Journalism

I am a journalist.

I was trained how to find information, how to balance that information when portraying it, and how to craft the message portrayed to get the “hard news” across to a reading public.

The foundation of every hard news story was answering “who,” “what,” “why,” “when,” “where,” and “how” – summarized the “5 Ws” (somehow that “H” in there wasn’t counted, but a part of those “Ws”).

My university studies involved exploring the principles of journalism and writing in search for style to make reading information more interesting.

The creative part of journalism was how to use language – creating “the style” which separated one writer from another -- not creating the facts.

Journalists dealt in “fair and balanced” presentations out of respect for the reader and “style” to catch the reader’s attention.

Balanced meant a person wanted to say someone thinks “black,” that someone was offered the chance to say why he thought “white.”

If someone responded the person had an ulterior motive for painting someone’s position black, the person was asked to comment on the statement.

That’s the minimum effort for “fair and balanced” -- at LEAST a binary “yin and yang” sought out on every new topic. The better journalist explored the space between the binary thinking – potentially finding the consensus position most readers accepted.

Looking for consensus was the interesting part of the work, because it addressed the core question print journalists addressed in behalf of their readers – “what does it mean?”

It dealt with Jefferson’s concept of a free press – the service the media provided the American citizenry the information they needed to understand and run their government. Government, by the way, is that thing theoretically owned by “We the People” in the United States.

Journalists didn’t dictate what readers should think – they offered a range of what others who had opinions were thinking.

Back when I practiced professionally, being proven “biased” by mistakes in handling the facts was a failing grade. It meant there wasn’t enough exploration of the range – at least the extremities – of facts before the information was printed.

But those who wanted to control opinion threw the term out at a reporter when their viewpoint wasn’t aired to the exclusion of all other opinion. “Fair and balanced” goes out the window when the ego, rather than logic and fact, controls thinking.

It’s something a journalist was trained to understand.

I was reasonably successful as a practicing journalist – able to raise some critical issues in the community where I reported, with sufficient skill that the community was able to reach some consensus decisions.

It was a happy, exciting time in my working life because I got paid for something I enjoyed.

Like most careers, however, the happiness perspective was changed as I learned more about the business end of earning a salary.

My pay wasn’t in exchange for service, but to address a necessary part of marketing a business.

It started with reporting on those seeking votes in elections – the ones among them who wanted to control opinion rather than explore it.

They used the “bias” accusation to get their story aired to the exclusion of their opponent’s story.

It was a shock the first time the advertising manager – a guy who was friendly with me because he’d occasionally ask for a story in the on one of his accounts for the business section of the newspaper– started talking to me about local politics.

He didn’t live in the community, and appeared to be apolitical based on not taking sides in discussions of national politics.

But somehow he had an interest in a new city council candidate who was running a loud campaign in behalf of a yin perspective to the greater community’s yang. The campaign made a “good” story because proposing yin resulted in more in depth discussion of yin, yang, and ranges in between.

I didn’t realize the “yin” included some regular newspaper advertisers until inquiries about the loud candidate became more frequent and directive in nature.

“I don’t want to tell you what to do, but . . .”

Before too long, the question was asked by my editor -- an ambitious but introverted woman way in over her head in terms of managing what she perceived as discord. The advertising manager, while remaining friendly to my face (I suspect because of the business section bits) had raised the issue with the editor.

In time, the matter moved to the general manager’s office, where I was informed how the newspaper needed its business base, and the complaint was harming it.

My first response was to discuss “fair and balanced.”

My second was silence.

It became obvious that the news writers were viewed as people who filled the space between the ads – a space which grew as ads waned.

Ads waned because circulation dropped. Circulation dropped because stories were more and more truncated to avoid upsetting advertisers.

One which hurt was a ban on any about some workers picketing in front of a local dry cleaning establishment. A demonstration on the most travelled road in the community. The editor killed the stories on it because the dry cleaner advertised.

Acquaintances from the area would ask if I’d noticed the ruckus along the main drag. I couldn’t miss it, because it was on my way to and from work.

But, I could only tell them what I knew verbally – my stories didn’t make print.

In time, I found another career, and moved along. The adversiting manager left for a better commission, the news editor had resigned, and the general manager was fired.

I left between the time the editor resigned and the manager was fired.

I’d learned something about “the business of news.”

That lesson is reinforced by actions in the media today.

Take care,

jim