Journalism as a Conversation

Friend and former colleague David Quigg e-mailed me after this Q&A post ran to tell me I was “dead wrong” ”way off the mark”* in my advice to a teenager about “creative non-fiction” journalism. I suggested he put together a counter-argument in a Tumblr post that I could mull and share with others here.

After reading it, I’m struck by how much we agree on the value of sophisticated reporting. It forms the backbone of so much of my favorite writing, including Orlean’s and Remnick’s (I’ve fawned over Remnick’s work a few times in this blog). 

And yet there are nuances and distinctions that still trouble me. They may simply be differences in terminology, but let me offer a couple of thoughts.

Journalists use the word “truth” to characterize their work. I’ve never been entirely comfortable with the arrogance of that term until I began to think of it the way Kovach and Rosenstiel (The Elements of Journalism) and others do: as functional or practical, not philosophical or absolute. So while we might philosophically disagree on whether a defendant is guilty of a crime, for instance, we might nonetheless agree on the fact that a jury found him guilty and report that. I teach students it’s kind of the difference between truth with a “little t” versus truth with a “capital t.”

Where I have a problem is when reporters convey as fact what is fundamentally an opinion or impression, even if that opinion is based on fact-gathering. For example, let’s say I’ve immersed myself in the life of an historical figure for a profile. I’ve conducted hundreds of interviews with people who know this person, friends and enemies alike. I’ve pored over thousands of documents. In my writing, I re-create a scene in which I extrapolate from my reporting a pivotal moment in the person’s life, even though I don’t actually have direct knowledge of that moment from any sources.

The question is: Is it kosher to convey that information as fact? I’d say say no. At the same time, if you tell me up-front that the scene is your best estimate at what really went down, based on intensive reporting, I’d be OK with what you did. In this case, transparency, one of the least understood or appreciated concepts in journalism, does the hard work of earning my trust. 

And make no mistake, perceived trust is everything in what we do. Factual accuracy and/or transparency forms the linchpin of perceived credibility. This turns up in every research study I’ve conducted. It also resonates with pretty much every experience I had as a professional journalist for nearly 17 years. Accuracy matters.

One final thought: Purely coincidentally, a few days ago I interviewed the head juror of the Pulitzer nominating committee for last year’s breaking news category. (I’m doing a research study on The Seattle Times’ win in that category for coverage of four slain Lakewood, Wash. deputies, specifically the paper’s social-media practices.) I wanted to know from the juror** whether the paper’s online practices helped or, god forbid, hurt the entry.

As it turned out, a big part of what impressed jurors was the fact that reporters weren’t making critical errors, despite the pace and breadth of their reporting. In a way, it warmed my heart because it confirmed what audiences told me every time I screwed something up in a story in my reporting days and continue to tell me in research studies: That getting the story right is everything.

To young people contemplating careers in journalism, I say you need to put a primacy on that because that’s what matters not only to most journalists but to their audiences. Regardless of the terminology you use to describe your enterprise, as long as factual accuracy and transparency are at the heart of it, I’m happy.

* Yep. He said “way off the mark,” not “dead wrong.” See how important accuracy is?

** More to come in a separate post on this interview with juror Felice Belman, editor of the Concord Monitor.