The Six Iron Laws of the Media

FRED REED IS AN ACQUIRED TASTE if you don't naturally one man's truth served cold. One of his latest dishes is An Oozing Of Gray Sludge, in which he gives us six iron truths about the media.

Over the years I've noticed several things. First, in print publications, most reporters aren't very smart. A few are very bright, but probably through a mistake in hiring. (The prestigious papers are exceptions, hiring Ivy League snots of the sort who viscerally dislike soldiers, cops, rural people, guns, etc.) Reporting requires assertiveness and willingness to deal with tedious material under pressure of deadlines. These qualities seldom come bundled with inquiring intelligence. Consequently reporters (again with the occasional exception) lack curiosity, and don't read in their fields.

The results are reasonably obvious to all of us, no? Is it not true that when you know a field, those writing about it clearly don't?

Second, they are painfully politically correct, frightened of making a slip. Everyone in the racket knows exactly what you can't say and what you have to say. Thus what reporters know, they don't say; and what they say, they don't believe. Writers are afraid of being fired; newspapers are afraid of their readers and, very important, of their advertisers. Editors are terrified of blacks, Jews, Hispanics, homosexuals, and women.

Third, the media are controlled, controlled, controlled. It is easy not to notice just how controlled. For example, people are interested in crime and the police. Ever see a television station put a cop on camera and let him talk for half an hour about what it's really like out there? Never happen. An honest cop couldn't manage three sentences without saying something perfectly true but forbidden.

Fourth, to understand journalism, you have to understand that, once you have a decent beat, it's a ticket to ride. It's fun. You get to go where others don't, do things other people only dream about. You have power. You have privilege. The paper buys you tickets and hotels for the Paris Air Show; you go to exotic wars, ride in fighter planes. Important people who think you are an idiot are nice to you because they are afraid of you. And if you don't ruffle feathers, you keep both power and privilege. So the easy thing is to write what you are supposed to write and have a splendid time.

Fifth, reflect that because of law, convention, and political fear papers have to hire "diverse" newsrooms. This exercises a powerful flattening effect on the news. For practical purposes it is not possible to express opinions, or to cover stories, that offend a sizable group on the floor of the newsroom. If your editor is female, or the guy at the next desk black, or gay, you find it very hard to write anything that these groups won't like. After all, you have to come to work every day. More diversity in the newsroom means less diversity in the news.

Finally, whoever owns the paper calls the tune. It isn't always done obviously. You don't get a telephone call from the publisher, or whoever in New York owns your paper, saying, "Yes, it is I. The Big Boy. God. Here's what I want you to write." But you know the paper's line, its taboos. You abide by them or you walk. Given that the media are owned by small numbers of people who believe the same things, the tune that is called seldom varies.

True Wit is Nature to Advantage drest,
What oft was Thought, but ne'er so well Exprest.
-- Pope, An Essay on Criticism

Posted by Vanderleun at May 9, 2004 4:56 PM