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The Responsibility of Journalism
By Shaw Izikson, Winsted
Have you ever wondered how newspaper editors choose which stories to cover? Or, how television networks decide which stories to run? Each day, out of thousands of stories that happen in the world, only a scant few are chosen to be covered. Each news editor and news programmer determines to cover the story, usually based on the event's relevance to the community (if it was a local news program or newspaper), or the world (if it was a national news magazine or television program).
However, ever since September 11, editors and programmers have been cautious not to publish stories that, in their words: "may undermine national security." This trend began back in early October when National Security Advisor Condoleezza Rice, on behalf of the Bush Administration, asked news organizations not to air certain tapes containing speeches by Osama bin Laden. Most news organizations complied with the request, which, in effect, compromised the freedom of the press thanks to the power of the government. In essence, the "well-being" of the nation undermined the responsibility of the press to report the news—which is no better than the "bullying" reporters face daily under the government-controlled press in such places as Cuba and Russia.
Years ago, when I was an editor of a magazine in college, I came upon a similar situation—of course, on a much smaller scale. However, this news story tested our staff's (and my own) ethics and responsibilities to our community. We had a responsibility to our readers to cover the events that happened in our community. Yet, would the supposed "well-being" of the community be more important than covering a news story? Was it really much more important to keep ourselves quiet and not let folks know about important events that might affect them?
The story that I'm referring to happened back in spring of 1997, about a year before I graduated. A few of my casual friends gave me an unusual news tip. They told me that they had bumped into a former secretary who worked at the school. She had mysteriously left her job almost without a trace back in October. No one from the school seemed to have known why.
My friends told me that the secretary left the school because one of the workers there was sexually harassing her on the job. The worker in question was, quite literally, a legend at the school. He had graduated from the school decades before, and started to work for the school a few years after. He had worked there for nearly thirty years, and was well known by the community.
On a personal level, I honestly could not believe the story my friends were telling me. On a professional level, one of my jobs was to check into story leads, no matter how silly they might seem at first. So, rather reluctantly, I called the former secretary at her house. I retold the whole story my friends had told me, apologizing every few words, thinking that I was just embarrassing myself by repeating what I thought was a tall tale.
Then, in a rather reluctant tone of voice, she said: "Yes, it's all true."
We then began a correspondence through both e-mail and telephone about her story. She told me that the worker in question was, indeed, the culprit. Then she also explained about how the school took a very long time to handle it. In lieu of her bringing up any charges against him, the school gave her a settlement package, just as long as she hushed up about all the events and circumstances. In the settlement, the worker admitted that he was guilty, but the settlement also kept him on the job without any reprimand.
So here the school was, punishing students for lesser charges (such as yelling at the school cafeteria meal checker)—yet, according to the secretary, the school decided not to punish a longtime employee for alleged sexual harassment. And there we were, the staff of the magazine, on the very top of a possible big story that could have changed the way things worked at the school.
But was it all true or not? I wanted to investigate the story even further. I convened my staff for an emergency meeting. We talked for a very long time about everything: what our jobs as reporters were supposed to be, what the worker meant to the school community, what the secretary meant to the school community, what reporting on the story would mean for the school community. We talked, and argued for a very long time about so many questions that we had. Would we destroy the school from the inside out by covering this story? Wasn't it our job to cover news stories? Wasn't it our job to report to the public the way things are and what happens?
None of those questions mattered because, in the end, I was outvoted. The staff voted to not cover the story. They decided to let the incident just pass by them instead of investigating it any further. As one of the staff members put it: "If we cover a story such as this, being that [the staff member] is such a huge part of the school, we would be compromising the school's image—and, in effect, devaluing our diplomas." I didn't agree with the decision at all. I felt that the public had every right to know what their government (a.k.a. the school administration) was doing behind closed doors. It was their money, and their tuition that funded it, and they had every right to know what was going on. And we had every right to tell the public what was happening, because it was our job to tell the news, without any kind of "bullying" by the administration.
But in the end, we let it all slip by. I never got to look fully into the story. During my remaining semesters there, I only got brief "hints" here and there that told me whether the story was true or not. There was nothing that I could look into or substantiate, all because I wasn't allowed to question anything—just as the news organizations had to follow orders when the Bush Administration ordered them not to show or report on the bin Laden tapes, five years later.
As for what happened after that semester, it's pretty much just a substandard story that's typical for most students: the magazine ended when I left the school, the magazine staff all graduated and found work, and the "legendary" worker eventually was given a big retirement party. As for me, I've worked at several different newspapers and magazines through the years. Sometimes, when I cover a story, I can't help but to think back about the events that happened during that semester.
Since that time, I've learned to appreciate the press much more, despite its many flaws and imperfections. I have also learned about the responsibility we have towards our readers for telling a story, despite the fact that the reader may never understand the circumstances that each journalist faces on a daily basis in getting a story. But that's not the job of the reader. We’re here to write stories, and you’re here to (hopefully) read them.
Shaw Izikson also writes for <americanfeedmagazine.com>.
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