At UA, questions about a different kind of liberalness

(UPDATE: 60% of faculty endorsed the proposal, which will take effect in fall 2025. Not surprisingly, the least amount of support came from the College of Arts and Sciences.)

As you know, my professor colleagues around the nation and I are indoctrinating our students with corruptive liberal views. I can’t even get them to format their assignments correctly but yeah, sure, we’re doing that.

A different sort of liberal is under scrutiny at UA right now – liberal arts courses.

Faculty are voting now on whether to support a task force proposal to reduce the number of liberal arts courses that students must take. Under the proposal, which would go into effect in fall 2025 if adopted, the general education requirements that include such courses would shrink from 53 credit hours to 37. Students would make up the difference by taking more courses in their major or by double majoring.

The specifics show a de-emphasis in liberal arts. STEM courses (science, technology, engineering and math) are left mostly as is. Among the changes, students would have to take:

• Three instead of four courses in humanities, literature and fine arts

• Three instead of four courses in history and social/behavioral sciences

• Zero instead of two courses in foreign languages if the student had sufficient foreign language education in high school

• One instead of two courses that are writing intensive

Students would also have greater freedom of choice among classes in humanities, literature, fine arts, history and social science. Currently, a student must take at least one history course and one literature course. As proposed, students could cluster their six required courses within two or three of these subject areas and graduate without taking a history or literature class.

The underlying theme here is to better prepare graduates for jobs. A student’s choice of major presumably reflects their anticipated career path so more courses within the major would help.

The most alarmed faculty have derided the new plan as starting to turn UA into a “technical school.” (“UAT” — University of Alabama Tech. Ha.)

Based on conversations with two of my classes (sample size = 50), most students support the proposed change. Many of them dislike being forced to take courses they have no interest in and for which they see no future usefulness. Required general education courses delay their major courses, they said, and because of low motivation, some gen ed classes pull down their GPA.

Economics justifies the proposal, too. With the ridiculous escalating cost of college – current annual cost of tuition, room and board at UA is $26,326 for in-state students and $46,686 for those from out of state – graduates and families have every right to expect that they’re paying for skills and knowledge that will translate into easier job placement and long-term economic gain in the real world. “Return on investment” is a thing in higher education.

Having said all that, I asked my students if they had ever taken a mandatory core curriculum class and discovered that they loved it. I got hands from about 33 percent. Yeah, that’s a minority, but it’s way more than zero.

In our discussions, several students argued the merits of exploring new subjects and a broad-based education.  They found applicability that they never expected, they said. They developed transferable thinking skills. They learned cool stuff (shoutouts for Oceanography and others).

I suggested that even with a reduced core curriculum, students could use their elective courses to try change-of-pace subjects. But my students were adamant that their cohorts aren’t going to do that on a significant scale unless forced to.

Several skeptics of a switch to more credit hours within majors noted that freshmen and sophomores may need several semesters to identify their most suitable major, and a significant number will eventually wish to change it. In a blog post in August 2019, I wrote this about discovering new areas of interest: “If college doesn’t ever cause at least a moment of doubt about your chosen major or career, you’re doing it wrong.” I still believe that.

My background colors my view on this. I attended a liberal arts college. Majored in political science. Took exactly two journalism courses. Career time spent in politics: 0 minutes. Career time spent in journalism: 35 years.

The large newswriting course I teach has lots of public relations majors in it because it’s required for them. Some of them don’t want to be there. A few, though, discover an interest and an aptitude they never knew they had. Will they switch majors or careers because of it? Highly unlikely. But they suddenly have a new post-graduation option if they want it. That’s a good thing.

Getting well-rounded makes particular sense for students in fields of media. The content they will someday produce professionally could be about anything and everything. So use one of life’s rare opportunities for exploration to learn something about anything and everything.

Crime stories are everywhere, but you really don't have to stay home

The news media love crime stories, which, of course, is the fault of the audience for giving them clicks and ratings.

But some commentators on the press offer unreservedly brutal words for how journalists do crime coverage:

• Tauhid Chappell and Mike Rispoli of Free Press wrote for Nieman Lab in 2020: “Crime coverage is terrible. It’s racist, classist, fear-based clickbait masking as journalism. It creates lasting harm for the communities that newsrooms are supposed to serve.”

• Kelly McBride of Poynter told an online seminar in 2021 that years from now, “newsrooms will issue apologies for the harm they caused” with their crime reporting. For good measure, she called it “journalistic malpractice.”

Yikes.

The failures begin with too much trust in the crime accounts offered by law enforcement. I’ve written about this previously.

But it’s more than that. Fair questions surround the news media’s pattern of reporting on crime primarily in the form of individual, perhaps sensationalized breaking news reports, and whether the emphasis on crime causes news consumers to become more fearful about their communities than they need to be.

I have previously defended so-called “episodic” coverage of violent crime because it often focuses on the human toll, and the public having its guts wrenched by that is the first step toward action and resolution. Still, those news organizations that decided they needed to revamp their police reporting almost universally have decided that means more big-picture stories on causes, effects and solutions.

A good example of such deep-dive crime reporting is under way in Birmingham. The Birmingham Times and AL.com have partnered to produce a periodic “Beyond the Violence” series exploring a dramatic rise in Birmingham homicides so far this year. The city is on pace to surpass its record high of 141 in 1991, according to AL.com.

The partnership allows each organization to benefit from the reporter specialties and connections of the other, and produce more “expansive and comprehensive information than if either publisher went alone,” said Birmingham Times Executive Editor Barnett Wright*, whose organization focuses heavily on Birmingham’s predominantly Black neighborhoods. It also means a wider audience than either could reach alone.

In-depth reporting like this offers a chance to perform the vital public service of putting crime frequency into accurate perspective. Substantial research shows that the frequent presentation of crime by the media – not just the news media but also by the entertainment media, especially TV shows – causes the audience to think their community is more dangerous than the numbers say it really is. Academics have a name for this: “Mean World Syndrome.”

 “Mean World” effect has significant bad consequences: minority communities get unfairly associated with rampant crime; residents flee those communities; residents elsewhere won’t go there, thus diminishing social and economic gain in those areas. Politicians use fear to win votes. Gun companies do the same to sell more weapons. Citizens feel the need to buy.  Anxiety abounds.

Social media also play a role. AL.com’s John Archibald* researched this during his year as a Nieman Fellow at Harvard University. “(Social media) algorithms that keep popular crime news in news feeds for long and recurring periods of time contribute to the culture of fear and polarization,” he said. “…The viral nature of crime news and the fact that algorithms often re-post old crime stories in feeds gives an outsized perception of the amount of crime that occurs nationally.”

That amount is going down. Violent crime per person in the U.S. has declined almost 50% since its peak in 1991. In Birmingham, the homicide trend is alarming but other violent crime (rape, robbery, aggravated assault) is down 21% from mid-October 2021 to the same point of 2022, according to online statistics from the Birmingham Police Department. Property crime is down 1%.

“Americans believe violent crime is rising, despite its decline over the years,” Akintude Ahmad wrote in Columbia Journalism Review in 2019. “Crime is now at its lowest rate in four decades. Yet it remains the No. 1 topic on local news.”

The veteran Wright, whose newsroom generally does not publish breaking crime news, knows the challenges of keeping crime rates in perspective. “What gets more clicks: A story about an alarming homicide trend or a story about overall crime being down? The question is will the media convey the downward trend? This is why I believe the BT/AL.com project is so important. We're going beyond just the daily reports of homicides.”

Amen to that.

Still, I’d never suggest that local news media across the country should stop treating major violent crimes as news. I would suggest, though, a de-emphasis on smaller crimes and greater emphasis on trends, causes, solutions and stories that protect the public. Add in accountability stories about law enforcement performance, and constant numerical perspective on the prevalence of crime.

In other words, it’s not crime reporting. It’s public safety reporting.

*(Disclosure: Former colleague of mine)

Why you're (probably) wrong about Paul Finebaum

PAUL FINEBAUM ON STAGE WITH UA PROFESSOR DR. ANDREW C. BILLINGS IN AUGUST 2021.

I fear this post will infuriate everyone who ever worked with me in The Birmingham News sports department.

Paul Finebaum will be inducted Thursday into the Hall of Fame of the University of Alabama College of Communication (where I work) and I think it’s deserved.

I offer this perspective as a competitor when Finebaum worked for The Birmingham Post-Herald, and as a guest on his show – the local radio version, not the current national TV/radio version – a half-dozen times or so. Over the years he said good and bad things about The News. I think my former colleagues mostly remember the bad.

Like him or not, you can respect the prominence he has achieved as a commentator for ESPN and the SEC Network. Beyond that, what word do you associate with him? Outrageous? Brash? Loudmouth? Well, if so, that’s part and parcel of sports talk radio and TV. Compared to some others, he’s almost restrained.

I listened occasionally when I was in the business. Certainly, I’m aware of some moments – either said by Finebaum or allowed to be said by a caller – that dropped my jaw for being beyond the pale. Some of his callers are indeed nuts.

“We’ve cornered the market on insanity,” he told an unsurprisingly large group of UA students during an August 2021 event of the Alabama Program in Sports Communication. (Finebaum gives generously of his time for guest speaking at UA. He has also invited two of my students to appear on his show.)

But the show has also produced some powerfully affecting moments, real news and even public service. A sense of community created by the show emerges when, for instance, a longtime regular caller passes away.

With any media commentator, the actual words matter more than the intent. But I’ve always given Finebaum credit for acknowledging, usually in academic settings, that he’s an “actor” playing a role. And over time he has changed how he plays it, he says. These days, according to him, you’ll hear less of his own opinion, fewer rants, fewer hot takes.

““We are in the entertainment business,” he said at APSC. “(But) we try to do things right.”

Even as he acts and entertains, he still flashes journalistic chops, and I think that’s what many people overlook. He’s a very good interviewer (first hand knowledge here). His blunt questioning of Nick Saban on live TV about the non-suspension of a star player in 2016 was a massively impressive moment of accountability journalism that not every reporter would have had the gumption to try. Going back 40 years, Finebaum earned awards for sports investigative reporting at the Post-Herald. He broke stories in his columns.

In grad school I wrote a research paper about the history of sports writing in Alabama (one grad research paper = instant expert). An interviewee, a sports writer who has been on the scene in Alabama longer than me or Finebaum, offered that the 1980 arrival of this new Post-Herald reporter recently out of the University of Tennessee marked the start of a sea change in state sports writing from non-critical, blind-eye reporting in the ‘60s and ‘70s to more aggressive questioning of powerful sports figures that continues today.

That’s an essential mindset for sports journalism in Alabama and everywhere. Igniting that transformation seems Hall of Fame worthy to me.

A journalist who doesn’t want you to buy his book

When the best journalists put their work in book form, they invest exhaustive effort to portray the subject as completely and truthfully as possible. Often, they nail it.

Sometimes, in hindsight, they miss.

Sportswriter Jeff Pearlman, a New York Times bestselling author whose work includes books on Barry Bonds, Roger Clemens, the Los Angeles Lakers and the Dallas Cowboys, believes he missed with his 2016 book “Gunslinger: The remarkable, improbable, iconic life of Brett Favre.”

Remarkably and improbably, Pearlman went on Twitter on Sept. 13 and told his followers not to buy or read Gunslinger. He did so in the immediate wake of news reports that Favre, the retired Green Bay Packers and Southern Mississippi quarterback, knowingly participated in steering $5 million in government money intended for impoverished Mississippi families to building at new volleyball stadium at Southern Miss, where his daughter played on the team.

Pearlman posted: “I wrote a biography of the man that was largely glowing. Football heroics, overcoming obstacles, practical joker, etc. Yes, it included his grossness, addictions, treatment of women. But it was fairly positive. … And, looking at it now, if I'm being brutally honest — I'd advise people not to read it. He's a bad guy. He doesn't deserve the icon treatment.”

Keep in mind that Favre’s depraved scheme occurred after Pearlman published the book. And nothing the author wrote was factually wrong. But that didn’t matter to Pearlman, who feels a strong commitment to ethics. (I say this based on reading his online posts and listening to him during a Zoom appearance with some UA journalism students.)

My department colleague, Lars Anderson, knows Pearlman from 15 years of working together at Sports Illustrated magazine and wasn’t surprised by Pearlman’s post.

jeff pearlman

Anderson has written a dozen sports books of his own, including ones on Nick Saban, Dabo Swinney and the Mannings. He says the key to portraying truth is “reporting, reporting, reporting.” Reflecting on his books, “I feel good about full portraits I've painted.”

Pearlman knows the value of deep reporting, too. For his latest book coming out in October – “The Last Folk Hero: The Life and Myth of Bo Jackson” – he interviewed more than 700 people.

Of course, an author has to want to show reality. With authorized biographies in which the main subject cooperates, there’s a danger that the portrayal gets whitewashed or at least softened. The most prominent example I can think of: The paid ghostwriter of “The Art of the Deal,” the 1987 bestseller about Donald Trump, has spent years disavowing the book and trashing Trump.

“I've found that it's almost liberating when the subject doesn't participate,” Anderson says. “It’s the job of the biographer, in my view, to reveal truths about your subject that your subject cannot see.”

In the case of Gunslinger, Favre didn’t participate. And Pearlman doesn’t do whitewashes (see the books on Bonds and Clemens and his famous 1999 Sports Illustrated article on Atlanta Braves pitcher John Rocker).

Sure, it’s easier for a successful author to swear off a book. But in the world of publishing, it’s an unnatural act. And worthy of applause.

It also serves as a reminder and a warning for journalists. Whether writing a book or a feature article, you may think you know a person. But in some cases, you really don’t.

A missing voice in big-time college sports: The athletes

Whenever big-time college sports unveil their latest idea for making more money – conference explanation, playoff expansion, whatever – the voices in the news coverage belong mostly to coaches, league commissioners, university presidents and TV executives.

 There’s a viewpoint usually missing: that of the athletes. Anyone remember them? They’re the ones who have to travel the additional miles, play the additional games and, oh by the way, pass their courses.

 I have seen firsthand the difficulties that students who are athletes have in juggling commitments. Sure, playing an NCAA sport has all kinds of benefits, possibly including being the reason a student can get an education in the first place. But athletic obligations affect what majors athletes can choose, the time of day they can take courses, and how often they miss class because of travel, to name just a few effects.

Whether athletes get accommodations such as excused absences and deadline extensions depends on the professor, the course and the circumstances. Sometimes yes, sometimes no. If you happen to think that no one cares whether athletes fulfill their coursework or not, news flash: You don’t know what you’re talking about.

So, when the latest money grab comes along, my first thought goes to educational impact, not TV ratings or whether my team now has a better chance to win a championship. Crazy, I know.

Educational impact doesn’t get much consideration in boardrooms and executive offices, or if it does, it eventually loses out to the lure of really big dollar signs. That tends to be the focus of media stories too.

One reason the athletes’ viewpoint is so scant* is that almost 90 percent of state universities that compete in NCAA Division I prohibit reporters from interviewing athletes without permission from the athletics department. I hold the view that public universities should be able to restrict athletes’ free expression only as it relates to game competition and internal team matters, and not to athletes’ opinions on issues in the world, including sports and education. But that’s not the way it is in reality.

In light of the Southeastern Conference adding Texas and Oklahoma by 2025, and the Big 10 adding USC and UCLA in 2024, I asked some UA athletes (three former, one current) who were students of mine to assess the good or bad effects on athletes when a league adds increasingly distant schools as members.

Former soccer player Taylor Morgan dislikes the move. She points out that travel isn’t only on weekends.  “Traveling to away games is taxing. At times it’s fun but at times it’s stressful. Knowing you’re missing a test that everyone else is taking or having to take it early or having to get notes from a friend is something that adds up.” Athletes already face a tremendous time commitment to their sport that extends to before and after the regular season, she said. “At what point is money less important than our players’ physical and mental wellness?”

Riley Mattingly Parker, a current soccer player, also cites possible physical consequences.  “Traveling already takes a toll on collegiate players; adding even farther distance could potentially cause an increase in injuries if the fatigue becomes too much.” The positive side, as she sees it, is a chance to see other parts of the country. And in her case, the SEC’s addition of Texas and Oklahoma “will allow for my family and friends to see me play more” because she’s from Dallas.

Former football player Giles Amos thinks athletes benefit from improved competition and more national exposure. “Being in a bigger and better conference allows them a better opportunity to play in these widely televised games being seen by fans all over the nation, especially if you're from somewhere on the other side of the country and your family can't make it to the game.”

Arielle Schafer rowed for UA. Expanded conferences bring more money from TV deals, primarily for football broadcasts, which means more money for Title IX sports such as hers, she said. “I was able to have opportunities due to the athletic department thriving and was never slighted. Non-football athletes in the Big Ten and SEC could see the same thing now.” On the other hand, she said, “conference schedules will be a nightmare” that affects class schedules.

It’s not a great surprise that these individuals cited positives and negatives. But it’s also not the uniform chorus of rah-rahs usually heard in the media as college athletics continues its journey deeper into mega commercialism.

 * Some athlete voices got plenty of media attention for a time in 2020 regarding pandemic safety and racial justice. That was because athletes at certain schools organized campaigns intended to go public.

“At what point is money less important than our players’ physical and mental wellness?”

— Former UA athlete Taylor Morgan

Tattletales: News media love to call each other out

Sunday marked the final broadcast of CNN’s 30-year-old news media criticism show called “Reliable Sources.” The reasons for the cancellation aren’t clear, but the network’s new CEO has said he wants to cut back on opinion, re-emphasize straight reporting and, notably, attract conservative viewers who have turned off CNN.

Good luck with that last part, fella.

There’s still plenty of press criticism out there from politicians and other partisans, but less and less from professional reporters who are designated to do so. In addition to losing “Reliable Sources,” the job of “public editor” – a newsroom reporter given the authority and independence to listen to audience complaints and write about their own organization’s failings – has almost disappeared.

All of this is concerning because the press is an influential institution that needs to be held publicly accountable for its considerable shortcomings. But I’m not going to get too concerned. That’s because a strong ethic of “self-policing” remains within the industry. In other words, journalists like to rat each other out.

Some national news outlets, such as The Washington Post, The New York Times and Politico, still employ media beat reporters or commentators. There also are industry watchdog groups, such as Columbia Journalism Review and Media Matters for America. And you can find plenty of individual blogs. (Yes, the Arenblog is somewhere on that list.) I especially like this one and this one.

Mainly, though, watchdogging of journalism comes when one medium reports on another, exposing inaccuracy, conflicts of interest, editorial timidity and a host of other misdeeds.

One of the most notorious scandals in journalism history began in 2003 when The Washington Post wrote a story headlined, “N.Y. Times Article Bears Similarities to Texas Paper’s.” It ended up with The New York Times uncovering pervasive fraud and plagiarism by one of its own reporters, Jayson Blair.

A few other, random examples:

• The New York Times used video content analysis to document the racism and fear-mongering of Fox News talk show host Tucker Carlson.

• Buzzfeed exposed conflicts of interest by New York Times columnist David Brooks, who wrote about subjects in which he had undisclosed financial ties. He cut those ties and the newspaper added editor’s notes to some past columns.

• The Washington Post raised accuracy questions about a well-read story published by The Atlantic on rich, overzealous parents using athletics to gain their children’s admission to Ivy League schools, leading to a retraction.

• The military newspaper Stars and Stripes cast doubt on a 12-year-old story told multiple times by NBC Nightly News anchor Brian Williams that his helicopter was hit by enemy fire in Iraq. The network suspended him for six months and he never returned to that position.

(Careful readers will note that all but one of these examples led to consequences. Fox News and Carlson? Zilch.)

This type of self-monitoring happens on the local level, too. One example: A deep dive by Los Angeles Magazine into problems with The Los Angeles Times’ editorial leadership at the time. Local “alternative” publications often like to criticize the dominant local media, which are fair game.

All this public finger pointing seems noncollegial and harmful to the reputation of the industry. You rarely see this sort of recrimination in many other fields of work. But keeping quiet is dishonorable, and in the long run truth and public trust in journalism are better served by open self-examination, no matter how embarrassing.

Alabama Media Group gets into the digital subscription business

Two weeks ago, USA Today announced that visitors to its website would have to pay a monthly fee to access the best of its content, becoming the last national daily newspaper to stop offering all of its work for free online.

This is a trend among daily newspapers of all sizes. One study from 2019 (latest I could find) reported that 76% of the U.S. dailies surveyed had a “paywall” of some kind on their websites. That number was 60% just two years prior.

In May 2020, when the Alabama Media Group was seeking voluntary payments to support its journalism, I offered the belief that AMG probably would put most of its digital content behind a paywall someday, as the majority of the websites of parent company Advance Local have done with at least some of their work since then. But that hasn’t happened with AMG (full disclosure: I used to work there). Full access to AL.com remains free.

What has happened is that, for the first time, AMG is selling some exclusive digital content.

The company this year launched “The Lede” in each of its major markets – Birmingham, Huntsville and Mobile. (“Lede” is a journalist’s weird spelling of the first paragraph of a story.)

The Lede is a daily digital product delivered by email or accessible by computer and mobile app. It contains news enterprise stories, recent breaking stories, features, sports stories, commentaries, obits, games and puzzles. Statewide topics appear in all three markets, but the top stories, usually emphasizing a local issue, are distinct.

“The Lede is a way for us to bring back a daily touchpoint for local coverage,” AMG Vice President of Content Kelly Scott wrote in an email. “…The Lede allows us to go deeper on topics that matter to residents in each community.”

On Monday, for instance, The Lede cover story for Mobile was about oil and gas lease money for the Gulf Coast. The Huntsville cover focused on the city’s transit system as a transportation alternative. Birmingham carried a cover story about age trends in Jefferson County.

From my reading of The Lede for Birmingham over a few weeks, the cover story and a few other items are exclusive to The Lede each day, meaning they aren’t available for free on AL.com. The majority of the content can be found on the site. But industry research indicates that many readers like the value of having news delivered directly to them in organized fashion instead of searching on sites that are ever-changing and often user unfriendly.

Cost of The Lede is $9.99 per month, a typical rate for such a product. It’s also included with the purchase of a Birmingham, Huntsville or Mobile print subscription.

News organizations are notorious for creating new products simply by demanding more work from existing personnel or by taking personnel from existing products. But AMG has invested in The Lede. It added a reporter dedicated to the new venture in each market. It also hired Kevin Scarbinsky as an exclusive, all-markets freelance sports columnist. (My former colleague is a high-value asset, in my opinion.)

While The Lede obviously carries some stories that otherwise would appear on AL.com, the website is essentially unaffected. AMG and other news media companies that still want digital advertising as one of their significant revenue sources know that requiring payment for content – whether by moving it to a new paid product or by putting up a site paywall – will decrease the web traffic that advertisers want.

There’s another issue here. Paywalls deprive people who can’t or don’t want to pay of vital civic information. It’s true that, except for a decade or so of free online journalism at the start of this century, news has always had a price. And the study I mentioned earlier says concern about paywalls and informed citizens is “overblown for now,” mainly because a slight majority of the 212 outlets it surveyed across seven countries remain free. But where paywalls exist, I think it’s a valid concern.

Scott is aware of this issue. She says local news that readers need for civic participation will remain on AL.com. “We believe it’s important from an equity standpoint and to make sure citizens have access to the reporting they need to be civically engaged where they live,” she said.

Charging for news helps to financially support the continuation of that news. It’s the increasingly necessary trend. But hallelujahs to any outlet that can give it to their community for free.

Publication frequency keeps dropping nationally

While we’re talking about AMG and Advance Local, I came across some interesting facts about the publication frequency of U.S. newspapers. Back in 2012, Advance changed The Birmingham News, The Huntsville Times and The Mobile Press-Register from daily publication to three days a week. (It also reduced frequency of other properties at other times, with the first being Ann Arbor, Michigan, in 2009.) The question then was whether this was a foresightful survival strategy that other companies would copy, or the short-sighted, greed-motivated actions of an outlier.

A decade later, 40 of the 100 largest circulation papers in the country deliver a print edition six or fewer times a week, according to a report released three weeks ago by Northwestern University professor Penny Abernathy. Of those 40, 11 publish a print edition one or two or times a week. The Tampa Bay Times, Salt Lake Tribune and the Arkansas Democrat Gazette are examples. Many smaller dailies have also reduced frequency. It’s a trend that began with the recession of 2008, the report says.

Every market has its own peculiarities, but these facts suggest to me that most other news companies to this point have maintained greater faith in the economics of print – or more tolerance for falling numbers – than Advance did. But for business trends, a decade is not long enough to draw conclusions. I anticipate a continuing loss of print days until some unpredictable point in time when newspapers are gone.

Sick and tired of all the bad news? You're not alone

“I can’t even.”

That was a common remark on social media in the wake of discovery that a mass shooting in Highland Park, Illinois, left a 2-year-old boy orphaned. He was found wandering in the street. “Are Mommy and Daddy coming soon?” he later asked his grandfather.

I can’t even.

Of course, what’s the unspoken part of that sentence?

“I can’t even comprehend something so awful.”

“I can’t even imagine what life will be like for him.”

“I can’t even believe we live in a society where that could happen.”

All of the above.

And for some people: “I can’t even bring myself to read the news these days.”

It’s bad out there: COVID, the Ukraine war, mass killings, political insanity, add your own. Many people decide they just don’t want to read or watch it anymore. They engage in “news avoidance.”

According to a Reuters Institute survey released last month, 42% of U.S. respondents said they often or sometimes actively avoid the news. Of those, 49% said they did so because consuming news “had a negative effect on their mood.”

Other popular reasons, among all respondents across six continents, were too much news about politics and COVID (43%) and getting “worn out” by the amount of news (29%).

A study published in the academic journal Digital Journalism in 2022 found that in the U.S., “burn-out or exhaustion related to news consumption was mostly due to the political atmosphere after the presidential election in 2016.”

It added, more broadly, that “interviewees expressed the news being ‘too much,’ referring to the excess of negative (mood) the news was producing, feeling like it was more than they could handle – intolerable, even. Media’s tendency to focus on negative news seems to be one of the main factors that helps to explain news avoidance.”

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

News organizations obviously don’t want people tuning them out, but what to do about this?

One good suggestion is to focus on solutions to the problems that create bad news. Report on ideas and actions that have been shown to work, perhaps somewhere else in the world, or that at least offer some hope. Unfortunately, listening to decision makers deny common-sense solutions can be infuriating, as well. I, for instance, am a steadfast news avoider whenever Mitch McConnell begins to talk about mass shootings.

Some balancing of content is a good idea, too. That means looking for stories that can inspire and uplift. There are heroes in the world and they’re newsworthy. I used to scoff at newsrooms that formalize and label “good news” content because often the topic choices are unexceptional and boosterish. I’m less of a skeptic today.

One idea that the news media don’t need to consider: Downplaying the bad news. Yeah, I’m sick of all of it, too, but reality is reality. We can talk about the harm of sensationalizing, but resolving issues starts with awareness, attention and, yes, some degree of disgust. We don’t need to avoid that.

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.