News as if people mattered
Journalists don’t decide what ought to be newsworthy. That would be editorialising, and reporters aren’t in the business of doing that. We’re only following orders imposed by events.
It hasn’t escaped our notice, of course, that lines between reporting and comment are blurry. The Internet has challenged us, forcing old pros to evolve or lose their jobs. Fewer of us shoulder more burdens than ever, but the basics of our craft remain unchanged. In the hope of defending these values, if not their value, I’d like to give readers some insight into the trade.
Its quest is still to write a first draft of history, not question where that comes from like academics. We’re trying to get people’s attention, not send them to sleep. “News,” to quote an archetypal hack, “is what a chap who doesn’t care much about anything wants to read. And it’s only news until he’s read it. After that it’s dead.”
All day, we scurry from inbox to webcast, downloading revelations like human speakwrites. But how to mine the gems from data overload? That’s where news judgement comes in.
Before filing anything, we have to answer the W questions. Who said or did what, where and when, and to whom? These are the essence of stories, which we don’t incidentally make up. We prove their authenticity by using quotes, ideally from VIPs, and preferably sexed-up to boot.
“Make it sing”, the old-school teachers said, and never forget to show instead of tell. “There are no facts,” they told us, “only sources.”
In these days of short attention spans, we can’t get too bogged down in details. We repeat what we heard, and do our best to make it comprehensible. When politicians announce something, we help you understand what they’re trying to say. No matter how communicative our leaders, they can’t speak with journalistic detachment. Our job is to clarify what quotes mean, by explaining the assumptions behind them.
That doesn’t mean exposing people for the sake of it. We enquire on the public’s behalf, not to denigrate or undermine authority. If someone else in authority does that, we’ll report it. We’re trying wherever possible to inform. But above all, we’re trying to stay neutral.
Objective journalism checks its facts, and gets their meaning right. It stands the test of time as stuff unfolds. Like someone wiser than me said: “When the facts change, I change my mind.” We’re constantly updating stories to ensure they reflect the views of reliable sources.
But who are they exactly? And why are they allowed to make the news? Why, they’re people who change things, people with power, like the government, big business and the army. And that’s why they’re reliable, because they’re the ones making history. In a democracy, journalists tell you what these people say they’re doing. That’s balanced with views from opposing parties, handicapped by their power to shape events.
While it’s wrong to say this makes us one-way mouthpieces, more nuanced critique demands an answer. The spotlight doesn’t always linger where it might, as resource-poor, time-rich cousins realise. To cite an esteemed colleague, “there’s nothing worse than the dripping sore of a whining intellectual who complains.” But since journalists are seekers after truth, I’d like to propose some tweaks to codes of conduct.
Firstly, there’s no need to duplicate effort. Agencies feed us rolling events and pronouncements. Instead of rewriting their copy, we could print it as bullet points. That would cover most W questions, leaving us to ponder complex ones, like why and how.
If it bleeds, it leads, we say. But our focus on what goes bang neglects why it did, or how to prevent it. In trying times, the process is the story, not the spectacle, whether in the newsroom or elsewhere. Perhaps if we analysed how wars start, there might yet be one we could stop.
We could also stop pretending to compete. Copying each other is boring. Why not collaborate more? It’s unfair to say our scoops are bogus, just because they’re planted by vested interests. But if reporters worked together on investigations, we might find a few more things out.
How would we all make a living though? Well, frankly few of us do now. And there’s no such thing in journalism as a free lunch. But if the fortunate ride other people’s waves, then what are we still being paid for? Running tight ships towards an iceberg?
Lastly, we could value humans equally, even if they don’t have titles. We talk about public interest, but who really knows what that is? Maybe we could ask more people. I know it sounds passive, but what about the ones whom things are done to, instead of those who do the doing, and frame our stories?
Blogobots show many people’s views are tiresome. Not everyone’s a newsmaker, it’s true, but democracies are meant to serve the public. Right now they make the rules that we endorse. If journalists are a Fourth Estate, shouldn’t they be tribunes of people power?
None of this would undermine our ethics. We’ve always sought to comfort the afflicted. And afflicting the comfortable comes naturally, even if the two don’t neatly divide.
At the very least, we ought to stick to facts. Everyone has an agenda, even us. And unless we serve our consciences, those who aren’t on the side of the angels exploit our good faith. In the name of objective reporting, we relay their words. Yet when we challenge them with facts, they call us biased. Whatever we choose we lose, so let’s choose wisely. It’s time to remember journalists matter too.
Since “correspondents” are sources now, why not ask what they think, not what we think they ought to? If we really don’t have a clue, let’s cheat and steal. “Take it off TV,” they taught us in training. Nowadays the treasure trove’s online. All we need to do is raid our archives, and resurrect the novelties we buried there.
That’s how we’ll see off cyberpunks, and their Orwellian visions of stories falling “upon the facts like soft snow, blurring the outline and covering up all the details.”
If we keep raising our game, the future’s bright. However shrill our critics get, they don’t adhere to standards. Citizen journalists unite; you’ve nothing to lose but your illusions.
