Journalists: If your mother says she loves you, go check it out (and then be damned sure it’s true)

As the Russian proverb says, “Trust, but verify.”

The long-held adage of journalists saying, “If your mother says she loves you, go check it out,” needs a little more updating these days, as it seems like NOTHING is as real as it seems. Thanks in large part to corner-cutting, scam-baiting and general laziness, we’re finding a lot of cases in which it never hurts to make absolutely sure you are sure. Here are a couple examples:

AT THIS POINT, JUST ASK THE MAGIC 8-BALL: A few months back, we highlighted Rob Waugh’s story about journalists being duped by AI “experts” who churned out content that ranged from generic to highly suspect. Waugh’s latest piece found that journalists who are using supposedly “legitimate” systems to connect with sources are also now at the mercy of AI spamming, all while paying for the privilege of getting screwed:

A PR agency is selling an AI tool that automatically answers pitches from journalists on services such as ResponseSource, HARO and Qwoted.

The AI tool, called Synapse (not be confused with PR pitching platform Synapse Media), “reads” questions sent for for expert comment by journalists via the services, then analyses sources such as books, podcasts and reports per query and uses AI to draft email responses.

Journalist-request services such as HARO charge a fee for connecting PR agencies with journalists. PRs can send out story pitches to journalists and also get access to requests for expert comment.

<SNIP>

The makers of Synapse, Lithuania-based PR agency Wellstone PR, boast that it has a 7-8% acceptance rate, and that used by a human “editor”, it can answer around 20 pitches per hour with one human PR person able to do the work of five.T

The company brags in its pitch to potential clients that it will provide them with fictional content that sounds so much like the real thing, journalists won’t know the difference. I don’t know if it bothers me more that a) it would appear journalists are getting inept/lazy enough not to notice that they’re being fed total bullpucky or b) that the PR professionals are writing such average, generic stuff so often that journalists can’t distinguish it from whatever garbage an AI can produce.

The cost for this service is a one-time fee of $2,500. The only saving grace is that they apparently haven’t sold this to anyone. Yet.

The PR experts quoted in Waugh’s piece are clearly not thrilled by this breach of trust.

Andy Smith, founder of Sourcee, which aims to offer credible, video-checked experts, says that using AI tools in this way erodes trust.

Smith said: “When journalists post a journo request, there’s an implicit level of trust in the person replying. They’re hoping to hear from real people with genuine insights, experiences, and expertise that can bring their story to life.

“They certainly don’t want to receive an automated, AI-generated reply… if that’s what they were after, they could’ve just used ChatGPT themselves.

One thing that has me rethinking my “stop using these stupid “OK-Cupid-For-Quotes” sites” was a point that Smith made about how a good expert pool, like the one he says he’s built, is meant to broaden the reach of journalists. That can prevent them from only reaching out to familiar contacts and ending up with the “usual suspects” in every story. Still, if I had to pick between usual humans and a random lottery of AI word salad, I’ll stick with my boring peeps, thanks.

WSJ PLUS AI EQUALS WTF: If Cliff Behnke isn’t spinning in his grave over this situation, it’s only because he’s actively crawling out of it to come smack the shit out of somebody right now:

A story about development plans for a vacant downtown block that appeared on the front page of the Sunday, July 13, issue of the Wisconsin State Journal was removed Wednesday from the Madison daily newspaper’s website before being replaced by a “re-reported” story Thursday afternoon.

An editor’s note on the re-reported story states that the original “contained incorrect information and quotes that were created by an unauthorized use of AI, which does not adhere to the Wisconsin State Journal’s editorial or ethical standards.”

The story topic itself, both in what I can find of the original and the reboot, is a simple, boring tick-tock story about a development project, in which the material for the proposals are all easily accessible. This wasn’t like the reporter needed whatever the hell Tom Cruise is using in the latest “Mission Impossible” movie to create a miracle out of thin air.

It’s not quite clear what’s more terrifying: That a reporter decided to cut a corner on something this vanilla and didn’t bother to make sure on at least a few basic facts or that the editorial process didn’t catch something that was so wrong:

One section about “The Grove,” a proposal from Neutral, a Madison real estate development firm, outlined plans for a “food hall prioritizing minority-owned vendors” and a “community advisory board” that would shape the development’s public life. Neither of those features, nor the name “The Grove,” appear in Neutral’s proposal linked from a city press release listing the firms that responded to its RFP.

“It’s all wrong,” says Daniel Glaessl, Neutral’s chief product officer. No reporter had contacted the firm about the project before Isthmus reached out on Thursday afternoon, he says.

The Synapse people in the story above are like, “Hey, AI will write all your stuff, but don’t worry! The editor will be there to ‘create enough friction’ to prevent anything terrible from getting into the public sphere.” I’m having even bigger doubts about that concept now, especially since I know the folks involved at the WSJ and I have always respected and admired them. It always hurts a little more when it happens where you live.

And finally…

FOUL BALLS: It’s not a stretch to say that the sports memorabilia world is a multi-billion-dollar industry, in which athletes get paid exorbitant amounts of money for scrawling their names across all manner of items. What makes an athlete’s autograph worth the big bucks is a confluence of the awesomeness of the athlete and the rarity of their willingness to sign items. The more people want an athlete’s signature and the fewer of them exist, the more likely there will be fraud involved at some level.

In the 1990s, the FBI dug into the world of fraudulent autographs with “Operation Bullpen,” a multi-year investigation that took down a series of forgers who made a living faking the signatures of Joe DiMaggio, Mickey Mantle, Mark McGwire and others. In response, the major sports leagues and the preeminent autograph certification houses began using holograms, certificates, registration numbers and QR codes to assure buyers that the autographs they owned were, in fact, real.

It didn’t work as well as they had hoped:

Brett Lemieux, a 45-year-old resident of Westfield, Indiana, was the founder of sports memorabilia site Mister ManCave, which claimed to have sold millions of counterfeit items with net profits exceeding $350 million, and had “the largest framed jersey inventory on the web.”

Lemieux made the claims in a now-deleted Facebook post on the “Autographs 101” group Wednesday, saying the money was “too good” to pass up and that he wanted to stop the fraud, which had been going on for the better part of two decades.

Part of Lemieux’s post, bragging about his fraudulent creation of autographs and the holograms of multiple companies meant to prevent such fraud.

Over the past week, I’ve seen a ton of people submitting their Shohei Otani, Mike Trout, Derek Jeter and other autographs to online authentication groups, only to find that the balls, bats and photos are fakes. Many of these items have one, if not more, authentic-looking holograms, to boot.

I know this seems far afield for journalists, but it really emphasizes an important point about how and why fraud persists in our space as much as it does everywhere else: If there’s money to be made in an easy way, people without scruples are going to take advantage of the situation.

That means we have to all be extra cautious about what we are willing to accept at face value and what we are willing to walk away from if the situation doesn’t feel right. It’s especially true when we really want something to work out, like getting that crucial source or making that tight deadline.

I’ve often said that paranoia is my best friend. Feel free to make it yours as well.

A Mob Shakedown, Chump Change or An Affront to The Foundations of The Country: Framing Paramount’s $16M Settlement With President Trump

This interview, which literally and figuratively did absolutely nothing to the outcome of the 2024 presidential election, was at the core of a multi-billion-dollar lawsuit President Donald Trump filed against “60 Minutes.”

THE LEAD: Paramount agreed late Tuesday to pay $16 million to settle President Donald Trump’s lawsuit over the editing of a Kamala Harris interview on “60 Minutes” that Trump deemed fraudulent and deceptive.

Trump sued Paramount in November for $10 billion, claiming the editing of the interview created “partisan and unlawful acts of election and voter interference” intended to “mislead the public and attempt to tip the scales” of the 2024 election toward Harris.

Experts had long noted that the suit was frivolous and that Trump had a better shot of quarterbacking the Cleveland Browns to a Super Bowl title this year than he did of winning this case. Still, the parent company of “60 Minutes” took the settlement route, as a corporate sale of several billion dollars seemed to be at risk if it didn’t:

Many lawyers had dismissed Mr. Trump’s lawsuit as baseless and believed that CBS would have ultimately prevailed in court, in part because the network did not report anything factually inaccurate, and the First Amendment gives publishers wide leeway to determine how to present information.

But Shari Redstone, the chair and controlling shareholder of Paramount, told her board that she favored exploring a settlement with Mr. Trump. Some executives at the company viewed the president’s lawsuit as a potential hurdle to completing a multibillion-dollar sale of the company to the Hollywood studio Skydance, which requires the Trump administration’s approval.

After weeks of negotiations with a mediator, lawyers for Paramount and Mr. Trump worked through the weekend to reach a deal ahead of a court deadline that would have required both sides to begin producing internal documents for discovery, according to two people familiar with the negotiations.

FRAMING THE OUTCOME: We talked about Framing Theory a few months back, but for a brief recap, the idea is that how the media chooses to focus on an issue can shape how people in general will look at that issue. In this case, here are three I’ve seen pop up:

The Mob Shakedown: In most good gangster movies and TV shows, a scene emerges that showcases how to threaten someone without actually threatening them. It’s a pure demonstration of the power the “Don,” the “boss” or the “enforcer” has: Force someone to do something they don’t want to do out of pure fear of what otherwise might happen.

The shakedown scene usually starts with the gangster offering “friendship” or “protection” for a business owner, explaining that the world is a dangerous place and that a lot of bad things can happen. So, for a small percentage of the owner’s finances, this gangster will keep those bad things at bay.

If the owner protests, the gangster tends to get a little more specific while still being vague, offering “God forbid” scenarios like how a mysterious fire could burn the business to the ground or how a random act of violence could lead to the owner being hospitalized for serious injuries. However, fortunately, a payment to this “ambassador of goodwill” can pretty much eliminate those possibilities:

(This was the best “shakedown” scene I could find from any TV show or movie that a) didn’t use enough F-bombs to destroy an underground nuclear bunker, b) use other pejorative language regarding someone’s race, gender, ethnicity, sexual orientation or pet preference and c) didn’t actually use the violence that was suggested earlier in the clip. Still, it’s not pure enough for totally virgin ears, so watch at your discretion.)

In the Paramount case, the company had a multi-billion-dollar deal waiting in the wings, but it needed “the Don’s” blessing to go through and a lot of terrible things can happen to a deal if, God forbid, the FCC decided to look reeeeeeealllly closely at it. I mean, who knows what might happen to all that money? If Paramount lost that deal just because of a little misunderstanding it could make right with this “60 Minutes” thing? Hey… I’m just saying…

Of course, the Trump administration definitely wasn’t doing that:

Brendan Carr, the chairman of the Federal Communications Commission, has said the president’s lawsuit against Paramount was not linked to the F.C.C.’s review of the company’s merger with Skydance. Paramount has also said the two issues were unrelated.

Right. And the business owner got that black eye and broken arm after “accidentally” falling down a flight of stairs before coming to the conclusion that protection money is a small price to pay for proper piece of mind.

Chump Change: If you look at some of the more successful campaigns to get money out of people, they tend to be the ones that appear to be the least taxing or consequential. Case in point, each year, my alma mater (or maters) send me a pledge card, asking for a “gift” of between a few hundred and a few thousand dollars. Those always go right in the trash without a second thought.

That said, I have a hard time recalling the last time I refused to “round up” at the grocery store, the hardware store or anywhere else for whatever charity the business was repping at the time. It’s like, “Hell, I’m already $132.47 into the Kroeger Family at this point. What’s another 53 cents for a good cause?”

In addition, I’ve seen people drop a few coins in a parking lot and refuse to pick them up, folks at rummage sales drop the “and XX cents” on a customer’s total and other similar maneuvers that basically just round off a relatively insignificant amount of cash.

Thus, the concept of “chump change.”

I personally have a hard time thinking about $16 million as “chump change,” but everything in life is relative, as noted in this clip from “The Social Network:”

I suppose if I’m looking at it from the perspective of a multi-billion-dollar company that wants to make several billion dollars on a deal, giving up $16 million isn’t a lot to make things happen. I also suppose that if a collections company told me I owed $1,000 to a creditor, but I could pay it off today for $1.60, I’d probably avoid the argument and fork over the cash. (Trust me on this one: The comparative math is solid.)

To Paramount, this is the cost of doing business. It’s rounding up at the register to move things along. It’s chump change.

An Affront to The Foundations of The Country: After the news broke about the Paramount capitulation, it might have felt like time stood still for a few minutes. That’s probably because when Edward R. Murrow, Katherine Graham, Walter Cronkite, Ben Bradlee and David Brinkley (among other journalists) started simultaneously started spinning in their graves, the Earth found itself dealing with that “Superman The Movie” trick:

We’ve discussed SLAPP suits here before, where people with virtually no case whatsoever sue for a ton of money to get people to back off. In many of those cases, the defendants lack the sufficient means to truly stand their ground and fight back on behalf of truth, justice and the American way, so they knuckle under.

In this situation, Paramount had the funds, the legal might and the legal precedents to stand up for all the mom and pop media operations (whatever of those are left) and tell the president where to put his suit. Paramount also had the opportunity to stand up for the free press and free speech rights that have defined the country for generations.

It’s something Graham and Bradlee did before when a president came at them. It’s something Murrow did in a time in which a demagogue rattled this country to its core. It’s something so many other journalists and journalism operations have done in big and small ways to reassure us all that our rights are not a “when it’s convenient to people in power” thing.

But a funny thing happened on the way to our current predicament. News outlets are now part of larger conglomerates with larger concerns. TV news always lost money, relative to other programming, but it was seen as part of the deal: You give us quality news, we let you use the public airwaves. Newspapers use to make money and hold sway over larger groups of people. Furthermore, they weren’t part of a collective that also did entertainment programming, sold time shares, controlled real estate and answered to shareholders. Their concern was doing the news well and defending their right to do it.

For Paramount, “60 Minutes” is a “property” of the company, just like all the other stuff they put on TV. If an episode of “School Spirits” pissed off enough people to prevent a multi-billion-dollar deal from happening, they’d kill it or edit it or pay off someone, too. Cost of doing business. That’s the company’s view. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one.

However, when one company lets the powerful dictate the news based on threats like this suit, it undermines the strength of those First Amendment rights for everyone else.

Goodnight, Cliff Behnke. There will never be another one like you.

I bogarted this photo of Cliff from the obit. I’d argue “fair use,” but I probably wouldn’t argue it with Cliff.

Cliff Behnke, the former managing editor of the Wisconsin State Journal and generational journalist, died Sunday in Madison at the age of 80.

The irony of this piece is that it’s impossible to explain Cliff without resorting to cliches, a writing failure the man himself disdained.

Cliff despised lazy writing and wasn’t above telling writers how much redundancies, passive voice and unneeded descriptors displeased him. However, if there is one thing anyone who worked under him knew he hated most, it was cliches, so much so that the concept led his obituary this week:

Spring never sprung under Cliff Behnke’s watch.

“White stuff” didn’t fall in winter, and no reporter ever dared refer to Thanksgiving as “Turkey Day.”

Behnke was a stickler for detail and standards during his four-decade career at the Wisconsin State Journal.

(I managed to pull off a minor miracle once in a weather story when I used the phrase “a white, wintery mix” and Cliff never said a word.)

The cliches really did tell the tale of Cliff, as everyone in Barry Adams’ fantastic obituary seemed to use one now that Cliff could no longer stop them.

He was an “old-school editor,” in that he prized big-picture accuracy, clarity and value while simultaneously picking at the details that would rob a piece of any of those things. He was “no nonsense” in that staffers knew him to be serious and direct, focused and fair as he kept the newsroom moving forward. He was a “newspaperman in the best sense,” spending far more time in his college newsroom than his classes and helping to shepherd the state’s official newspaper throughout the salad days of print journalism.

In reading Cliff’s obituary, one fact discombobulated me: His age. I was in my early 20s during the three years I spent working the night desk at the State Journal. That would have put Cliff in his early 50s back then, which is where I find myself now. I can’t square those numbers, given that I have neither the skills, the seriousness or the stature that Cliff had at this age, never mind how he terrified staffers in a way that is almost impossible to explain.

I feared Cliff, as did a number of the folks quoted in Adams’ piece, but not in the cliche way usually associated with “old school” editors. He never yelled at me, nor did he have a large physical presence that had me afraid of violence. He didn’t break out a string of colorful curse words when dressing me down.

(Cliff was always on the lookout for stray curses making it into the paper. I remember him calling out a sports story that contained a quote like, “We played a hell of a game.” Cliff’s restrictions on cussing in print would make a 1950s all-girls boarding school look like a biker bar. It took at least three phone calls for us to run a quote in one of my stories about a riot with the quote “F— the pigs!” in it. And, yes, that was WITH the dashes.)

Listening to Cliff’s assessment of my screw ups was like watching a ninja throwing razor blades at me. It was just slice, slice, slice until I fell into 1,000 pieces. It could be about something big or about something small, but I still remember (and refer to) a number of them.

In one case, it was a redundancy. I was writing a photo caption about a model train railroad show when I felt the presence of Cliff lurking behind me. He began simply enough:

“Can you imagine if there were 88 model railroad layouts that were EXACTLY the same?” he asked.

“Huh?” I replied, unsure as to if I was having an out-of-body experience because Cliff was talking to me.

“Do you think it would be possible for a group of people to build 88 IDENTICAL model railroad layouts?” he said in that calm, metered voice of his.

“Uh… No?”

“Right. So why are you telling me that there are 88 DIFFERENT model railroad layouts in this cutline? Of course they’re different. That’s redundant.”

He then disappeared almost as quickly as he showed up and I still haven’t forgotten that lesson.

I also never forgot the time I should have been fired for screwing up a brief, in which I reported that a guy was dead when he wasn’t.

It wasn’t bad enough that I screwed it up, but then the local radio stations did their “rip and read” journalism on the air, letting EVERYONE know the guy was dead when he wasn’t. Our competing paper also used to love to crib our stories and then claim they had an “unnamed source” that confirmed the info, so those folks also amplified the story. It turns out everyone was wrong because I was wrong.

The man’s wife was getting condolence calls from people who saw or heard the “news” and she freaked out that the news people knew about his death before she did. After a complete clustermess of a situation, I got called into Cliff’s office for what I assumed would be the end of my journalism career.

After slowly and calmly walking me through every stupid thing I had done and every way a reasonably competent biped could have avoided that stupidity, he told me that the woman wasn’t going to sue us, but she had several demands. Aside from a correction for the paper, I had to write a letter apologizing to the man’s children for screwing up and then I had to hand-deliver it to his wife and talk to her for as long as she wanted.

“You need to go to the hospital at 10 a.m.,” Cliff said. “You will not justify your mistake. You will not discuss your feelings. If anything comes out of your mouth other than, ‘Yes, ma’am,’ ‘No, ma’am’ or “I’m sorry, ma’am.’ You are gone. Do you have any questions?”

I was both young and stupid enough to have one: “Yeah. Why don’t you just fire me now instead?”

His response was perfectly Cliff: “I honestly don’t know, so get out of my office before I figure it out.”

What he taught me that day was responsibility for my actions, the importance of paranoia-level accuracy and that I needed to tough out this painful lesson if I was ever going to be much of anything in this world. As another editor explained to me when I said I should just quit, “How are you ever going to teach a student to do something tough if you won’t do it yourself?”

I didn’t work for Cliff as long as many other people did, nor did I spend much time in contact with him during my time at the paper. In reading some of the online tributes to him, he was both everything his obit said and so much more. He was generous with his time to Daily Cardinal kids, serving on the board and kindly mentoring staffers as they gained their legs in journalism. He was a giving person to friends and family who knew him less as a mythological editor and more as a human being.

What I can say is that there will never be another editor like Cliff, as the confluence of events that made him could not exist today. Nobody is going to spend four decades in journalism anymore, least of all in one state or at one publication. That means we won’t have someone like Cliff who can capture the culture and soul of the audience the media outlet serves. It also means no one will have a firm grasp on all the details that add clarity to local stories, such as if Devil’s Lake gets an apostrophe or where the East Side stops and Downtown starts. He was like Google in a shirt and tie.

Accuracy, the driving force behind Cliff’s work at the State Journal, now seems to be as antiquated as the term “newspaperman,” with people caring more about being first, getting views and making sure “their side” is winning. In the days of newspapers, mistakes were permanent and you couldn’t undo your failures. That fact helped Cliff drive the rest of us to obsess over being right. As much as I still obsess, I know that if someone finds a mistake in this thing, two quick clicks and it’s like the error never happened. As nice as it is to be able to erase public errors, it does make for some lazy journalism.

Above all else, I do wonder how this generation would take to Cliff’s brand of leadership, as to cause fear these days is hate crime and to criticize is a soul-crushing micro-aggression. I wonder how Cliff would work with people who have been known to bring a parent with them on a job interview. Not every 22-year-old who rolls off the college assembly line these days is the stereotype of an entitled snowflake, but I’ve seen a significant crop of emotional hemophiliacs who complain about everything from making deadlines to not getting enough praise for things they’re just supposed to do. The amazing thing about working for Cliff was that we knew he was reserved with his praise and generous with his critiques. That’s why his praise really meant something, unlike the vast sums of participation trophies that line the bookshelves of “kids these days.”

What I do know is that if anyone could have found a way to make all of this work well and get the best out of people in this current environment, it would have been Cliff. He just wouldn’t quit until he did.

How AI “expert sources” have duped journalists and four tips on how to avoid being the next victim

Meet Elizabeth Hubbell, a 25-year-old skin-care expert who is willing to be a great source for your next story on anything makeup or skin-care related. She’s actually completely fabricated. Her picture came from an AI generation site and her name is a combination of my car (Betsy) and a baseball player whose card I had laying around (Carl Hubbell). Careful. It’s dangerous out there…

When it comes to doing interviews, I always tell students they need to do them in person. In response, they often look at me like I’m asking them to use a teletype machine or some semaphore flags. It’s easier, faster and more convenient for both parties if they can do a text, a chat or an email interview, the students say.

I argue that the face-to-face interview allows for a deeper connection for profile and feature pieces. This approach also can prevent sources in news stories from weaseling out of answers they could otherwise work through via several drafts of an email. Plus, if I spend some time in the source’s environment, I can probably find a personal effect that could give us something to talk about, like a family photo, a kid’s drawing or a sports item. At the very least, it’ll help with scene setting.

Apparently, there’s another good reason for my approach these days: Your easy-to-access, extremely helpful, expert source might be AI:

Since the launch of ChatGPT in 2022, anyone can generate comment, on any subject, in an instant.

It is a technology that appears to have fuelled a rise in expert commentators who have appeared widely in national newspapers but who are either not real, not what they seem to be or at the very least have CVs which do not justify their wide exposure in major newsbrands.

The rise in dubious commentators has been fuelled by companies that charge the PR industry in order to share quotes via email with journalists who have submitted requests for comment.

Journalist Rob Waugh found that in a number of cases, digital outlets were mass-generating content from these supposed experts, giving everyone from news journalists to PR practitioners the exact the quote or information they needed on a wide array of topics. However, when challenged to engage more deeply regarding who they are or what they have done in life, the “sources” suddenly had difficulty:

She has been quoted in Fortune talking about “loud budgeting” and by Business.com talking about the best countries in which to obtain a business education (both sites are based in the US).

A profile on Academized describes her as a “biochemist and science educator”. The same byline picture also crops up on a publisher called Leaddev, for someone called Sara Sparrow. Rebecca Leigh has written for DrBicuspid.com about how to write a business plan for your dental practice where she is described as a writer for Management Essay and Lija Help (two online writing services).

When challenged via email to do something that would be difficult to do with AI image-generating software (send an image of herself with her hand in front of her face) or prove that she was an environment expert, Rebecca stopped communicating.

One AI source, “Barbara Santini,” was particularly prolific in the volume and array of topics she could cover for journalists. Waugh found this roster of publications that had included Santini quotes:

She has been quoted in The Guardian talking about the benefits of walking (paid content), in Newsweek talking about white lies, Marie Claire talking about the meaning of money, the Daily Mirror talking about the benefits of sleeping with your dog, in The Sun talking about sexual positions, Pop Sugar talking about astrology, and Mail Online talking about how often to change your pillow.

Santini was recently quoted in a BBC article examining the lifelike responses of AI to Rorschach tests used by some psychologists saying: “If an AI’s response resembles a human’s, it’s not because it sees the same thing but it’s because its training data mirrors our collective visual culture.”

Despite her ability to be all knowing and wise, Santini apparently couldn’t receive phone calls, a relatively easy giveaway that the “person” on the other end is AI. Waugh also found other examples of journalists who were getting taken for a ride by an AI source, including one case where the non-human pitched a sob story about breast cancer survival:

“Seeing my scarred chest in the mirror was a constant reminder of what I had lost,” Kimberly Shaw, 30, told me in an emotional email.

She had contacted me through Help a Reporter Out, a service used by journalists to find sources. I cover skincare and had been using the site to find people for a story about concealing acne scars with tattoos.

<SNIP>

Shaw’s experience may not have been relevant to my acne story, but it tapped into the same feelings of empowerment and control I wanted to explore. Thinking she could inspire a powerful new piece, I emailed her back.

But after days of back-and-forth conversations, something in Shaw’s emails began to feel a little off. After idly wondering to my boyfriend whether she could be a fake, he suggested that I run the emails through a text checker for artificial intelligence.

The result was unequivocal: Shaw’s emails had been machine-generated. I’d been interviewing an AI the entire time.

As a result of Waugh’s story, a number of these information clearinghouses have tried to cull their ranks of AI “experts” while the deceived publications have retooled or removed the stories with fake people in them. Although the founder of one of these “expert mills” blamed much of the situation on “lazy journalists,” he kind of gave up the game a bit when it came to explaining why these platforms don’t prevent the frauds from gaining access in the first place:

Darryl Willcox, who founded ResponseSource in 1997 and sold it in 2018, says that the simplicity and speed of platforms like ResponseSource is key to their appeal and that attempts to add authentication risk slowing down the system.

Willcox said: “The other factor which complicates things a little bit is that these platforms are quite an open system. Once a journalist makes a request they can be forwarded around organisations, and sometimes between them, and often PR agencies are acting for multiple parties, and they will be forwarded onto their many clients.”

In other words, “If we slowed down to make sure things were accurate, we wouldn’t be as appealing as we want to be.” Eeesh.

So what can you to to avoid quoting a fake person? The overarching theme is basically, “Don’t be a lazy journalist,” but here are a few more specific tips:

TRUST, BUT VERIFY: The old Russian proverb really comes into play here and for good reason. I often say that paranoia is my best friend and has kept me out of a ton of problems. To that larger point, not only did I click on every link I could find in Waugh’s story, I also Googled the hell out of Waugh himself. Why? I imagined that it would be the most epic “Punk’d” moment on Earth if the media world was flocking to this story about AI screwing with journalists, only to find out that Rob Waugh was also an AI fake. I found LinkedIn, X, Bluesky, media staff pages and at least a dozen photos. I wouldn’t bet the house on the fact he’s real, but I’d probably bet the lawn tractor.

This can be harder in situations like the one involving the cancer scammer, as regular people tend not to have as big of a social media presence or digital footprint. That said, even regular people under the age of retirement should have left a few breadcrumbs out there for you to find.

KICK THE TIRES: If you can’t find the person clearly through a digital search, feel free to play a little game of 20 Questions to see if you can get some things ironed out. Experts who have kicked the tires on a few bots can offer you specific ways to ask questions that will tend to ferret out fakers. The author in the cancer-scam story revealed that asking for specific photos based on prior conversations can be helpful as well.

I learned about this kind of thing in trying to defeat scams when it came to buying sports memorabilia. When unknown sellers offered either exactly what I wanted when I couldn’t find it anywhere else or provided me with a ridiculously low price for something I knew should cost more, the pros who had been around the block a few times suggested I ask the seller to “coin the image.”

What this meant was that I wanted the person to take a picture of the item with a coin (usually asking for either heads or tails, or maybe even a specific coin) so I could tell they had the item and weren’t messing with me. Turned out, that advice helped me dodge a bullet or two. As weird as it might seem, asking someone to take a picture with their left hand raised or holding a quarter with “heads” showing might help you avoid a problem.

MEET IN PERSON: Again, this is the most obvious one to suggest. If you meet a person, in person, it’s a pretty safe bet that you can consider them real. The rest of the stuff (Are they the expert they claim to be? Did they really do what they say they did? Do they actually have cancer?) remains a risk without substantial additional reporting, but at least you’ll know they exist.

If that can’t happen for legitimate reasons (the person lives too far away etc.), look for other ways to get some human connection with the source. That could be a Zoom/Teams/Whatever video chat or an actual phone call at an actual phone number. In the cases where the frauds proliferated, it was pretty clear that the only connection between the source and the journalist was through a keyboard. That’s especially dangerous when you don’t have a prior relationship with a source.

WHEN IN DOUBT, DO WITHOUT: At the end of the day, there is no journalistic rule that says you have to use a source, a quote or a “fact” just because you have it. If you don’t feel comfortable with how a source is providing you with information or you aren’t 100% sure this person is a person, it’s better to leave that source out of your story than it is to run the risk of getting bamboozled.

If you say, “Well, the whole story will fall apart without this one source and I can’t get anyone else to provide me with this information,” maybe that’s more revealing than anything else we’ve said here.

A Lot at Steak: How U.S. Education Secretary Linda McMahon’s AI Blunder Led to Marketing Gold

THE LEAD: Secretary of Education Linda McMahon managed to confuse AI (artificial intelligence) with A.1. (steak sauce) while delivering her comments at the ASU+GSV Summit last week.

The gaffe became fodder for all sorts of internet humor, but company responsible for making the condiment saw an awesome opportunity and took full advantage of the mistake:

A.1. Sauce capitalized on McMahon’s blunder by posting an Instagram post on their verified account saying, “You heard her. Every school should have access to A.1.”

“Agree, best to start them early,” the picture attached to the post reads.

Other Instagram users loved the response from the Kraft Heinz-owned brand. One user even commented, “I will be buying a bottle or two because of this post.”

KRAFT-ING MARKETING GOLD AGAIN: Kraft Heinz, which markets A.1., has a decent track record of grabbing a cultural moment and running with it. The company took advantage of the “Barbenheimer” explosion by introducing a pink “Barbie-cue” sauce and has also linked a ranch dressing to Taylor Swift. In each case, the company drew attention to its brand, garnered some nice free media publicity and avoided the kinds of gaffes often associated with trying to ride a trend.

Despite the random uncertainty in the market these days, the stock closed up on Friday and has shown a gain from $27.60 on April 9 to $29.33 on Friday. Although that time frame corresponds with the comments McMahon made about A.1., it’s a bit simplistic to say the gains were solely connected to that mistake.

In its rating of best food stocks to buy according to billionaires, Insider Monkey rated Kraft Heinz at the top of the list for a number of reasons, including global supply chain and reliance on AI (not A.1.) for keeping factories humming. Still, people are saying they’re buying a bottle or two of the steak sauce as a result of the gaffe:

So far, A.1.’s loyal fans seem to be in support of its “new sauce.”

“My husband wants a bottle for his desk,” one commenter wrote under the brand’s post. “He teaches middle school, at least until they replace him with A.1.”

BLOG FLASHBACK: Kraft Heinz isn’t alone in taking advantage of dumb situation with some marketing genius. As we noted back in 2018, Country Time Lemonade drew a lot of attention after it created its “Legal Ade” defense fund for kids who had been fined for not having a business permit to run their lemonade stands.

Like the A.1. effort, this worked because it was on the right side of the argument, made fun of the utterly ridiculous and didn’t run a significant risk of hurting its brand with this maneuver.

Other organizations tend not to be as lucky when they jumped in on trending hashtags or didn’t think about potential blow back before entering the larger discussion.

DISCUSSION TIME: What do you think Kraft Heinz should do next? Ride the wave? Leave it alone? Try something else? Also, what other marketing maneuvers have you seen that tried to connect with a trend? Did they succeed or fail in your eyes? Why?

It’s all fun and games until someone sues you for being an idiot: Pat McAfee Edition

ESPN forced to put out 'don't sue us' disclaimer as Pat McAfee show launches on live TV as NFL icon apologizes at start | The US Sun

The disclaimer on the front of Pat McAfee’s show.

THE LEAD: Pat McAfee, former NFL punter and current podcast maven, amplified an internet rumor on his show about Ole Miss quarterback Jaxon Dart and his girlfriend, Mary Kate Cornett. The unsupported allegation was that the 18-year-old freshman student was involved in a “triangle” of sexual relations with Dart and Dart’s father.

After suffering weeks of abuse, threats and other unpleasantness via the Online Idiot Brigade of Dude-Bros, Cornett plans to sue for defamation:

Now she is looking to hold accountable those who contributed to ruining her life, with McAfee and his network, ESPN, clearly in her sights.

“I’m not a public figure that you can go talk about on your show to get more views,” Cornett said on NBC.

BACKGROUND: McAfee is one of several larger “main-stream” media outlets that amplified this rumor. Barstool Sports folks promoted the rumor, along with a meme coin of Cornett. Former NFL player Antonio Brown posted a meme about the rumor. And this doesn’t count the number of other yahoos and local “shock-jock” idiots who did their own hot takes on the topic.

As a result, Cornett’s life has become a literal living hell:

As the rumor spread, Cornett removed her name from outside her dorm room, but she still had vile messages slipped under her door. Campus police told her she was a target, and she moved into emergency housing and switched to online courses.

Houston police showed up to her mother’s house, guns drawn, in the early hours of Feb. 27, in an apparent instance of “swatting” – when someone falsely reports a crime in hopes of dispatching emergency responders to a residence. According to security camera footage and a police report reviewed by The Athletic, the homicide division responded to the call.

After her phone number was posted online, Cornett’s voicemail was filled with degrading messages. In one, a man laughs as he says that she’s been a “naughty girl” and cheerfully asks her to give him a call. Another male caller says that he has a son, too, in case she’s interested. Several people texted her obscene messages, calling her a “whore” and a “slut” and advised her to kill herself.

UNDERSTANDING THE LAW: I talked to a couple Legal Eagle friends about this and they’re pretty much in agreement that anything from a defamation suit to an invasion of privacy case would likely tilt in Cornett’s favor. The key things to consider are this:

Cornett is not a public figure by any reasonable definition of the term, which means defamation is easier to prove. Yes, she’s dating a high-profile college athlete in the days of NIL money, but that doesn’t make her fair game. If she were a high-profile athlete or if she were promoting her personal brand of something or other online with a “brought to you by Jaxon Dart’s girlfriend,” McAfee’s actions would remain despicable, but the law could be a bit murkier. As a private individual, the standard she has to prove is negligence, not actual malice.
The rumor and the people spreading it (especially McAfee) have offered no proof for the allegations they are making about Cornett. As far as anyone can tell, this started out as a random post on YikYak and just kind of spread all over the place. Truth is one of the best “silver bullet” defenses against libel, which is why accuracy is so vital in journalism. If you accuse your university president of running a cocaine ring out of the basement of the student union, and you can prove it, you’re likely up for a Pulitzer, as opposed to a multi-million-dollar legal bill.
McAfee is not protected by the word “allegedly,” despite him and his panel of merry men slathering it about like mayo on a BLT. As we’ve discussed before, “allegedly” offers no legal protection.
McAfee is also not protected by his stupid disclaimer about it just being a joke-y show with a bunch of “stooges” just throwing bull around. If simple disclaimers like that worked, I’d put one on the back of Amy’s truck that says, “Disclaimer: I have a lead foot and a total disregard for my speedometer, so don’t pull me over to ticket me. I won’t change my behavior.”
Hyperbole doesn’t protect him either. The concept of hyperbole is that something has to be so outlandish that no reasonable person would believe it to be true. That’s why the Flynt v. Falwell case ended up in the favor of the porn producer, not the televangelist.

DOCTOR OF PAPER HOT TAKE: The first and most obvious thought is that Pat McAfee should know better than to do this. He’s 37 years old, so he’s been a grown-up for quite some time. He graduated with a communications degree from West Virginia University, so it’s likely he ran into some course at some point about what is and isn’t legal to say on air. He’s got a listener base of nearly 3 million people, so he should know that anything he says has a real chance to have a significant impact.

Even if he were none of those things, basic human decency plus the ability to observe the carnage that has befallen this poor kid* should have clued him in that it’s time to call off the dogs and apologize about this. (*Yes, the law considers her an adult, but she’s still basically a kid. Tell me you felt like a fully formed adult ready to deal with the world at large and I’ll be hard-pressed to believe you.)

Life as a teenager is ridiculously hard as it is. People are angry, petty and stupid. You feel lost and unable to control anything. Your mind races and wanders all at the same time as you try to figure things out for yourself, as every adult around you seems to be asking, “So, what are you going to do next?”

That doesn’t even account for the way in which social media has amplified the “Mean Girls” aspects of life, in which rumors spread more quickly, people get more vitriolic and anxiety can become amplified many times over. The crap teens say to their peers on a daily basis on social media channels could peel paint and give a truck driver the vapors. Now, imagine that it’s the entire world seemingly aligning against you for no good reason other than some chucklehead thought it would be funny to tell people you slept with someone’s dad.

I can’t imagine a way out. Actually, I can and others have as well, which is devastating beyond belief.

Trump Is Limiting The AP’s Access To White House Events Because It Won’t Use His Preferred Noun When Discussing The Gulf of Mexico

THE LEAD: The Trump administration barred several journalists from the Associated Press from reporting opportunities in and around the White House over the past week for not calling the body of water to the south of the country the Gulf of America.

AP executive editor Julie Pace noted Thursday that AP had been shut out of multiple events, including an open news conference with Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi, the signing of at least one executive order and the swearing in of Robert F. Kennedy, Jr. as the Health and Human Services secretary.

“This is now the third day AP reporters have been barred from covering the president — first as a member of the pool, and now from a formal press conference — an incredible disservice to the billions of people who rely on The Associated Press for nonpartisan news,” Pace said.

The dispute began Tuesday, when the AP was informed that it would be barred from attending White House events because of the organization’s decision to continue using the name Gulf of Mexico, not the Gulf of America, as Trump decreed in an executive order last month.

BRIEF RECAP OF THE SITUATION: President Donald Trump declared that the Gulf of Mexico should actually be named the Gulf of America, a declaration he codified with an executive order on Jan. 20. He doubled down on this declaration, when he deemed Feb. 9 the first “Gulf of America Day.”

Apple and Google maps have made the switch to this nomenclature, even as media outlets and foreign officials have pushed back on this move. (Apparently Bing followed suit, but nobody really noticed because… I mean… c’mon… It’s Bing.) The president of Mexico has threatened to sue Google over this change, while the AP and the White House apparently remain in a standoff over the issue.

Trump also made other name changes, such as shifting Denali back to Mount McKinley. In that case, the entirety of the mountain was within the U.S., so it didn’t require the international community to buy in. (Some folks in Alaska aren’t thrilled, to be fair, and the state’s senators are trying to get this undone.)

DEALING WITH TRUMP, AP STYLE: The Associated Press is an international organization that operates in more than 100 countries, produces content in multiple languages and serves more than 1,300 news organizations daily, so even minor changes or small disputes can have major consequences. In addition, the AP style guide is the bible (not Bible) for journalists everywhere, so what they say, we all tend to use.

In this case, the AP tried to “split the baby” by both acknowledging Trump’s actions while also not letting 400 years of history and global tradition get scrapped with the stroke of a pen:

Screenshot

In short, “Here’s what we’ve always called it, here’s how it now impacts U.S. government stuff, here’s who can ignore it and here’s our best way forward.” Apparently, that wasn’t good enough for the Trump administration.

CAN TRUMP DO THIS (Part I) ?: The larger question of Trump’s right to rename the gulf unilaterally depends on the specific question being asked. As far as the U.S. government is concerned, yes, he can really do this and has. Reports indicate that both the Department of the Interior and the Geographic Names Information System (GNIS), the official federal database of all U.S. geographic names, are moving in this direction.

In terms of what can be enforced upon the rest of the world, no. The United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea essentially established that countries have control of things like this only as far as 12 nautical miles from the coastline. (Mexico essentially makes this argument in its lawsuit against Google.) Also, as much as he might like it to be true, Trump does not dictate what everyone on the planet does. Therefore, his declaration has no jurisdiction beyond certain borders.

CAN TRUMP DO THIS (Part II)?: In regard to the issue of barring journalists from stuff, can Trump do it? Sure, and he’s done it before. In 2017, he banned The Guardian, CNN, the New York Times and several other media outlets from a “gaggle” briefing, based on coverage he didn’t like. In 2018, Trump folks barred CNN’s Kaitlan Collins from a Rose Garden event after she had questioned the president in a way that wasn’t taken well.

That same year, the administration revoked the media credentials of CNN’s Jim Acosta after an incident at a press briefing. (The White House reinstated the pass after CNN sued and a judge issued a temporary injunction on behalf of the network.) In 2019, he conducted a “mass purge” of journalists, restricting press access through “hard pass/soft pass” gamesmanship. Trump also just bounced a bunch of journalists out of their office space in the Pentagon, giving the space to outlets that give the administration more favorable coverage.

Generally speaking, the law dictates that the denial of a pass is within the rights of an administration, provided there is “an explicit and meaningful standard” to support its actions and “afford procedural protections.” That case did not say what it would take to revoke a pass, nor did it provide any clarity here in regard to who gets to go into the Oval Office or the Rose Garden or whatever.

DOCTOR OF PAPER HOT TAKE: There’s a lot to unpack here and it’s not entirely one-sided. As much as I hate having to discuss the First Amendment an “it depends” kind of way, at least this time, it doesn’t involve porn.

White House Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt is not entirely wrong in saying that a) covering the White House isn’t something everyone gets to do and b) the administration does have some leeway in how it controls who gets to go where when space is limited. I know I can’t just hop on a plane and demand access to the press room, let alone slide into the Oval Office for a chinwag with DJT, just because I’m writing a blog that dozens of people read.

It’s also no big secret that sources have always played favorites with media outlets. It would piss me off to no end when one of my reporters at the Columbia Missourian would call a police source about some story we had heard about and be told, “Nope… Nothing like that going on.” Then, miraculously, the Columbia Daily Tribune’s ancient cops reporter would somehow manage to break THAT EXACT STORY as an “exclusive” within two days.

I also used to hate the way that the Muncie Star-Press managed to have a great “buddy-buddy” relationship with the Ball State athletic office, so whenever something important would be going on (adding lights to the stadium, scheduling a nationally televised game), the Daily News kids would get shut out and the Star-Press would slather it all over the front page. To think the Trump administration would play more fairly with the national press than some yokel sources in the Midwest would with the local press seems to strain credulity.

Hell, it was so obvious he played favorites during his first term, John Oliver had some fun with it:

These kinds of things aren’t a blatant violation of the First Amendment, even if they feel petty and unfair.

All of that being said, I hate what Trump did here and I totally support AP’s position in regard to the coercive nature of this exclusionary maneuver. It does smack of favoritism, it does undermine their ability to spread information and it reeks of petty bull-pucky. I have a long-standing hatred for bullying, and that’s just what is happening here: “Do what we tell you to do, or else.”

This isn’t a new thing for Trump, nor will it be the only instance of it. I imagine there will be more than a few press passes getting yanked over the next few years, along with the obligatory lawsuits to get the Trump administration to back down. I also imagine that there will be additional significant efforts to cow the media throughout Trump’s reign. If there’s one thing this administration has consistently blessed with favor, it’s those who lavish unrelenting and uncritical praise upon the Dear Leader.

AP right now is in a game of “chicken” with the White House and I certainly don’t want the AP to back down. We could argue that nomenclature of this nature is petty and stupid (see the “freedom fries” debacle), but the bigger issue would be the press caving to power to curry favor. That’s the kind of loss of credibility that the AP could never get back once their reporters lost it. So, please, AP folks, for the sake of all of us out here trying to teach students how to do quality, unbiased journalism, fight like hell to get back what you have lost.

That said, the establishment doesn’t owe the AP a Snickers bar simply because they’re used to getting top-shelf treatment. I would argue that if you work for AP, you’re probably among some of the best, most-resourceful and dedicated reporters on the planet. You don’t get to the top of the heap like that be being spoon-fed and softly petted, so treat this slight like any other obstacle you would need to overcome.

I’d suggest you follow the lead from the folks getting the shaft at the Pentagon: “We’re going to work around this cheap ploy, because that’s what we do and we will not be deterred in holding the administration to account for its actions because that’s our job.”

A Look at “Apple Cider Vinegar” and How the Media Ecosystem Works

Earlier this month, Netflix dropped its most recent “tru-ish crime drama” mini-series, “Apple Cider Vinegar.” The series follows the rise and fall of wellness “guru” Belle Gibson, whose claims that she survived a terminal brain tumor (and other similar health crises) through the use of a wellness diet.

Here’s the trailer, which gives you a pretty solid look at what you’ll get over the six-episode saga:

The trailer and the series both seem to emphasize this odd game of “one-on-one” between Belle and Milla, the latter of which is not a real person. Experts digging into the series have offered theories about who Milla might be based on and to what degree Belle knew her, but it’s not as “Hatfields and McCoys” as we see in some clips and episodes.

We could spend about 8,000 words doing a “what’s true and what’s not” about this whole situation, but that wouldn’t really get us much in the way of value. What is interesting is to see how we got to a six-part mini-series about this health influencer and how it’s part of a pattern in media.

I’ve made the case in multiple classes that whether you’re in print, broadcast, film, social media, public relations, advertising or any other part of media that I missed, you’re not in a silo, but part of larger media ecosystem. In some cases, this is easy to see and it’s pretty linear: A PR practitioner puts out a press release on X topic, which mainstream media practitioners receive and use to craft a story. That story then gets shared on social media, where other media participants add information, provide commentary, offer other facets of coverage and so forth. Based on how loud that gets, the mainstream media, the original PR firm or other PR agencies can choose to respond, augment or ignore what’s going on.

In the case of Belle Gibson, we start with the easiest media on-ramp available: Social media. She began posting on various websites in the early 2010s and then developed a following through her “Healthy Belle” Instagram account. As she gained followers and attention, she developed the app “The Whole Pantry” in 2013, which had recipes related to the lifestyle she said had helped her beat her brain tumor. The success of the app led a Penguin Books subsidiary to publish a print edition cookbook of the same name and concept in 2014.

As she continued to get more and more attention, she had both supporters and detractors on social media. Her fans saw her as providing an alternative to the “cut, burn and poison” approach to cancer, while others had a hard time believing she could stop Stage 4 brain cancer with a smoothie.

Around this time, another part of the media ecosystem kicked in, as investigative reporters at The Age received information from one of Gibson’s former friends in 2015 that undercut her claims of raising money for charity and her recovery from cancer. Beau Donelly and Nick Toscano began digging into Gibson’s past and her claims to find that significant doubts existed among people who knew Gibson that she ever had cancer. They also reported that she didn’t donate money she raised for charity to said charity and that fans were beginning to turn on her.

As social media was continuing to shift the tide, Gibson fessed up in 2015 to The Weekly, explaining she never had cancer. “60 Minutes Australia” did a giant episode on Gibson in 2015, which included a confronting interview:

At this time, both print/online and broadcast media were digging into Gibson even more. Penguin pulled her book, her social media empire began to collapse and other publications found themselves in hot water over previous coverage of Gibson. Cosmopolitan had given Gibson a “Fearless Female” award while Elle Australia had reported her “miracle” story without fact-checking her cancer claims.

Somewhere in the middle of all of this, Gibson hired a PR firm to try to fix the situation. The folks there dropped her as the situation got out of hand.

In 2016, Consumer Affairs Victoria attempted to fine Gibson for violations of Australian Consumer Law. Reports indicate that she disappeared from public view, but as of 2020, she had not paid the fine.

While the mainstream media was keeping track of Gibson’s legal issues, Toscano and Donelly had turned their reporting into a longer-form read with the 2017 book, “The Woman Who Fooled the World.” They were also appearing on podcasts, media talk shows and more to discuss the situation.

Eventually, the story morphed into the “true-ish story based on a lie” that Netflix has put together, titled “Apple Cider Vinegar.” As the series launched, mainstream media stories about Gibson’s whereabouts have emerged, and, again, influencers and podcasters are taking another look at the story. (In addition, Netflix is posting the 2023 documentary, “The Search for Instagram’s Worst Con Artist,” next week. This piece covers the Gibson situation from a less “tru-ish” and more “true” angle.)

In looking back on this, we can see how this story continued to grow, morph and spread at least seven media forms (social, app, book, newspaper/website, broadcast, streaming, public relations) to say nothing of the tangential elements I likely missed. Obviously, not every story gets the full Netflix treatment or has Tara Brown ripping someone to shreds. However, it does demonstrate the ways in which the media ecosystem feeds upon an event, a situation, a story or a concept over time and across platforms.

EXERCISE TIME: Take a look at pretty much anything else a big-name streaming service is doing as a docu-series/docu-drama and see how many other tentacles of media you can find touching that story at any point. Try to isolate where the story really started and then piece together a timeline as best you can that provides a look at which media entered the fray where and contributed what aspects of information to the story.

A Brief Follow-Up on Fact-Checking A Flaming-Fart Claim

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who saw the claim that Gorman Thomas once lit a fart and took off one of Alfredo Griffin’s eyebrows in the process:

Clearly, I hit a nerve…

This was the most traffic I got on a single post in one day since the opening of the blog. By 6 a.m. Thursday, I had more visitors than I have on most normal days. A former student hit me up on Facebook to let me know his friends had found it while Googling this topic and that my post was pretty high on the list. So, I took a look on Google and found this:

I’m now famous for all people who Google “Gorman Thomas” and “fart.” Mom would be so proud…

My post was at the very top of a Google search, something I never thought could happen on anything not sponsored. Apparently, I should have pivoted the blog away from journalism years ago and focused primarily on fact-checking retro-claims of the farts produced by athletes…

I guess if there are a couple key points to make about all this, they are:

I’m thrilled that so many people took the time to try to fact check the claim about Gorman Thomas, as it gives me hope that maybe we aren’t all digital lemmings. I’d be even more thrilled if folks were digging into things with a little more societal gravitas, but we all have to start somewhere, so let’s be happy for a moment on this one.
Oddity still remains a key interest element. Every time I rework the books for subsequent editions, I try to make sure that they’re aging well. When I pitched the FOCII mnemonic for knowing what tends to draw people to information (Fame, Oddity, Conflict, Immediacy and Impact), I could point to specific examples I was seeing to support each element. In each subsequent edition, things in the world kept getting weirder and weirder, so it wasn’t always clear if we had become kind of numb to Oddity. Apparently, we haven’t. Or we all just like the idea of lighting farts.
If someone out there knows Gorman Thomas and is reading this, tell the man I’ve got his back.

And tell him I’ve still got the ball he signed for me.

Until next week,

Vince (a.k.a The Doctor of Paper)

AP Peeves: What are the style errors your students (or you) frequently make or that bother you the most?

A colleague who oversees the student newspaper at her college had this question about potential ways to make life easier on her staffers:

Our student newspaper does not have any prerequisite, so I have students who know nothing about AP Style. I’d love to put a poster in our lab of AP highlights. I found some AP Style highlight posters online, but they’re outdated. Before I create my own (instead of grading…), does anyone have one they use? Something editable to change every so often?

The Associated Press style book is the bible (not Bible) for media writers across the board. Despite students’ protestations to the contrary, the AP is not trying to torture them or kill their grades. Rather, the goal is to come up with some standardized conventions on important stylistics so that we best meet the needs of our readers and we’re all using a similar language to do so.

If I’m being honest, it’s almost impossible to have a complete handle on everything in the style book unless you have a photographic memory or are really anal retentive (or is that anal-retentive?) because things keep changing. One year, AP stated it made something like 168 changes, revisions and additions between the previous style book and that year’s model. This isn’t always a bad thing, as the additions can explain important global issues, provide more inclusive language or help clarify difficult concepts.

One of the key things I’ve tried to get across to the students is that most of getting to know the AP book is less about trying to know everything in it and more about trying to know what kinds of things the rules generally try to address. Therefore, I don’t necessarily need to know if I spell out “Avenue” with a full address or not, but I do need to know that there’s a rule on that, so I should open the book and make sure I’m sure about it.

However, when you’re trying to learn everything that’s going in there, it can feel like this:

(Yes, I know they misspelled bar mitzvah… No, I don’t control the internet…)

For the “Dynamics of Media Writing,” “Dynamics of News Reporting and Writing” and “Dynamics of Media Editing” books, we included Fred Vultee’s 5-Minute AP Guide, which did a great job of giving students a quick look at the key rules in short order. That said, I also know that a) not everyone has the books, b) not everyone makes the same mistakes and c) the request was for a poster.

I pitched the good folks at Sage the idea of building a poster based on what you all say you see most often and/or hate the most when it comes to AP style errors.

So here’s the deal: I’m starting with a few basic AP peeves of mine and I’m asking you to add yours. You can add them in the comments below, send them to me via the Contact page, hit me up on social media or get in touch with me however you otherwise would. As long as I get your peeve, I’ll do my best to add it to the poster.

Here we go:

Titles: Formal titles are capitalized only in front of a name, unless the name is part of a subordinate clause:
- RIGHT: I met Mayor Jane Jones at the grocery store
- RIGHT: I met the mayor at the grocery store.
- RIGHT: I met the mayor, Jane Jones, at the grocery store.
Numbers: Unless there’s a specific exception, spell out numbers under 10. Anything 10 or higher is a figure. (Don’t worry, I’m adding numbers to this poster like a BOSS…)
Time of day: It’s a.m. and p.m. not AM/PM, A.M./P.M. or any other combo.
Affect/Effect: My personal demon. I have to look it up every time.

Your turn. Go for it!

Vince (a.k.a. The Doctor of Paper)

Dynamics of Writing

"Dynamics" textbooks updates, media issues and general mirth

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