Munich American
Peace Committee (MAPC)
Radio Lora, 12. Jan. 2009
Alternative Radio
Robert McChesney
Über Macht und Ohnmacht
des Journalismus in den USA
Asheville, NC, 7. Mai 2002
Robert McChesney ist
Professor
für Kommunikationswissenschaften an der Universität
von
Illinois in Urbana-Champaign. Der führende Kritiker der
Medienindustrie ist Autor von "Telecommunications, Mass Media and
Democracy" und "Rich Media, Poor, Democracy"
Ich fürchte, dass ich heute schlechte Nachrichten für
Sie
habe. Weil man nur verändern kann, was man versteht,
möchte
ich Ihnen einige konkrete Beispiele dafür geben, wie
Journalismus
heute funktioniert.
In einer Demokratie hat Journalismus drei Aufgaben:
1.) Er muß ein wachsames Auge haben auf die
Mächtigen und Möchtegernmächtigen.
2.) Er muß uns vielfältige Informationen zu den
wichtigsten
aktuellen Fragen liefern, damit wir uns ein eigenes Bild machen
können.
3.) Die Informationen müssen zuverlässig sein. Da ein
Medium
allein dies nicht leisten kann, muß jeder Bürger
Zugang zum
gesamten Meinungsspektrum haben.
Viele glauben, dass alles in schönster Ordnung wäre,
wenn nur
die Medien objektiver wären. Gewiss, Objektivität hat
Vorteile, aber auch Nachteile.
Heute, in Zeiten des Berufsjournalismus, fordert man fairen, genauen
und unparteiischen Journalismus. Das ist nicht falsch, solange man
nicht wie in den USA Unfaires, Ungenaues und Parteiisches als fair,
genau und unparteiisch verkauft. Es geht um die Balance zwischen dem
Berufsethos der Journalisten und den Interessen der
Blatteigentümer und Anzeigenkunden. Die Geburtsstunde des
modernen
Berufsjournalismus war gleichzeitig auch die der PR-Industrie. Es
heißt, dass heute 40- bis 70% der Nachrichten
von
PR-Firmen geliefert werden. So spart die Medienindustrie mit schlechtem
Journalismus viel Zeit und viel Geld.
Und wie steht es um die Balance zwischen der Kritik an der Politik und
der Kritik an der Wirtschaft? Der Kommunikationswissenschaftler Ben
Bakdikain behauptet, dass die Politikerschelte überwiegt.
Charles
Lewis, der Gründer des Center for Public Integrity,
liefert
dafür die Beweise: lädt er zu einer Pressekonferenz
über
Politikerskandale ein, ist die Hölle los. Ist die
Abhängigkeit der Politik von der Medienindustrie das Thema,
herrscht lähmendes Schweigen. Kritik an Wirtschaftsvertretern
ist
tabu. Aber guter, sauberer Journalismus muß sich an
den
Eliten reiben. Doch damit ist es bei uns schlecht bestellt. Es gibt
folgende Tabus:
Auf republikanischer wie demokratischer Seite besteht Einigkeit
darüber, dass die USA und nur die USA das
uneingeschränkte
Recht haben, unbehelligt jedes beliebige Land, aus beliebigen
Gründen, zu jedem beliebigen Zeitpunkt angreifen zu
dürfen.
Allerdings gelang es 1989 einer unerschrockenen
Schülerzeitung,
Außenminister James Baker mit der Frage nach der
Legitimität
des Überfalls auf Panama in Verwirrung zu stürzen.
Seither
hat niemand mehr diese Frage gestellt.
Kapitalismus und Demokratie werden in unseren Medien ebenfalls nicht
diskutiert, denn Kapitalismus ist Demokratie, sagen die
Eliten.
Venezuela ist dafür ein sehr gutes Beispiel: Hugo
Chavez
wurde demokratisch gewählt, aber er ist gegen die
amerikanischen
Ölinteressen. Deshalb hat er die Wahl gewonnen und deshalb
hassen
ihn die amerikanischen und venezulanischen Eliten, deshalb
stürzten sie ihn. New York Times und Washington Post
bejubelten
die Einsetzung des IHK-Präsidenten, der sofort alle
verfassungsmäßigen Organe absetzte, als
demokratische
Errungenschaft. So werden Kapitalismus und die Interessen der Reichen
geschützt.
- 2 -
Aber es ist nicht allein der Einfluß der
Wirtschaft, der
unseren Journalismus lähmt. Auch bei frei
zugänglichem
Quellenmaterial kann ein Skandal unter den Teppich gekehrt werden. So
wie 2000 bei den Wahlen in Florida. Diese Wahl spiegelt das ganze
Dilemma unseres Journalismus. Was war passiert? Al Gore hat die
Florida-Wahl gewonnen. Wir wissen, dass die Mehrheit der
Wähler in
Florida ihre Stimme Al Gore geben wollte. Al Gore hat Florida und damit
die Präsidentschaftswahl gewonnen. Laut unserer Medien hat
jedoch
George W.Bush gewonnen, in Florida und im ganzen Land. Er sei der wahre
und legitime Präsident. Was ist aus dem Journalisten-Schwur,
nur
der Wahrheit zu dienen, geworden?
Erinnern wir uns. Es war knapp, es ging um 300 oder 500 Stimmen bei 6
Millionen Wählern. Jeder ahnte, dass das Nachzählen
der 6
Millionen Wahlzettel noch lange dauern würde. Aber bereits um
3
Uhr früh erklärte Fox News George W.Bush zum Sieger.
Und wer
bei Fox News erklärte George W. Bush zum Sieger? John Ellis,
George W.Bushs Cousin! Die Republikaner behaupteten einfach, Bush
hätte gewonnen, während die Demokraten vorsichtig auf
die
Ergebnisse der Nachzählungen warteten. Viele der
Nachzählungen waren ein Riesenschwindel oder fanden gar nicht
erst
statt. Aber niemand kümmerte sich darum. Die Medien
berichteten
das, was ihnen die Parteien erzählten, sie recherchierten
nicht
selbst.
Diese Untätigkeit der US-Journalisten und die mangelnde
Bereitschaft der Demokraten, für ihren Sieg zu
kämpfen,
führte zu einer weltweiten Blamage. Es waren BBC, Mirror,
Guardian
und Observer die im November die Story des in England
lebenden
amerikanischen Reporters Greg Palast ganz groß
herausbrachten.
Er hatte herausgefunden, dass Katherine Harris, die Justizministerin
von Florida, erstmals in der Geschichte der USA die Erstellung der
Liste, der nicht wahlberechtigten Verbrecher outgesourct hatte. Rein
zufällig war die Firma, die diesen Auftrag bekam, in
republikanischen Händen. Sie präsentierte eine Liste
von
57,700 Namen - leider war diese Liste falsch. Sie enthielt falsche
Personen, falsche Namen oder die Namen von Nichtbetroffenen, deren
Namen nur so ähnlich klangen wie die Namen von Verbrechern. So
wurden Tausende Wähler, meist Arme und darunter besonders
viele
Afroamerikaner und Latinos zu unrecht an den Wahllokalen abgewiesen.
Der Clou der Geschichte ist, dass CBS bereits im November an Palasts
Story interessiert war, aber nach einem Anruf bei Gouverneur Jeb Bush
davon überzeugt wurde, dass an der ganzen Sache nichts dran
sei!
Nach der unsäglichen Entscheidung des Obersten Gerichtshofes
gingen die Medien auf Zehenspitzen, um es sich mit dem angeblichen
Präsidenten ja nicht zu verderben. Unvergeßlich dann
ein
Jahr später die Berichte nach der Bekanntgabe des offiziellen
Ergebnisses der Nachzählungen. Gut versteckt im 16.
Absatz
gestand die New York Times ein, dass Al Gore die
Wahlen
gewonnen habe. Warum erst jetzt?
Hintergrund dieser Zurückhaltung war nicht so sehr politischer
Druck, als viel mehr rein wirtschaftliches Interesse. Wer, wie Sunner
Redstone für CBS zwischen 30 bis 40 Milliarden Dollar bezahlt
hat,
der erwartet, dass sich diese Investition lohnt, der pfeift auf den
journalistischen Code. Diese Leute wollen Gewinne sehen, sie sind keine
Wohltäter der Menschheit. So nimmt der wirtschaftliche Druck
auf
die Journalisten ständig zu. Man spart Kosten, man
kündigt
und man stellte seit Mitte der 80er Jahre die Auslandsberichterstattung
ein.
Es gibt ihn noch, den guten, ja hervorragenden Journalismus, aber
leider fehlt die Resonanz.
Morton Mince von der Washington Post entdeckte in kleinen wie in
großen Blättern überraschend viele gut
recherchierte
Berichte über Straftaten. Sie erschienen einmal, wurden aber
nie
weiterverfolgt, es gab keinerlei Reaktion der Politiker,
höchstens
glätteten
PR-Leute die eine oder andere Woge, nichts
änderte
sich, alles blieb beim Alten. Ich stimme Morton Mice zu, dass die Krise
des Journalismus die Krise unserer Demokratie ist. Demokratie braucht
Journalismus und Journalismus braucht Demokratie. Wenn von Straftaten
berichtet wird und sich nichts rührt, weil das
politische
System so korrupt ist, dann wird Journalismus
überflüssig.
Das Maß der Korruption in unserem politischen System
übersteigt heute alles bisher Dagewesene. Das bringt den
Journalismus in eine schwierige Lage. Man recherchiert und
verfaßt Exposes und niemand interessiert sich dafür.
Unsere
Medien sind nicht mehr ein Korrektiv der Korruption in Politik und
Wirtschaft, sondern Teil des Problems.
- 3 -
Nun zum wichtigsten Punkt meines: Vortrages: der Weltkrieg gegen das
Böse, in dem wir uns augenblicklich befinden. Als die
Attentäter am 11. September zuschlugen, sahen sich die
Journalisten mit einem klassischen Dilemma unseres Landes konfrontiert.
In den letzten 100 Jahren waren die USA an 75 Kriegen beteiligt. Seit
1914 sind es immer Lügen der Präsidenten mit denen
das
amerikanische Volk in den Krieg gelockt wird. In den 30er und 40er
Jahren wollte Franklin D. Roosevelt in den Krieg ziehen und so log er
unablässig, bis er es geschafft hatte. Woodrow Wilson, 1916
noch
der "Kandidat für den Frieden", plante bereits
für 1917
den Kriegseintritt. 1964 war Lyndon B. Johnson der "Friedenskandidat".
Er werde uns nie nach Vietnam schicken, beteuerte er. Es schmerzt,
nachlesen zu müssen, dass er bereits seit 1964 alles
für den Kriegseintritt vorbereitet hatte.
Und in dieser dunklen Stunde hatte uns der Journalismus verraten. Der
1. Weltkrieg war ein sinnloses Abschlachten. Ein ebenso sinnloses
Abschlachten war Vietnam, wo viele von Ihnen wie ich nahe
Angehörige verloren haben. Hätte der Journalismus
damals
seine Pflicht und Schuldigkeit getan, hätten diese
Menschen
nicht sterben müssen. Das ist die Lehre die wir weitergeben
müssen.
Zum Schluß möchte ich noch über
Enron sprechen.
Enron ist genau so wichtig, wie die Wahl von 2000 und wie der 9.
September 2001, denn es geht hier an die Wurzeln unserer
korrupten Wirtschaftspolitik. Der Fall Enron zeigt, wie die
Wirtschaft die Arbeitnehmer ausbeutet, die Politiker besticht und die
Verbraucher betrügt, ohne dass sich irgend jemand
darüber
empört. Noch vor eineinhalb Jahren galt Enron als ein
Musterbeispiel der New Economy. Der Skandal kam
völlig
unerwartet. Wird der Bankrott von Enron unsere Dreyfus-Affaire.? Werden
die engen Beziehungen zwischen Politik und Wirtschaft
aufgedeckt?
Nein, denn man tut so, als handle es sich um eine simple Firmenpleite.
Ein gewisser Arthur Anderson hat Unterlagen geschreddert und dubiose
Buchalter haben Zahlen manipuliert, aber niemand spricht von
der
wichtigsten, nämlich der politischen Seite dieser Affaire.
Enron
hat sie alle gekauft, Rechte wie Linke: Joe Lieberman, Tom Daschle,
George W. Bush und Dick Cheney, sie alle besitzen dicke Enron
Aktienpaketen. Sie alle stecken unter einer Decke. Niemand
wünscht
sich eine Dreyfus-Affaire, denn dann wären sie alle selbst
dran,
und mit ihnen das gesamte korrupte politische System.
Viele Zuhörer fragen mich, warum ich nicht resigniere. Ich
resigniere nicht, weil ich sehe, wie sehr sich die Wirtschaft
bemüht, zu verhindern, dass all diese Dinge an die
Öffentlichkeit kommen und dort diskutiert werden. Sie wissen,
wie
ich, dass die Menschen wütend werden, wenn sie das alles
erfahren
und es dann schnell ändern möchten. Deshalb
unternimmt die
Medienindustrie alles in ihrer Macht stehende, um diese
öffentliche Debatte verhindern. Deshalb ist es an
uns,
endlich alles ans Licht zu bringen.
Ich schließe mit einem Zitat von Noam Chomsky. Den vielen
Menschen, die fürchten, es sei nicht möglich, es sei
zu
schwierig, es lohne sich nicht, die Welt zu ändern, weil die
Mächtigen zu stark sind, antwortet er: "Sie haben die Wahl."
Wenn wir glauben, dass es keine Hoffnung auf eine Änderung zum
Guten gibt, dann wird es keine Änderung zum Guten geben: Sie
können wählen. Ich danke Ihnen.
ROBERT McCHESNEY
Write What We Say, Not What We Do
Asheville, NC 7 May 2002
Robert McChesney is Professor of Communications at the University of
Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. He is a leading critic of corporate
media. He is the author of Telecommunications, Mass Media and
Democracy. His latest book is Rich Media, Poor Democracy.
Now, in this talk, I’m mostly going to be the bearer of bad
news.
I think you can’t change anything until you understand how it
works and why it works. This is my bad news talk. I’m going
to try and tell you, concretely, how our journalism works the way it
does, why it does, and to give you some concrete examples of recent,
crucial stories and go through them to show you how it works. I think
implicit in this, and certainly explicit in my presentation will be the
explanation for why this is disastrous for democracy, and why
we’ve got to change our media, and change our journalism if
we’re going to have a viable democracy. It’s not
really an abstract matter. It’s not really as if
we’re talking about a tangential issue. This goes right to
the heart of the future of this country. It’s absolutely
central to what direction this country, and frankly this planet, is
going to go in the next 25, 50, 75 years. The politics of media, which
I’ve talked about in all my other talks—how we can
change it, what we can do to improve the system—I’m
going to lay off in this talk. This is the critique that leads to that
talk.
This is the talk I should have given first, but I’m giving it
last.
But the point you should keep in the back of your mind throughout this
talk, which should be clear I hope, is that media systems are created.
They are the result of public policies. All forms of media are
regulated. There is no such thing as free media. There is always
someone paying the piper, always someone calling the tune. The
questions in a democracy are whose values are going to be served, how
accountable are these media going to be, and who are they going to be
accountable to.
Those are the central issues that we can affect. And we have got to
organize around these issues to change our media.
Let’s explain what the problem is today. Let’s just
talk a little bit about the nature of the problems we have. Journalism
is mandatory in society and governance. You see it’s role
most clearly in the relationship between society and governance when
you look at an authoritarian society. When there is a coup or
something, the first thing they do is take over the TV stations, the
newspapers, the radio stations, and the internet service providers.
They understand that control over the means of communication is central
to the exercise of political governance.
In a democracy, it’s mandatory that you have some sort of
decent form of journalism to have self-governance and make it possible.
This journalism is going to be spawned by the media system. The
structure of the system, how it is set up, will go a long way toward
determining the quality of the journalism that comes out of that
system. Structural issues are mandatory in explaining the nature of
your content. What do we need from journalism in a democracy? What are
the things we need?
Well, what I’m going to say is really standard issue
political theory. This is nothing especially radical. Although now to
talk about basic democratic theory, you almost want to look over your
shoulder: “This seems like pretty radical
stuff—they’re talking about self
government!” What we need from journalism in a democracy are
three things. First, we need a watchdog over people who are in power
and people who want to be in power, in both the public and private
sector. We need them to be held accountable, so we know what they are
doing. If journalism doesn’t do it, we simply don’t
know. We can’t govern ourselves. We can’t govern
them. We can’t rule them. Secondly, we need a wide range of
informed opinion on the most important issues of the day. That helps us
put together our own opinions. We can evaluate other positions, sift
through them, debate them, think them through, and then come to an
informed decision. Third, we have to have a media system which can
generate reliable facts, so we can know what the truth is, get to the
truth of the matter, and weed out lies from truth. Now we
can’t expect every single medium to do that. But what we
should expect is that an average person, a citizen, would have access
to all that material through a combination of media which they could be
exposed to. That’s not too much to ask from a democratic
society. That should be our goal.
Given that as a goal, what would you say the state of journalism is
today? Well, I’d say, I’d give a grade of a D
minus. I think our media, our journalism in particular, is completely
failing us. I think in terms of watchdog, and I’ll talk about
this, the private sector is virtually off limits from any serious
watchdog activity over corporate malfeasance. Public sector malfeasance
is only covered within a narrow range. It covers fights between the two
dominant parties, otherwise it slides by without a shred of coverage.
Reliable facts and truthfulness are completely discarded for the most
part, and I’ll talk about that too, coming up, when we
discuss the Florida election in 2000. And then third, the range of
opinion, the range of informed opinion: I think Jeff Cohen, the
reporter for Fairness and Accuracy in Reporting, hit the nail on the
head: “We have a range of opinion in our media system that
extends all the way from GE to GM.” We have serious problems.
Now the reasons for this aren’t exclusively corporate
control. I’m going to talk a lot later about how corporate
concentration and the profit motive have really squeezed journalism in
the last ten or fifteen years. You will find lots of books by former
journalists or even current journalists talking about the crisis of
journalism as a public service due to corporate and commercial pressure
in the last ten or fifteen years. That’s not new. My argument
goes a lot deeper than that. My argument goes far beyond that.
That’s part of the problem, but it’s not just the
problem. That makes it sound like 20 years ago everything was
hunky-dory. When it wasn’t. We had problems twenty years ago,
very serious problems with our journalism, although it’s
worse today.
And here it’s good to think about something called
“objectivity.” Often times, I’ll talk to
people about journalism, and they’ll say, “Yeah,
you’re right, the media suck, what we need is more
objectivity. If they were objective, everything would be fine, just
like the good old days.” (And they usually use that accent
too.) There is a notion that objectivity was something that the
Founding Fathers cooked up. Benjamin Franklin, Tom Paine, and Samuel
Adams got together in a tavern and said, “What sort of
journalism would protect2 democracy? How about objectivity?
Non-partisan, neutral journalism that has no opinion. That’s
the solution.” In fact, objectivity didn’t even
come about until the beginning of the 20th century. For the first 120
years of our history, we had a stridently partisan journalism. The
journalism of the Founding Fathers, the journalism of the first three
generations of this republic was phenomenally partisan. The front page
was partisan—you didn’t have to wait until the
editorial page to know where a newspaper was coming from. The owner and
the editor were one and the same. You knew who owned the paper, and you
knew the politics—they were that person’s politics,
period. That’s how journalism worked for the first 120 years,
nothing objective about it, nothing neutral whatsoever. This was a very
different style of journalism than we have today.
Objectivity has certain merits, which we’ll talk about, but
it also has flaws.
Let’s discuss the origins of objectivity. Why did it pop out
of the sky in the early 20th century? Why didn’t we continue
with the partisan system that worked so well? Some of you who study
American history will have a sense of the partisan system. Look at some
of the newspapers, if you get a chance, during the Civil War. See how
the Northern newspapers covered Abraham Lincoln. The worst thing the
biggest right-wing kook ever said about Bill Clinton doesn’t
come close to the treatment Abraham Lincoln got from the Northern press
during the Civil War. You want to talk about partisan journalism. It
was a stridently partisan institution throughout the 19th century. Why
did it change? Or why didn’t it change?
Well, this is what happened. Over the course of the 19th century, our
newspaper industry became increasing a capitalist system. It started
off as largely partisan—it’s goal was to help
parties win elections. Then entrepreneurs figured out you could make a
lot of bucks publishing these things and selling them and selling ads.
And that logic gradually took over.
But the partisanship remained, even though it was by now primarily a
commercial enterprise. But it was also a much more competitive market.
So if you were in a city like St. Louis in 1870 or 1875, there were
fifteen daily newspapers in St. Louis. All were partisan, all had
distinct points of view, but there were
fifteen of them. You could really pick and choose. The market was so
competitive, that if you didn’t like one of those fifteen,
you could start the sixteenth paper with a different point of view. It
worked pretty well. There were flaws with it, I don’t want to
romanticize it, but the partisan system works well as long as
you’ve got a lot of different viewpoints and people can add
their new ones. In fact, that’s what the First
Amendment’s “free press” is all about
protecting, the ability to start new partisan viewpoints. What
happened? Well, the logic of newspaper economics changed radically
toward the late 19th century. What happened was that the rise of
advertising made it so that most newspaper markets winnowed down to
becoming one or two newspaper markets. By the early 20th century, that
was the rule in most small towns. I doubt Ashville had more than two or
three papers 80 or 100 years ago. It may have only had one for all I
know. Most American cities were like than.
Now partisan journalism when you’ve only got one or two
newspapers looks a lot different than when you’ve got fifteen.
When you’ve only got one or two newspapers and it’s
impossible to start a new newspapers, as it is with newspaper markets
due to the logic of those markets, stridently partisan journalism
smells like month old fish. It’s not unlike the sort of
stridently partisan journalism you had in the Soviet Union where you
had the Party line and that was it, you either bought it or you went
out. You had no choice because you couldn’t start another
paper to compete with it. You’re stuck with it. And this
partisan journalism in the Progressive Era, in the first decade of the
20th century, was stridently pro-capitalist and anti-labor.
Yet the dominant social movement of that time was the labor movement.
It was the movement of workers to improve their standard of living. The
press couldn’t have been more viciously, hostilely, or
directly anti-labor than they were in the first ten or fifteen years of
this century.
This became the foundation for the rise of objective or professional
journalism. This was a crisis for the system. It was a political crisis
in the sense that if you read our newspapers, magazines and political
speeches from that period, this was a political obsession for people.
But if it was just a problem for democracy it wouldn’t have
changed the system. It also became a problem for commercial newspaper
publishing. The large newspaper publishers were facing a dilemma. If
people didn’t trust their newspapers, they wouldn’t
buy them and they would lose their advertisers. It became bad for
business. This was the groundswell to understand the solution to that
crisis of capitalist journalism, of monopolistic newspaper markets in
the early 20th century. That solution was professional journalism.
That’s the birth of objectivity. That’s the
cauldron that gave birth to the modern notion of non-partisan
journalism. The revolutionary idea of professional journalism was that
for the first time you take the owner and the editor—which
were linked, which were one and the same for the first 120 years of the
republic—and you split them, like splitting the atom. Owners
would be over here with the advertisers, making the money. The
“Chinese Wall” is here, and on the other side are
the editors and the reporters: separation of
“church” and “state.” They
would not meet. So if you read a newspaper in a monopoly town, you read
the front page, you won’t know the politics of the owner. It
will be neutral, professional journalism. Where will these professional
journalists come from? Well, they will be trained at journalism
schools. There were no journalism schools in the United States in 1900.
By 1920, every major journalism school had been founded. They were
founded because the major newspaper publisher in every state marched to
the state capitol to say “we need one of these professional
journalism schools so we can have professional journalists while we
rack up all the money, and then we’ll have a separation
between church and state.” That’s the birth of
professional journalism.
Now the notion of objectivity—that you can have absolutely
neutral journalism—has been ridiculed. It’s been
dismissed. It’s ludicrous. The idea is just like adding up a
row of numbers. So if I gave you 2 + 3 + 2, you’d all come up
with 7, hopefully. The idea of objective journalism is that
you’d all go out and see the world like 2 + 3 + 2, and come
in and write identical stories. That’s nonsensical. No one
would make that claim for journalism now. The claim for professional
journalism is that it can be fair, accurate, and nonpartisan. And
that’s not necessarily bad. I don’t think there is
anything wrong with being fair, accurate, and nonpartisan. I
don’t think it’s the only type of journalism we
need. But I don’t think we should necessarily dismiss it as
bad or awful. The problem with professional journalism, as
it’s been practiced in the United States, is that
it’s smuggled in certain crucial biases into what’s
2 democracy? How about objectivity? Non-partisan, neutral journalism
that has no opinion. That’s the solution.” In fact,
objectivity didn’t even come about until the beginning of the
20th century. For the first 120 years of our history, we had a
stridently partisan journalism. The journalism of the Founding Fathers,
the journalism of the first three generations of this republic was
phenomenally partisan. The front page was partisan—you
didn’t have to wait until the editorial page to know where a
newspaper was coming from. The owner and the editor were one and the
same. You knew who owned the paper, and you knew the
politics—they were that person’s politics, period.
That’s how journalism worked for the first 120 years, nothing
objective about it, nothing neutral whatsoever. This was a very
different style of journalism than we have today.
Objectivity has certain merits, which we’ll talk about, but
it also has flaws.
Let’s discuss the origins of objectivity. Why did it pop out
of the sky in the early 20th century? Why didn’t we continue
with the partisan system that worked so well? Some of you who study
American history will have a sense of the partisan system. Look at some
of the newspapers, if you get a chance, during the Civil War. See how
the Northern newspapers covered Abraham Lincoln. The worst thing the
biggest right-wing kook ever said about Bill Clinton doesn’t
come close to the treatment Abraham Lincoln got from the Northern press
during the Civil War. You want to talk about partisan journalism. It
was a stridently partisan institution throughout the 19th century. Why
did it change? Or why didn’t it change?
Well, this is what happened. Over the course of the 19th century, our
newspaper industry became increasing a capitalist system. It started
off as largely partisan—it’s goal was to help
parties win elections. Then entrepreneurs figured out you could make a
lot of bucks publishing these things and selling them and selling ads.
And that logic gradually took over.
But the partisanship remained, even though it was by now primarily a
commercial enterprise. But it was also a much more competitive market.
So if you were in a city like St. Louis in 1870 or 1875, there were
fifteen daily newspapers in St. Louis.
All were partisan, all had distinct points of view, but there were
fifteen of them. You could really pick and choose. The market was so
competitive, that if you didn’t like one of those fifteen,
you could start the sixteenth paper with a different point of view. It
worked pretty well. There were flaws with it, I don’t want to
romanticize it, but the partisan system works well as long as
you’ve got a lot of different viewpoints and people can add
their new ones. In fact, that’s what the First
Amendment’s “free press” is all about
protecting, the ability to start new partisan viewpoints. What
happened? Well, the logic of newspaper economics changed radically
toward the late 19th century. What happened was that the rise of
advertising made it so that most newspaper markets winnowed down to
becoming one or two newspaper markets. By the early 20th century, that
was the rule in most small towns. I doubt Ashville had more than two or
three papers 80 or 100 years ago. It may have only had one for all I
know. Most American cities were like than.
Now partisan journalism when you’ve only got one or two
newspapers looks a lot different than when you’ve got fifteen.
When you’ve only got one or two newspapers and it’s
impossible to start a new newspapers, as it is with newspaper markets
due to the logic of those markets, stridently partisan journalism
smells like month old fish. It’s not unlike the sort of
stridently partisan journalism you had in the Soviet Union where you
had the Party line and that was it, you either bought it or you went
out. You had no choice because you couldn’t start another
paper to compete with it. You’re stuck with it. And this
partisan journalism in the Progressive Era, in the first decade of the
20th century, was stridently pro-capitalist and anti-labor.
Yet the dominant social movement of that time was the labor movement.
It was the movement of workers to improve their standard of living. The
press couldn’t have been more viciously, hostilely, or
directly anti-labor than they were in the first ten or fifteen years of
this century.
This became the foundation for the rise of objective or professional
journalism. This was a crisis for the system. It was a political crisis
in the sense that if you read our newspapers, magazines and political
speeches from that period, this was a political obsession for people.
But if it was just a problem for democracy it wouldn’t have
changed the system. It also became a problem for commercial newspaper
publishing. The large newspaper publishers were facing a dilemma. If
people didn’t trust their newspapers, they wouldn’t
buy them and they would lose their advertisers. It became bad for
business. This was the groundswell to understand the solution to that
crisis of capitalist journalism, of monopolistic newspaper markets in
the early 20th century. That solution was professional journalism.
That’s the birth of objectivity. That’s the
cauldron that gave birth to the modern notion of non-partisan
journalism. The revolutionary idea of professional journalism was that
for the first time you take the owner and the editor—which
were linked, which were one and the same for the first 120 years of the
republic—and you split them, like splitting the atom. Owners
would be over here with the advertisers, making the money. The
“Chinese Wall” is here, and on the other side are
the editors and the reporters: separation of
“church” and “state.” They
would not meet. So if you read a newspaper in a monopoly town, you read
the front page, you won’t know the politics of the owner. It
will be neutral, professional journalism. Where will these professional
journalists come from? Well, they will be trained at journalism
schools. There were no journalism schools in the United States in 1900.
By 1920, every major journalism school had been founded. They were
founded because the major newspaper publisher in every state marched to
the state capitol to say “we need one of these professional
journalism schools so we can have professional journalists while we
rack up all the money, and then we’ll have a separation
between church and state.” That’s the birth of
professional journalism.
Now the notion of objectivity—that you can have absolutely
neutral journalism—has been ridiculed. It’s been
dismissed. It’s ludicrous. The idea is just like adding up a
row of numbers. So if I gave you 2 + 3 + 2, you’d all come up
with 7, hopefully. The idea of objective journalism is that
you’d all go out and see the world like 2 + 3 + 2, and come
in and write identical stories. That’s nonsensical. No one
would make that claim for journalism now. The claim for professional
journalism is that it can be fair, accurate, and nonpartisan. And
that’s not necessarily bad. I don’t think there is
anything wrong with being fair, accurate, and nonpartisan. I
don’t think it’s the only type of journalism we
need. But I don’t think we should necessarily dismiss it as
bad or awful. The problem with professional journalism, as
it’s been practiced in the United States, is that
it’s smuggled in certain crucial biases into
what’s considered fair, accurate, and nonpartisan journalism
that have
actually made it unfair, inaccurate, and partisan. That’s the
problem with professional journalism as it’s developed in the
United States. The professional code that emerged in the Progressive
Era and that is crucial to understanding journalism to this
day—and you’ll see it really explains most of the
coverage we’re going to see—builds in the biases,
the political interests, of the owners and the advertisers. But it
makes journalists oblivious to the compromises with authority they make
because they’re just going about the professional code.
And this is absolutely crucial to understanding what’s going
on.
Ben Bagdikain, who wrote a book called The Media Monopoly really has
the best discussion of the biases that are built into the professional
code of journalism. Bagdikian is the former editor of the Washington
Post and then the Dean of the University of California School of
Journalism, and one of the single most thoughtful writers on issues in
journalism. He says there were three crucial biases built into the
professional code of journalism in that era that became the rule
through to this day. First, and for the first time, stories are based
on credentialed facts,
or what are called official sources. Political coverage is based on
what people in power say. Period. That’s the basis of
journalism. This is absolutely important for professional journalism
for a couple of reasons. First of all, it takes the controversy away
from story selection. So you can no longer say,
“why’d you run that story?” You say that
the governor said it and therefore we had to cover it. We report, you
decide. So it takes the controversy from story selection. You just
report what people in power say. Second, it’s a lot cheaper
to cover. You just plant a reporter at the White House, one at City
Hall, one at the Capitol, and a reporter at any place people in power
congregate and report what they say that day. That’s your
news hole. It’s a lot cheaper than having reporters go and
dig up stories, find out what’s actually happening in the
community.
So it’s a very conducive system for professional, commercial
journalism. But it has real problems built into it. You can probably
already see them if you just think about it for a second. It gives
sources a lot of power. They become the assignment editors of
journalism. If they are talking about something, you report it. If
they’re mum on something, you really can’t report
it. It’s hard to report. It makes journalists very reluctant
critics of their crucial sources. The range of debate, therefore, in
our journalism, tends to volley inside the range of debate among elite
opinion or official sources. That tends to be a strong bias built into
our journalism. Now look what happens to a journalist—and
we’ll see tangible examples of this later on when I talk
about the war against terrorism we’re in right
now—who goes outside official opinion and tries to introduce
a new idea that no one in power is talking about. What are they accused
of? They’re accused of being unprofessional, of bringing
their own partisan opinion in. There is a real disciplinary thing to
stay within the range of elite opinion, or else you’re going
to be accused of being unprofessional and partisan. So what journalists
have to do—the smart ones, if they want to somehow raise an
issue that no one is talking about—they’ve got to
coax someone in power to mention it so they can use that as a source
and claim that they’re just reporting what that person says.
That’s a trick of journalism for those of you who are
planning on going into the profession. It happens all the time. Good
journalists do that. That’s how they get their stories in
there, the good ones, when people in power don’t want to talk
about something. This is a crucial factor in understanding the news
coverage of the recent election in Florida, for example, and
we’ll get to that in a second. If you understand sourcing,
you understand 90% of why the coverage was so terrible, and why it was
so weak.
Let me give you an example of how much it’s changed.
In the 1870s, for example, the White House, or the President, accounted
for 1 or 2% of the news hole in American newspapers. 1 or 2% of the
news dealt with the White House. By 1925, we had gotten pretty much to
the point where we are today, 25%
of the news hole is the White House. Now is the President doing 25
times as much stuff now? Especially this one? No, of course not.
What’s happening, though, is that you’ve got all
the reporters there. So they are just waiting there reporting
what’s being fed to them by the White House public
information office. That’s why you have so much more
coverage. Back in 1870, you wouldn’t cover the White House
just for the heck of it. You’d have to have a reason. If you
thought the President said something stupid, you wouldn’t
cover it. You’d say: “That guy’s an
idiot, I’m not going to cover him.
It’s a partisan press, and I think that guy’s a
moron. You want us to cover him, read another paper.” That
was a different world of journalism then.
The second bias that Bagdikian talks about that’s built into
the professional code is the fear of context. When you put stories in
context, it almost requires that you take some ideological, moral, or
political position. It’s very difficult to talk about an
issue, long-term, historically, by putting it in context, without
having a position on it. So if you look at scholars, like myself, if I
write a book, or if any scholar writes a book, it’s
impossible to be neutral or objective. You have values, you have an
argument, and when you put it in context, it comes out.
You’re establishing it. You’re developing it.
It’s very difficult to avoid. But for journalism,
that’s bad, because it gives you the controversy of being
biased. It gets you in hot water, so you avoid context as much as
possible. You argue that news needs a news peg to be covered. There has
to be an event, a news hook, or a news peg, to justify coverage. As a
result, long-term stories of crucial significance to our society tend
to slip through the cracks in our journalism. Suburban sprawl
we’re mowing down countryside incredibly fast in a sort of
brain-dead process. I don’t know where it ends. Maybe until
we have no farmland or country left, in 68 years. There is no rational
planning. But it is not really a news story. It’s been going
on for fifty years. In some cities, it’s been disastrous
already. But it only becomes a news story if there’s a bill
being debated or a demonstration. With the long-term stories like that,
to cover it invites the charge that you’re being
biased—“Why are you raising that issue? No one in
power is talking about it.
Have you got an axe to grind? You’re not being
professional.” Or another classic issue that Bagdikian loves
to talk about is racism. Now Bagdikian when he worked for the
Washington Post, would travel around from newsroom to newsroom.
He’d go in and talk to the editors. He’d go into
the editorial offices in Detroit or Cleveland or Chicago, and
he’d say (this was in the late 50’s):
“Let me see the articles you’ve written on racism
in your community.” And the editors would look around and
say, “We don’t have racism in our community. What
are you talking about?” Bagdikian said, “Well,
that’s sort of interesting.” They had no stories,
because it was a long term problem. It didn’t affect their
core readership. They didn’t care about it. There
wasn’t a news peg or a news hook. Well, five years later,
it’s the most covered story in all those cities.
You’ve got riots, you’ve got demonstrations,
you’ve got political organizing.
Race is the number one issue. It just fell through the cracks for 30
years—not covered at all. So the people in those cities were
completely unprepared to deal with this crucial crisis. This is a real
weak spot of our journalism. Good journalism would have had us up to
speed on a social issue of that magnitude. This sort of
journalism—this sort of “just the facts,
man”, stay away from context, “don’t
blame us, we report the facts, you decide”—really
helps promote a de-politicization. It takes the passion, the ideas, the
morality, the values, what’s interesting about politics and
strips it out. It leaves you with just these sanitized meaningless
facts. It’s a real problem. It’s part of the
process that promotes the demoralization and the de-politicization of
our society.
It also promotes another institution of crucial importance in our
society: public relations. The PR industry is born at the exact moment
of professional journalism, and it’s not a coincidence. So
what does the PR industry do? It provides expert sources for its
clients so that you can get favorable press coverage using professional
code conventions. It provides news hooks. It provides news pegs. The PR
industry is there to serve it’s largely corporate clientele
with favorable press coverage.
You read the paper and think it’s just quality journalism.
The studies of the news hole in our society say that 40-70% of all the
news stories you see are directly from public relations press releases.
40-70%. The owners of our media love PR, [that is] the captains of the
media industry. Why? It saves them a fortune. If they didn’t
have PR funneling all this good material to them, they’d have
to have reporters actually go out and cover something. PR saves them a
ton of time. It saves them a ton of money. But it produces dreadful
journalism for us. Absolutely horrible.
The third bias is the most abstract. In many ways, though,
it’s the most important. Even with the first two
biases—towards official sources and lack of
context—you still have to decide what goes on the front page,
what goes on page 7, and what doesn’t get covered.
There’s no way around the fact that there have to be values.
You simply have to have some explanation as to why that’s an
important story and that isn’t, beyond those things I just
talked about. Bagdikian argues that there is a bias which he calls
“dig here, not there.” Implicit in the professional
code are biases in certain directions. Journalists take them as
natural. His core argument says that what is privileged in the
professional code as legitimate journalism is government malfeasance,
and what’s off limits is corporate malfeasance.
What’s privileged is government malfeasance, or certain types
of government malfeasance. The CIA wouldn’t count. Certain
types of government malfeasance, but not corporate malfeasance. Now how
do you test that? How do you say that journalists given equal stories,
one about corporate malfeasance and one about government malfeasance
won’t cover corporate but will cover government. How do you
test that? That’s hard to prove. It sounds sort of
interesting, but what evidence do you have? History has been
extraordinarily generous to us in this matter. There is a great
journalist named Charles Lewis, a former 60 Minutes producer
who’s won a lot of awards. One of the most acclaimed
broadcast journalists and producers in the last 40 years. He got
frustrated with the limits placed upon him by CBS at 60 Minutes. About
a decade ago, he left and he started a group called the Center for
Public Integrity. Some of you might have heard of it. They have a great
website. What Lewis did, because he has such a great reputation, he was
able to raise a fortune from foundations to hire fifteen crack
investigative journalists. What they do is four or five big reports
every year. As investigative journalists they write these 50 page
reports, and then they distribute them to the entire mass media, the
news media. They say, “Guys, here’s a story, now
follow up on it. It’s all yours.” That’s
what they do.
He broke, for example, the Lincoln Bedroom story. Their group broke the
story that Clinton was leasing out the Lincoln Bedroom to raise money.
They are nonpartisan, they go after Democrats, and they go after
Republicans. But they also do one other thing that no other journalists
do. They go after corporations. Charles Lewis is a great journalist. He
thinks private power should be held accountable, not just public power.
There are corporations which rule our economy, and we have a right to
know how they operate, and how they interact with government policy
makers. So about half of the reports they do are about corporate
malfeasance, and about half are about public. Lewis says, and this is
really interesting, that when they do one of their reports on
government malfeasance, they’ll have a press conference and
the room will be packed. There will be cameras from all the networks.
The phones will be ringing off the hook. Emails will be humming, the
computer smoking.
Everything rocking. Then they do one about corporate
malfeasance—and one of them, by the way, was an expose about
the corporate media lobby and how it basically owns all the
politicians—and he says you can hear a pin drop in their
office. No one comes to the press conference. It doesn’t get
picked up. No one covers it. Same journalists, same quality of
research—this is really a controlled experiment—no
coverage.
If Chuck Lewis wasn’t a principled man, he’d stop
doing those ones. Because his funders say, “Gee, Chuck, why
do you keep doing these things about corporate malfeasance? No
one’s running them. Why don’t you go back to the
Lincoln Bedroom?” But he says, “No. I’m a
journalist and if I’m going to do journalism, I’m
doing the whole package.” It’s just because
he’s a person of unusual integrity that we get this and get
that test. But it points to this bias. It’s an example of the
bias that says that corporate power is off limits. It’s much
like Communist Party power was off limits in the Soviet media, in
Pravda and Izvestia.
You get roughly the same treatment of corporate
power in our media.
Much of our news media looked a lot better once it became professional,
because what preceded it was partisan, it was sensationalistic, it was
trashy. So it did have a lot going for it. And there are some strengths
to professional journalism: the emphasis on factual accuracy, some
independence, and some very good reporting. The best reporting in
professional journalism is where elites disagree. Where you have elite,
or official, sources disagreeing, it gives journalists a lot of wiggle
room to work. The best journalists can get in there and do great work.
The weakest area of professional journalism, however, tends to be where
elites agree. This is where professional journalism and the
professional code of journalism that we have in this country looks
really bad. When our elites are in agreement on a crucial issue,
don’t want to talk about, or say the exact same thing, it
gives journalists almost no wiggle room to get around it. And then our
journalism is not too far from what you would find in an authoritarian
society in terms of content.
What sort of things are off limits? What sort of things do elites
agree upon which are not debated in our news media as a result? Well,
I’ll give you a couple of examples. One, there is a belief in
this country amongst official sources, Republicans and Democrats, that
the United States, and the United States alone has a 007 right to
invade any country it wants at any time for any reason. We’re
the only country in the world who gets this right. Now sometimes we can
deputize another country, but no one else is allowed to do it but us.
This is an issue that is never debated in our news media. The classic
case was the invasion of Panama back in, what was it, 1989? That was
seven invasions ago for those keeping score at home. The day of the
invasion, I was watching CSPAN. Secretary of State James Baker, or then
Secretary of State James Baker, was giving a press conference. This is
where CSPAN is great, because they show you the entire press
conference. He’s getting the usual questions about Noriega,
and did you catch him, and how many casualties are there. The sort of
stuff that you might as well mail the questions in. The same boiler
plate questions they always get, right: Who did the President consult
with? Did he talk with the Prime Minister of England yet? All that sort
of stuff. It was the usual ho-hum garbage, and I didn’t learn
anything from it. Then at the end, when he’s just starting to
close down, you could see this woman at the back. She looked like a
college girl, raising her hand frantically. And he says,
“Okay, you.” And you could tell that at just the
moment he did that, he regretted it. Then she stands up, and
she’s sort of nervous. She says, “Secretary of
State Baker,” and clearly she’s from a college
paper or a union paper, one of these left wing rags, though somehow she
got in the room, “I’m holding here a copy of the
Organization of American States treaty (which the United States
signed), and it says that any country that signs this will not invade
another signatory. (Panama also signed it. And Baker sort of nodded)
And I’m holding here a copy of the U. S.
Constitution, which says that if you break a treaty, that’s
grounds for impeachment and treason.” Now James Baker was
absolutely stunned. Because that’s a question that had not
been asked by a reporter to an American Secretary of State for thirty
years. That’s simply a question you don’t ask. As
every good reporter knows, you don’t even think to ask that
question, you’ve internalized that rule. Baker sat there, and
he looked at her with a Dan Quayle look for about ten seconds. He
didn’t really know how to respond. Now, I’m not
going to make up what he said. This is unbelievable. He looked at her,
and then he said—and this guy is really
slick—“We’ll have our lawyers look into
it and get back to you.” That was the end of it. And
that’s the last time that question has ever been asked. And
it will never be asked again. Because we alone have the 007 right to
invade any country we want, anytime we want for any reason, and
it’s not even discussed. We’re God’s
chosen empire, just like Rome was. Now it’s us.
Another thing you’ll never see debated in our news media is
that capitalism equals democracy. Because to the elite of this country,
capitalism does equal democracy. They don’t care about
democracy, they care about capitalism, but they call it democracy
because they know we care about democracy.
Capitalism equals democracy, even though there is so much evidence that
they don’t equal each other, and in fact they are often times
in serous tension and conflict, especially among the free market,
neoliberal policies that have wreaked havoc on so many places in the
world. But to our elite that is irrelevant.
What they call democracy means basically where US commercial interests
rule the country, or commercial interests rule in the political system.
Ideally they’ll have elections. But, if the elections
don’t come out right, screw it. Democracy means our guys run
the country. Now you say, “Bob, that’s not being
fair.” Well, consider this. We have some good evidence
recently. Anyone been watching what’s happened in Venezuela
in the last month? You guys know the story. This was an extraordinary
case study of this phenomenon. You have a popularly elected government
in Venezuela under Hugo Chavez, a popular government. Now, I
don’t know much about Chavez, he might be a schmuck. He might
be a great guy. But he’s popularly elected. It’s a
constitutional government, and he hasn’t violated the
constitution. He’s a populist, and he’s hostile to
US oil interests. He’s explicit about that. He got elected to
mess with them. That’s why he’s won this big
election. That’s the case. The US elite despise the guy. The
Venezuelan elite despite the guy, and they want to get rid of him. They
don’t want to wait for another election, and they probably
don’t think they could win another election. So they say,
“What are we going to do? Let’s overthrow this guy.
Let’s get rid of him.” So they overthrow him. And
the next morning in an editorial in the New York Times and the
Washington Post, which I think must have been written before the coup
because they came out literally within hours of the coup taking place,
the New York Times and the Washington Post both applauded this coup.
And you say, “Wow, that’s sort of
interesting.” A popular government is overthrown by a coup
and in its place is installed the president of the Chamber of Commerce
of Venezuela who immediately suspends the constitution, abolishes all
the locally elected governments in the country and abolishes the
elected parliament. This is the first thing he does in power, and the
New York Times editorial says this was a healthy step toward a
restoration of democracy. This coup in Venezuela was a healthy step in
the restoration of democracy.
In the bottom sentence you get the truth. It says that this new
government will encourage entrepreneurial initiative. That was the
kicker. The key thing is that they’ll protect capitalism.
They’ll protect the interests of the rich to run the country
like they’ve been running it, and they won’t get
messed up with all this populist mumbo-jumbo. So those are the things
which won’t be debated in our news
media. And those are crucial things for us. We are the
world’s biggest military power, and yet the most crucial
issues are off limits. You won’t hear them debated in our
news media.
It leaves us with one hand tied behind our back as a society trying to
come to terms with these issues. There are some other things you
won’t see in our news media either. There’s a
Sicilian code in our news media. Thou shall not cover local
billionaires critically. That is the eleventh commandment of the news
media. And that’s true all across the country. No local media
is going to tangle with local billionaires or corporations.
They always kiss up to them, everywhere, and for obvious reasons.
They’re usually important advertisers. They’re pals
with the local publisher. Their kids go to the same school.
They live in the same gated community. This is the world they work in.
It’s not good business to upset the largest business in your
community if you’re publishing a newspaper or running a TV
station. So, thou shalt not do critical work on local billionaires or
local corporations. Now occasionally we get examples of what happens
when you violate the
Sicilian code. There’s a guy named Mike Gallagher in
Cincinnati who writes for the Cincinnati Inquirer.
A few years ago he did an expose on the Chiquita Banana Company, which
talked about how the Chiquita Banana Company to enhance its business
prospects would assassinate people, or pay for the assassination of
political opponents in third world countries. True story.
It’s true that he did that, and it’s true what he
wrote. The problem that Mike Gallagher had when the Cincinnati Inquirer
ran this story was that the Chiquita Banana Company is owned by Carl
Lindner, the richest guy in Cincinnati. Big problem, worth 4 billion
dollars. Carl Lindner is just like James Baker. He’s never
had anything but smoke blown up his butt by the local media. He turns
around, and now all of sudden, he’s running a hit squad. What
they do at the Chiquita Banana Company is that they find out that this
reporter has gotten some of his information from access to voice mail
he shouldn’t have had. He didn’t have official
permission. So the Cincinnati Inquirer, in what was an enormously
ridiculous step, disavowed his entire story on the basis of the fact
that he got a couple of quotes using voice mail improperly. Even though
the story was true! And believe me, they’re not doing any
more stories at the Cincinnati Inquirer on the Chiquita Banana Company.
They might, after Lindner sells it, but not until then.
After he sells it, they probably won’t be interested in it.
The corporate attack, which I’m about to get to,
isn’t responsible for all the problems of our journalism.
Lots of them are embedded in this professional code which really pushed
journalism in a certain way. Even stories which get lots of resources,
like the Florida case in 2000, have really dreadful coverage.
Let’s go through the 2000 election. Because I think this is a
really a bell-weather moment for understanding the deep flaws in
professional journalism. What happened in Florida? Well, Al Gore won
the state. We know for sure that the majority of people who got up to
vote that day in Florida—those who got up and said,
“I’m going to go vote,” and the majority
of people who legally filed their absentee ballots on time for that
day—we know for sure that a majority of them intended to vote
for Al Gore. In fact the evidence for this is overwhelming. I would
urge you all to read a book called Jews for Buchanan, by John Nichols,
that New Press published. It’s a very serious book. He goes
through the recount almost ballot by ballot to discuss this issue. Al
Gore won the election in Florida.
He won it nationally. Yet, if you looked at our press coverage, George
Bush won it. He won it in Florida, and he won it, therefore,
nationally. He’s the just and legitimate President.
How could that be? How could our journalism in fact almost cheer on the
Bush case, they were so eager to have it closed?
What happened to this idea of the feisty Fourth Estate that’s
going to tell us the truth, for those of us who want to know who got
the most votes and represent our interests? I’d feel the same
way if it was Gore or Bush, Bush or Gore, I just want to know who won
the darn thing. Who got the most votes? Period.
Don’t give me a lot of gobblety-gook. Who won the thing,
journalists? Get off your butts and go find out. For those of us who
think that’s what the press should do, we had no dogs in that
race. Journalists weren’t doing that. We were out of luck.
Why was the coverage so deplorable? How was it so deplorable? Well, the
fundamental starting point is official sources. Journalists, in what
passes for journalism, would go basically everyday and get the
Republican Party line and they’d get the Democratic Party
line, and they’d report that. They wouldn’t
investigate the claims. Almost never. There was very little
investigation. Just report this party line, report that party line,
present them. We report, you decide. So what were they reporting? Well,
remember this: It was basically a tie in the first vote. What was it
300 votes, 500 votes? But in a state of 6 million votes,
that’s a statistical tie. You had no idea who was going to
win, based on what they knew. But in the middle of the night, Fox News
declared George W. Bush the winner. It was at 3 AM, I think. They
declared George W. Bush the winner. You know who made that decision for
Fox News?
John Ellis, the first cousin of George W. Bush. You know that.
Come on! Now this was a totally unsubstantiated call. You
can’t statistically make a call based on a 500 vote lead out
of 6 million votes. It’s just absurd. We saw recounts in
Washington State, a much smaller turn out of votes, and 10,000 votes
turn around in the Cantwell race on a recount. She was trailing, and
then she won the race. This is 6 million votes, in Florida of all
states. Florida. And this guy called it for George W. Bush. But that
was absolutely crucial. Because the media framing thereafter for the
Republicans, and therefore for the media, was that George W. Bush won
it and Al Gore was trying to figure out a way to steal it or get it
back somehow. Reporters, from November 7 until the Supreme
Court’s interesting vote, would go everyday to the
Republicans and go everyday to the Democrats. The Republicans everyday
would say, “We won the darn thing and the Democrats are
trying to steal it.” The Democrats, everyday, would say,
“We don’t really know. I guess we’ll have
to count the votes. We don’t want to hurt the stock market or
anything. We don’t really want anyone to be too upset. We
just want to get at the truth here.” Anything would go. James
Baker, as I said, would say, “The Democrats just want to keep
recounting the votes. They’ve counted them three times
already.” Well, in fact, a lot of the votes were never
counted in that so-called recount, we now know. They did a bogus
recount, and it was completely fraudulent. But no one investigated
that. That’s real journalism. Don’t just report
what both sides are saying, investigate whether they’re
telling the truth! That’s what we needed, and we
didn’t get that.
Journalists were penalized by the Democrat’s unwillingness to
play hardball, to fight for what we now know they won. So, one great
story did come out in November of 2000, by a journalist named Greg
Palast, an American working in England for the BBC, the Mirror, the
Guardian and the Observer. He writes for all of them. Some of you are
probably familiar with this story. Palast discovered that for the first
time in American history, Katherine Harris had out-sourced [the task
of] making a list of all the felons who would not be allowed to vote in
the Florida election. She out-sourced it to a company that, purely
coincidentally, was owned and operated by all Republicans. They came up
with a list of 57,700 names of felons in Florida who should not be
allowed to vote. One small problem: the list was largely bogus. They
discovered that there were tons of names there of people who
weren’t felons. They also found out that the instructions
were so loose that if there were names that were even close to a
felon’s name, they called them felons. It was not done with
anywhere near the care required. Thousands of voters, almost all poor
and significantly African-American or Latino, went to the polls on
election day and weren’t allowed to vote, wrongly. We know
this. It’s heavily documented. There is a great piece by
Palast in the 7 March 2002 Harper’s Magazine, if you want to
read more about it. Yet, why wasn’t that an issue in
November? It wasn’t an issue because the Democrats
didn’t want to fight on it. Al Gore didn’t go on TV
and slam his fists on the table and say, “Darn it, this is
wrong that these people weren’t allowed to vote. It cost us
the election. It’s not fair and we have to do something about.
It’s not acceptable.” Al Gore, and we can debate
why he did this, decided not to do that. And because of that,
journalists didn’t have source cover to go after that story.
If a journalist tried to push that story—and I know
journalists who tried to—they’d say,
“Hey, you’re being partisan, you’re not
being objective, you’re not being professional. Even Al
Gore’s not raising this issue, it must not be a real story.
If it were a real story, Al Gore would be pushing it.” So it
didn’t get covered The great story was that Palast said that
a CBS producer called him up in late November and said, “This
is a great story, Palast, we want to cover this.” So Palast
said, “Go for it.” The CBS producer, who wins my
Pravda award for the year, replied, “We called up Governor
Jeb Bush’s office and asked him about this, and he said there
was nothing to it. So we decided not to pursue the story.”
I’m not making this stuff up. I can’t make this
stuff up.
Since the Supreme Court decision, of course, our media has had this
obsession with healing, with closure, and with not stepping on the toes
of our maximum leader. When they announced the official recount, a year
later, remember the press coverage of that in November of last year? It
was striking in the New York Times. Gore Vidal has a wonderful piece I
urge you all to read in the Nation. You can get it online at the
Nation.com. Enter Gore Vidal in the search engine. Read his coverage of
the New York Times reporting on the official recount that was done on
the Florida vote. He goes paragraph by paragraph, breaking it down. By
the 16th paragraph, they admit Gore won the state. But if you read the
first 11 paragraphs, it’s all about how it’s
impossible to say, Bush won this way, Gore won that way. But in the
end, they say, if you count all the ballots, Gore won—any way
you do it. But the lead wasn’t that. Why wasn’t the
lead that? Because if they admitted that Gore won the state, then
they’ve got a lot to answer for. Where the hell were you guys
in November of 2000? Why the heck when it counted didn’t you
get the truth out? You should have. You had ever journalist in the
country down there reporting what James Baker ate for breakfast. Why
couldn’t one of you actually do some journalism and get to
the truth of the matter?
So that wasn’t due to corporate control, necessarily, though
it might be an influence. I mean the recent pressures.
But a lot of the stories point right to the more commercial pressures
in journalism. What’s happened since the mid-1980s is very
simple. Remember church and state? Owner/Business, Editors/Reporters,
Chinese wall between them? Well, that deal made a lot of sense for 50
years. By the 1980s, and certainly into the 1990s, what increasingly
happened was that big companies would buy out news media. CBS would get
bought by Lawrence Tisch. Then it gets bought by Viacom.
Newspaper chains get bought by larger chains. As these companies pay
more and more—like Sumner Redstone paid 30- 40 billion
dollars to buy CBS—he’s over here looking at the
Chinese wall between the owner and the CBS news. He’s saying,
“Hey, what’s the story with this deal? I just paid
a fortune for this company and now my sports teams, my MTV, my film
studio, my video rentals at Blockbuster—all these executives
are forced to maximize return for me and my investors. What’s
this church and state mumbo-jumbo that says these guys can do whatever
they want? Who came up with this crazy idea?”
That’s been the logic that’s affected the owners of
all our media. They’re saying this deal doesn’t
make sense for us anymore, and they’ve torn down that wall
between church and state. They’ve said, you guys have to
start generating profit for us. We’re in this to make money.
We’re not a philanthropy. We’re not a charity.
There’s been tremendous
pressure on journalism to become a profit source, much greater than had
been the case in the past. How do you do that? Well, you reduce costs
for starters. You lower costs. The best way to do that is to lay off as
many editorial people as possible. Lower budgets. One of the crucial
things that got cut out in the mid-80s— something
we’re suffering from today—is foreign news in our
news media. The virtual elimination of foreign news from the mid-80s to
this day still exists despite the hot air you’re getting to
the contrary. The statistics are striking. I’ve got them in
the book. There is a 60-70% drop off in the number of foreign
correspondents. The amount of time and space taken up by foreign news
dropped by 40, 50, 60%. It’s just not covered anymore. What
passes for foreign coverage in our news media in the new world order is
this: you take a superstar correspondent, you fly them into the zone,
you air drop them, and you get them in front of a visual. Then you have
them mouth whatever the State Department official told them to say on
the way in the limo. Then they get back in the limo, back in the
chopper, back in the plane, back to New York—that’s
foreign coverage nowadays. That’s bogus. Real foreign
coverage is someone who knows the country, knows the language, knows
the people, and really understands what’s going on.
The worst part about investigative journalism is not that it
won’t break a story, but that it might break a story. It
might actually break a really important story about someone in power,
and then it gets you in hot water with someone you’re playing
croquet with, or someone you’re selling ads to, or someone
your daughter’s going to marry. It’s just not good
business. It’s bad business, so you see a lot less of it.
Labor
news has all but dropped from the equation. You know how many
labor reporters there are in American news media today? Two that I know
of. Though there probably won’t be two for very long. But we
have a ton of business reporters.
Business is the fastest growing section of the newspapers.
It’s a spectacular class bias.
When the Flint sit-down strike took place in 1937 that established the
modern trade union movement—it established the
UAW—it should have been named, in my opinion, a national
holiday. It created the American middle class. It was a great moment in
American history. It was a front page story in every major newspaper in
the country, including the Chicago Tribune which hated labor. They had
five labor reporters covering it from Flint. It was just a story. It
was news. It was important to people’s lives. We had the next
biggest sit-down strike in American history fifty-some years later in
Pittstown, Virginia. It got no press coverage at all. It
couldn’t have been more stark or more different. It got no
coverage though, because labor has pretty much dropped from view.
During the Florida debacle in 2000, there was a casual thing that
happened that sort of said it all. The commentator 8 from the CNN
offices said “thank-you” to the correspondent in
the field. Then they said, “Now we’re going to go
to a commercial and when we come back we’re going to see how
all this is affecting our stock portfolios.” She
didn’t say that with any qualifications, but, “Of
course, our viewers have stock portfolios. Our viewers have SUVs and
computers and go to Europe. This is who we do the news for, people like
that, not people down there. They’re not in our world.
They’re not part of it.” The class bias is
pronounced and it’s severe. And it’s not because
they’re bad people. It’s rational business. If you
were simply a shareholder and you were out to maximize return,
you’d do exactly that. That would just make perfect business
sense. The problem is that it lets rich people in wealthy corporations
control our media system to suit their self-interests at the expense of
our interests.
The problem is the structure of the system. There is still some very
good work that’s done. In fact, there is some outstanding
journalism that’s done. You see it all the time. The problem
we’re seeing increasingly, and this gets to the crisis we
face, is that there is no echo effect. Morton Mince, a great,
investigative reporter for the Washington Post, did an article a couple
of years ago that was really striking. He went around and he found a
lot of great investigative reports in a lot of newspapers around the
country. Not big city newspapers, oftentimes, but regional papers. What
he found was that they’d run these great, damning
exposés, but then there would be no follow up. No one else
would go after it. You wouldn’t see other newspapers send
three more reporters in to follow up. It would run once, or a couple of
times, and die. There would be no political action on it. It
wouldn’t lead to reform. The PR people would have to gloss it
over, whatever the exposé was on, but it wouldn’t
change anything. What Mince argued, and I think he’s
absolutely right, is that the crisis in our journalism is also a crisis
for our democracy. We often talk about how democracy needs journalism,
but journalism needs democracy.
If you’re reporting on some malfeasance, and you’re
reporting and then nothing happens because the political system is so
absolutely corrupt, you can’t really have journalism either.
That’s the situation that we’re in today. The
corruption in our political system is so immense that it’s
approaching any level of corruption that we’ve ever had in
our history, if not exceeding it. This puts journalism in a very
difficult spot. You can do
exposés, but they fall through the floor because no one pays
attention. It doesn’t change anything. That’s how
severe the corruption is. That’s a big difference from 30
years ago. That’s a big difference from 40 years ago. Our
media is no longer a correction to the corruption in our politics and
our economy. Our media are part of the problem. They are entrenched
within it.
Finally, let me turn to the last issue. I know I’ve gone on a
little longer than I wanted to. But this is maybe the most important
issue that I could possibly talk about, which is the current world war
against “evil-doers” that we’re in the
midst of. When the 9/11 terrorist attacks took place, journalists were
faced with a classic dilemma in this country. This country in the last
100 years has had roughly 75 foreign wars. We don’t know
about most of them. A lot of them are these quickie carpet-bombings
that we don’t even hear about anymore in our news
media—we just go blow-out some country. But sometimes they
require troops, sustained involvement, lots of money, and they require
a lot of press coverage. WWI, WWII, Korea, Vietnam, these
aren’t the sorts of things you can slide by. You need troops
to go over and put their butts on the line. You need to get a lot of
money from the government, from the taxpayers, to pay for these wars.
If we look at the ways these wars have been handled in the press and
they’ve been conducted in the US, there is actually something
you find that’s fairly striking about all our major wars
since 1914. In every single one of them, the President in power (the
government and White House in power) has lied to the American people to
get us in that war. Every single one of them. That’s the
track record. It’s just blatant.
It’s not a debated issue. Even FDR in the late 30s and early
40s wanted to get us into that war. He didn’t think if he
told the truth that the American people would go into that war, and so
he lied. He did everything in his power to get us in that war. Woodrow
Wilson, in 1916, ran as the candidate of peace. “He
kept us out of war,” that was his slogan. He won reelection.
While he was using that slogan, he was planning to get us into WWI. He
got us into it in 1917. In 1964, LBJ ran for President as the peace
candidate. He wouldn’t get us into war in Vietnam.
“Oh,
that Barry Goldwater, he’s a kook,
he’ll be dropping A-Bombs on Hanoi. Don’t vote for
him. You want peace, you vote for me.” We now know, and
it’s almost painful to read the diaries and the transcripts
of recordings that have come out of his White House in 1964, that he
fully planned to get us into the war. He knew he just
couldn’t tell the truth to the American people and win the
election. Or he didn’t want to take that chance. But he had
to lie to the American people to get them to go to that war. He lied
through his teeth. The Pentagon Papers showed that. He wanted to go to
that war, for whatever reason, he wanted to do that. These are things
we teach in journalism schools. These are the dark moments in American
journalism.
These are the sort of things we say, “Our journalism failed
us here.” WWI was a senseless slaughter. Vietnam, I bet there
are people in this room, like myself, who lost close relatives there.
Senseless slaughter. If our journalism had done its job, those lives
would not have been lost. It failed us. This is the lesson we tell
journalists. So how does it handle WW3, with permanent war against
secret
“evil-doers”? How does the journalism handle it?
Well, what sort of debate was there? What sort of tough questions were
given to people in power as they said they had to have this permanent
war against “evil-doers”? Well, it was atrocious.
By even the most rudimentary standards of journalism, it was appalling.
In fact, on CNN they were talking about how they might have to raise
more money to pay for the war. They said on the screen—the
headline for the story—was “Freedom’s
Price Tag.” I thought that it must be comforting to the
people of Iraq to know that this was freedom’s price tag, or
maybe Venezuela or Columbia, or wherever the
“evil-doers” are next to be nailed. Where was the
skepticism towards the war claims? The logical questions when someone
wants to go to war—the most important thing a government can
do—require journalists to double their vigilance, not reduce
it. That’s when you need them most to ask the tough
questions. Where was the skepticism for this blank check for a fifty
year war against invisible enemies that we just trust them to find? It
was hardly there, whatsoever. In fact, the reason for this is clear:
the sources. The Democrats didn’t provide any opposition, so
no reporter could cover 30 Democrat Senators protesting. They were all
marching in lock-step. So the journalism also marched in lock-step. War
was the only possible alternative. Cokie 9 Roberts, one of our
legendary journalists, on the day the war began was asked if there was
any opposition to the war in the country on ABC. Her response was,
“None that mattered.” “None that
mattered.” I think she nailed it right on the head.
“None that mattered.” I think that settled it for
Cokie. The point isn’t that you should be anti-war. The point
is that in a democracy, the decision to go to war has to be made with
critical, informed dissent. It’s the most important decision
we make. It cannot be made in this sort of manner.
Finally, the last point I’ll talk about—and I wish
I had more time, but I’m going to have to stop—is
Enron. I’m only going to say a couple of things about it.
Enron, in my view, is every bit as important as the 2000 election,
every bit as important as 9/11, because it goes right to the heart of
the corruption of our political economy. It lifts the rock on the myth
of some sort of free-market “New Economy.” It
exposes the ways in which corporations sleazily rip off workers, buy
off politicians, and screw over consumers to make their quick bucks and
then get away with it. In the mid-90s, people were exposing what Enron
was doing by buying off politicians and screwing over the energy
policies in California, other countries, and other states. But it
wasn’t a news story. In fact, as recently as a year ago or a
year and a half ago, Enron was called the model, “New
Economy” corporation. It got kid-gloves treatment in our news
media. We were unprepared for this scandal. Now that the scandal has
hit and Enron has gone bankrupt, has it become our Dreyfus Affair? Has
it become the affair that makes us question the relationship between
our most powerful government figures , our politicians, and our large
corporate figures? It should have done that. Because that’s
exactly what it’s about. That’s exactly what this
story is about. Have we had a debate about how to get rid of that sort
of corruption so that it never happens again? No, we haven’t
had the debate. It’s been converted into a pure business
story. Some Arthur Andersen guy shredded the papers. So, bad on them,
we aren’t going to give them a promotion. It’s a
business story about some dubious accountants who messed with the
numbers. The political side—which is the whole story,
Enron’s whole story is a political Ponzi scheme—has
dropped from view. The political corruption implicit [in this affair]
has fallen [from view]. The reason for that? Go back to sources. Enron
bought off everyone. It was an equal opportunity briber. Joe Lieberman
has a big fat wallet thanks to Enron. So does Tom Daschle.
George W. Bush has a really big fat one. Dick Cheney can’t
even get it in his pants. The fact of the matter is that
they’re all in bed with this. None of them want a Dreyfus
Affair exposé, because they’d all go down with it.
The whole system would go down. It would require a major reform, a
cleansing equal to the Progressive Era or the New Deal, to address the
built-in corruption of our political system. Now people say when they
hear me talk: “Man, I’m
depressed. You’ve really bummed me out. It’s
impossible. Life sucks.” They say, “Why
aren’t you
depressed? I’m not depressed because I see the extent these
companies go to, to keep us from having this discussion. I see the
extent they go to, to see that there is no public debate over these
issues. Because they know what I know, which is that when people hear
about this stuff, they get outraged. When people hear about this stuff,
they want to change it. When they understand that they have the right
to change media, they’re willing to do it. That’s
why the media corporations do everything in their power to see that
there is no public debate. They don’t even want a
Congressional debate. They want it behind ten locked steel doors with
the FCC, them, and the other fat cats. That’s their idea of
democracy. If we rip down those steel doors, they know that their
system won’t hold up in the light of day. That’s
what we have to do, shine the light of day on it, and only good things
can possibly happen. I’ll leave you with a quote from one of
my favorite writers, Noam Chomsky. It’s one of my favorite
quotes by Noam. He deals with a lot of people who say, “I
just don’t think it’s possible. It’s too
intense. The problem of changing this world is just not worth it. You
kill yourself because people in power are so strong.” Noam
says: “The choice is yours.” Basically,
you’ve got to look in the mirror, look in the eyes in that
mirror, and look deep into your soul to see what your made of. The
choice that you’ve got to deal with is this: If you act like
there is no hope for change for the better, you guarantee there is no
hope for change for the better. That’s your choice.
Thank you very much.
David Barsamian Alternative Radio
P.O. Box 551 Boulder, CO 80306
(800) 444-1977
info@alternativeradio.org
www.alternativeradio.org ©2002