Star Wars analogies, girls in bikinis, and the spirit of journalism

I’m not the most cynical person around when it comes to the practice of journalism today…really, I’m not. If I was completely cynical about what passes for a lot of the journalism being published these days—if I believed it was a lost cause, a total sellout to the evil forces of what David Shaw called “the four horsemen of the journalistic apocalypse: superficiality, sensationalism, preoccupation with celebrity, and obsession with the bottom line”—then I wouldn’t bother talking about it at all; there’d be no point. I feel there’s still some good in there, or can be, perhaps in the way that Luke Skywalker could feel the Anakin Skywalker that still remained within Darth Vader. I must still try to turn it back to the good side of the Force.

Many of my contemporaries in the post-Watergate generation went into journalism with an idealized and inflated vision of what journalists could do, and we really did (and do) believe in the vital importance of the role of journalism as a watchdog over government power, a role that was understood and respected by the Founding Fathers to a far greater extent than it is by today’s civic and government leaders and a growing percentage of the general public. But without doubt, the excitement of being a reporter was part of the attraction, too.

Jim Romenesko linked to a recent Brain Pickings post highlighting a 1940 Encyclopedia Britannica film from the Your Life Work series, which called the film an “idealistic manifesto for the deeper ethos of journalism as a calling.” Yea…and it’s funny to see how they were selling it to the pre-World War II student body; enjoy…

While you’re at it, take a look at this video that fights against itself trying to disprove the idea that a pretty girl in a bikini is not necessarily a distraction to effective instruction.

And when you’re done, nose around Brain Pickings…some interesting stuff there on the notion of creativity.

What I learned this week

First off, I learned that I got off track on the way to making my point in Monday’s post.  I was unhappy, but not surprised, that speculation about political influence as a motivation in the Tucson shootings was at the top of the agenda for every broadcast and cable network last weekend.

I think it is both natural and appropriate for us to wonder why someone would shoot 19 people in a grocery store parking lot, and it is a valuable service when journalists report what they’ve learned in their investigation.  But it is irresponsible and inflammatory of you, Mr. Fourth Estate, to let us listen to your imagination while you work.

It is said that there are two things you don’t want to see being made: sausage and legislation; journalism makes it three things.  If you don’t know something, say you don’t know—don’t then list all the speculative and unsubstantiated possibilities and rumors as if they all deserve equal and serious consideration…and certainly not at the point in time when you don’t even know the suspect’s name!

But, we need to say something to fill up the air time…no, you don’t.  When you’re finished reporting what you know, stop talking—go to a commercial; go back to regular programming and break back in to recap or when you have something new to report.  That need to fill time is one of the root causes of the decline in your standards and, as a result, the decline in the trust people put in you and your work.

Second, the capacity of the human body to withstand injury is just stunning.  A bullet fired from close range forced its way through Gabrielle Giffords’ head from front to back, and although in critical condition a week later she is making a miraculous recovery—moving her extremities, responding to commands, and today the doctors removed her breathing tube.

Third, you can’t outsmart crazy.  It seems clear that Jared Loughner didn’t open fire on the congresswoman and the crowd because of any perceived encouragement in the political speech of an elected official or candidate for office, or from radio or television entertainers; he’s mentally disturbed.  We could debate whether Arizona’s gun control laws made it too easy for a mentally disturbed man to legally acquire a gun, or whether people who knew Loughner should have tried, or tried harder, to get him help for his mental illness, but people (crazy and otherwise) can get guns no matter what the law allows, and we don’t lock people up because of what we think they might do. 

Last, we got off to a good start on a reasonably serious discussion about just what the hell it is that has people in this country so polarized about almost everything.  I’ll pick it up there next time.

Recommended reading 2:

It’s hard to miss the carping and hand-wringing about the sad state of journalism in America.  Most of that comes from journalists, of course…to paraphrase Jessica Rabbit, we’re not complainers, we’re just trained that way.

Some complaints—most of mine—are about the quality of what’s published and broadcast; a lot are warnings about the Internet killing newspapers or cheapening the product.  But I’m not going to blame the delivery boy for what’s in the imagepaper: for evidence that the Web does not necessarily equal poor journalism take a look at The Texas Tribune, and read the Columbia Journalism Review’s piece on how TT has done nearing its first anniversary.

The thing that makes journalism worthwhile is and will be the story, presented by a trustworthy source in an appealing way.  Newspapers and radio and television and the Internet (and other things we don’t know about yet) are means of delivering the story to the reader/listener/viewer.  Each has its advantages and limitations, but none are inherently incapable of doing good journalism.

Too early yet to say if The Texas Tribune is a success, but it looks to be on the right track.  Rather than trying to compete with local news sources or be all things to all people, it’s staked out a territory and hasn’t strayed.  It’s well written.  It has a sense of humor.  It’s even made some money along the way.  It’s worth bookmarking and checking in on from time to time.

The future of journalism…yesterday

I stumbled across this yesterday and haven’t stopped giggling.  This is a real book, circa 1965:

yourcareerjournalismcover2

“The journalist enjoys good standing in his community. He is even likely to be held in awe.”

“The story that a reporter worried and sweated over will be read by thousands and perhaps millions of people who will be informed, enlightened or amused. … He has prestige and influence that most persons can never hope to attain.”

“The day may not be far off when a city editor will say to a reporter, ‘Check your space gear. You’re going to the moon.'”

This is about a half-a-generation before my time; the journalism I went into in the 1970s was kind of “All the President’s Men” with a touch of “The Front Page,” and then I added a radio station to it.  I wouldn’t have been intrigued by “Ward Cleaver covers the school board,” especially if that had been a true characterization, and I’m having a hard time imagining who would have been.

Just how innocent was this country 45 years ago?  Was it common practice to lie give kids such a sterilized view of the world they were moving into?

More frightening: do we still do it?  (Hey, you parents: whaddya say?)