How our docile local press
undermines democracy
by Sam Pratt
The following article appears in the current issue of Our Town: The Columbia County Quarterly, and will appear here in four installments over the next two weeks. Links to the previous two installments: Part I | Part II
“We Jewed them down.”
At a public meeting on February 15, 2011, Taghkanic Assessor Art Griffith uttered these words in response to questions about a contract with an outside firm.
Griffith shrugged off criticism of his anti-Semitic slur. He refused to apologize, calling it “a common phrase used all the time.” Its currency may depend on one’s social circle, but the incident prompted angry letters to the editor, articles in the New York Daily News and the Albany Times-Union, blog posts, discussions on WAMC, and a stiff letter of condemnation from the Anti-Defamation League of New York.
But nothing appeared in print locally for twelve days, even though the remark had caused an immediate uproar in the presence of reporters from two local newspapers.
The Columbia Paper finally broke the story on February 27.
Their article was prompted by community e-mail discussions, as witnesses questioned why nothing about the slur had appeared in a previous issue.
Now realizing his paper had a big story on its hands, editor Parry Teasdale wrote an editorial rebuking Griffith, as much for his unapologetic attitude, as for his choice of words. The Register-Star waited still longer, until March 8, to report what its own reporter had witnessed firsthand, three weeks earlier.
The incident reveals a lot about the importance, as well as the failings of local media: its value in spreading the news, and its readiness to soft pedal the news when those in positions of power screw up.
“Chamber of Commerce Journalism” is a term often used to describe much of what appears in print. The Texas Monthly defined it benignly as “covering events and announcements intended to boost civic pride.” It typically implies a Panglossian tendency to make things sound better than they really are, exacerbated by a willingness to avert the eyes when something uncomfortable occurs.
Such boosterism inspires a barely-hidden distaste for independent voices who question the status quo. A textbook example of that dynamic—sympathy for those in power, disdain for those who challenge it—was illustrated by the Times-Union’s early coverage of the controversy over St. Lawrence Cement’s proposal to build a massive, coal-burning plant in Columbia County.
In 2001, the T-U declined to cover a major breaking development in that six-year battle: the decision by the doctors of Columbia Memorial Hospital to oppose the project. Bucking overly-cautious administrators, CMH’s medical staff conducted an independent analysis, concluding that the proposed plant would increase asthma in children, heart attacks in the elderly, and cancer in all residents.
That blow to St. Lawrence Cement became a turning point in the battle. But it was not deemed newsworthy by the editors of the region’s largest and most influential paper—at the time a regular beneficiary of SLC ads. So what was newsworthy? Soon afterwards, the Albany paper ran a feature on the office décor of SLC Vice-President Dennis Skidmore, including sentimental descriptions of cement industry memorabilia on Skidmore’s wall, and portraits of his kids on his desk. Subtext: We won’t let readers know about a credible, independent health study by caretakers in the community, whose research contradicts a big advertiser’s claims. But we will go out of our way to humanize a corporate executive who’s behind those claims. Two years later, after opponents kept up their drumbeat of well-researched concerns, the T-U came around—publishing a comprehensive special report on the project, largely unfavorable to SLC.
Such misjudgments are driven by a baseline assumption that news from a government or business source is presumptively true until proven otherwise. Area papers are filled with barely-altered press releases from “legit” sources. The burden lies with others, not the press, to prove them wrong. Those who dare try are viewed with suspicion by the media. Entrenched interests trump the credibility of private citizens, activists, or advocacy organizations.
Even progressive voices in the media tend to write off anyone on the outside looking in. At a meeting of journalists on radio station WGXC, in August 2009, the Columbia Paper’s Teasdale—considered more enlightened than most area editors—unabashedly characterized citizens who speak up at local meetings as people “no one will listen to at home.” This dismissive attitude is dismayingly common among media mavens, who spend their days in front of computers. But people who attempt to participate in community affairs tend to be better informed, less compromised, and have better social skills than the officials and reporters in the room. (One recalls, for example, former Independent reporter Chris Simonds berating Hudson resident Allon Schoener, as he attempted to speak at a 1999 public hearing at the St. Charles Hotel.) Many local towns are fortunate to have at least one citizen who attends meetings far more regularly than the press, types up reports far more detailed than anything in print, and circulates the news widely via e-mail or the Web.
In August 2006, on a local e-mail listserv, I noted an article about a proposed Claverack housing development, by Kate Mostaccio in the Register. The article seemed to me highly slanted in favor of the developer, and against the citizens who voiced concerns. The first paragraphs lovingly detailed the developer’s claims. Finally getting around to the public’s point of view in paragraph 14, Mostaccio acknowledged that most were against the proposal, but called them the “vocal opposition”— then immediately returned to chronicling the developer’s smooth assurances.
I wrote to Mostaccio, noting that the press often uses labels to belittle citizens who speak out. Words like “vocal” and “strident” are typically used to imply that citizen concern is somehow irrational.
Reporters now use them routinely when there is public comment, no matter what the actual tenor of the remarks. This is just one small aspect of the persistent and sometimes unconscious bias against citizens who try to influence local government. Officials and developers are afforded neutral coverage and most of the space. Citizen com- ments are summarized, rather than conveyed in depth, or relegated to ‘below the fold’ or after the jump to a new page. (The lower down a quotation appears, the fewer people see it.) Mostaccio refused to accept the criticism until I submitted our exchange to prominent media critic and NYU professor Todd Gitlin, author of The Whole World is Watching, a trenchant memoir of Students for a Democratic Society in the 1960s. The book chronicles SDS’s fight against the routine sliming by the media of students organizing for peace and justice.
“There’s no question, ‘vocal’ modifying ‘opponents’ is at best redundant. Are there quiet opponents?” asked Gitlin. “Vocal would most likely be interpreted as a mark of Cain, equivalent to ‘strident,’ ‘irrational,’ ‘unruly,’ etc.” Mostaccio finally conceded the point, but the Register hasn’t changed its ways.
While presuming to render judgment of others, members of the media are themselves notoriously thin-skinned. Quick to anger when challenged, they’re not above taking revenge for criticism, by minimizing their critics’ point of view—or erasing it entirely. Even as they bat away criticisms as spurious, members of the established press are equally quick to pat themselves on the back for their professed objectivity.
A self-serving media defense, heard at times from the Times-Union’s Rex Smith on WAMC’s Media Project: If both sides are unhappy about our coverage, we must be doing something right. (Note: In the survey cited above, WAMC was rated by far the most popular and credible news source in this region.) This pat excuse neatly deflects criticism, releasing the press from any obligation to search their souls or notebooks for where they might have gone astray. They might consider another possibility: Both sides are unhappy because we got both sides of the story wrong.
Next Up: In the conclusion of this series, Part IV of Missing Ink looks at the future of local media, in particular in relation to the rise of blogs and social media.
