WHEN INTERNAL COMMUNICATION counsel goes horribly, terribly wrong. "Leading us all to / higher staaaandards"

Where The Pulp Stops and Money Begins

AN INTERESTING JUXTAPOSITION. Yesterday I saw that Gannett is fundamentally changing how they run their newspapers (via SN) in response to changes in how people are producing and consuming news. My take was that this is a smart, progressive move--and selfishly, the focus on local news and the inclusion of everyday citizens in the process reflect suggestions I made to the AP Managing Editors in 2004.

This morning I see something that reverses the field and makes me wonder what those ladies and gentlemen who publish newspapers could possibly be thinking. Each morning Kate and I send our energetic golden retriever, Cassidy, down the drive to retrieve our newspapers. I read three: The Philadelphia Inquirer (our local rag), the New York Times (for the perspective of the left and the crossword puzzles), and the Wall Street Journal (though online, for the perspective of the right and the business coverage). When ol' Cass brings in the Inky this morning I see something that surprises me: The bag in which our Inquirer sits presents a full-length political advertisement for US Senate candidate Rick Santorum (click the photo for a larger view).

For those not of these parts or not engaged with national political reporting, the Santorum (R) / Casey  (D) Senate race is one of the most hotly contested in the country, and one of the few races upon which control of the Senate may rest. It's been everything for which Pennsylvania politics are infamous: Tough, dirty, expensive, personal. It's also trending  Democrat, with Casey holding an eight point lead in the latest Morning Call poll.

Between the Santorum / Casey Senate race and the equally contested Murphy (D) / Gerlach (R) House race (also one of the closest, dirtiest, most expensive, and personal in the nation), we've experienced a deluge of political advertising for months. We've had calls, visits, and ads. We've had the positive and the extraordinarily negative (think "Candidate X likes to eat baby brains after stomping on the heads of small puppies. Can Pennsylvanians AFFORD to eat baby brains after stomping on the heads of small puppies???"). Lois Murphy was at the local train station last Thursday shaking hands, and yesterday we received no fewer than seven ads in our mail.

But this morning's Inky bag struck us as beyond the pale. I neither expect, nor wish, to see campaign advertising in my newspaper. Political commentary, yes. Endorsements, sure. Stories with a whiff of bias, of course. But campaign advertising -- a direct exchange of money for message placement -- no. Nor do I want to. Not for Santorum. Not for Casey. Not for Willie the Clown.

For those who might say "Why not? Free speech is free speech," my reply is: "Ethics." A visit to the Society of Professional Journalists presents one with a full page devoted to their Code of Ethics. I can't say who at the Inky is a member of the SPJ, but one can reasonably presume that their code of ethics is similar to, if not a model for, journalism ethics and standards in general. Among the standards they list we find (enumeration added by me):

Act Independently
Journalists should be free of obligation to any interest other than the public's right to know. Journalists should:

1. Avoid conflicts of interest, real or perceived.
2. Remain free of associations and activities that may compromise integrity or damage credibility.
3. Refuse gifts, favors, fees, free travel and special treatment, and shun secondary employment, political involvement, public office and service in community organizations if they compromise journalistic integrity.
4. Disclose unavoidable conflicts.
5. Be vigilant and courageous about holding those with power accountable.
6. Deny favored treatment to advertisers and special interests and resist their pressure to influence news coverage.
7. Be wary of sources offering information for favors or money; avoid bidding for news.

I'm just a layman, but it seems to me the Santorum ad takes a pretty good run at #2 and #3. Given that the Inky endorsed Casey this same day, we could probably ask about #1, too. "What about equal time?", you ask. Actually, the Equal Time Rule applies to broadcasters, not to print journalists, as broadcasters use a public resource (the airwaves) to ply their wares, which subjects them to a different level of regulation. The First Amendment Center tells us that there have been attempts to apply the Equal Time Rule to newspapers, but the Supreme Court has declared such laws unconstitutional: "A responsible press is an undoubtedly desirable goal but press responsibility is not mandated by the Constitution and like many other virtues it cannot be legislated."

And rightly so. Press responsibility is a virtue, and should not be legislated. But the idea that a news outlet that lives by a code of ethics grounded in impartiality would treat qualified political candidates equally is a reasonable virtue to expect, no? That expectation would cause one to ask: Did they offer the same advertising space to Casey, at the same price and time?

If the answer is "No" there's no legal consequence, just an ethical one -- and perhaps no more than the Inky looking dirty, commercial, and self-interested on the eve of an election. But it's their brand, and they're welcome to tarnish it as they please.

How is this different than political advertising on TV? Because TV stations are broadcasters first, and journalists only when a news show is on TV. Newspapers are journalists all the time, and as such, have always been in the difficult position of managing the competing obligations of being at once a commercial and journalistic enterprise. (Of course, the history of yellow journalism in this country suggests the position hasn't always been so difficult). But given the proliferation of news sources today, this reader has come to hope his newspaper, even with its unavoidable biases and overt endorsements, would retain some measure of professionalism amongst the din.

Not so much, it seems. In Philly, commercialism seems the greater of equals. The Inky may claim their professional and ethical obligations end with the pages on which they print, but the plastic the thing comes it as much a symbol of their priorities as the pulp of their paper. Perhaps someone took leave of their senses, or perhaps the fee was simply too good to pass up. Either indicates I've subscribed to a paper that is solidly a business first and a font of journalism second, and that's a subscription I'm not willing to renew.

* * *

POSTSCRIPT: After drafting this piece I found this page at the Newspaper Association of America, which states:

Political advertising is a multi-billion dollar industry and growing every year. But newspapers have had difficulty capturing a significant share of this revenue. That's because political advertising is unlike any other kind of advertising. The political industry is dominated by consultants, not traditional agencies. These consultants control the decision-making and placement process. To a large degree, today's consultants are broadcast-oriented, and simply not familiar with the opportunities newspaper advertising can offer their clients.

The Newspaper Association of America is working hard to change that. NAA has undertaken a multi-faceted campaign to educate the political consulting community about the advantages of newspaper advertising.

...

The NAA's outreach effort to the political consulting industry is ongoing. If you would like more information on what NAA is doing to increase political advertising revenue for newspapers, contact Jack Brady at bradj@naa.org.

Seems there's much more of this to come.

The Next Level, Baby

"'IT'S NOT A BIG DEAL,' Vick told the newspaper. 'I'll just move on to the next level, baby.'"

Sure, and if you stomp on an opponent's leg at the next level, you'll never play the game again. Not because of suspension, but because the other guys at the next level will rend your arrogant, over-rated knee from your pompous, no-class leg.

I'm just sayin'.

Tags: marcus vick

Bad Form, Defined

FILE THIS UNDER "BAD FORM": I just left a men's room where a gentleman was sitting in a stall, door closed, having a conversation on his cell phone. I appreciate the desire some people have to multi-task, but honestly: talking on your cell while in the bathroom?

What do you say when you take that call? "This is Jones ... Bob, how are you? ... Me, oh, I'm on the toilet ... no, no, I'm good; what's up?" Coaching point: Let voice mail catch that one.