Emotions of abortion debate put newswriters in a language jungle

I don’t know how journalists writing about the U.S. Supreme Court’s Dobbs abortion decision manage to meet their deadlines. They have to stop practically every other sentence to think and avoid words and phrases that are loaded like landmines.

I can’t think of any other issue in which the language has become so politicized. Journalists writing news stories seek truthful characterizations while steering clear of perceived partisanship. This may be impossible here.

How, for instance, should they describe the two sides in the abortion debate? It’s a lesson in media “framing.” Many news organizations, such as The Associated Press and NPR, do not use “pro-life” unless in a name or a quote because it’s inaccurate spin adopted by those advocates to sound better. And it suggests, of course, that the other side is pro-death.

That side is not even “pro-abortion.” They don’t endorse abortion; they just want the option available. Yet many news outlets don’t use the more accurate “pro-choice” label. Instead, the most common phrasing is “abortion rights” advocates. The other viewpoint most commonly gets described as “anti-abortion” or as abortion rights opponents. But proponents of that viewpoint don’t like either of those labels. In the first instance, they prefer to be for something rather than against something. In the second instance, they argue that use of “abortion rights” (or “reproductive rights”) focuses on the pregnant person and ignores the developing human life that also has a stake in the debate.

Speaking of which, what’s the right wording for that developing human life? Is it a “life” or not? Is it an “unborn baby”? One side says such wording bestows a humanness that isn’t warranted. News media prefer the scientifically accurate word  “fetus.” The other side argues that denies humanness and sanitizes the acts required to terminate a pregnancy.

Journalists shouldn’t sanitize. That’s why many abortion rights supporters wish the news media would go further than describing the Supreme Court’s decision as simply voiding the constitutional right to abortion. Call it what it is, they say: “forced childbirth” or “government-mandated childbirth” or “denial of bodily autonomy.”

And the justices who did it? Reporters like to call them “conservative” or “Republican.” Those are safe words, but do they rise to the occasion? Are additional adjectives such as “radical” or “right wing” political or honest? (Both, maybe.) Every news outlet must decide. Sometimes writers label the justices of the majority as constitutional “originalists” or “textualists.” That may be granting them a consistent legal logic that isn’t there.

In states where abortion becomes illegal, there’s valid concern about women resorting to “back-alley abortions,” a buzz phrase often used by abortion rights supporters that suggests dangerous procedures and criminality. Physicians for Reproductive Health, which advocates for the option of abortion, recommends the wording “self-managed abortion care,” which recognizes safe abortion by self-administered pill.

It’s a language jungle out there: Words packed with bias and politics and, even worse for journalism, words that are euphemisms. A divided, hyperpartisan audience is ready to pounce. Journalists must engage in conscientious but unfearing selections.

But let’s also acknowledge this: As important as language is, the journalism that the Supreme Court ruling calls for requires much more than making the right word choices. It requires coverage of the severe issues the court has created, such as extent of state restrictions, surveillance and enforcement methods, options for restoring rights, and the social, economic and psychological impacts on women and their children, especially those of color. There remains room to continue the debate about the morality of abortion, weighed against social consequences. And more broadly, there are valid concerns about the legitimacy of the Supreme Court and about other long-held rights that seem at risk.

The coverage should be unending and unafraid. Those might be the best word choices of all.

Policing the truth: Yes, the cops might be lying

Whenever a large-scale crime of violence grabs national media attention, it’s gut wrenching to watch those interviews with grieving families and witnesses. It’s only natural to think, “Leave those poor people alone.”

But reporters have reasons for doing it. Here’s one: To try to figure out if the police are lying to everyone.

We are seeing this now with the mass murders at an elementary school in Uvalde, Texas. Interviews and social media videos have shown that early law enforcement accounts of quick confrontation and bravery by officers were bogus.

News media have a history of trusting the public statements of officialdom, especially law enforcement (I say this as a former police beat reporter for all of 10 months). Deference to authority is unwise for journalists but often an enticing trap when those agencies provide a fount of metrics-pumping news stories. There are practical considerations, too. As a reporter, you need information fast, you have immediate access to police sources, and police have the power of investigation that adds to the presumed credibility of their statements.

I believe law enforcement accounts of most events are truthful based on their knowledge at the time. But if an event involves law enforcement itself – a shooting by police, a police chase, a confrontational arrest, a crisis response – reliability diminishes. A lot. The frequency may be undeterminable, but authorities will lie to protect themselves. Could be a few officers writing false reports. Could be a chief or a sheriff knowingly making false public statements.

From one infamous police news release: “(A suspect) was ordered to step from his car. After he got out, he physically resisted officers. Officers were able to get the suspect into handcuffs and noted he appeared to be suffering medical distress. … He was transported to Hennepin County Medical Center by ambulance where he died a short time later.” Recognize it? Probably not. It’s the original police description of the George Floyd case.

Some other false accounts of citizen deaths at the hands of police also got exposed: Adam Toledo. Daniel Prude. Breonna Taylor. Walter Scott. Eric Garner.

At least in high-profile cases, truth usually emerges eventually, sometimes because of media persistence, sometimes because of police or bystander video, and sometimes because internal affairs investigators did their jobs. In many other cases, though, journalists may not have the time or inclination to keep digging, leaving the public with only an official narrative that may or may not reflect what really happened.

Of course, accountability for law enforcement agencies means more than just ensuring the truth of public statements in major cases. True accountability means journalists make it a priority to constantly monitor practices and performance.

Kelly McBride, a former police reporter who is now a commentator on media ethics for The Poynter Institute, believes police reporting in general needs an overhaul. Most reporters are “stenographers” for police departments, she told a Poynter seminar on Zoom last year. She urges journalists to focus on police performance, including regularly seeking department records on citizen complaints, internal disciplinary actions, crime trends, and case clearance rates.

In the same vein, journalists should test police versions of major events by seeking out witnesses and other evidence. Laws that shield police records including 911 calls, dashboard and body camera video, and radio transmission transcripts pose  unjustifiable obstacles. (Alabama’s Supreme Court issued a terrible ruling last year.)

On a daily basis, law enforcement officers risk their lives to protect the community, and they fulfill that public service in ways large and small without headlines. But they’re powerful and capable of occasional harm, too. There are fair questions about systemic problems in policing. And sometimes, as in Uvalde, there are failures with catastrophic consequences. These realities demand skepticism and accountability, not stenography.

D.C. dinner of journos, pols and celebs was black tie and a black eye

BARACK OBAMA AT THE WHITE HOUSE CORRESPONDENTS’ ASSOCIATION DINNER IN 2013.

The news media that cover the White House have a really great plan for combating the common public perception that they are elitist and out of touch with the rest of the world.

They hosted a black-tie dinner in Washington to schmooze and hobnob with government leaders and politicians. Really.

The White House Correspondents’ Association dinner returned Saturday night after a two-year absence because of the pandemic. The gala event featuring Beltway journalists, leading political figures and celebrities presents such a terrible picture.

The message to media consumers (and haters) says this: The D.C. press and politicians are quite cozy, actually, and what we see 364 days a year is just a game they play to fulfill prescribed roles and maintain access. It makes one wonder if the independent and sometimes adversarial relationship that’s needed to produce accountability journalism truly exists in untempered form.

The event, which began in 1921, does good in raising money for journalism scholarships and calling attention to various threats to journalists and the First Amendment. But they don’t need to invite the people they cover to make that happen.

Issues with the White House press corps may run deeper than this event. Politico published an article on Friday quoting anonymous White House reporters saying they’re bored with the Biden Administration and long for the newsmaking chaos and leaks of the Trump Administration. And that their beat is no longer the big career boost it once was. 

Not exactly the frame of mind we need from the watchdogs of the executive branch.

White House journalists seem obsessed with their status. The dinner shows that, as do their frequent complaints when presidents don’t hold enough formal press conferences. I think that gripe stems less from an inability to get answers – because press secretaries can give answers – and more from wanting a president to validate the press’ importance. (And for some, to be seen on TV asking a tough question of the president of the United States.)

Certainly presidents ought to have to answer questions, but who cares if it’s at a press conference or while walking somewhere. There’s a lot of journalistic talent in the briefing room. I’ve always thought that instead of the horde, a couple of pool reporters could adequately handle a presidential press conference while all the other journalists should go talk to sources, dig into records, or visit communities affected by government actions. Because that’s how better journalism happens. 

State sports writing legends: We all kinda look alike, don't we?

If you happened to visit the recently announced list of The 50 Legends of the Alabama Sports Writers Association*, you saw a scroll of outstanding journalists who witnessed and captured many of the greatest sports moments of our lives.

But also: A bunch of white guys.

The list of 50 includes one Black journalist (Rubin Grant) and one female journalist (Kathy Jo Lumpkin). Whose fault is that?

Considering the ridiculously non-diverse pool it had to choose from, not the selection committee’s. (But I am dumbfounded by its omission of my 28-year colleague Solomon Crenshaw Jr., a constant ASWA award winner.)

OK, then whose?

That would be mine.  And every other hiring editor in every other state newspaper sports department for the past 50 years.

It’s true we didn’t get a lot of applications from Black or female sports writers, but that’s no excuse. Recruitment of under-represented groups should have been standard practice.

Why does it matter?  Well, it’s about impossible for any news organization to fulfill its commitment to the community it covers, or to even understand the community it covers, if it has no internal voices from that community.  I know, for instance, of several cases in which a female sports journalist might have said, “Hey, let’s not run that sympathetic profile of this athlete accused of rape.” 

This state has had – and still does have – a number of good Black and female sports reporters. But in the past, these reporters usually were freelance writers rather than staff writers, or didn’t stay long in the state, or, amazingly, got laid off. Today, representation is proportionally better in TV sports departments than at print/digital outlets. 

In a report released in September 2021, The Institute for Diversity and Ethics in Sport surveyed more than 100 newspapers and websites around the country and found that 77 percent of sports reporters were white and 85 percent were male. The numbers were similar for sports editors.

This is dismal, but actually represents slow progress. Nationally, female beat reporters are no longer an oddity (despite what Cam Newton might think), and the two best sports commentators in the business are Christine Brennan of USA Today and Sally Jenkins of The Washington Post.

Here and elsewhere, it’s possible to do better. Mentoring and scholarship programs offered to college students can work (the majority of my sports writing students are female and my classes always have some degree of Black representation). Early identification and recruitment of prospective hires also works, whether it’s a college journalist or someone working at a smaller outlet.

I’m optimistic that the next group of 50 Legends in 2072 is going to look a whole lot different.

 * Disclosure for those of you who don’t click the list: I am on it.

Thanks, but I don’t need Alabama politicians to tell me how to do my job

not my classroom. and that’s not critical race theory on the screens. though some people probably think it is.

I mentioned CRT in a class the other day. But I am not worried about getting fired. My students promised that if they ever bump into a state legislator, they’ll say I was talking about Customer Relations Training. Tee-hee.

The Alabama Senate is about to consider a bill, a version of which passed the House two weeks ago, that in essence prohibits or restrains the teaching of Critical Race Theory and other “divisive concepts” related to race and gender at all levels of education. This is a solution that has no problem.

The potential for unjustifiable interference with academic freedom looms larger for secondary education, but I wish to focus here on higher education, where professors across the state have protested this bill and its earlier versions.

The bill itemizes “divisive concepts,” and states that a public university may discipline or fire violators. 

As evidence that the sponsoring white Republican legislators know they are in dangerous constitutional and political territory, the proposed law as it relates to higher education is heavily caveated. The University of Alabama and other state universities have pushed for and achieved language changes, but of course they have to let the Legislature pass some kind of law like this because institutions of higher education are loathe to push back too hard against the people who decide their funding.

Among the caveats for colleges:

• The bill allows discussion of the listed divisive concepts as long as: students aren’t “compelled” to agree with them; the instruction occurs “in an objective manner”; and “the institution expressly makes clear that it does not endorse these divisive concepts.”

• The bill allows the teaching of topics and historical events “in a historically accurate context.”

Among the listed divisive concepts is this one: “That this state or the United States is inherently racist or sexist.” Not sure what “inherently” means. Nobody’s telling students that Alabama’s air and water make them racist. But the idea that the institutions and laws of Alabama have systemically perpetuated racism over time – Critical Race Theory, in essence – stands upon a mountain of evidence. I mean, there’s no way to spin the state constitution of 1901 as anything else. This seems like a good and necessary topic for the classroom.

Another divisive concept: “That an individual, solely by virtue of his or her race, sex, or religion, bears responsibility for actions committed in the past by other members of the same race, sex, or religion.” I dunno. I think the issue of reparations would be worthy of a spot on a syllabus.

If this bill becomes law, I could broach such subjects with students, but I’d feel truly perplexed about how to portray, for instance, white supremacy “in an objective manner.” And the requirement to say I don’t endorse a divisive concept? I feel a case of convenient forgetfulness coming on.

It’s fair to ask whether the majority of the Alabama Legislature has a clue as to what goes on in a college classroom. I won’t argue that CRT and similar topics aren’t being taught, because I know they are – in scattered, appropriate courses at UA and other places. But professors are not indoctrinating their students. We can’t even get them to learn the syllabus. Nor are we compelling assent, which to me means threatening disagreeing students with a lowered grade. Exposing students to new ideas and challenging existing ones falls many steps short of forced agreement.

One of my department colleagues, Dr. A.J. Bauer, teaches media law and his courses include some topics that might fall within the bill’s targeted concepts. He’s not trying to indoctrinate anyone, and doesn’t think he could anyway.

“Students, and especially conservative students, have no issue playing devil’s advocate or pushing back on lessons that don’t fit their preconceived notions about the world. Assent isn’t even the goal — critical thinking and active engagement with the course material and themes is.”

Bauer believes the bill is “extremely vague” and likely the U.S. Supreme Court would eventually rule such a law unconstitutional. In the meantime, though, “it will result in a chilling effect, where teachers and professors will self-censor when discussing matters of race, gender, and sexuality – if they choose to discuss them at all – for fear that a frivolous and unwarranted student complaint will result in their termination. This is likely the desired outcome of the bill’s sponsors.”

They say it isn’t, of course. But the other political factor to consider here is that Alabama’s jackass of an attorney general would probably love to yank a lib professor into court to further his political ambitions. In the same vein, multiple conservative groups around the U.S. have encouraged students to secretly record their professors. 

If we ever get to the point that teachers are scared of their students, that would be as destructive to good education as anything I can think of. It would be quittin’ time for a lot of educators.

In the smaller picture, I view this bill as political pandering. In the bigger picture, it’s an attempt to prevent educators from merely offering ideas that threaten the demographic groups that traditionally dominate politics and economics. Societies can’t progress when younger generations aren’t allowed to think about failures of the older ones, so they can do better. The state must let higher education play its role in this process.

The state should understand, too, that college students can handle divisive concepts, and they have the brains and free will to reject what they hear. For all the rightful alarm over infringement on the academic freedom of faculty, I’m even more troubled by the way this legislation insults my students.

Photos we don't want to see, but maybe should

in this 2019 photo, kaylee tyner, then a student at columbine high school and the founder of the “my last shot” campaign, shows the sticker on the back of her id card: “In the event that I die from gun violence please publicize the photo of my death.”

We spent part of Monday’s media ethics class talking about dead bodies.

The topic was prompted by some gut-wrenching social media photos of fatalities from Russia’s special operation to liberate Ukraine. (That’s how I’m referring to Vladimir Putin’s immoral invasion of a sovereign nation just in case Putin reads the Arenblog and decides to poison my Diet Coke.)

My very smart students nicely framed this longstanding dilemma of whether and when to publish such photos. Respect for the victims, compassion for victims’ families, and the danger of exposing audience to upsetting images all dictate not to publish. But showing the truth of war – so that citizens of the world might insist their nations never engage in it – demands no withholding.

The New York Times picked its side of one such debate on Monday. It published the most awful of these recent photos – the bodies of a Ukrainian mother and her two children killed by Russian mortar fire as they fled from fighting – at the top of Page 1A of its print edition and on its website homepage. (I learned this after class and decided to write about it. I don’t pick class discussion topics based on blog subjects.)

The Times’ director of photography cited “our duty as journalists to show our readers an unvarnished and accurate account of the world’s events, which are sometimes very difficult to see but necessary to understand.” (Warning: If you click the link above or some of the links below, you’re agreeing to view disturbing images.) The Times photographer called her photo “disrespectful” to the Ukrainian family, but she considered it more important to impactfully document a war crime. That’s especially persuasive considering Russia’s denials of such crimes. Other journalists mostly praised The Times on social media.

There’s actually a long media history of photos of dead people that drew vast public attention. That’s not to say they all changed public opinion or brought about new public policy. Among them: 

• Fourteen-year-old Emmett Till, killed by racists in Mississippi in 1955

• Kent State student Jeffrey Miller, shot by the Ohio National Guard at a war protest in 1970

• Alan Kurdi, a 3-year-old Syrian boy who drowned during his family’s attempt to escape fighting in Syria by sailing to Greece in 2015

• Oscar and Valeria Ramirez, a Salvadoran father and 2-year-old daughter who were seeking asylum in the US but drowned while trying to cross the Rio Grande River into Texas in 2019

Also in 2019, The Times published a death scene photo from a terrorist attack at a luxury hotel in Nairobi, Kenya. The Times mostly caught flak from critics who claimed the newspaper never would have done the same for a similar tragedy in the US. Indeed, the many American mass killings perpetrated with guns have seemed off limits for that kind of coverage by the press. Reason No. 36 why gun control legislation goes nowhere.

I think younger generations are more OK with explicit visuals than older ones. Most of the students in our conversation this week saw justification. Virtually every student of mine who has chosen this issue for an ethics paper in the past few years concluded the same.

In 2019, a student at Columbine High School started a campaign called “My Last Shot.” Participants placed a sticker on their identification cards: “In the event that I die from gun violence please publicize the photo of my death. #MyLastShot.”

One of my department colleagues, Dr. Kaitlin C. Miller, has published research related to graphic images. She said the decision of whether to publish is never clear cut.

In theory, she said, this “taking” of intimate moments from people’s lives, including their deaths, is justified “for a greater good. To show truth about the world. To possibly evoke emotion and even positive change.” But the evidence shows that doesn’t happen. 

“Sharing graphic images like that of killed Ukrainians does little to evoke change but does much to capitalize on the pain and suffering of others. This taking, thusly, seems unjustified,” Miller said.

SCREENSHOT OF TWITTER REACTION FROM A MEDIAITE.COM STORY. to see the photo, click the link in the fourth paragraph of this post..

Usually, a photo of death must meet certain criteria for an editor to deem it shareable: Not a closeup; no visible faces (The Times’ Ukraine photo Monday was an exception); and minimal blood and gore. Think about that last standard. Not unreasonable, and it keeps the complaints down, but it backpedals from complete truth.

The Ukraine government has held nothing back in its anti-Putin persuasion campaign of posting photos of dead, recognizable Russian soldiers on the internet and social media. The American press has mostly refrained from repeating these.

For the press, the particular communication platform matters. The Times’ decision Monday was debate worthy not just because of the decision to publish, but also because placement in such a prominent spot in the print edition and on the website homepage inevitably meant exposure to readers who didn’t intentionally seek out the photo and might not have wanted to see it. With digital platforms, at least, publishers have the option of a warning label and requiring visitors to consciously click a link. That seems responsible. Yet it also allows much of the public to avoid confronting a reality that we’d like to pretend does not exist.

The sanitized but still powerful visual journalism that emerges from war and other tragedy effectively creates necessary outrage. But perhaps because of the tenacious social and political obstacles to change, or because of the scope of the devastation, we feel helpless in turning outrage into corrective action. I don’t know that unmitigated photos and videos would change that.

I’d like to think that we don’t really need to see it in its most brutal form to understand the human atrocity that is war and violence. I may be wrong.

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“In the past when technology made it difficult for people around the world to see images of war, a single photo may have had more power then. Now, with the flooding of images and information, to take such intimate moments of death and share them with the public is often gratuitous.”

— UA Professor Dr. Kaitlin C. Miller

Public figures race to court with bogus grievances (and they know it)

Sarah Palin: I think I’ll file a libel lawsuit against a news organization that’s so legally flimsy that both the judge and jury will decide against me.

Kyle Rittenhouse: Hold my beer.

It’s becoming fashionable for individuals on the far right of the political spectrum who believe they are the unfair targets of the news media to engage in defamation litigation that’s purely grandstanding and harassment.

the march 29, 1960 advertisement in the new york times that sparked a landmark libel lawsuit by a montgomery, alabama, government official.

Palin, a former Republican vice presidential nominee, unsuccessfully sued The New York Times over an editorial that wrongly stated that a campaign advertisement by her political action committee had prompted a man to kill multiple people at a political rally in Arizona six years earlier.

Then Rittenhouse, the acquitted killer of two people at a protest in Kenosha, Wisconsin in 2020, announced this week on various media forums that he plans to sue selected celebrities and news organizations for their negative coverage of him, including labeling him as a “murderer.” He’s launching “The Media Accountability Project” to raise money for his efforts. This is so heroic that I have tears in my eyes.

Donald Trump and former Republican congressman Devin Nunes are others on this list. Lawyers, as officers of the court, are supposed to prevent misuse of the court system, but the politically motivated ones won’t. This is despite knowing how remarkably difficult it is for a public official or public figure (such as a celebrity) to win a libel suit. 

To do so, a public official or figure must prove that the accused publication acted with “actual malice.” That’s a really terrible name, because it implies personal animosity. A good plaintiff’s lawyer would certainly love to show personal animosity in court, but that’s not the definition. The standard of actual malice means the defendant published a false and damaging statement either knowing that it was false or showing “reckless disregard” for whether the statement was true or false. Making a mistake due to simple negligence is not actual malice.

This standard of proof arose from a court case that started in Alabama in 1960. A group of civil rights activists placed a full-page advocacy ad in The New York Times that contained minor factual errors. Southern politicians at the time liked to use litigation to try to impede the Northern press that was reporting on the civil rights movement, and Montgomery police commissioner L.B. Sullivan took exception to an inaccurate description of his officers’ actions toward protesting students at Alabama State University. He sued The Times. 

Under existing law, Sullivan needed to prove only that the ad contained errors and that they damaged his reputation. A Montgomery County jury awarded Sullivan $500,000, a huge amount for that era, and the Alabama Supreme Court upheld the verdict. The U.S. Supreme heard the case on appeal, and in 1964 it created the actual malice standard for libel against public officials and reversed the verdict. So New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, one of the landmark cases of press protection, didn’t even involve a reporter writing a news story.

The reversal was unanimous. Two justices even argued that the actual malice standard offered too little protection.

More recent SCOTUS cases that came from Alabama – Shelby County v. Holder, McCutcheon v. FEC – have damaged the quality of democracy in this country. NYT vs. Sullivan enhanced it. 

News outlets that fear legal liability arising from unintentional errors might shy away from tough reporting on powerful people who owe accountability to the public.

“Without it, there would be a chilling effect on speech from the media – a self-censorship that in the end would be far more harmful to the public at large than anything the media might say about a public figure or official,” said my department colleague, Dr. Dianne Bragg, who teaches media law.

At the same time, the ethical press doesn’t treat the actual malice standard as a license for sloppy journalism. And Bragg believes “any serious malfeasance on the part of the media can result in a successful case.”

Despite all the press freedom it has brought – probably because of it, actually – the Sullivan precedent may be in danger. Some conservative judges, including two on the U.S. Supreme Court, have publicly expressed interest in revisiting (translation: trashing) the 1964 ruling. Educated speculation is that Palin brought her lawsuit with the intent of giving a friendly high court a chance to lower the bar for media culpability.

If that happens, Bragg does not expect a neutral re-examination of legal foundations. She thinks some justices will be guided by their animosity toward the news media.

This is likely. It would be a natural move for conservatives in power who see the good work of the (usually) liberal press as a threat or, at least, a nuisance. It has to chafe them that an establishment institution like the U.S. Supreme Court gave the press such a formidable shield that allows it to thrive.

“Debate on public issues should be uninhibited, robust, and wide-open...”

— Justice William Brennan, writing the Supreme Court's opinion in New York Times v. Sullivan (1964)

Beijing Olympics: Media can't ignore the elephant in the room

Demonstration of Tibetans and Uyghurs in front of the Brandenburg Gate in Berlin against the Olympic Games in Beijing 2022. (PHOTO CREDIT: C.Suthorn / cc-by-sa-4.0 / commons.wikimedia.org)

The pageantry and inspiring athletic accomplishments of the Winter Olympics in Beijing, China, will captivate many of us for the next two weeks.

It will be easy to forget that outside the TV cameras’ frame, the host country is abusing and killing some of its people.

Human rights groups around the world have called on countries, companies and media to boycott the Beijing Games in protest of an array of documented oppression by the Chinese government, primarily the forced detention and labor of Uyghur Muslims in the Xinjiang region. These groups and the United States, which announced a boycott by diplomats, say China is committing genocide.

But a little genocide isn’t enough to keep corporate sponsors and NBC away when China is such a huge potential economic market and the Olympics are a TV ratings magnet. NBC has paid $7.75 billion to broadcast Olympics through 2032, so it’s going to carry forth. (Many of its announcers and crew will work from the U.S. but that’s because of COVID, not because of crimes against humanity.)

The issue is whether broadcasting endless hours of sports competitions serves to whitewash – or “sportwash” – the image of a country that’s committing atrocities. My department colleague, Dr. Andrew Billings, who has done extensive research on media coverage of Olympics, says such coverage traditionally avoids hard-news issues like this one, and lack of discussion could be considered “tacit condoning” of a host nation’s policies.

The head of NBC Olympics Production said the network will include the “geopolitical context” of the Beijing Games in its coverage, but that the focus will remain on the athletes. Billings said he anticipates NBC will report on China’s human rights violations during pre-competition coverage and as part of its normal news programs. “This might sound like a cop-out, but NBC likely knows that the people who tune in each night do so to watch the Olympic competitions as a form of escapism.”

He thinks it was unrealistic of protesters to expect a boycott by the network. “I completely understand why NBC would opt to show the Games and seek ways to highlight China’s problematic policies in a way that educates on air instead of via a highly costly media boycott.”

Journalists from NBC or any other news organization who want to report on the realities face a related question of how much they can actually do so. China promised press freedom at the Beijing Olympics in 2008, but it didn’t happen. According to the Committee to Protect Journalists, the Foreign Correspondents Club of China reported at least 30 cases of Chinese officials interfering with journalists during the Games, including assaults by police.

In 2022, China has again promised no restrictions but early indicators aren’t good. According to CPJ, international press have been barred from news conferences and competition venues in favor of more friendly domestic press. Further, the government, citing COVID, will confine journalists to the Olympic Village. No travel around the country for the chance to talk to the Chinese people.

The government also tightly controls the internet in its country. It has pledged an unrestricted internet during the Olympics but CPJ nonetheless advises journalists to “assume your devices and online activity will be monitored.”

None of this is surprising from the country that annually jails more journalists than any other country in the world.

The larger question is why Olympic Games take place in repressive countries in the first place. China isn’t the only example (see Sochi, Russia, 2014). One reason is the International Olympic Committee, to its discredit, has always separated sports and politics.

Second, abusive countries see the Olympics as a chance to cleanse themselves in the eyes of the world. Meanwhile, many democratic countries and large cities get spooked by public opposition to the enormous cost of hosting, which is rarely offset by revenue or economic development. Beijing, for instance, beat out only one other bidder, Almaty in Kazakhstan, another problematic nation.

Billings points out that we get to go through these issues of complicity again later this year. The FIFA World Cup begins in November in Qatar.

Not falling for phony news takes a lot of darn work

UMM, this didn’t happen. it went viral on social media, but it’s fake, like many other photos and news reports. some of those news reports, of course, carry far more dire consequences than this did.

This week is National News Literacy Week. In light of the rampant spread of false information these days, this seems humorously futile. What’s next? Courteous Driving Week? Brussels Sprouts Appreciation Week?

News literacy, sometimes called media literacy, means that audiences, not just news organizations and platforms, carry responsibility for stopping distribution of misinformation and disinformation that arise from social media and substandard professional news outlets. (Misinformation means unintentional wrong information; disinformation means wrong information created or shared intentionally to cause mischief, advance a political agenda or make money.) This audience obligation entails evaluating the credibility of statements before choosing to believe them and share them.

Considering the avalanche of information that news consumers receive these days, along with some people’s desire to believe anything that reinforces preconceived notions while rejecting everything else, this expectation of literacy among readers and viewers seems unrealistic. A 2019 Stanford University study found young people especially unprepared to evaluate online content.

Lack of literacy can lead to people looking foolish. No, a raccoon did not go for a ride on the back of an alligator. More consequentially, though, it can reinforce political division. No, Democrats aren’t fronting a pedophile ring. And sometimes it leads to people endangering themselves and others. No, COVID vaccines don’t have microchips in them. 

Even the non-gullible among us – and sometimes we’re all gullible – need to keep constant vigilance. Here’s some advice on how to make yourself more news literate.

a typical website rating by mediabiasfactcheck.com, this one of the site renewedright.com, which was rated “questionable.”

• Use multiple, credible news sources. Credibility, or believability, develops over time as a news source establishes a track record of accuracy. But a familiar brand is not necessarily a credible brand. Bias affects many well-known outlets. Fox News’ prime time talk shows, which are opinion shows masquerading as news shows, are especially bad. But there are others.

• When getting news from social media, try to identify the originating source of the information. Remember that social popularity does not equate to truth. It’s often the opposite, in fact.

• If you’re on an unfamiliar website, or an unfamiliar website is the origin of a social media post, look for clues to the reliability of the site. Click the “About” tab. A political or business affiliation or funding source could mean the site has an agenda and can’t be trusted. Be suspicious of sites that don’t list staff names or contact information. Same goes if you see misspellings and poor grammar. Remember also that on some sites, everything is spoof or satire, presented to look as if it isn’t.

• You don’t have to be a detective if you don’t wish. Several online services created to combat disinformation rate news sites on degree of adherence to principles of good journalism. Check out newsguardtech.com, or mediabiasfactcheck.com, or verificationhandbook.com.

• If you want to check the truth of a particular report on a website or social media platform, do an online search with keywords and see what other news outlets, if any, are reporting the same thing. You also can use sites whose sole purpose is to confirm or debunk particular stories. Check what you’re reading with factcheck.org, or politifact.com, or snopes.com, among others.

• Run an online search on the bylined reporter if the name is unfamiliar. What’s their bio? What else have they written?

• Many news stories rely on polls, surveys and other research. Identify who compiled the data and run an online background search.

• Technology allows for hard-to-detect manipulation of photos and videos, and often images are presented as representing something they don’t. Check video and photo authenticity by doing a “reverse search” online. Use Google’s Reverse Image Search or tineye.com.

• Stop giving automatic credence to the reported statements of authority figures such as politicians. These days, many of them will say anything if they think it will win them votes. 

Looking at all this great advice, I think it’s obvious: This is more than any of us wants or has time to do. And that’s a big part of the problem. The purveyors of disinformation count on us not to do it.

The famous case of the free press and the atomic bomb

A New York state judge’s order last month prohibiting The New York Times from publishing memos written by a lawyer for the political spying organization Project Veritas blatantly violates the First Amendment. But not every court case seeking to dictate press publishing decisions is as laughably wrong as this one.

Take, for instance, the case in which publication might have meant the end of mankind. True story.

In 1979, The Progressive, a politically liberal magazine based in Wisconsin that still exists today, planned to publish an article detailing how a hydrogen bomb works. The U.S. government went to court to try to prevent publication. It’s a notable case in the legal history of prior restraint.

Prior restraint refers to government action – a law or a court order, for examples – that blocks publication or broadcast before it happens. The U.S. Supreme Court ruled in 1931 that prior restraint infringes on the First Amendment right of freedom of the press when it struck down a Minnesota law that prohibited publication of “malicious, scandalous or defamatory” information. However, the court left open the possibility that prior restraint could be warranted in cases of obscenity, incitement to riot, or sensitive military details such as number and location of troops.

In the most famous prior restraint case, in 1971, the Supreme Court ruled that the federal government could not stop The New York Times and The Washington Post from printing the so-called Pentagon Papers, a classified government report on U.S. decision making about the Vietnam War prior to 1968. The report, leaked by a former Pentagon contractor and war opponent named Daniel Ellsberg, showed that the government had made deceptive public pronouncements about the war’s progress.

The government argued unsuccessfully that disclosure of the report threatened national security, jeopardized lives of military and intelligence personnel, and could be prevented under the exception identified in the 1931 case. The Supreme Court ruled that prior restraint is unconstitutional unless it’s needed to prevent an immediate, inevitable and grave threat to national security. Disclosure of the Pentagon Papers did not pose such a threat, the court ruled.

The Progressive case eight years later was potentially more explosive. (Oh. Sorry. Wince!)

The government argued that the mechanics of the hydrogen bomb was classified information and that disclosure would aid foreign countries that wanted their own H-bombs. It also argued that a court could block the magazine article under the narrow national security exception carved out in previous Supreme Court decisions.

The magazine, with a track record of alarm over nuclear proliferation, countered that such details were essential to public debate about the issue. It also claimed it had obtained all its information from interviews with scientists and publicly available information. And it disputed that a foreign enemy with the resources to build a bomb would learn anything new from a magazine article.

The national media were divided over The Progressive’s intended action. According to an article by Belinda J. Scrimenti in the Ohio State Law Review, the Saturday Review wrote that publication would be “a crime against humanity.”

Because of the established presumption that prior restraint is unconstitutional, the case’s burden of proof fell on the government. Nonetheless, the judge sided with the government and blocked the article. "I want to think a long, hard time before I'd give a hydrogen bomb to (Uganda’s terrorist dictator) Idi Amin,” Judge Robert Warren said.

He also made some mistakes, such as concluding that the story did include classified information unavailable elsewhere and that the story presented “the recipe for a do-it-yourself hydrogen bomb.” Alarmingly, he stated that he saw "no plausible reason why the public needs to know the technical details about hydrogen bomb construction to carry on an informed debate.” (This is similar to another judge who thinks he’s an editor: The judge in the current Project Veritas case stated that communications between a client and a lawyer “simply cannot be a subject of general interest and of value and concern to the public.”)

 The Progressive appealed. During the appeal, the Madison (Wisconsin) Press Connection published a story containing essentially the same information (and showing that it was obtainable in the public domain). According to a 2019 retrospective article in The Progressive, the Press Connection worked overnight to produce a special edition off its normal publication schedule so that the government didn’t have time to try to stop the story.

In the wake of this, the Justice Department dropped its legal fight. The case over whether to mute had become moot. (Oh. Sorry. Grimace!)

After six months of prior restraint, in October 1979, The Progressive published “The H-bomb secret: How we got it and why we’re telling it.” Idi Amin never did drop a hydrogen bomb.

Prior restraint, thankfully, remains extremely difficult for the U.S. government to achieve. But not impossible. Narrow permissible circumstances remain in Supreme Court precedents. And the ruling in The Progressive case, although not very influential because it was merely a state district court judge, remains unreversed.

As judicial appointments and elections in the U.S. become more politicized, and the media increasingly get disrespected by politicians and segments of the public, the danger of prior restraint remains. Even if the fate of the human race doesn’t hang in the balance.