Why journalistic undertakings must be transparent
This week the Reynolds School of Journalism Web site offers an interesting example of simple journalistic decisions that can be read by people outside the decision-making process as freighted with symbolism and hidden agendas.
It’s a classic case of why journalistic enterprises need to be transparent – making internal decisions visible to others.
Our Web site dates back nearly a decade. Mostly it has been a brochure site – filled with information about the school (history, mission, courses, faculty, special events). Now we are beginning to use the Web site more journalistically – to show what students and faculty can do as journalists and to engage students (and faculty members) in discovering how to use the Web effectively as an interactive publishing platform.
So far this semester the Web site has featured stories about celebratory moments – alum Alicia Parlette’s presentation as the Robert Laxalt Distinguished Writer, Warren Lerude’s 25th anniversary as a faculty member and 50th anniversary of his arrival as a freshman, innovative courses that will be introduced next semester. Many stories have mixed photographic slide shows and audio recordings in addition to text and still photos.
Deidre Pike is our Web site’s managing editor, responsible for generating content. Deidre decided to add quick-hit profiles of our part-time faculty members. She initiated this series with a sketch of Frank Mullen of the Reno Gazette-Journal. Frank is an author, an award-winning investigative reporter and larger than life – big, talkative and a Chautauqua performer. In a word, he’s a character. Journalists can go weak in the knees when they encounter a character. The heavy lifting to make a profile interesting is much less heavy when the subject has a compelling personality.
So Deidre’s profile of Frank, posted here, is bright, light and a fun read. A grumpy press critic might harrumph that it is a bit of a valentine to its subject.
Here’s where things get more complicated.
Over the past year, Frank has produced a series of stories questioning how the university has treated animals on one of its research farms. The series, which has expanded into personnel issues and other topics, has generated considerable controversy about the university. Some of Frank’s critics allege that his reporting methods are controversial, too. Some say he shouldn’t be reporting on the university because he draws a paycheck from it as a part-time teacher. Some say he’s too invested in a gotcha story, emphasizing facts that support his thesis and de-emphasizing facts that support the university’s position.
Frank’s fans and critics alike probably would agree that he is the scourge of President John Lilley’s administration. Regardless of the merits of Frank’s series, critics of the president, including some quoted anonymously in the recent faculty morale report, say the president mishandled the public relations response to the bad press.
Amidst this controversy, we publish our sketch of Frank during President Lilley’s last week running the university’s day-to-day operations. (He will work on fund-raising and alumni relations until he leaves for his new job as Baylor University’s president Jan. 2.)
A coincidence, Deidre told me when I asked her about it the day before she posted her profile. I suggested the profile at least needed to address the controversy generated by and surrounding Frank’s series. Otherwise the controversy would be the elephant in the room that everyone sees but no one mentions. Deidre cheerfully agreed to ask Frank about it; the sketch includes his answers.
But to a skeptic, it’s easy to imagine that the journalism school is thumbing its nose at our departing president, siding with our part-time colleague in a continuing standoff, pitching him softball questions and addressing only one side of the story because our profile doesn’t interview his critics for the other side of the story.
So Deidre’s well-intentioned decision to spotlight part-time faculty members suddenly is the impetus for a series of important questions:
• Can a journalism school’s Web site be both a platform for journalism and for building relationships between the school and its constituents?
• Do pieces that celebrate the achievements of students and faculty always need to reference any controversies about the students or faculty members? If not always, how about sometimes – as in when a faculty member is enmeshed in an ongoing controversy?
• When journalists have discretion over when to publish – in the absence of a pressing news peg or other reason to publish by a date certain – how should they use that discretion? Would it have been better to publish the Frank Mullen profile sometime other than John Lilley’s last week?
• Should the j-school dean act as editor in chief of the Web site? Should I make suggestions (as I did) or take over the decision-making process (which I did not do) in cases that entail controversy? In a case like this, would the dean be perceived as acting as a journalist, or an educator, or an administrator/member of the president’s team? Would suggestions or changes be seen as legitimate editorial interventions (dean as editor) or incursions against First Amendment and academic freedoms (dean as administrator)?
I’m still thinking about my own answers to these questions.
What are your answers?
It’s a classic case of why journalistic enterprises need to be transparent – making internal decisions visible to others.
Our Web site dates back nearly a decade. Mostly it has been a brochure site – filled with information about the school (history, mission, courses, faculty, special events). Now we are beginning to use the Web site more journalistically – to show what students and faculty can do as journalists and to engage students (and faculty members) in discovering how to use the Web effectively as an interactive publishing platform.
So far this semester the Web site has featured stories about celebratory moments – alum Alicia Parlette’s presentation as the Robert Laxalt Distinguished Writer, Warren Lerude’s 25th anniversary as a faculty member and 50th anniversary of his arrival as a freshman, innovative courses that will be introduced next semester. Many stories have mixed photographic slide shows and audio recordings in addition to text and still photos.
Deidre Pike is our Web site’s managing editor, responsible for generating content. Deidre decided to add quick-hit profiles of our part-time faculty members. She initiated this series with a sketch of Frank Mullen of the Reno Gazette-Journal. Frank is an author, an award-winning investigative reporter and larger than life – big, talkative and a Chautauqua performer. In a word, he’s a character. Journalists can go weak in the knees when they encounter a character. The heavy lifting to make a profile interesting is much less heavy when the subject has a compelling personality.
So Deidre’s profile of Frank, posted here, is bright, light and a fun read. A grumpy press critic might harrumph that it is a bit of a valentine to its subject.
Here’s where things get more complicated.
Over the past year, Frank has produced a series of stories questioning how the university has treated animals on one of its research farms. The series, which has expanded into personnel issues and other topics, has generated considerable controversy about the university. Some of Frank’s critics allege that his reporting methods are controversial, too. Some say he shouldn’t be reporting on the university because he draws a paycheck from it as a part-time teacher. Some say he’s too invested in a gotcha story, emphasizing facts that support his thesis and de-emphasizing facts that support the university’s position.
Frank’s fans and critics alike probably would agree that he is the scourge of President John Lilley’s administration. Regardless of the merits of Frank’s series, critics of the president, including some quoted anonymously in the recent faculty morale report, say the president mishandled the public relations response to the bad press.
Amidst this controversy, we publish our sketch of Frank during President Lilley’s last week running the university’s day-to-day operations. (He will work on fund-raising and alumni relations until he leaves for his new job as Baylor University’s president Jan. 2.)
A coincidence, Deidre told me when I asked her about it the day before she posted her profile. I suggested the profile at least needed to address the controversy generated by and surrounding Frank’s series. Otherwise the controversy would be the elephant in the room that everyone sees but no one mentions. Deidre cheerfully agreed to ask Frank about it; the sketch includes his answers.
But to a skeptic, it’s easy to imagine that the journalism school is thumbing its nose at our departing president, siding with our part-time colleague in a continuing standoff, pitching him softball questions and addressing only one side of the story because our profile doesn’t interview his critics for the other side of the story.
So Deidre’s well-intentioned decision to spotlight part-time faculty members suddenly is the impetus for a series of important questions:
• Can a journalism school’s Web site be both a platform for journalism and for building relationships between the school and its constituents?
• Do pieces that celebrate the achievements of students and faculty always need to reference any controversies about the students or faculty members? If not always, how about sometimes – as in when a faculty member is enmeshed in an ongoing controversy?
• When journalists have discretion over when to publish – in the absence of a pressing news peg or other reason to publish by a date certain – how should they use that discretion? Would it have been better to publish the Frank Mullen profile sometime other than John Lilley’s last week?
• Should the j-school dean act as editor in chief of the Web site? Should I make suggestions (as I did) or take over the decision-making process (which I did not do) in cases that entail controversy? In a case like this, would the dean be perceived as acting as a journalist, or an educator, or an administrator/member of the president’s team? Would suggestions or changes be seen as legitimate editorial interventions (dean as editor) or incursions against First Amendment and academic freedoms (dean as administrator)?
I’m still thinking about my own answers to these questions.
What are your answers?
