Can books fill the
news media’s gaps? 10/1/2007
The
senseless practice of media mobbing - 9/17/2007
Casualties of the Larry
Craig affair - 9/3/2007
My beef with
the media - 8/20/2007
Curbing
Murdoch - 8/6/2007
A little
story, easily overlooked - 7/23/2007
Can trickery
by reporters be right? - 7/9/2007
Journalism’s
coming war on privacy - 6/25/2007
All the news
that fits the plan - 6/11/2007
The new
world order comes to news - 5/28/2007
An ironic
curtain-raiser as Murdoch goes for the gold - 5/14/2007
On holding
back ugly realities - 4/30/2007
Why the
silence from our northern neighbor matters - 4/16/2007
The murky
world of conflicts of interest - 4/2/2007
‘If it’s OK
with you, I’m going to spoil your day…’ - 3/19/2007
When good
stories come from bad sources - 3/5/2007
The
vanishing art of standing firm - 2/19/2007
Flying high
with the Money Honey - 2/5/2007
Taking out
Saddam - 1/22/2007
The
insidious corruption of beats - 1/8/2007
2006
Columns
2005 Columns
2004 Columns
2003 Columns
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Keeping
investigative journalism alive
By Edward Wasserman
Week of
October 29, 2007
Surely it’s good news when a super-rich couple pledges $10 million a
year to found a crack team of investigative journalists whose mission
will be to dig out the best stories they can find.
After all, elsewhere in the news media budgets are bled white to slake
the thirst of Wall Street predators, seasoned reporters are coaxed to
pasture so their pay can be banked, out-of-town bureaus are shuttered,
and editorial energy is redirected onto online initiatives to engage and
cultivate twitchy market segments that shrug at boring old tales of
exploitation, injustice and corruption.
When today’s chieftains of the news business consider its future,
they’re more likely to drool over Facebook, the social networking
sensation, than to draw inspiration from the great reporting of the
past.
So who’s going to pay journalists to do the grimy, old-line work of
holding the rich and powerful accountable?
Enter Herbert Sandler, a Northern California financial services
billionaire, and his wife Marion. The outfit they’re funding, Pro
Publica, is to be a New York-based reporting powerhouse of 24
investigative journalists led by Paul Steiger, for 16 years managing
editor of the Wall Street Journal and a highly respected guy.
Pro Publica’s staff will work on the elusive, important, long-range
stories that few news organizations have the stomach or money to take
on. Once the stories are done, they’ll be offered to newspapers and
broadcasters or posted on Pro Publica’s own web site so the public can
read them.
This is good, bold stuff. Yet the plan does have flaws, some of them
serious.
First, Pro Publica’s own ambitions are a problem. Its backers make it
plain they’re in the business of hunting big game, “stories with
significant potential for major impact.” In finding outlets for the
stories, they’ll “likely be offered exclusively to a traditional news
organization, free of charge, for publication or broadcast … with an eye
toward maximizing the impact of each article.”
Together, as the Chicago Reader’s Michael Miner wrote in one of the few
criticisms of the plan, these elements suggest that Pro Publica will
proffer top-notch journalism to big, powerful news organizations, the
ones that need it the least.
Second, is it even true that we have insufficient coverage of tough,
front-burner national stories from the high-impact media Pro Publica
wants to feed? I wonder. With the Bush administration leaking like an
overripe melon, and a torrent of first-rate books about high-level
deception and stupidity, the real problem may not be what’s out there
in newspapers, magazines and online, from domestic and foreign sources
it’s what the public can be induced to pay attention to.
Breaking stories is one thing; setting the public’s agenda is quite
another.
Third, the implication of the plan is that the stories that truly matter
are national. Many are. But many more aren’t. The isolated and
beleaguered reporters who are breaking their picks hacking away at local
zoning scandals, crooked landlords, corrupt courts and local
environmental disgraces fall beneath Pro Publica’s gaze.
Unfortunately, the Pro Publica model suggests that if these people want
to make their mark they need to pack up and head to Manhattan, which
already has the richest concentration of journalistic talent on earth.
This country’s journalism profession is already being hollowed out, and
it’s hard to see how that process won’t be aggravated by creating an
elite squad of ace reporters composed mainly of top talents who can
readily find work elsewhere many of them drawn from places where the
need for their unique skills is acute.
A culture of accountability, to be truly national, needs to be built in
the provinces as well. If the Sandlers are thinking about shedding
another $10 million, they might consider bringing aboard a second kernel
of supervising editors of the integrity and skill of Steiger and his
colleagues. Then they should use most of the money to seed newsrooms
throughout the country with endowed investigative positions, whose
occupants would be advised by these editors and whose sleuthing would be
focused on the small-bore social and political outrages that affect
people most directly and most insidiously.
So let’s welcome Pro Publica, and acknowledge the role that philanthropy
can play in funding the indispensable coverage that market incentives
cannot alone guarantee. But let’s also hope this is the first step, not
the last.
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