Landmark editors meeting, October 1984
"The character and credibility of our newspapers are most influenced by the day-to-day things you do in the newsroom."
I can't remember a time when there was more public criticism of the press than now. Diverse segments of the public are saying, "The media have too much power, and they can't be trusted." These doubts about our credibility are being discussed at almost every meeting of editors and publishers.
Some editors believe the credibility problem has been exaggerated. Others wring their hands in fear that the people will despair of us and strip away our First Amendment rights.
I think both views are wrong. The right of individuals and the press to speak freely is embedded in American culture and law. Americans will not give up those freedoms easily.
My concern is for a more immediate danger than loss of the First Amendment. It's concern for what will happen if the press does fritter away the public's trust. If our readers lose confidence that what we publish is essentially fair and true, then the First Amendment will be rendered meaningless.
Consider this testimony from two commentators on the press.
Ruth Clark, the press' well-known researcher, found in her latest national study for ASNE that "a majority does not believe that newspapers are usually fair." Hodding Carter, a former newspaper editor and press officer for the State Department, said, "There is a continuing sense, by those who are involved in the news, that the press daily flunks the test of accuracy and fairness and of understanding and of focus and of perspective and of any sense of continuity and of any notion that there are, in fact, issues which endure over time which are not easily resolved."
For the past decade, the polls have shown a radical decline of public confidence in the press. What caused this decline?
Fear of our power, for one thing.
The media do have enormous power in our society. The revolution in communications technology has made the media more pervasive and more powerful than ever.
There has been a tradition in our craft to deny that power - to claim that it's exaggerated or doesn't even exist. But the public knows what much of the press will not admit. The public knows that the printed word and broadcast image play central roles in almost everything that affects their lives today.
People are afraid of our power. They believe we use it more in our interest than in their interest.
We need to be honest with ourselves. We need to acknowledge our power to do wrong as well as right, and we should acknowledge responsibility for that power.
In my early years in this business I accepted the conventional view that editors and publishers cannot worry much about consequences. Everything we publish affects somebody. We would never get a paper out with news in it if we agonized over all those effects.
But gradually I came to realize that we cannot escape responsibility that easily. Institutions and people, particularly those who regard themselves as professionals, must accept responsibility for the consequences of what they do.
The question we must ask ourselves - the litmus test - is whether we are engaged in public service or self-service.
Before we intrude on somebody's privacy, we must ask, "What is our motive for publishing?" Sometimes there's a fine line between publishing news and pandering, between reporting essential information and exploiting a victim.
Before we publish information leaked from a grand jury we must ask, "What is our motive?" The answer must be clear, for to publish is to take justice into our own hands. That's a heavy burden. We should satisfy ourselves that our motive for publishing is to serve the public interest rather than our competitive interest.
Every editor at least subconsciously considers the consequences of stories every day. We will make the sensitive decisions better if we talk about consequences - talk about them openly and without guilt that we are betraying some macho notion of our independence.
The first step is to acknowledge responsibility. Then, like other institutions and people who exercise power, we are obliged to use ours with restraint and self-discipline.
Last year's president of the American Society of Newspaper Editors views the credibility problem in a way that I think is dangerous. He says newspapers are better than ever, and I agree. In spite of that, he says, the public is blaming newspapers for the sins and shortcomings of television news. So he thinks the task for newspapers is to make sure the public understands the distinctions between newspapers and TV.
Well, that won't wash. I agree with his indictment of TV news. The nature of the medium makes for shallow, incomplete and misleading reporting. Too little is told too quickly and, often, sensationally.
Like it or not, the presence and influence of television news is a fact we must live with. Instead of wasting our energy shifting the blame to television, newspapers should take advantage of TV's shortcomings by improving their own reliability.
Mike Wallace made ambush interviews fashionable. He creates instant drama as he blindsides his subjects. For those who prefer a more direct approach, there is Sam Donaldson, bullying anyone from the president on down.
They have many imitators, mostly TV reporters, but with a few print imitators, too.
What is their motive? I fear that there is only one purpose. They seek to create drama. They seek entertainment, not enlightenment. Their techniques are unfair; they serve no purpose but the journalist's own.
That kind of excitement is not what journalism is about. It is one thing to say that we must create interesting newspapers that our customers will want to read. It is quite another to create false drama. Newspapers should reject the shabby techniques of many TV journalists.
Newspapers are just now climbing out of a period of melancholy - a time when many papers seemed more interested in reporting failure than success.
Some say the press merely mirrored the nation's depression after Vietnam and Watergate. And there's truth in that. But I believe the press became so engrossed in reporting our society's defeats that we failed to see the victories. As a result, we painted a world that many of our readers could not recognize from their own experiences.
I am proud that Landmark's papers, at least, are not mired in that gloom.
As evidence, I think of Greensboro's series showing how care and kindness survive against all odds in a mental hospital ... of Roanoke's piece about a mother's enduring love of a psychotic child she was duped into adopting ... and of a Pilot-Ledger piece about couples having courage enough to risk their life savings to start their own businesses in Waterside.
Stories like these are an important part of the human experience. They adhere to Rebecca West's dictum that our duty is to "reflect the face of the age."" Instead of demoralizing people, they inspire them to do better.
Optimism has been the wellspring of American achievement. Even in the worst times, people and institutions make progress. We should be generous in coverage of achievement; our pages should reflect the grit, devotion and durability of the human spirit. We should nourish hope.
The 1960s brought several versions of "new journalism." Many young reporters embraced the doctrine of advocacy in place of objectivity. Newspapers squandered a bit more of the public's confidence before they tamed and finally rejected the cult of advocacy.
Then, in the wake of Watergate, some newspapers went on a binge of investigative reporting. Much of it was petty and had no apparent purpose except the thrill of the chase.
Again, we must ask, "What is the motive?"
Investigative reporting should have a clear and important purpose. It should be directed and edited with care and meticulous attention to accuracy and fairness. Many investigations produce dry holes or, worse, thin stories. We should have the courage to abandon these no matter how much effort was expended or how much ego is on the line.
Landmark papers offer examples of the firm and thoughtful judgment needed before going into print with investigative pieces. The Roanoke Times & World-News interviewed 40 people before doing a story questioning the tactics of a commonwealth's attorney. The Greensboro News & Record risked losing a scoop in order to make sure a story embarrassing to Gov. Hunt met the fairness test. The Pilot and Ledger printed powerful stories exposing an abortion mill based on direct knowledge of a reporter who offered herself as a potential patient. In each case, our purpose was clear, and our story was thorough and fair.
Most of our communities' failures are rooted in complex problems. A truly excellent newspaper will spend most of its investigative skills digging into and explaining these circumstances. We misdirect readers if we concentrate on narrow problems and inflate their significance.
Today, we often hear the press described as arrogant. I think this is a case where the conspicuous behavior of a few prominent networks and newspapers and some of their celebrated journalists unfairly taints us all. The public has come to detest the defensiveness and reluctance to admit errors of some of the media's elitists.
Landmark's newspapers are not arrogant or defensive.
All Landmark papers actively seek public criticism. Some hold frequent meetings with community groups. Others have regularly scheduled critiques for their editors and reporters by outside critics. Some monitor accuracy by mailing questionnaires to news sources. The Virginian-Pilot and The Ledger-Star have had a full-time ombudsman since 1974, and I believe this office has greatly improved our readers' trust in the newspapers.
Landmark papers try to correct mistakes promptly and fully and prominently enough to mend the damage. Ours were among the earliest papers to adopt forthright corrections policies.
There are times when it is tempting to pull punches on corrections, particularly when we have been guilty of bias or questionable ethics. We must discipline ourselves to overcome these temptations.
Making full corrections and owning up when we are unfair are the best means of assuring readers that we care and will not always have the last word. In any case, it's the honest thing to do.
Now I have saved the most difficult subject for last. It is the problem of accuracy and fairness and understanding and perspective that Hodding Carter raised.
You know more than I do about the scores of reasons that inaccurate or unfair stories get into print. Most of these lapses are unintentional and are aggravated by the conditions of our craft. Let me comment on three causes.
Occasionally reporters let their biases slip into stories. On rare occasions, reporters like the notorious Janet Cooke manufacture information or knowingly leave out material that's essential to fairness. As egregious as these offenses are, I think they are the smallest of our problems.
It's rare indeed when you let those kinds of stories get out of the newsroom. And you don't have much trouble deciding how to deal with a few reporters who write biased or false stories.
More difficult are mistakes that arise from omissions, inadequate checking and the urge to get it out first. I think these are the worst threats to our credibility, because they occur most often. The inaccurate facts that are commonplace in newspapers. The too-frequent stories that are incomplete or lacking in context and balance, and thus fail to convey a true picture of what happened.
When you consider that we must create a new newspaper every day, there can be no simple solutions. I can only urge a persistent emphasis on the fundamentals, supported by a conviction that accuracy is the most basic journalistic value.
Readers expect us to be fair as well as accurate. They want our facts to be in context and to add up to a true picture.
All of this, as you know, takes careful editing, attention to detail, and a lot of communication with reporters. It takes time, and we never seem to have enough time. But the reality these days is that readers don't expect to get the first information from the newspapers. Most people get the headlines first on radio or TV. We damage ourselves if we get it first at the expense of getting it right.
I've seen TV rush onto the air ahead of us with inaccurate information, while we waited to nail down the facts. We should never be afraid to get it right before we publish.
Perhaps our most difficult problem comes from the inability of reporters and their editors to understand complex or unfamiliar subjects.
We are reporting complicated subjects now that we barely noticed a decade or two ago. We have thrown at the newsrooms fields like medicine, technology, finance and economics. Even old beats like courts and education have grown complex.
Meanwhile, readers are better-educated and more sophisticated and discriminating. They expect us to understand these complex subjects. They expect us to report them with as much authority as the sports department reports baseball.
I'm afraid the gap between our knowledge of these fields and readers' expectations is wide. Readers are quick to recognize when we don't understand a subject as well as they do.
I have one suggestion. We need to keep reporters for longer tenures on beats that require specialized knowledge. I see enormous differences in quality of reporting that are related to time and experience on beats like business and education.
I'm aware that holding reporters on beats is not easy. But keeping good reporters on specialized beats longer should be a serious goal. It would reward our readers with reporting that is more perceptive and authoritative.
Now let me put my remarks into perspective. I believe newspapers, and particularly ours, are better than ever. They are more accurate, more complete and more interesting. Even so, our readers are holding us to a higher standard. They will turn us off quickly if we don't keep their trust.
Am I sounding the bugle to retreat from aggressive journalism? Am I calling for bland newspapers? No. That's the last thing I want. Any editor who's been here awhile knows there are no sacred cows in Landmark newsrooms. If anybody thinks there are any sacred cows, let's corral them and examine their horns.
No territory of legitimate public interest should be off-limits to fair and competent reporting. No story of importance to our communities should go unreported because we failed to dig deeply enough.
The character and credibility of our newspapers are most influenced by the day-to-day things you do in the newsroom. The things that really count are what goes into the paper every day and what is left out; the signals you send to your staff - what you praise and what you criticize; how you react when a reporter's or an editor's bad judgment gets into the paper; how much attention you pay to accuracy and fairness, story by story.
I think the great editors in America have iron in their blood. They put honesty and the character of their papers ahead of popularity in the newsroom. Demanding accuracy and sending stories back until they are fair and balanced will not bring you love. Spiking stories of doubtful merit naturally will distress editors and reporters who have invested hours in them. But I don't know any distinguished editors who shy away from unpopular decisions.
I started by saying the readers are critical of us, but they are thirsty for news. They live in a world that often seems out of control and full of peril and complexity. They want and need information they can trust and rely upon.
Our calling was never more important. We have the capacity to inform, to enlighten, to awaken, and to inspire. We have the opportunity to enrich the lives of thousands of people every day.
Your actions and decisions shape the values in the newsrooms. They have more influence on a paper's values than policy statements, or codes of ethics, or speeches by the chairman. You are not only shaping the content of the newspapers, you are also setting the standard for reporters and editors who will take the torch from us. It is your example that counts.
Copyright 1984 Frank Batten