Nathaniel Wisnicki – Ryerson Review of Journalism :: The Ryerson School of Journalism

Hey, look: there’s an elephant in the room

Nathan Wisnicki — Tue, 27 Mar 2012 18:56:55 +0000

As it’s been a slow week for Canadian journalism (scandals), it looks like we’ll be leaning on America again for a source of ethical debate. This time, we shift to Wisconsin, where 25 Gannett employees have been called out in print by their publisher for signing a petition seeking the recall of Governor Scott Walker.

Kevin Corrado, publisher of the Green Bay Press-Gazette, issued an apology to readers on Friday, writing that “those who signed the petition were in breach of Gannett’s principles of ethical conduct…. [J]ournalists who work within a professional news organization must go to extra lengths to ensure against even the impression of favoring a candidate or a position.” And Walker, not the British 1960s heartthrob pop singer but the guy who removed collective bargaining rights for union workers, has not been popular with the leftish media, so something like this was bound to happen. (Twenty-nine circuit court judges already signed the petition, which itself was a matter of controversy, a story broken by journalists from none other than—drum roll—Gannett.)

Corrado deserves kudos for coming clean to readers when he could have easily kept the incident on the down-low. And the fact that the signers will be receiving some sort of disciplinary action shouldn’t come as a surprise: one of Gannett’s ethical principles states that “We will avoid potential conflicts of interest and eliminate inappropriate influence on content.” But this issue of journalists being discouraged from expressing a semi-public opinion on anything—signing a petition, having a sign on the lawn during an election season—is starting to seem like a sentiment from a bygone era.

Someone needs to explain—clearly, and preferably without yelling—how thinking and believing Walker should be recalled is so different from putting one’s name on a sheet. True, it may mean that said journalist is more out front with his biases, and perhaps even to an audience-insulting degree—that’s up to the discretion of the editors or publishers. But coming out against the principle of a “professional” journalist exhibiting a political opinion has always seemed a little patronizing to me; it’s as though the publishers assume readers are too stupid to think beyond the text and consider what biases may lie in or behind the writing—and biases will always show, whether you want them to or not. Respectable in archaic intent as Corrado may be, positions like his give the appearance of impartiality—which is unachievable, thank God—instead of the actual thing. It’s the idea that we should read with an elephant in the room. What if a journalist didn’t sign the petition, but wrote a column expressing similar sentiments? Is his other reportage then tainted as well? (Makes you wonder what would happen if a politician decided to do away with the collective bargaining rights of journalists. Who’ll write the news?)

The ironic thing is that Gannett is deciding not to release the names of the signatories, which seems to render the whole “transparency” idea rather moot. (Also, as pointed out on The Guardian’s blog, Corrado’s letter to readers was also published in other Gannett papers, with different bylines—though this seems to have been corrected now.)

In the upcoming issue of the Review, so lovingly put together by us all, there are a few feature stories that concern these types of dilemmas—specifically, when (and if) it’s okay for a journalist to cross the line and become something more (or less). There’s something to be said for the idea that journalists’ opinions could carry some well-reasoned weight (talking to people and finding their little facts, as they tend to do). One shouldn’t necessarily express one’s biases frivolously if such weight is to be maintained, of course. But this petition wasn’t (isn’t—an election is anticipated) a frivolous request. If you’ve got something to say, say it—you’re already thinking about it.

Lead image via Justin Sullivan/Getty Images

Crime and cover-up

Nathan Wisnicki — Tue, 21 Feb 2012 23:05:20 +0000

In lieu of giving Rupert Murdoch any more web space, why not turn our attention to glorious Russia for a few moments? The Putin government launched an official probe this week into an independent television station, Dozhd, which covered anti-government protests after the much-questioned parliamentary election last December. Prosecutors have summoned Dozhd’s chief executive, Natalya Sindeyeva, to explain how exactly her network funded its live coverage of the protests, suspecting possible outside (read U.S.) support.

Nothing out of the ordinary, really—just another kick in the ribs to an already-sputtering “democratic media.” But the the not-so-subtle investigation—and a similar instance last Wednesday in which liberal, Putin-critical radio station Ekho Moskvy had its management board dismissed—comes within weeks of the March 4 presidential election, signaling a scramble on the government’s part to quiet any dissenting media voice. It’s a bold move, even for a generally authoritarian state, and it may represent a continuation of the ongoing international debates around media ethics in this feral young century.

As reported by Nataliya Vasilyeva for the Associated Press: “Authorities previously had stayed away from intervening into the activities of independent media outlets because their coverage and existence helped deflect foreign criticism of Russia’s shrinking media freedoms and provided a safety valve for public discontent.”

Whether this could escalate to massive protests in the coming month is up in the air. (It’s hard to get a good reading on just how many anti- and pro-Putin protests there were this past weekend, with estimates ranging from 2,000 to “tens of thousands”…on both sides.) But intervention into journalism like this, in which the state isn’t even going to try to “subtle it up,” might be a few more steps too far. Russia’s too heavily reliant on “Western” media influence to hide any more; people with instant, finger-click access to life around the globe simply won’t tolerate blatant infringement of (or by) the press—not as much as they used to, anyway. As prominent Russian TV journalist Vladimir Pozner said in a Reuters interview, “something has changed, adding, “The genie is out of the bottle, and to put it back in would be exceptionally difficult, if at all possible.”

The stifling of Dozhd and Ekho Moskvy are two strikes in 2012; we’ll see if March 4 brings the third.

Lead image via Associated Press.

Designate, Regulate, Emulate

Nathan Wisnicki — Mon, 13 Feb 2012 21:32:29 +0000

A glass of wine sits on the floor of Massey College, casual yet precarious. I overhear a suit talking about someone doing “great work for the Huffington Post” as well-dressed intelligentsia move into the lounge for drinks and pleasantries.

“This is where we drink port and discuss Plato,” quips Rob Cribb, investigative journalist for the Toronto Star, as we slowly file in to the small library and wait. The shelves are filled with books on ethics and the history of journalism. We’re here for a debate.

In November 2009, Quebec Communications Minister Christine St-Pierre commissioned a report (PDF link) on the status of journalism. This led CBC journalist and Laval University professor Dominique Payette to suggest a status of “professional designation” for some Quebec journalists. This would entail preferential treatment by government sources and further protection of journalists under a code of ethics.

The reaction in English Canada, based on ensuing editorials, could only be described as a shit storm. The National Post’s Graeme Hamilton said that Payette “does not have faith in the laws of the market to provide adequate news to Quebecers.” Ezra Levant, in a Calgary Sun column, called St-Pierre “a natural censor,” made three references to the Soviet Union, and wondered “what kind of self-respecting, free society has a minister of communications?” (For the record, Canada did for almost 30 years. In 1996, when the position was abolished, our country re-emerged from a socialist dystopia and became free again.)

Three of the four debaters—Josh Meyer (national security journalist for the Los Angeles Times), Bert Bruser (a media lawyer at the Toronto Star), Esther Enkin (executive editor for the CBC), and Lise Millette (of the Presse Canadienne)—are in opposition to the move, one is in favour. (Guess, just guess.) Moderating is Julian Sher, author and award-winning freelance investigative journalist. The debate progresses as you’d expect, with most of the audience being in opposition.

And then an older woman, stone-faced through the rest of the proceedings, calls out to the three opposers without raising her hand: “It sounds like you’re just worried about this for yourselves!”

So, is she right?

——

At the controversy’s centre is the Fédération Professionnelle des Journalistes du Québec (FPJQ), a conglomeration of 2,000 Quebec journalists from Radio-Canada, Le Devoir, TVA, and other outlets. This debate has happened before—most recently in 2002—but this is the first time a full-fledged report has been produced and long-term action has been taken to negotiate with the Quebec government. (Two thousand and two’s proposal was killed on the floor.) When the designation issue was voted on for further action by the Quebec Press Council, the proposal gained seven yes votes and two nos, with three abstentions (including the CBC). The two opposing votes were The Gazette and an online publication called Rue Frontenac. But support during the fall and winter months has been withering during talks between the government and the press council.

“They couldn’t agree on who would have the greater say,” says David Johnston, The Gazette’s representative on the council. “The press council said—in its brief to the public hearings last week [the week of November 13]—it invited the government to set the rules on how that joint committee would work. In other words, government—whether directly or by arm’s length—would be deciding who a real journalist is and who isn’t.”

But in relation to government intervention, Dominique Payette herself wants to see the government very far from journalism: “What we wish to see is journalists talking to journalists and deciding who’s a journalist and who’s not.”

“The problem was that the day after we published the report, there [were] many mistakes [in] the way it was reported, especially in The Gazette,” Payette says. “They were talking about an ordre professionel—‘professional order’—which is very different from what we are promoting. So I knew that it would be difficult to go against a first mistake like that.”

In a way, this issue stands for two larger ones: a restructuring of Quebec politics on left-right lines as the threat of separation recedes, and a gap of misunderstanding between Québécois and anglophone journalists. Julian Sher, who works in Montreal, is in opposition to the FPJQ’s proposal, but holds a more understanding view of where it’s coming from.

“Quebec journalists didn’t suddenly drink stupid Kool-Aid in the morning and say, ‘We wanna be state-sanctioned stooges,’” says Sher. “And yet, if you look at some of the reaction in the rest of the country, that seems to be misinterpretation. [The FPJQ] are now saying that they’d walk away if the government was involved or was in control in any way. The main reason they want to do this is for protection of journalists dealing with big media monopolies.”

That the commission of the report has coincided with Britain’s News of the World phone-hacking scandal is strangely relevant, and may explain why the issue has pressed further ahead than in prior years.

And yet, the question of how the measure would deal with bloggers and “citizen journalists” is a key point for those in opposition. “They could’ve done that two, three years ago, when bloggers were less credible than they are today,” says David Johnston.

The official response from the Canadian Association of Journalists brought up that the public will return to bloggers if they, the public, have faith in the writer’s or blog’s practices, regardless of whether any of them receive a “professional” designation.

“There are so many people trying different kinds of journalism,” says Bert Bruser, media lawyer for the Toronto Star. “You have this concept of citizen journalists—people who are trying to get journalism into the world in different ways—and I think that that sort of thing needs to be encouraged, and it needs to flourish. And some sort of system where we’d license journalists in traditional media, well, I would counter that.”

But antagonism toward the FPJQ might be misdirected. It’s in fact the FPJQ itself that has raised concerns over the encroachment of government into the proposal’s sheer semantics. FPJQ president Brian Myles is assertive in his desire for government to be distanced from licencing itself: “I’ve stated many times that we don’t want to force this on everyone—we just want to provide certification for reporters and media outlets who want it. And you should have the chance to choose which model you want to follow.”

Complications have arisen, not unexpectedly, surrounding the disagreement between government, unions, and the press council over precisely what would define a journalist. Different perceptions mean difficulty in setting one specific code of ethics into place.

Millette elaborates: “The press council wants a law to force every enterprise to be a member of the press council. And if you are a journalist and you work for an enterprise who is not a member of the Press Council, you can’t be a professional. And we are opposed to that, too, because this is exactly the opposite of the spirit of the title.”

“Let’s say we give the state the right to create new organizations,” says Myles. “And we agree that, ‘well, your definition is sound. It’s gonna be put into effect in law.’ What happens in 10 years in our line of work, if the profession of reporter—if the business changes so much—that what was considered a reporter today is not the same thing in 10 years? For sure it’s gonna happen. Guess what happens for us? We have to knock on the National Assembly’s door to have those changes. So therefore, it’s not fully self-regulated any more, and this is why I’ve raised some red flags.”

Perhaps what’s most incensed anglophone journalists is the French-language test that comes in tandem with a status application. But Belgium and France already have professional status for journalists, with a test not unlike a bar exam for lawyers, or an exam that’s already taken in Quebec by translators, wherein those who apply to be a “professional translator” take an exam to become certified, even if they don’t have a diploma in translation.

What the debate reflects, though, is an anxious state of being in modern journalism. I’ll defer to Millette, relating an anecdote from the Massey College debate:

“There was someone from CBC, an old man, who said, ‘There was a time when I told my family member—or whoever—when I told them I was a journalist, I inspired something.’ And actually, I say exactly the same thing, and I don’t see the same light in their eyes.”

The next day, former News of the World reporter Paul McMullan told a public inquiry that “phone hacking is a perfectly acceptable tool, given the sacrifices we make, if all we are trying to do is get the truth.”

Casual, yet precarious.