect.
The classy Barron’s columnist Alan Abelson flatly calls McCain’s campaign inept. The New York Times details his habit of adopting the last opinion he hears, of agreeing to staff decisions only to abandon them without warning and of undercutting his own spokeswoman in public.
Imagine such executive disorder in the White House and shutter.
McCain admits he’s hard pressed to explain his method. Call actually is an anthology of Horatio Alger heroes – of interest but not as forecast of a presidency.
The ghostwritten selection runs to the conventional white male usually with military or even a naval connection. The senator can’t escape the ghosts of his admiral father and grandfather and his own hellish Navy aviator life as a POW torture victim in North Vietnam.
McCain claims to live for the present. But two pages later in Faith he concedes, “My public profile is inextricably linked to my POW experiences.”
So is yearning for principled death, for projection of military power abroad, for a VFW worldview.
We have this soldier of Sparta, the Greek citystate forever associated with perpetual war footing. We have the philosophical Barack Obama, suited for Socratic dialogue.
Both suffer from absentee fathers. Both lead aimless youths. Both recover well. Both taste betrayal.
Sen. McCain fights an inept government’s misguided war. But he can’t learn from it, perpetually choosing combat as Option One, the old warrior genes kicking in.
Sen. Obama’s DNA points him forward in Hope. His Chicago pastor who suggests the concept turns on him. Eyes on the prize: The Democrat keeps, “…the audacity to believe despite all the evidence to the contrary that we could restore a sense of community to a nation torn by conflict…
“It was that pervasive spirit of hope that tied my own family’s story to the larger American story.”
Two families…two storytellers…two candidates for America.

Blandish with art but brandish the text

2008-08-20T06:00:00.000-05:00

Looks aren’t everything. Too bad. Words count too.
I’m gazing at the graphic front page of a community newspaper. Never mind which one. The techniques I see are common to many.
What smashing news coverage!
Police break up a local drug ring. Prosecutors move to confiscate nine crack houses. Grand jurors indict 28 persons.
Photos of the defendants and a map with inset pictures of the homes engage my eye and mind. The graphics coax me to learn the story. They beckon me into the article.
This is print journalism to stop electronic news in its tracks.
Boy, howdy. Do I ever want to read the story.
But I can’t.
The first paragraph is long as a freight train when you’re stopped at a crossing with ice cream melting in the summer heat.
And there’s a word missing. Even after my mind supplies the meaning, the sentence is still awkward.
I like narrative style, when it works.
Sometimes, though, it’s best just to blurt the news out: “Cops bust drug suspects.”
As happens when any reader sees one glitch, I look for others.
The main head is dully passive.
The overline says, “Authorities disrupt alleged local crack ring.” Disrupt?!? They kicked a gang circle smack into a square.
And the named individuals deserve the softer “alleged” until proven guilty, but the general enterprise of trafficking without names attached does not.
Another line requires translation from its headlinese.
Suddenly the graphic treatment stands out more than the words.
That’s too typical these days in journalism.
TV and Internet and magazines and newspapers all show us a look.
The eye beholds a glory which fades when the content or the expression of it enters the head through the spoken or written word.
Journalists pay so much attention to appearance. They forget basics such as clarity, directness and plainspoken storytelling. Those matter as much as the graphic blandishment.
Blame specialization. We have separate desks, separate training, separate responsibilities. And in a hurry we forget to marry the specialties in a total package.
The only uniformity is in the reader or viewer, expecting the whole presentation to equal the sum of its parts.
Too bad when it doesn’t.

Dude, I live where my iPhone rings

2008-08-18T06:00:00.003-05:00

Home delivery of my paper failed the other day. Irksome
I got to thinking about people who never take the paper at all. They have 100 percent satisfaction with their subscription option. Why can’t I, since I’m a paying customer?
It’s not that newspaper companies don’t know what the non-paying public wants. Believe me. There’ve been lots and lots of studies, especially of the young.
News consumers want information on demand. That means delivery on their schedule, not the distributor’s.
They want portability. Don’t send news to their physical home. Send it to their online home, which may be in a pocket or purse.
They want to make their own news decisions. So let them select and tailor the choices of news topics feeding to them.
They want only what they want. They don’t want my experience of letting unwanted, unread sections of the news product fall to the floor while I look for something else.
They want news they can use. They probably don’t listen to opera but perhaps to rap or salsa. They may not read musty Russian novels but might check out current hot fiction. So there’s no point lecturing them into reading long, dry policy analysis that goes “on the one hand this and on the other hand that.”
They want fairness, transparency and accountability. They don’t want or need claims of objectivity, which they consider phony anyway. Everyone has an opinion, a slant, a viewpoint. Just give the other side, state yours and tell who your sources are – be fair, lucid and answerable.
They are not hung up on race, gender and social class issues. It’s not that they are rebels or “libruls” or freethinkers in the old sense. They’ve just moved on from those issues and hang-ups. So news stories and news figures playing to a divided nation seem irrelevant.
They want to feel their news organization is on their side. A certain insurance company must have read the same research – you know, “Nationwide is on your side.” It doesn’t have to be blatant, out-and-out advocacy. A sense of identification between provider and user of news will suffice.
They also want to stay connected through instant messaging or with a cool Web app that reports where friends are located at any moment or with social networks or with sites that store and exchange photos and videos. (Don’t like what you see? Don’t look). Much of their current events information and personal entertainment come person-to-person from the buzz of their friends.
Oh, and did I mention they want their news package to be free? A few Google type ads are okay, but no glaring flash or pop-ups. And no registration fees or rigmarole to get online; the view still prevails that anything on the Internet should be free for the taking.
These ideas run rampant through the information industry. A good access point I've tapped several times are the We Media showcase-seminars of iFOCUS, founded and run by Andrew Nachison and Dale Peskin. http://ifocos.org/about/
But now here’s a weird contradiction. This target group of news consumers who shun paid print subscriptions will spend money on technology. The cooler the better, like an iPod.
Or Apple’s iPhone and its clones – the smart devices that are camera, PDA, mobile computer, music and video player, game board and, oh, well, if you must, use it as a phone too.
If you want to wager on what media platform will carry information in the future, bet on the phone.
Whoa! Why, see here! What’s this I find in my own pocket? As I live and breathe, I believe it’s my personal cellular communicator, my new Apple iPhone. Scotty’s dead, but beam me up, anyone.
Does that mean I am “they” at my age? No. It means the culture is merging with the counterculture, which points to the future of media.
I sympathize with all those content characteristics of the young and the restless, although I am not one. Well, maybe I get a little restless now and then.
I even believe the old-style publishers have only themselves to blame for the traits of their customers and the ones they wish they had.
Newspapers trained us to be idiosyncratic readers. And, er, non-readers. They prepped us for the Web with all its own peculiar crazy quiltness. The difference is you had to buy everything the publisher printed, like it or not. But the Web browser points only where the surfer wants to go at the speed and in the manner of his or her own choosing, depending on broad band access.
Before there was an electronic smorgasbord of topics the user chooses, we had newsprint cafeterias. But we couldn’t just call up what we wanted. We had to slog through coverage of events, sports, features, business, advice, service information, celebrity gossip, politics, trivia, games, cartoons, truss ads, opinion and all the other cover-to-cover glory and inanity that comprise what’s starting to project deadly quaintness – a newspaper.
Americana and something our parents and grandparents cared more about than we do isn’t cool.
The newspaper experience even yet speaks warmly and wistfully of home.
But not when the carrier doesn’t come.
Besides, home is anytime and anyplace I get my IM or meet a friend on Facebook or download from iTunes on my iPhone.

The morning jitters just get worse

2008-08-15T06:00:00.000-05:00

Too many newsroom executives are so deeply imbedded in that mechanical culture, they are slow to adapt to electronic alternatives. Some can’t or won’t adopt at all. They prefer to ride out this info-technology endgame until personal retirement or until their embrace of the dead tree industry ends in a forest denuded of everything but computer screens.

My newspaper didn’t come this morning. Am I grumpy? You bet. And so’s my labradoodle, Jack.
He and I walk out to the front porch every morning at 5. He does what he needs to do. I look for what I need – my ink and newsprint fix. A sensitive animal, Jack picks up on my moody empty-feeling when the paper is not there.
Dogs and newspaper readers have a lot in common. No, I don’t mean the puppy puddle training stage on yellowing newsprint. I mean regular, repetitive reward for behavior is what conditions us.
It’s the open secret of newspaper circulation departments.
They interrupt our training pattern at their peril.
I can if I must skip the printed edition yet still get the news and features.
My laptop is primed and ready to dispense a lot more information than the broadsheet and from far more sources.
At 5 a.m. the regional news and weather are coming on TV. CNN is already telling me what the world markets are doing and what the overnight events are. Why, wonder of wonders, that includes even those occurrences since the local editors put to bed the newspaper, the one that didn’t rise and shine anyway.
Non-delivery simply underscores the anachronism of the printed word.
But the paper remains a comfort to hold in the hand, to turn the pages, to have an outward and physical sign of the inward sense of place where it’s published.
How comforting it is to get mad at its opinions or to mentally upbraid the columnists or to disagree with the selection of news. The faux anger gets my day started.
I love a paper I can hate and still keep coming back to. As long as it keeps coming back to me!
Oh, I could call the newspaper office where someone would dispatch a replacement carried by a fawning, apologetic route manager tugging his forelock and promising to do better if I just won’t drop my subscription.
I’m hooked. I won’t drop. But it will happen again that the paper won’t show up. And again. And again in a random string of unpredictable breaks in the delivery ritual. Even now I’m surprised when the paper does arrive on time and unsurprised but still petulant when it does not.
The newspaper factory is a relic of industrial technology with an infinite number of things that can go wrong on the transmission belt that ends at Jack’s and my doorstep.
Forget all the modernization and good intentions, which are considerable.
The mechanism of newspaper production wheezes and creaks and ultimately depends on some scarcely paid, non-professional driver to open bundles in the nighttime and to wrap a rubber band around a paper (double wrapping it with plastic in bad weather) and to get it to me before I get cranky for having to wait.
Too many newsroom executives are so deeply imbedded in that mechanical culture, they are slow to adapt to electronic alternatives. Some can’t or won’t adopt at all. They prefer to ride out this info-technology endgame until personal retirement or until their embrace of the dead tree industry ends in a forest denuded of everything but computer screens.
Established readers like me encourage the old ways with memory feelings of romance. And of habit.

The love of plaintalk vs. hated editorspeak

2008-08-13T06:00:00.001-05:00

God made copy editors. So love-hate relationships would agitate newsrooms.
Desk hounds can save your butt. They also can make you and your reader question the whole enterprise of journalism.
When I sat on a copy desk, naturally, we could do no wrong. Then I moved to reporting. I learned to insert a small error in everything I wrote. That way a copy editor could triumph over the “find” and move on instead of repeatedly reworking my story in agonizing self-justification.
“An Elegy for Copy Editors” on the editorial page of The New York Times reminds me of past ways and of the future of journalism. http://www.nytimes.com/2008/06/16/opinion/16mon4.html?ex=1371355200&en=4871a499fb7ba4b7&ei=5124&partner=permalink&exprod=permalink
The elegist Lawrence Downes had visited the Newseum, our industry’s shrine to itself in Washington. He searched in vain for a niche of tribute to copy editors. The death rattle of the copy desk foreshadows the obituary for print journalism.
Machines and those who operate them without time to get form and content completely right are lapping the bypassed word-checkers many times over in the relay race that is news delivery. The self-correcting blogosphere doesn’t seem to mind that much about accuracy.
The NYT elegy laments the decline of newspapers and of readers. Budget cuts lop the heads off the copy editing headline writers. Those guardians of credibility in word use and fact and meaning and readability no longer provide quality control. So publishing declines more, costing it more readers in the industry’s downward spiral.
Newspapers are shrinking or eliminating “multiply redundant levels of editing that distinguish their kind of journalism,” the elegy recounts. Layers of editing no doubt applied themselves to that very article for publication on the editorial page of The Times.
Yet what a weak sentence!
The word “redundant” doesn’t need or want the modifier “multiply,” as if to say, “redundantly redundant.”
The eye stops and stares at “multiply.” Does he mean the verb “to increase?” Or does the writer mean the opposite of “singly?”
See. I told you I used to be a copy editor.
Elegiac language is not the way people speak, a goal of the popular press in every era when volume matters.
The ambiguity actually proves the thesis in The Times where a copy editor should have prevented the reader from pausing in mid-sentence. Too many pauses produce too few readers.
But the passage also reveals too much deference to editors with their arcane ways and too little attention to readers with other ways to get information.
Even bloggers know to use plainspeak.
Print writers and their copy editors violate the Hippocratic Oath by first doing harm when they make the language more austere and not more readable.
Let’s not lament old ways too much while we improve ways to communicate.
Meanwhile you may take for granted any error you read here is inserted intentionally just to see if you could catch it.

Pink slips for newspaper ombudsmen – Can other jobs be far behind?

2008-08-11T06:00:00.000-05:00

Reporters hate questions about their work.
Editors do too. They just scapegoat better.
So official question-askers inside the newsroom fill an important position.
Call the position an ombudsman or a reader-representative or a public editor. Call it what you will. The role is not a newsroom popularity contest.
The job is all about journalism credibility:

Make sure the reader can believe the news.
Protect against undue victimization.
Guard against institutional neglect.
Correct the correctable.
Explain the rest.

Forty years ago the first newspaper ombudsman in the country went to work at The Courier-Journal. Now the Louisville newspaper joins a trend to eliminate the “inspector general” position for cost-cutting.
The Minneapolis Star-Tribune, The Baltimore Sun, The Fort Worth Star-Telegram, The Orlando Sentinel, The Hartford Courant and The Palm Beach Post are other papers dispensing with their public editors, according to C-J Public Editor Pam Platt. http://www.courier-journal.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20080803/COLUMNISTS10/808030383/1016/OPINION
She riled editors and reporters at The Courier-Journal for the last time and will move to editorial page writing.
Lo, how the machinery for ethics has rusted shut in the information industry. Never did run at optimum.
Norman Isaacs – Stormin’ Norman to his admirers and detractors alike – failed at creating a British-style National News Council in the 1960s and 70s. Isaacs was executive editor of The C-J, an industry leader in responsible journalism and an officer in the American Society of Newspaper Editors.
The New York Times editors especially pooh-poohed the social responsibility idea behind the council. Every paper is its own best policeman, claimed The Times.
Turned out the paper couldn’t even police its own Jayson Blair, the reporter who famously made up news and published the falsehood with a straight face. Ironically The Times created a public editor as part of the clean-up that also cost the news division its two top editors.
Ombudsmen at newspapers were Norman Isaacs’s fall-back position when the Council idea floundered. That’s why The C-J was the first in the country to have one.
Who else speaks for the news consumer?
Everyone in the production of information has a conflict of interest to cultivate, a reputation to protect or a touchy, defensive attitude to nurture.
But not the public’s representative who is removed from the process.
Too late the industry realized the need for what New Yorker media critic Ken Auletta importantly labeled as accountability and transparency – the ethical twins for explaining ourselves as journalists.
As the news industry grew in social prominence, public trust declined. That’s why Norman Isaacs and others saw the need for reform – an idea before its time, as matters turned out.
Now the newspaper arm of journalism withers. You can make a case for loss of public confidence accelerating the economic trend.
Instead of getting riled at ombudsmen, reporters and editors can get riled at their own pink slips.

Food for thought: Have another banana?

2008-08-08T06:00:00.000-05:00

Editors who get on their high horse are apt to slip on a fruit peel and go down, steed and all.
We see so many ethical stands. We hear so many grand statements of news as separate from advertising, which journalists call “the dark side.”
Then in the middle of every week we get their food sections, glaring in self-contradiction.
These labor intensive, soft journalism, tepid ventures into consumer reporting, if you can call recipes serious reportage, are a bigger staple than rice and potatoes.
The media critic may lose a job. The book page may disappear. The news bureau may shut down.
Food sections endure.
They wrap supermarket fliers and run grocery coupons. Some peddle wine and spirits or boom high-end restaurants for this nation of foodies.
Now this is the entry point for Harry Highminded, the editor, to blurt at me that eating is news too: “Ever see anyone give up food, heh-heh-heh?”
Well, yes, actually. Famine is increasing. Food riots are starting. Americans are malnourished either through obesity or poverty.
The real news of food is in genetic crops, the biofuels competition for corn and the safety of meat and produce.
News pages covered the massive South Korean protests against American beef imports. How many food editors followed up with coverage of safety in local meat markets?
Or how many check out jail, school and nursing home menus for nutrition?
Or publish health department inspections? Some do, to be sure.
But it’s the unusual food editor who sees a role in questioning advertisers who are the reason the editor has a job.
Media’s hypocrisy over the weekly homage to buying and eating is not a moral cesspool we’ll all drown in. And I’m not on my own high horse.
But it does us all good to admit our hunger for ad revenue isn’t satisfied by pretense at purity.
I agree food is a huge category of news and ripe for investigation and exposition.
Tell me where my milk comes from and why the price is zooming. Explain why Super Wal-Mart is America’s breadbasket but what that’s done to competitive choices. Report on the Food and Drug Administration for scaring us but not protecting us against salmonella in our produce.
Cover nutrition, the real story, not gluttony as typical food sections do.
But don’t try to con me into believing most newspaper food sections are any more than advertising vehicles.
That’s too big a bunch of bananas to swallow on horseback or anywhere else.

Read novels to learn narrative style

2008-08-06T06:00:00.001-05:00

The Story of Edgar Sawtelle
By David Wroblewski
HarperCollins, 2008, 566 pp., $25.95

Glimpse the world’s soul. Know death in the midst of living. See tragedy ennoble as in Hamlet.
This is Shakespeare’s plot line, after all, this narrative of Edgar Sawtelle. Oh, don’t mistake the literary art as artifice or as an American imitation or as a literary homage.
David Wroblewski, the first-time author, seizes the most famous drama in world literature for its pattern of eternal meaning. He has a myth to weave, a universal truth told in story form.
So a classic story mold reinforces what you might mistake as ordinary, even as a tale about dogs and their people.
You understand Hamlet better for seeing Edgar Sawtelle rise, discern his place in the mystery of life, avenge his father and suffer his own fall along with everyone around him even as the things that count – that really count – continue on their perpetual way.
Edgar was born in 1958 to a couple who raised and trained an idyllic breed of dogs on their northern Wisconsin farm as Edgar’s grandfather had done before. The house and a barn fitted out as kennel form a living stage. It produces the family story of companionship with each other and with nature. But the farm also is womb for an uncle’s unnatural evil.
A mythic journey of self understanding must take place before Edgar resolves the conflict.
While he’s away we lose the Ophelia character in a manner to break every dog lover’s heart.
Anna Quindlen last year wrote a sad book about pets — Good Dog. Stay. John Grogan wrote Marley & Me, soon to be a movie, based on his newspaper column about his funny, foolish, faithful pet.
Those are animal stories.
The dogs in Edgar Sawtelle’s life are different. They drive the constant, considerable action. They communicate in their canine fashion, because they were born mute like Edgar. In the womb, a seer explains, God told Edgar a secret he didn’t want anyone else to know. So the young man signs. And he acquires wisdom deep inside.
With Edgar we all learn dogs are not the beasts in this story. You wonder what God told them.
Insight and even vision — literally — aren't the brilliance of this narrative. The story, always the story, carries us a remarkable 566 pages.
The natural elements in those north woods plot the way through explanations of things we didn’t know we wanted to know. Breeding and training and even of how to play canasta and the characters buffeted by action in and out of their control and the descriptive details, yes, the wonderful details — those all make this book.
I tell journalists to read novels to learn narrative style. This is the book for them.
Yet The Story of Edgar Sawtelle is not journalism or a Shakespearean knock-off or ordinary fiction.
The thought crosses the mind of Edgar’s mother Trudy: When we accept life, we take contradiction with it.
You wonder if even Hamlet’s mother Queen Gertrude understood the tragic idea held in this legend, The Story of Edgar Sawtelle.

George Carlin: A journalist appreciated

2008-08-04T06:00:00.000-05:00

We all laughed with George Carlin. Journalists should have taken him more seriously. He had better instincts than many.
Carlin had an ear for usage. Write for the ear, we teach, not the eye. But too few do, producing a stilted tone instead of conversation.
And he thought. He thought about society. He started in radio. He ended in books.
His mastery of words and how to use them rose to the level of philosophy or at least of philology, the love of language and its meaning.
That’s because Carlin always sought the underlying sense and not just superficial correctness, the level where most users of the language stop drilling.
“Why do we drive on a parkway and park on a driveway,” he asked.
That equals my favorite conundrum of how a vacuum bottle knows to keep hot things hot and cold things cold.
Comedians play a special role in our society. They are court jesters where the republic is monarch. They tell us what we need to hear in a way that overcomes our reluctance to listen.
Carlin will receive the Kennedy Center Mark Twain Prize for humor posthumously to underscore his specialness.
Now there’s a pair to tickle St. Peter’s funny bone, Carlin and Twain. Add Ambrose Bierce and Will Rogers to the circle. They all represent the poetic truth: “Scratch a humorist, and you’ll find a bitter man.”
Carlin put the thought differently: “Scratch a cynic, and you’ll find a disappointed idealist.”
So, Carlin said about Ronald Reagan’s defense of the Nicaraguan Contras: “If crime fighters fight crime and firefighters fight fire, what do freedom fighters fight?”
I am not alone in my respect for the ability to assess others’ use, abuse and misuse of language. The official wordsmith of The New York Times Magazine, William Safire, paid tribute after Carlin died at 71.

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/07/06/magazine/06wwln-safire-t.html?ex=1372824000&en=5757a8a4aded95b1&ei=5124&partner=permalink&exprod=permalink

Safire saw a perverse value in “the seven words you can’t use on television” routine by Carlin. By devaluing the shock value of those adolescent obscenities, Safire thought, the performer had done a service to the language.
Wouldn’t you like to have a copy editor who believed in modernizing speech? Most copy editors enforce a tedious regimen.
Never write that a person died “suddenly,” they lecture, because everyone is alive one instant and dead the next.
I’ll be damned, I can imagine Carlin saying, because I spent my whole lifetime not dying, and it was pretty damn sudden when I finally did.
Too bad he can’t cite the exaggeration his predecessor Twain did about reports of his death
The life of Twain was a cover story in Time for his social criticism on race and excesses of the Gilded Age, which he named. http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1820166,00.html

It took 98 years after his death to get the coverage.
Let’s see if a century passes before his successor George Carlin achieves the recognition of a man so funny he’s seriously important.

Arts and Letters was a horse, no press release at all

2008-08-01T06:00:00.000-05:00

The art of the public relations agent comes out in press releases, which generally are artless.
They can be elaborate. They can entice. They can blare, rarely trying the subtle approach.
They are why city editors have messy desks.
They are the stuff of the logo, the release date, the contact information.
No tree should have to give a life for one. No electron should have to spin a tizzy over one.
But press releases are not going away, no more than their authors in media relations departments.
Press releases can be the cry of the Sirens, who seduced the crew of Ulysses on his odyssey. Tough men, they, but prone to have their heads turned by sexy maidens. Or, press releases can be terse, useful guides to the morning line for reporters to take slight notice of and then discard.
So we need to put them into perspective.
New York Times business writer Joanne Kaufman does not. She does dignify the press release with a story http://www.nytimes.com/2008/06/30/business/media/30toxic.html?ex=1372478400&en=109705c354560eb5&ei=5124&partner=permalink&exprod=permalink
We find out the best words a PR writer can use to attract the attention of a journalist for exposure in the media.
A kind of a science as well as a recklessly purported art figures in Ms. Kaufman's article: The proper technique uses words most likely to be picked up by an Internet search engine these days.
We even learn a book by PR stunt planner David Seaman is due out in October, "Dirty Little Secrets of Buzz." Makes you feel dirty just thinking about it.
The biggest little secret in public relations, it turns out, is timing. Make sure the press release comes out on a slow news day, the Times article concludes.
Well, there's no true conclusion. I will supply one. The story is dutifully non-judgmental. I will be, dutifully.
A press release has one value and one only, as a tip sheet. The best ones in my experience are so labelled, "Tip Sheet." Trust it any further and you're liable to tip over. Even phone numbers and addresses are suspect, to be checked and verified while the journalist re-reports any information in the release, which is never to be quoted or treated as valid information from an original source.
Did you get that, young journalist?
Ms. Kaufman did not report the journalistic value of press releases. Allow me. There is none.
Journalism is what a reporter brings to an idea. The idea may come from a tip by a useful press agent. But the journalism is value-added.
Oh, me, oh my!
You will depart this blog post with the thought journalism is an art and public relations is a service industry whose product is mechanical, the press release.
You think correctly.

The Hometowners: Obama and McCain

2008-07-30T06:00:00.001-05:00

When you’re hot, you’re hot.
And when you’re not, you’re not.
– Jerry Reed

No one wants to repeat Al Gore’s non-election. He lost Tennessee, his home state.
So GOP nominee-to-be John McCain feels the need to campaign a bit more in Arizona, even though he represents it in the U.S. Senate.
Things slip. People who know you best may not view you as presidential timber. And the minority vote prefers the opponent.
That African American, Native American, Latin American and Asian American electorate counts.
Journalists from those groups saw Democratic nominee-to-be Barack Obama up close and personal at Unity, the combined journalism conference for all four minority groups.
They saw him in “Chicago, Chicago, (his) hometown,” which is generously endowed with admirers of the Illinois senator.
Hot item at the conference was the Chicago-based Ebony cover of Obama as “One of the 25 Coolest Brothers of All Time.”
He made the list with music mogul Jay-Z, R&B great Marvin Gaye and “the original heartthrob, Billy Dee,” swooned Chicago Sun-Times columnist Mary Mitchell.
Obama fever soared until an editorial in that paper had to remind readers that campaigns are the news, not just the hometown candidate.
The Project for Excellence in Journalism found the Democrat featured in 78 percent of political stories, according to the paper’s observation. McCain mentions came in at only 51 percent.
An oped piece by Jewel Woods, a “gender analyst” for the Renaissance Male Project, claimed even guys have a crush on Obama. It’s his “white collar masculinity.”
Still another columnist compared the candidate’s foreign policy team with The 300. That would be Sparta’s hero-defenders against Persia in the cult movie featuring Bowflex-product, muscle rippling warriors admired by gamer boys.
What’s the fun of Chicago, if you can’t go over the top?
The attention drove Sen. McCain to mock the press.
But cool as the breeze off Lake Michigan, “Obama sizes up Mideast stage” in a Chicago Tribune headline.
A quote by Trib columnist John Kass called McCain “grumpy.”
Editorial Board member Steve Chapman called the man “confused on Iraq.”
And Trib syndicated writer Jonah Goldberg called his pro-surge strategy on the war a loser as the defining issue of his campaign.
Don’t mess with the hometown candidate in other words.
A couple of days’ look at Chicago papers conjures the Jerry Reed lyric when it comes to Sen. Obama: My luck was so good I could do no wrong.

Unjumble this: dreenyipsit

2008-07-28T06:00:00.000-05:00

You know about the man who checks the obits every morning to see if he’s there.
I work the Jumble word puzzle to see if my mind is all there.
My wife does the same with the crossword puzzle.
Our grown children tackle sudoku.
There’s the lady whose day just isn’t right until she checks her horoscope and the man who looks for the daily comic he has read ever since he was a little boy.
We’re all hooked on the benign narcotic of the syndicated feature. Newspapers set out to make us return customers. And darned if newsprint is not a lifestyle for some of us.
Journalists are so-o-o-o serious. Their products are news, sports, features, editorials, business coverage and all the rest in life that’s more or less momentous.
Many of them don’t know we really want to read the used truck ads in the classifieds. Or find out the weather in Bangkok. Or check the TV listings.
My local paper ran a gazpacho recipe this morning. Perfect. Now my household knows what to do with the surplus of tomatoes, peppers and cucumbers from our garden.
Papers everywhere run food sections one day a week – usually Wednesdays – to wrap around the grocery ads with their coupons and twofer come-on sales. And those are part of the information industry too.
Publishers put out a package, not just coverage of breaking events. Many still provide yesterday’s stock listings, although any investor can check the markets instantly online.
Try to stop a syndicated feature like that and watch the switchboard light up with angry calls from us in the newspaper habit. Don’t even move a feature from its usual spot.
An organizational mind is a measure of good papers. Alter not their internal order.
Serendipity also is a hallmark, though. We wonder what the letter writers are up to today, what the movie critic says, what fantastic hand the bridge column is about. Finding the answers is a random walk through a land of happy discoveries made by happenstance.
You may think or wish this marriage of opposites – an ordered plan wedded to chance delight – is exclusive to newspapers and would keep the competing Internet at bay.
Nope. The World Wide Web is just a many times larger collection of oddities and curiosities and fun features to divert us from its serious content updated instantly. If you think it lacks order, you haven’t put links, feeds, widgets, blog readers and all the other gadgets together on your familiar home page.
There is simultaneous organization and serendipity to a good Web site just like a good newspaper. That’s why online journalism can succeed once the economic model is in place. We habitués can make the move.
Those of us who are grumpy if we don’t work the Jumble every morning now aren’t able to settle into the day’s routine without checking our email.
And when we manage our own homepage, we don’t have to worry that some editor left our favorite feature out that day.
I blog, therefore I am – without having to check the obit page.

Who do you want in a digital knife fight?

2008-07-25T06:00:00.002-05:00

The long knives go slit-slit faster and deeper at benighted newspapers. Publishers reserve the longest, sharpest blades for slicing off their own noses to spite their faces.

It's the darndest thing. Newsroom budgets have a one-for-one ratio of product quality. So where does the front office slash? Why, the very place that would bring in more customers for themselves and their advertisers.

Ad reps advise clients to buy more space in a downturn when merchants need more traffic. They don't do it. They advertise less. But that's the argument.

When publishers need a better product to boost the bottom line, they invariably cut back too. If that's not hypocritical, it's sure short-sighted and makes for a brutal nose job.

They imagine they are in the business of printing words on paper. So they reduce pages and the wordsmiths to fill them.

The truth is, they really are in the information business. They need constantly to create demand and to generate ad attraction with more and better information. But they do the old biz school thing that reduces costs in a version of supply side economics instead of spending wisely to create product demand.

The newspaper industry is a metaphor for failed imagination.

If Silicon Valley had thought that way, I'd be writing this on an upright typewriter instead of a computer.

That's why I like the advice of columnist Leonard Pitts, Jr., although he admits he was slow coming to his own view. The Internet should be at the core of journalism, not off to one side, he now writes http://www.miamiherald.com/living/columnists/leonard_pitts/story/574088.html

"And then maybe we should hire away the bright people who figured out how to make Yahoo and Google profitable and ask them to make our sites profitable, too."

Go, Leonard.

Publishers recognize the virtual world when their IT Departments show them. But they're not thriving in it like Jeff Bezos at Amazon, now competing with downloadable texts via Kindle, http://www.amazon.com/Kindle-Amazons-Wireless-Reading-Device/dp/B000FI73MA or like Craig Newmark, the Internet entrepreneur taking the classifieds away from conventional print http://www.craigslist.org/about/help/user_accounts.

Bezos and Newmark and all the Google, Yahoo, Facebook and other dagger gaggles may look like a publisher's worst nightmare.

But if I'm in a knife fight, I want a guy who's good with a stiletto at my side.

Media generations: MTV and the AARP crowds can set government right again

2008-07-23T06:00:00.001-05:00

MTV may save the republic
Ladies Home Journal and the Crown Forum book How to Raise an American and even The AARP Magazine will help.
’Bout time someone did something. Really. It’s all about time or at least age. The issue is how to motivate the youth vote, and those media are onto something.
The big news is Viacom’s countercultural music broadcaster announcing it will now take political ads.
It’s for the money of course. When Sen. Barrack Obama passed up public funding of his Democratic presidential campaign, he put a monster ad budget in play with a youth orientation.
But an ad is information, too, not just a commercial. If campaign advertising weren't suddenly cool, MTV wouldn’t break its 27-year ban against marketing candidates.
This is watershed stuff. Potentially, anyway.
Just a few years ago David T. Z. Mindich wrote Tuned Out, explaining why Americans under 40 don’t follow the news. He said political process alienated the young who found it immoral, unresponsive to the people and irrelevant along with the news media that covered politics.
Harvard sociologist Robert Putnam broke that ground with his landmark study of civic disengagement.
And journalist E. J. Dionne, Jr., decried the exchange between politicians and the governed as “unintelligent” in his book, Why Americans Hate Politics.
For the smart set, the young set, the MTV set to tune back in as both the Iowa caucuses and the Obama millennials indicate is big for the future of self-government.
A letter to Reader's Digest calls this "The Facebook Election." But ultimately, the writer said, two things will have to happen:

These young activists will have to run for office;
And leadership in both major parties will have to step aside to "let younger, more open minds take over."

Too soon to say if the information industry and especially newspapers will reverse their own downward spiral related to civic malaise.
Mindich anticipated some rise from the ashes, because “despite their disengagement with news, young people are as thoughtful and passionate and self-reflective as they have ever been, ready to interact with news if we just provide the right conditions for them to do so.”
One condition could be for parents and grandparents to be civic-minded and to model participatory government for the generations to come of voting age.
Myrna Blyth, former editor of Ladies’ Home Journal, started Take Your Kids 2 Vote, promoting the idea of adults taking their children into polling places with them. She remembered it when she was a kid.
She and cofounder Chriss Winston researched Election Day involvement and wrote How to Raise an American.
Naturally http://www.takeyourkids2vote.org/ is their Web site. Emphasis is on recollection and narrative.
“Sharing your memories of voting makes kids realize their family is part of the American experience,” Blyth said to writer Nick Kolakowski of AARP http://www.aarpmagazine.org/.
And that’s cool too. For the self-described “World’s Largest Circulation Magazine” to publicize civic lessons across the generations really does link MTV’s ad policy news with shoring up the Republic’s future.
Rap that tune.

Stars Fell on Barack Obama

2008-07-21T06:00:00.012-05:00

I will go to Korea, Ike said. He campaigned during an unpopular Asian war.
And America elected Dwight David Eisenhower as president.
I will go to Iraq, Barack Obama said, campaigning during the latest unpopular war.
Now the star system in American journalism is burning, burning bright to light up the Democrat’s presidential campaign.
If the candidate doesn’t make a major foreign policy goof, the media celestials will brightly backlight his election profile. They’re going too.
You get the impression of a royal progress by an oriental potentate. Newspaper poobahs and magazine satraps and TV sultanas will climb aboard decorated dromedaries to form the entourage. The U.S. military will assist the Secret Service in Janissary duty.
Headliners from national newspapers and magazines are going.
So are all three network news anchors – Charles Gibson of ABC, Katie Couric of CBS and Brian Williams of NBC. They’ll be doing primetime interviews with the candidate.
Clang the cymbals. Blow the trumpets. Beat the tabla. The cavalcade comes.
Obama couldn’t buy this kind of publicity.
Neither could Republican opponent John McCain. Coverage of his international trips fit into the routine category.
The old hat McCain is getting the “also running” treatment stingingly felt by Hillary Rodham Clinton in her party nomination campaign against Obama.
“He’s the new guy, though,” rationalize media executives to Jim Rutenberg in The New York Times. The reporter documents the ongoing imbalance of TV coverage in favor of Obama. http://www.nytimes.com/2008/07/17/us/politics/17anchors.html?ex=1374033600&en=00fc706cfaedd8e9&ei=5124&partner=permalink&exprod=permalink
My own political reporting for The Courier-Journal years ago had to measure up – literally – to the standards of the Louisville managing editor, a stickler for fairness and ethics. He used a yardstick to make sure every candidate got exactly the same number of column inches.
The M.E. also said you have to rise above your ethics sometimes. So he would excuse a lack of balanced coverage for news reasons.
Barack Obama traveling to get his foreign policy ticket punched does not excuse blatant unfairness.
Neither does the “new guy” argument after a long “rock star” campaign by the now familiar candidate.
Nor does the Ike analogy. This isn’t history. It’s politics. And the star system.
Media celebrities recognize a fellow luminary when they see one in politics. So they give chase like Magi going to Bethlehem.
Stardom is an addiction constantly to be fed. Journalism egos are not too big but too little, too insecure, too threatened not to conform with the pack. They can’t stand the idea of being left behind when the court travels abroad.
And network newscasts look enviously at ratings by cable outlets for political coverage. So on caravan they will go.
They’ll need a little music.
Here’s my parody on a Mitchell Parish, Frank Perkins lyric familiar to Alabama:

We lived our little drama, we kissed in a field of white.
And stars fell upon Obama last night.
I can’t forget the glamour, your eyes held a tender light.
And stars fell upon Obama last night.

I never planned in my imagination, a situation so heavenly
A fairy land that no one else could enter
And in the center, just you and me, dear
My heart beat like a hammer, my arms wound around you tight
And stars fell upon Obama last night.

This just in: Government discovers rumor!

2008-07-18T06:00:00.003-05:00

Can’t fool Washington. It’s just slow on the uptake.
Word-of-mouth is humankind’s oldest form of communication.
Dame Rumor flies, wrote ancient poets such as Virgil. Truth is a pedestrian.
The feds were bound to get around to investigating that hare and tortoise race.
The Securities and Exchange Commission wants Wall Street to stop spreading false information.
Lots of luck with that.
Those turkey buzzards of day trading, the short sellers, make a living from bad information and misinformation and disinformation. They borrow stock at a high price to sell low and pocket the difference.
The shorters naturally benefit if gossip hurts a company on the Exchange while they hold its paper.
Speculation flitted right behind rumor out of Pandora’s box.
Journalism could tell federal regulators all information is baseless until verified.
But fact-checking is a tedious process that suffers when a reporter is close to deadline and when the financial world is in near panic mode as it is lately.
So we shouldn’t be cynical either about editors’ stern warning to authenticate or the SEC’s crackdown on illegal trading practices.
Realism simply tells us rumor mongering is a never ending story, with us always.
The wagging tongue as way-of-life is how vast numbers of non-readers of newspapers and non-watchers of TV are getting their news these days. Much of the news actually is commentary if not downright gossip.
Abandon all hope for straight poop as you enter the blogosphere. Yes, this blog is an outpost in the vastness of cyberspace too.
That’s why you see my name, my picture, my bona fide credentials listed – the stuff of credibility, the eternal enemy of rumor.
Trusted sources: That’s what professional journalism is all about, regardless of media platform.
The government might defeat rumor in the marketplace. Not likely. But it might. The weapon would be instantly available truth, denial, explanation to counter every whisper.
But that would require government, corporations and the financial world to be quick with credibility too.
Every reporter knows those institutions trade in deception and withheld information and controlled flow of news.
So short sellers and average citizens take rumors for granted.
Credible journalism can’t. That’s why there’ll always be a market for honest reporting.
Uphill battle that it is with Dame Rumor whispering in your ear.

Bed sheets, bazookas: New Yorker, the hen

2008-07-16T06:00:00.006-05:00

Eustace Tilley blew this one.
If you know that name, you probably “got” the Barack-o-drama cover of The New Yorker.
Satire is a double meaning the reader is in on. Or else it’s a scam.
If the shock of the image allows a viewer to take it seriously, the artistic or literary trick becomes a mere antic, a ruse, a hustle.
The questioned cover shows Mr. and Mrs. Obama as flag burning terrorists in the Oval Office. “Politics of fear,” is the satiric target by cartoonist Barry Blitt.
Trouble is, polls show some Americans believe – wrongly, but believe anyway – the lies connecting Islam, Osama bin Laden and the possible First Couple.
Those of us who don’t believe are nervous that we live in a society where some do harbor or even foster those untruths. So we’re not too keen for the cover either.
We prefer an information campaign.
The New Yorker tried the humor of disinformation and laid an egg.
Hey, Eustace is a buddy of mine, fictional though he is. I delight in seeing the signature dandy on the front of the magazine. He’s the logo. He’s the sophistication. He’s a pretty good clothes horse, often depicted by TNY satirically with props.
Editor David Remnick can sly up the magazine’s symbol, can satirize public figures, can make fun of our social foibles.
Surely he can do a take-off on the Democrat with a funny name and a funny past and a serious chance of becoming president.
Well, yes. If he can answer one question: Does the cover communicate?
Not to Eustace’s standard is the answer.
Remnick knows how hard irony is to wield as a means of conversation. And he must know he goofed. Because he’s trying to explain the joke. That’s proof positive the joke fell as flat as a magazine cover.
It’s as lame as New York Times editor Bill Keller trying to explain the paper meant to say Republican presidential candidate John McCain showed poor judgment about ethics, not that he had an affair necessarily.
Manhattan is an island. Those editors need to swim to shore more often.
For The Times to link sex and a politician was to run a public DNA test on his bed sheets.
For The New Yorker to attack ignorance with sophistication was to bring a pen knife to a bazooka fight.

Sen. Gramm’s Ph.D. economy goof while 'helping out' Sen. McCain proves public, press, politicians need a common language

2008-07-14T06:00:00.013-05:00

Let’s drop the word “economics” in favor of “quality of life.”
Public, politicians and media might get it right then.
Sen. John McCain’s Republican quest to be president is but the latest to foul up. He did it through a stand-in, former Sen. Phil Gramm.
We’re but a “nation of whiners,” said that Ph.D. in economics. Gramm claimed we’re only in a “mental recession.”
Insert funny comment here: Maybe it’s the professor who has the receding mind…he taught at Texas A&M, so maybe this is an aggie joke gone bad…or as Barack Obama, leader of the Democratic presidential camp commented, “America already has one Dr. Phil.”
We don’t need a shrink to know we can’t buy or sell houses, afford fuel and food, meet the hidden tax of rising college tuition, find a job in some cases or get a raise in others.
John McCain still thinks trickle down works, corporations will save us out of the goodness of their hearts and oil policy means greasing the palms of petro execs yet again.
He’s a goose egg on money matters. So he uses Gramm to tell him what to think. But no one told Gramm how to speak.
To be fair we lack a common language about finances. An egghead looks at the numbers, the institutions, the science of capitalism and sees the engine running right along.
The people see only the result and feel the engine running them down.
Reporters don’t translate between the two opposites, which is why God invented journalism – so media would communicate.
When the Gramm-McCain gaffe broke, that’s all the story was. Media treated it as yet another misstep in the political pasture full of language cow patties.
In journalism we call this a daily process story, because it lacks context.
An enterprising reporter covering Gramm-McCain could have, might have, should have included news of the whole day: \

The federal government is stepping up to support the two mortgage holders that account for half the nation’s mortgages, which add up to $12 trillion.
Banks are in the tank.
Gas isn’t, because of costs, which won’t quit with President Bush drawing a military bead on Iran.
Food expense is tied to fuel.
Goalposts for retirement keep moving because of all of above.

We’re not whining, Dr. Gramm. We’re living life and enjoying it less. We’re also reading the papers.
We’re just not reading the right story. It would put two and two together, linking screwy political views, the public’s disconnect from brainy economists and daily living.
No more petty political items. No more campaign gotchas. No more disconnects.
Media need to change the language: It’s not the economy, stupid. It’s the quality of life.
Then we would no longer be a nation joined asunder by so many misunderstandings about the meaning of money.
That’s one thing we all have in common, money, but commonly not enough.

Live wires promote the living truth

2008-07-11T06:00:00.003-05:00

I know, let’s open all the microphones all the time.
The Rev. Jesse Jackson is merely the latest public figure to speak ugly into a hot mic he apparently thought was dead.
He apologized to Barack Obama for calling the Democratic presidential hopeful out of his name. (That’s a wonderful country idiom for, “Momma, Jesse said something vulgar”).
Here're a couple of points.
First, it’s nuts to say anything in a broadcast studio you don’t want picked up.
Really, don’t say anything anywhere you don’t want the world to hear these days.
Which leads to the possibility Jackson actually wanted to be heard. But that’s too cynical and spy-vs.-spy to contemplate. Let’s don’t go there.
Instead think about a world where everybody gets everything out in the open naturally.
This flap won’t go anywhere. Because Obama quickly accepted a quick apology. And it wasn’t big enough to label “Jessegate.”
But the remark inside a Fox Broadcasting studio focused on the candidate’s stand that African American fathers should be fathers. That means at home and attentive to children as Obama’s dad was not.
Jackson called that “talking down to black people.”
Really interesting is his published statement of apology.
The old line Civil Rights leader said he wanted black males’ personal moral responsibility to be matched by the country’s collective responsibility for public policy.
Oh, really? H-m-m-m-m, say those folks who have moved beyond that view.
Government ought to correct itself for “the lack of good choices” that often led to their black dads’ irresponsibility, according to the Jackson statement.
Suddenly we understand Obama better for Jackson’s gaffe and follow-up.
The younger leader believes in personal responsibility. The older leader still labors under the entitlement mindset that government is to blame and needs to make up for it.
Barack Obama couldn’t pay for that kind of left-handed endorsement.
And public understanding is the better for climbing the continental divide between two views.
The unintended free flow of ideas all resulted from a single hot mic.
Open all the microphones!

The radio icon's channel comes clear

2008-07-09T06:00:00.002-05:00

Good for Rush Limbaugh. His $400 million deal for an eight year contract extension fazes me not.
Yet I don't care for the gentleman and don’t listen to him.
That seems to me sensible instead of getting into a swivet over outlandish pay for outlandish people.
Rush comes across as the cigar-reeking, bad habit, loud-of-mouth passenger lumbering down the airplane aisle toward the empty seat next to mine.
His opinions soar with a lot of his fellow travelers. I’d have to consider a later flight if I were forced into his company.
I don’t even think it’s a liberal vs. conservative thing. My taste simply is substance over image, reason over rhetoric, meaning over controversy. Give me an open mind over an open mouth anytime.
In fact I flow from the left full circle again into conservatism and completely defend any commentator’s First Amendment right to become the unwanted flight partner.
Ah, I hear you say. How can you judge Limbaugh if you don’t listen to him?
Well, you don’t have to eat the whole egg to know it’s rotten. I’ve heard enough.
I've also read enough in Time and Newsweek and elsewhere to know their coverboy is a national phenom who isn't going away. Americans made him what he is, phenomenally.
NYT Magazine writer Zev Chavets called the guy an American icon. Yes, well, icons are one dimensional religious images.
This one's veneration comes from being "confrontational, deliberately insensitive and funny," Chavets wrote.
And his single dimension?
Well, Rush himself told The New York Times Magazine it isn't his conservatism but his business ability: "My first goal is to attract the largest possible audience so I can charge confiscatory ad rates." http://www.nytimes.com/2008/07/06/magazine/06Limbaugh-t.html?ex=1373083200&en=96d69779ce7c0fb1&ei=5124&partner=permalink&exprod=permalink
Sounds like sham, a case of entertainment profit and not movement standard bearer.
Is he worth what Clear Channel is paying him? Sure, if the market will bear it. Commercial radio is like every information platform, grabbing at gold-plated straw men to cope with the digital and demographic revolt by audiences.
Media salaries at upper echelons took off into the wild blue yonder long ago.
The merger of the information industry with entertainment is like gay marriage will seem 20 years from now. What once appeared strange and perverse to some people turns ho-hum in time.
That means, of course, the Rush Limbaugh star will flame out too.
Newspapers started the star system long ago when they began running photos of their top columnists and having them speak at the Rotary and booming them in house ads.
Those promos seem primitive now. But TV news built on the concept to the point Katy Couric became CBS-TV's astronomically paid evening news anchor with $15 million a year. Now there's talk she'll be pushed out.
Katy doesn’t even mouth cigars or pop an excess of prescription drugs like ol’ Rush.
Then again, for all her personality attributes, The CBS celebrity can’t match the radio man for his familiarity with audiences.
Talent? How much does it take?
It’s that connection that matters.
Instead of getting jealous at Rush Limbaugh, we should all study how he does it.
Trouble is, then we’d have to listen to him.
Clear Channel would have to pay me the $400 million.

Revive us again! Clay Felker and a hallelujah for the magazine business!

2008-07-07T06:00:00.016-05:00

Magazines are slick, sometimes sophisticated plays for reader attention, subscriber loyalty. And I love them.
Their circ departments must know I’m a mark. They’re always sending me their “professional rate” discount offers. So I take more than I need as a sampler.
Those markdowns suggest churn to me. Subscribers get super savings so publishers can try to stay even with their declining customer lists.
Maybe its time for another magazine revival. There is a certain sameness about all that pass in front of me.
Clay Felker built the model 40 years ago as New York. The glossy challenged even The New Yorker, the one legendary journalist Harrison Salisbury famously called “perhaps the best magazine ever.”
Everywhere you looked editors imitated New York’s graphic design by Milton Glaser, the narrative writing style by the likes of Tom Wolfe or Jimmy Breslin and the sassy service information.
When I became a newspaper features editor, our tribe was still trying to borrow as much of the tone as we could get away with.
Felker came out of The New York Herald Tribune tradition. It was said The Trib’s editors went out for sex at lunchtime, while The New York Times editors merely went for a drink.
Sexiness was and is a main ingredient to compete with other media, especially when TV does more show and tell than even movies once thought they could get away with.
New York’s groundbreaking editor invented a formula without being formulaic.
“American Journalism would not be what it is today without Clay Felker,” said the magazine’s current editor, Adam Moss. The Times quotes his statement in an appropriately generous obit. Felker died at age 82 in his Manhattan home. http://www.nytimes.com/2008/07/02/business/media/02felker.html?ex=1372737600&en=20a30abd0cea6d55&ei=5124&partner=permalink&exprod=permalink
He was middle-aged and I was starting out when he taught me editors could be full of themselves. And how!
Felker and his friends Ben Bradlee, executive editor of The Washington Post, and Tom Winship, editor of The Boston Globe, spoke like a trio of mythological Graces, or maybe it was Titans, to our graduate journalism class at Columbia University.
Honestly, those egos sucked the oxygen right out of the classroom.
Humility has its place in editing. But so does chutzpah, the creative life of Clay Felker shows.
In the reinvention of modern media on all print and broadcast and digital platforms, journalism will need a revivalist of his style.

Karl Rove, Wes Clark and "swiftboating"

2008-07-04T16:07:00.003-05:00

I was skeptical from the minute I heard Wesley Clark dissed John McCain’s service record.
Sure enough. Another case of media quoting out of context.
These political days, you have to stay in skeptic mode 24-7.
The columnist Paul Krugman wants to blame Karl Rove, the man who surgically removed the civil tongue from the body politic.
It’s tempting. The Roveblitz career started with screwing up Alabama politics, especially in the state judiciary. Then the smear, innuendo and truth twists gave us an All America era that will require two more eras for un-spinning.
You can’t resume civility with the speed of a swiftboat.
Krugman lays out the connection between that dirty political operation of four years ago and how the McCain GOP presidential camp used the Wes Clark interview for a fake scandal. It’s a good column on the dirty dealing. http://www.nytimes.com/2008/07/04/opinion/04krugman.html?ex=1372910400&en=0e1bedcbb66a5840&ei=5124&partner=permalink&exprod=permalink
But these tricks wouldn’t work if the hair trigger media didn’t rush to Web or air or print with the latest phony tittle-tattle. The emphasis is on gotcha and quicky.
The Rovian world is brought to you by its sponsor, shoddy journalism.
Those of us who teach the old fashioned brand of balanced reporting sometimes worry whether jobs will await our graduating students. Actually we ought to figure out a way to get practicing journalists back into our schools for refresher courses.
What General Clark, the hero of Kosovo as NATO commander and the West Point valedictorian and the Rhodes Scholar and the wounded Silver Star soldier of valor in Vietnam, actually said of John McCain’s also heroic military service was that it didn’t necessarily prepare him for the presidency.
McCain believes the totality of his lifetime in public service, including time in Navy jets and as a Hanoi POW, does prepare him. And that’s what the voters will decide in the contest against the Democrat, Barrack Obama. Since Obama didn’t serve at all in the military, the better comparison may be over judgment rather than uniform.
Quick trigger journalists and the pols who load their guns want to impact the outcome. It is the judgment of the Republicans and of McCain to use those rapid fire techniques.
The best way in the old school of press and politics would be to squeeze off a round of truth after checking the safety for facts rather than to fire from the hip with a jerk of the finger at the first glimpse of a target.
Context is everything. Clark was talking about strategic foreign policy thinking vs. Top Gun fingers on a joy stick.
I read one of his books, Waging Modern War. Impressive, thoughtful, prophetic. He also wrote Winning Modern Wars.
I interviewed Clark on the speaking tour he took in 2000 to position himself for a Democratic presidential run, which he has tried without success.
He’s an engaging, bright, even brilliant person who takes care with words and actions. Clark modeled the mantle of intelligent military statesman most people now view wrapped around the also talented frame of General David H. Petraeus, our best bet for getting out of Iraq with at least a small amount of honor.
So if one of those guys isn’t qualified to talk about strategic qualifications as better preparation than tactical assignment, no one is.
Now the sad thing is reporters will always throw the non-incident incident about Clark and McCain into “background” like a repeating rifle. That will be a pity if it costs future American public service the mind and talent of this strategic thinker, Wesley Clark.
Bad journalism is the gift that never quits giving.

The view of freedom from where it wasn't

2008-07-04T13:54:00.002-05:00

Congress shall make no law... abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press...
from the First Amendment to the United States Constitution

Ex-patriot journalists can get very patriotic. They can see no reason to hide it for someone else's imagined allegiance to objectivity over allegiance to country. Try teaching the tenets of western journalism to students from throughout Eastern Europe and Asia, their countries still thawing out from the Cold War and the frigid embrace of Stalinism. Look at the faces of Kosovo refugees, of Albanians worried about home and family, of ethnic minorities in a time of ethnic cleansing.The American University in Bulgaria held classes in an old communist headquarters. The idea was to spread free thinking where none had been allowed. Yet the region was not very much advanced from the time of the gulag. Bulgaria had still locked political rebels away in secret places even after Russia had stopped. American journalists-turned-teachers built a distressing reputation for themselves when first allowed into Eastern European classrooms. Students had them pegged as preachers of do-as-we-do, who would go back home after giving no real, pragmatic advice for coping with governments that had no sense of our First Amendment. There can be no American-style press without basic press freedom. So it's useless to tell new journalists to copy us. That reality travelled with me to American University as a Fulbright professor in the secondary city of Blagoevgrad, named for the founder of the Bulgarian communist movement. I looked out on my multi-ethnic, multi-national class in a setting that made 1958 look modern. And I said to the students' relief, "All right, let's figure out how you can do the best journalism you can without getting killed. Even if you merely get thrown into jail, you're still not going to be able to publish the closest approximation to truth all journalists seek." The students loved my American practicality. And I had a renewed appreciation for the press freedom they lacked and we take for granted in the United States. The final exam consisted of 9/11, which occurred during my Bulgarian semester, 2001. Weeping Muslim and Christian and the pro-American and the nominally anti-American students and people embraced my family and me. My students in particular felt an evil blow fell on a people who understood freedom better than any. An ex-pat looking homeward at a time of tragedy from a vantage of the freedom-deprived can see patriotism quite clearly. It's a foolish journalist who pretends not to be affected by feelings for country, whose Constitution makes our profession possible.

The summer of the apprentice

2008-07-02T06:00:00.007-05:00

My favorite newspaper intern was an Indiana University coed. She was so good, she gave our journeyman reporters a run for their money.
We mainstreamed our apprentices at every paper where I had a say. No hazing or sending for coffee or demeaning with assignments. At the end of her summer run, I asked the IU intern if she would consider applying for a reporting job after her upcoming senior year. Clearly she could do the work already.
Thanks, she smiled. She enjoyed the opportunity. But now that she had seen the inside of journalism, she planned to change her major to chemical engineering.
I laughed and still maintain that was a successful experience. She found direction.
Most interns stay in the profession after the first stepping stone.
The Dow Jones Newspaper Fund is in its 50th year of recruiting and placing interns. I was one of its recruits in, shall we say, the first half of its history.
The Chips Quinn Scholars program of the Freedom Forum is another valuable portal, especially for minority interns.
My own multicultural Knight Fellowship in Community Journalism includes an intern segment. That’s to ensure our master’s degree Fellows polish their practical skills before they graduate.
So I totally disagree with The New Republic article by Adelle Waldman, “Why internships in journalism are bad for young people and bad for the industry.” She writes about magazine as well as newspaper opportunities.
Her image is grunt work for slave wages by the privileged young on a career track. The internship culture works against diversity, merit and talent, to believe her.
Not in my experience. Not in my observation. Not in best practices.
TNR’s writer is correct that internships are a rite of passage in media. I don’t know of a profession without entry portals and practices.
I spent my long ago internship writing all the obits in east Arkansas, west Tennessee and north Mississippi. The state editor insisted I verify every detail in every death with a call to the survivors.
Grunt I did. But I came away with entry level respect for accuracy and fact-checks, missing even in some practiced journalists.
My experience also was directional, like the IU coed’s.
Sure am glad I didn’t go into chemical engineering, though.

Press agentry is the rough among the diamonds

2008-06-30T06:00:00.002-05:00

Never trust anyone who uses “paradigm” in a sentence -- the instant sign of a phony.
So I agree with that one piece of advice from Sally Stewart, a communications consultant who wrote Media Training 101. She also gives eight rules to “Ace a Press Interview” in a Wired magazine how-to.
Talk from notes, know your interviewer, know you’re on the spot, know you’re talking to an enemy who hopes you trip up, expect pressure and so forth.
Odd. I don’t see anywhere in Sally’s list where you should tell the truth. The plain, simple, statement of fact made with knowledge and sincerity would be a thing of uncommon beauty in press interviews.
Public relations is the fork in the road not taken by journalism. PR seeks a persuasive goal. Reporters quest ever onward for the elusive approximation of truth.
The late R. W. Apple, extraordinary raconteur and remarkable reporter for The New York Times, once told a teaching colleague of mine they were not in the same business. The professor taught public relations.
Would that it were so, Johnny! The relationship is more like parallel universes. They often merge, because press agents and The Press often find they need each other to do their separate jobs.
Departments of media relations can make necessary connections between reporters and principals, usually hoping for a desired slant. In worst cases the press spokesman is treated as the ultimate source, guaranteeing the spin gets out there.
In my world of journalism, truth is the best defense. Veracity may be the unavoidable last refuge of scoundrels in PR.
A former State Department spokesman and normally no scoundrel at all, told me he never lied to reporters. He simply made sure he had no knowledge on hot, sensitive subjects. He felt “clean.” I felt uncomfortable with his strategically planned ignorance, an avoidance of hard truth.
I suppose the truth, like a gemstone, shouldn’t come to the surface easily. Candor, authenticity, fact would all lose value.
In the long wait for truth certain, we examine its substitute with skepticism.
That’s how I view Sally Stewart’s advice to the interviewed.
Then again, if she had advised them to be truthful, she'd have to call her recommendation a paradigm in public relations.
Automatically we couldn’t trust what she said.

What to do when the headhunter calls

2008-06-27T06:00:00.010-05:00

Some big jobs are open in journalism. More will come. Revolving doors churn faster with the industry in economic upheaval.
A city editor once advised me I was “on the up escalator, because management had its eye on me.”
My wife and I got a big laugh out of that. Still do.
Ambition is normal, however. No one should apologize for wanting to be considered.
The turmoil in management is so rampant and widespread across media platforms, the next call a news executive gets may be from a search firm.
Leonard Downie, Jr. is retiring from The Washington Post after a fabled run as executive editor. He’s making way so a new publisher can have her own person to meld print and online coverage.
Everyone in and out of media has a favorite candidate to succeed the late Tim Russert as NBC’s Washington Bureau Chief and moderator of Meet the Press. Actually, that could take two appointments.
How wise of the network to ask Tom Brokaw, its dean of broadcasters, to preside on the Sunday morning show in the interim.
It’s tough to take a saint’s place on a permanent basis. And Russert certainly received media canonization so rapidly, the Vatican must wonder if it could speed its own process for beatification.
Note to the halo hungry: Try to follow a sinner or at least allow some time to lapse before your own succession to magnificence. And more advice...

Make sure you have something to add to the civic conversation.
Journalists are content providers, so don't go too techno crazy.
It’s a cliché to want to make a difference; choose that attitude anyway.
Forget about the kingdom and the power and the glory; just do the news.
Keep family uppermost as Tim Russert did; we have enough misplaced priorities.
Don't get snowed by the perks and the bucks.

Journalism is a public service and a Constitutional privilege with responsibility attached to protect The People with information.
If that job description doesn’t fit the offer, thank the headhunter for the call and go back to work.

Me Blog Pretty One Day

2008-06-25T06:00:00.010-05:00

You know that dream where you're naked in public? That's blogging for the first time.

But I have something to say. I have a long career to base my view on. I reinvented myself from editor to professor. Besides, I'm tired of sitting by while a million-million people fly into the blogosphere.

Look out. Here I come, naked or not.

There's a lot of company out here, all playing off each other. My title on this intro-post plays off a book by humorist David Sedaris, he of the gabby sister. I'd link to them, but some of the technique is going to have to follow along later.

I'm more into content and making my opinion known for now. I wish to be humane about it and clever when possible. Wise would be good. And informed, open to new ideas but skeptical that everything that has gone before is bad, ready for the discard pile.

I'm a contrarian. For instance I believe media were put on this earth because The People need to communicate.

So the true focus of journalism should be on the consumer of news. I observe in these difficult times for media companies, however, an introverted attitude overly emphasizes the producers.

I'm for The People. Corporate journalism will sort itself out if it takes the same view.

I agree with an advice-post on ProBlogger that less is more in word length. I'll try. God knows. Don't want to bloviate. But o-o-o-o-o-h, I've got so much on my mind!

I'll give you passion. And consistency. And a willingness to back down when wrong.

Email me at onejournalist@gmail.com even if you agree with some things I say.

And by all means add your comments to my posts, add this site to your bloglist and add it onto your blog reader.

There. I feel better now for adding all this up. I'm even dreaming like a blogger with clothes on.

A comfort level with some frequency

2008-06-24T14:46:00.011-05:00

I didn’t quit listening to radio. Radio quit me.
I steal that line from Ronald Reagan, who said it about Democrats. He was a guy on a mic before going into another kind of make believe as an actor and politician. He used to phony up sports broadcasts to make them sound live.
And that’s it with pop radio isn’t it? Hype, whistle, wham, bam, thank you, ma’am.
There was a time when radio played it natural. I liked it like that, as comfortable as a movie matinee. Then came TV, audience and ad competition, and marketing and the Top 40. Bummer.
I knew something was wrong years ago when Del Rio, Texas sold autographed pictures of Jesus on the air.
National Public Radio is winning me back. I guess it’s a demographic thing.
Sanity is reclaiming the airwaves. I may not be alone in my opinion, at least in my fan class.
The local university station plays NPR the first half of the day for the faculty and off-campus neighborhoods. The students don’t start listening until the second half when rock starts. Hard.
When the kids graduate, they may not take the frazzling frequency along.
College grads are not big fans of commercial radio, turns out. Edison Market Research shows non-college grads listen more. But listeners who have a diploma tend to count themselves in the NPR audience.
Part of the explanation may be the increase of workplace radio listening, which is significant among college graduates. Thirty percent of those choose the Internet for listening, compared with 12 percent among non college graduates.
Hey, I think we’re sick of obnoxious radio, which is impossible to work by. It helps that NPR is slightly boring to the young, so it is attractive to the rest of us, cultural instead of counter-cultural and not demanding of our full attention while we are otherwise occupied.
Radio needs to be more like the later Ronald Reagan. A milder delivery plays gentle on the mind. The message seems credible that way, or at least more than sham sports or religious relics with counterfeit signatures.

Journalism blows with the wind

2008-06-24T09:25:00.017-05:00

If you want coverage of your own personal Act of God or Act of War, you’d better be in Act One. Afterward the press heads to the lobby for intermission and refreshments.

I get a stale whiff of disaster fatigue. We are a fickle media, you know.
The recurring story, the story that won’t go away, the been-there-done-that-story – each causes a decline in journalism’s interest.
Oh, we blame it on the news consumer. We “have an obligation” to recognize the public’s short attention span.
But in the rush to oblige, we satisfy our own itch to move on and our own inability to see a story through to the end.
The flooding in the Mississippi drainage basin is not the “Katrina of the Midwest,” they tell me. So it’s "unfair" to expect the level of coverage we witnessed wonderfully in New Orleans, Biloxi and beyond in the Gulf Coast.
Well, let me count the similarities: Natural disaster on a biblical scale...human mistakes of building in a flood plain…failure of levees…death and injury...thousands displaced…blighted lives…the need to question governmental response, perhaps because it's better this time.
And the differences, such as they are: Neighborhoods washed away down south but most structures on the plains can be repaired…an historic city vs. dispersed rural communities…a tantalizing tourist destination of the imagination as opposed to the “flyover” region of America…a sizable racial minority with poverty issues compared with rugged farm region folk who are supposed to know how to cope.
The two stories look pretty similar to me. Besides, I’m uncomfortable saying one class of disaster victim population is more worthy of coverage than another.
If you’re flooded out, does your race matter or does it matter if you are in Louisiana or Iowa? If you’re burned out, does it matter if you are in California or Florida? If you’re dying of heat, does it matter if you are in Phoenix or Chicago?
All victims crave validation of their misery. All consumers of news need to know about disruption in national life.
And the tornadoes we've been having! The repetition seems to lower media interest. News rooms even have a cynical line to cover their boredom: “Sounded just like a freight train,” they yuk.
Each new typhoon, tsunami or threat of plague in Asia brings less attention than the preceding one. Every war in Africa, the Middle East and near-Asia pops up for a little while and then quickly loses media attention.
If you want coverage of your own personal Act of God or Act of War, you’d better be in Act One. Afterward the press heads to the lobby for intermission and refreshments.
I tried in two different newsrooms to create a “Whatever happened to…” feature. It was a simple, systematic way to revisit events and situations so we could “drop the other shoe” and end the public’s suspense on some important matter we raised and then forgot. But reporters hated and fought the effort.
The natural state of a journalist is the next big story, not the last one. What a professional disaster!
Real professionalism means viewing every situation as fresh and demanding of our full attention, new all over again. Every victim has an personal story to tell, if we listen and pass it on.
Now the Bread Basket of America is losing the shock value comparison with N’awlins.
Yet the Midwest’s possible famine-producing impact on the global food chain may overshadow enormously Katrina's huge but regional impact on the Gulf.
The more recent storms blew in when a housing crisis, a credit crunch and a fuel crisis boiled up in a perfect economic storm for the nation, aggravated by seeming helplessness against such macro headwinds. Katrina hit when we had fewer obstacles to cope, if only the federal government had.
Media attention to disaster or any other “old” story is uneven at best. Oh, I’m going to hear about pictures taken, column inches published and coverage dutifully pursued. That’s it, of course – duty and not freshness.
The word “ennui” applies to much of the media – boredom to the point of annoyance at being stirred from disinterest.
Looks like disaster fatigue to me.

Keep Tim’s name at work

2008-06-20T16:12:00.006-05:00

Tim Russert deserves a living memorial from journalism.
The testament should endure much longer and more meaningfully than the on-air shrine of NBC’s coverage about his passing.
Despite the network’s backlashing critics, no one honestly can be surprised by the broadcasters’ excess on behalf of their Washington bureau chief and moderator of the best political talk show.
Instead of, “If it’s Sunday, it’s Meet the Press,” the slogan could be, “If it’s NBC, here’s another tribute to Tim.”
There’s a simple reason for the immoderation about the moderator. NBC did it because it could. And his many friends and colleagues did it, because they wanted to.
So let the longest running wake on television play itself out. By general agreement the Russert name is too good for his colleagues to wear out.
I know I don’t let the first day of the week pass without watching Meet the Press. I also watch ABC’s This Week with George Stephanopoulos for contrast. And I finish the Sunday papers-on-the-air with CNN’s Wolf Blitzer who claims the best political team in the business.
Maybe the cable crew does deserve ranking in the group category.
Tim Russert was the tops in singles for good reasons: He asked questions. He asked them well. He asked them only after research.
Perhaps that’s not a lost art in journalism.
But the nation blundered into the Iraq War behind our unquestioning press corps. The Bush-Cheney cat got the tongue of White House reporters on all sorts of policies that will take long years to reverse. And community print and broadcast media lack the chutzpah of the blogosphere when seeking the bottom of local, state and regional issues that matter.
I’ve witnessed reporters read a press release and pose an inquiry on the text so the utility, business, police or public official could ever so politely parrot the official statement back for camera or steno pad.
Fear of appearing rude, contrary or uninformed intrudes: Don’t stand out in the crowd.
Well, Tim Russert must have cared about country, about the civic conversation and about the future more than he cared about smooth talk. He wasn’t abrasive as ABC’s Sam Donaldson in his heyday or as rantingly partisan as the skulk from the Fox hole or as blandly scattershot as Jim Lehrer’s NewsHour on PBS or as politically poetic as Bob Schieffer on Face the Nation.
He was the studious case detective armed with the facts and merely asking the politician to account for the record so different from the latest statement. He had the tape or the film clip or the transcript as back-up.
Tim Russert was the master of the question.
So we should honor him by putting his name into the professional language.
From now on a question shall be called a “Tim.”
And the act of questioning with factual support shall be called “Doing a Russert.”
It’s a fitting memorial.