Wednesday's postcard. Our precarious hold on journalism ethics, and why it matters.

May 3, 2023

Windmill Lane, Dublin, 2007

Why Journalism Ethics Matter for All of Us

Later today, barring accident or further medical complications, it will be my turn (again) to make a presentation to and inspire a conversation with my men’s discussion group.

The gender exclusive cohort will surprise some people. It surprises me. Let’s just say the presence of women has a civilizing effect on men, such that the existence of men’s groups is, almost by definition, a risky and arguably archaic venture. It still feels weird to be having meaty discussions about issues that affect all of us without women being present.

That said, I was recruited to the group a decade ago in large part because some felt it had drifted like an unbalanced teeter-totter to the right. My politics, as you can tell, lean to the left. The proposition is that I would help bring some balance. But the compelling point, for me, is that I was spending most of my time with people who agree with me. I thought I would benefit by spending time with people who reliably wouldn’t agree with me; who would push back. There is a swagger of male ego in the sometimes glum, sometimes defiant march of the patriarchy that tests my patience and my nerves. I was right about that. Yet, even though some of the meetings, early on, were a bit rough, they were valuable learning experiences. I’ve written about this over on the Rhubarb mothership.

This evening I’m going to discuss journalism ethics. I proposed the topic a couple months ago while the Dominion v. Fox News defamation case was in discovery and headed toward trial. In short, the nation’s most popular cable news network was being accused of knowingly defaming Dominion Voting Systems by promoting the accusation that Dominion voting machines were instruments of widespread voter fraud in the 2020 Presidential election. As Trump’s own attorney general and at least two reports privately commissioned by the Trump campaign concluded, there is zero evidence of systemic voter fraud affecting the outcome of the 2020 election.

Obviously, Donald Trump continues to claim the election was stolen from him. Discovery in the Dominion lawsuit led to jaw-dropping texts and emails by Fox News anchors and executives privately and bluntly acknowledging the falsity of the election fraud claims but also rationalizing the continued airing of those claims on Fox programming. The prevailing fear at Fox was that its most loyal viewers were depending upon the network to advance the election fraud story and would switch from Fox to even more partisan “news” outlets (i.e. Newsmax and One America News) if Fox got cold feet.

It’s very, very difficult to win a defamation case in the United States. In 1964, the U.S. Supreme Court reversed (NY Times v. Sullivan) a lower court judgment against the New York Times and other plaintiffs. In short, what the court decided is that it’s not enough to show that someone published something derogatory about you that is wrong. The plaintiff—especially when it comes to public figures—has to show the publisher acted with malice, knowledge of falsity, or with reckless disregard for the truth. That’s a tough test.

But Dominion—as the saying goes—had the receipts. Discovery and depositions in the case offered compelling evidence that Fox brass—up to and including the corporation’s 92 year-old godfather, Rupert Murdoch—knew the claims of election fraud were false, but continued to allow them to be aired. Murdoch was also revealed (no surprise) to be secretly assisting the Trump campaign by sharing. The upshot is that, on the first day of the trial, Fox settled the complaint, agreeing to pay Dominion $787.5 million.

This subject matters to me, personally, because a) I’ve been a journalist for most of my life, and b) I’ve resigned three positions in my career over disputes rooted in journalism ethics. Honestly, that’s not all that unusual. Most of the reporters and editors I admire have had to face similar conflicts and while they don’t always result in resignations, or firings, they can be incredibly stressful to resolve.

For the most part, the public seldom gets to know about these conflicts, as neither publishers nor reporters typically benefit from their disclosure. I also have a general sense that most people who consume journalism are unaware that there are codes of ethics for journalists and editors that we take seriously and to which we are expected to actively adhere.

I’ll be the first to admit it’s not a perfect system. Because of the First Amendment guarantees of free speech and a free press, government does license, or de-license publications. With but a few exceptions (primarily civil suits such as that brought by Dominion) publishers and broadcasters are expected to police themselves.

That’s always been a dicey proposition in our culture because of the prominence of advertising and other commercial speech (including political ads), much of which is awash with a sort of breathless hype that we’re all expected to take with grains of salt. Regrettably, I think we’re generally numb to it, and I think this numbness has spilled over into a cynicism toward journalism in general.

That said, it’s hard to understate how horrifying the Fox debacle is to most journalists. If you like to build and fly zeppelins it’s like watching the Hindenburg burst into flames. If you’re a doctor or a nurse, it would be like learning your hospital—the workplace where you dress the wounds and re-start the hearts—is the focus of a super-spreader event for a lethal virus.

Fox wasn’t just cutting corners. It was actively participating in the undermining of our democracy in ways that are plausibly be tied to the January 6, 2021 violent insurrection at the Capitol, and an ongoing and concerted push toward authoritarianism. We’re by no means out of the woods.

What bothers me most is the shrug—the cynical conclusion (not just from Republicans and Fox viewers) that “both sides” do it; that there’s no real difference between CBS News and Fox News, and no difference between right-wing rags like The Gateway Pundit and the New York Times.

My sense is we both have work to do—both journalists and readers/viewers who consume journalism.

As journalists, our ethics is our first line of defense. The imbalance of wealth (and security) between working journalists and the owners of their outlets matters. It sets up a power imbalance, and it’s why the doctrines of journalism ethics actually flow up, not down, from conscientious and organized professionals (i.e. The Society of Professional Journalists, the American Society of Newspaper Editors) to the owners of the outlets. I don’t have to tell you how precarious that is. (I can, I’ve lived it. But that’s for another day.) I will just underscore that it is precarious, especially at a time when local journalism, and the numbers of working reporters in medium to smaller markets is declining. Journalism ethics relies on buy in, from the news desk to the corporate board room. If there’s a disconnect there—if the search for profits quashes the incentives for quality reporting and ethical conduct—then that’s an ailing news operation.

What Fox demonstrated, and lives on to exemplify, is that profitability can be tragically detached not just from journalism ethics but from the basic compact of the free press and democracy. We owe our readers and viewers and our communities the truth, even if they spit it back at us.

As a reader and consumer of journalism my job and yours too, is to be skeptical and alert to what we read and view. If a newspaper dismisses its ombudsman or others charged with fielding and responding to complaints/questions from readers and viewers, that’s a red flag. If it apologizes for an error and does so on a page or a time-slot where the correction/apology will more likely be observed, that’s a good sign.

Finally, It’s not all that hard to recognize a quality, conscientious reporter or columnist. They’re golden. Follow their work and, as importantly, follow what happens to them. They’re the canaries in our coal mines. Listen to what they’re singing. Speak up for them when you can, to your neighbors, and especially to their publishers.

—tjc