ePluribus Media Community || citizen journalism, for the people, by the people

Self-Censoring or Common Decency?

Fri Jan 12, 2007 at 07:16:41 PM EST

A bit more than thirty years ago, I spent a little time as a reporter for a small daily in Rhode Island. Most of what I did involved school committees and village councils in outlying communities, but sometimes I was allowed feature assignments. For me, the plum of these left me wandering around a county fair for a week, staff photographer in tow. We had a grand time exploring the fair, interviewing people and preparing friendly stories on potters and pigs.

On Saturday, the fair ended with a performance by an old-timey band ("Don't call it `Bluegrass,'" the leader warned me) and a beauty pageant whose contestants were local high-school seniors. Though I really wanted to stick with my story on the musicians, I knew that I had better feature the young women, so I settled on the grass beyond the stage and the photographer (as usual) prowled around for his shots.

ethics :: :: :: buzz-it!

Only one of the contestants had real sparkle; not only was she quite attractive, but she was clearly both talented and smart. During one of his passes within earshot of my resting place, the photographer and I agreed that it was no contest, really.

At the end, the judges did that usual beauty-contest thing of announcing the rankings of the finalists from the bottom up. You know, "the fourth runner-up is... " and then the third, and so on. Finally, there were only two left, and the envelope was opened, stating who the first runner-up (and, therefore, the winner) would be.

The sparkly one, of course, was still standing, as was another young woman whose progress had surprised me. She showed no talent, no particular interest, and did not speak well. Oh, and she was rather plain.

The photographer had edged up to the stage and, I saw, had his camera focused on Miss Sparkles, ready to snap the reaction to victory. The announcer looked at the sheet and read off the name of the first runner-up.

The photographer got a picture all right, but it wasn't the one we had expected. He printed it, though there was no way it was ever going to get used. I think he just wanted to see it, as did I. For it showed a young woman in shock and disbelief.

The lesser candidate, of course, had won.

Ever the professional, the photographer had quickly gotten a shot that we could use--and I had soon managed to get a few cliched words from the chief judge, a woman of some renown and power in the town, a woman who had contributed quite a lot to the community.

Unsatisfied, I started asking questions around, trying to find out a bit more about the winner--but not through anyone associated with the contest. I knew I would never be able to print anything I found that way, but I dearly wanted to know why the one young woman had won.

It didn't take me long: a few questions determined who her parents were. A few more, and I knew the names of her aunts and uncles--a group that included that chief judge I'd interviewed who, I also discovered, was the prime organizer of the pageant.

Even had I wanted to, I could not have included that in the story. Though it might have been lots of fun to see that picture of the runner-up on the front page over an exposé of the pageant, I would never have done that. The damage to the runner-up would not have been undone (it probably would have been exacerbated) and the winner would have been humiliated. It wasn't my place to write something like that, anyway--I was supposed to be making people feel positive about the fair. Oh, and the paper never would have printed such a story--if for no other reason than the aunt's power in the town.

Was what the paper and I did good journalism? No. But, sometimes, humanity needs to triumph over professionalism. Yes, the pageant may have needed reforming, but the damage was small. The damage to the town from exposure could have been much greater, ending up with various camps hating each other and the aunt's positive contributions neutralized (at best).

Now, I'm not saying what I did (or didn't do, to put it more accurately) was right, simply that it was more appropriate, given the circumstances.

The decision I made not to pursue the story into print (and the decision the paper would surely have made not to publish it) fit well within the newspaper ethos of the time, the same ethos that had allowed reporters in Washington, DC more than a decade earlier to sleep well at nights--though they knew they were not reporting all the "news" (Jack Kennedy's `assignations,' for example) they collected.

Strangely, one of the downfalls of journalism, reaching its depths in the Clinton years, was a new belief that "professionalism" demanded the pursuit of any story and the printing of all of them, no matter how unseemly. "Professionalism" trumped both community and propriety--and led to what?

To little more than disdain for the "profession" and unfortunate distraction from the real issues of the day.

Is that a more worthy outcome?

Self-Censoring or Common Decency? | 2 comments (2 topical, 0 hidden)

Thought provoking, Aaron (none / 0) (#1)

to look at these salacious tidbits as a drug that takes us (as in average joe-doke citizens) away from concentrating on hard news. Your description of the internal dialog that led you to make the decisions you made about the story is also illuminating!

by Cho on Sat Jan 13, 2007 at 12:03:36 PM EST

If only life were this simple (none / 0) (#2)

But ethics and morals are not absolute, despite popular notions to the contrary. And to argue the criteria for "news" at a county fair beauty pageant should guide decisions about stories on national politics, relies on the same calcified thinking that would equate testing lipstick on rabbits, with bashing monkeys in the head to better understand traumatic brain injury. The latter is deeply disturbing to watch, but is that ample reason to discontinue it?

In fact, the newspaper above did practice good journalism because it reported the known facts of the story. Any conclusion that the contest was rigged, stemmed from a rather harsh assessment that the winner showed "no talent," was not "interested" (or "interesting?"), did not "speak well," and was "rather plain." And the hasty investigation uncovered nothing more substantive than the winner was related to people who may have been able to exerted influence.

Besides, "beauty is in the eye of the beholder," is it not?

One of unavoidable realities of journalism is that sometimes people make poor decisions and in so doing thrust themselves into the spotlight, where the court of public opinion may well deliver a sentence that is overly severe compared to the 'crime.' But that is by no means a valid reason to withhold from the public, say, knowledge of partisan activities -- confirmed on the record as a "conflict of interest" -- that could bear on future federal elections. That is censorship. Quashing a story like that assumes too much.

Consider James Guckert, aka Jeff Gannon. It is widely, and erroneously repeated that for a time he was "working as a gay escort." No such evidence exists. This statement is made far too casually by many who claim to practice journalism. It is much more likely that Gannon used nude photos of himself to advertise escort services that either did not exist or in which he did not actively participate. His pictures appear to have been used to generate "click-through" commissions, from a host of vendors that have never been definitively identified. And during numerous interviews with Gannon, people who know him well -- both supporters and detractors -- employers, co-workers, and former lovers, everyone said essentially the same thing: it was highly unlikely Gannon worked as an escort. However it is consistent with Gannon's history, and the statements of those above, to exaggerate and claim to have done things he had not.

James Guckert was pilloried for his bad choices, despite committing no crime nor breaching any civil code resulting in a penalty. But with his unabashedly partisan question, Jeff Gannon drew attention to himself in the context of a presidency besieged with accusations of lying to and concealing information from the public. And it was that context that drove the public to override the mainstream media and turn Jeff Gannon's life into a news story.

Gannon, in fact, became entrenched in the James S. Brady Press Briefing Room because his fellow reporters concluded that despite being a 'plant' and an "oddball," he was but one of several. Gannon's partisanship had become the norm at White House briefings. Why pick on the poor snook who sits between the FOX News and Washington Times correspondents? And for roughly two years they failed to report the Jeff Gannon story. And that failure tarnished their reputations.

When Gannon thrust himself into the national spotlight, the voters decided they wanted more information. Sadly, Gannon's sexual preference and nude photos were disseminated far and wide before determining if they were in any way relevant. Sadder still, most people who discuss Jeff Gannon as news continue to insinuate he was a male escort, despite no foundation of fact and/or relevance.

To answer the last half of the question posed by this commentary requires another question: who decides what constitutes "common decency?" By definition, any individual with that authority is a "censor."

As to the first part of the question, "self-censoring" is an individual choice. But individual choices that affect others cede their right to privacy. They become subject to the ethos of the community in which they reside.

In last years' terrific (IMO) documentary "This Film Is Not Yet Rated" director Kirby Dick exposes, among other things, the members of the Motion Picture Association of America's ratings board, who decide whether a movie will be rated G, PG, PG-13, R, or given the dreaded NC-17. The board's ratings serve as the guideline for parents all across the country. And yet the membership of this board, who decides for everyone how to partition "common decency," is kept secret, and meets behind closed doors to render their verdict. And though the MPAA allows these rulings to be challenged, the process is manages somehow to be even less transparent. The board will, however, offer suggestions to movie makers whose films are still being reviewed, serving as both de facto editors and the pubic hair police.

In an interview last September with eFilmcritic.com, director Kirby Dick summarized this aspect of the film:

"What I feel is wrong is that these people have participated in a system where they have made decisions that are in the public interest yet have agreed to remain anonymous. That, I think, is entirely wrong-if people are making decisions in the public interest, they should either be public people or not participate in that system.

"To the politician and a priest
We're in the belly of the beast
Because we fed it"

Amos Lee, "Freedom"

by Todd Johnston on Sat May 19, 2007 at 07:33:28 PM EST

Self-Censoring or Common Decency? | 2 comments (2 topical, 0 hidden)

Support ePluribus Media -- Support Citizen Powered Journalism!