Advanced Writing

Six Important Things That Got Lost In The Story Of The SIU-Edwardsville Communication Director Who Filed A Police Report Against The Editor of The Student Newspaper

Student media and university officials tend to have relationships that range from somewhat cordial to downright vitriolic. This makes sense in a relatively adversarial system, in which the goal of the university is to present itself in the most positive light possible, while the goal of the student journalists is to present reality, regardless of how it makes the university look.

In the case of The Alestle at Southern Illinois University-Edwardsville, the relationship has devolved to the point in which a member of the school’s PR team filed a police report against the paper’s editor, claiming harassment via one line in an email. This is on top of a PR official saying her unfettered ability to sit in on interviews between student reporters and university personnel is “non-negotiable.” And those are just the most recent clashes over what is and isn’t acceptable under the First Amendment.

If you are behind on the story, there has been a TON of good reporting that can catch you up here:

The headlines of the story capture both the oddity and impact of this story: A clash over the First Amendment rights of student journalists ends up with an administrator essentially calling the cops on the editor, claiming harassment. What is getting overlooked however, reveals a bigger set of problems for the students, the university and even press freedom in general.

I exchanged a series of emails with The Aleste’s editor-in-chief, Dylan Hembrough and also conducted a phone interview with him, exchanged a series of emails with SIUE Director of Communications Nicole Franklin and did some deep dives into the background of this beef.

Rather than rehash what a lot of superior journalists have already reported, here are a few important things that are getting lost in the coverage of this story:

THIS ISN’T A ONE-TIME PROBLEM: A number of articles look at this moment as a singular incident, but it’s not. Although neither party could put a specific date on the start of the conflict, Hembrough, pointed to a story he wrote, regarding the university’s policy that resident assistants (RAs) were not allowed to talk to student media.

As the story made the rounds, the Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression (FIRE) caught wind of it and eventually wrote a letter to SIUE, explaining how the university couldn’t clamp down on students’ free speech rights if they were to speak as individuals, not university representatives. In response, the university noted The Aleste’s story was inaccurate, but did not elaborate on why it was wrong or what clarifications they had provided to student workers about media interactions.

According to the FIRE website, the case remains active in the organization’s files.

Hembrough has been EIC for the past three years and said that he’s outlasted three head spokespeople, each of whom has been less than thrilled/cooperative when it comes to The Alestle, so clearly this isn’t a one-time problem.

 

THIS ISN’T AN ALESTLE-ONLY PROBLEM: FIRE keeps track of everything related to free-speech/expression and hasn’t found a lot great to say about SIUE. FIRE has labeled the institution as “red,” which means it has at least one policy that is exceptionally problematic in relation to free speech on campus. Here’s the general report card that outlines its ranking in free speech:

(To be fair to SIUE, UW-Madison is ranked 61 and still has a grade of D, even though it’s a bastion of liberalism that has the reputation of “Two’s company, three’s a protest.” Probably the more telling thing is SIUE’s ranking of 243 out of 261 colleges and universities. Private institutions like Notre Dame and Marquette University rank better and they’re technically ALLOWED to do more suppression than SIUE if they felt like it.)

In addition, the school settled a free-speech lawsuit in 2023 with former student Maggie DeJong, who argued the university violated her First Amendment rights. According to the suit, DeJong wore a “Back the Blue” hat to class as a way to show her support of police and counter speech related to “defunding the police.”

After several discussions with professors and administrators, a university official issued a no-contact order between DeJong and several classmates, an action the suit called viewpoint discrimination. In the settlement, the school paid DeJong $80,000 and agreed to revise policies related to issues like this in the future.

In 2018, College Republicans sued the school over a free-speech policy that literally restricted free speech to 0.0013% of the total campus footprint. Even worse, the policy regarding that tiny “Speech Zone” required that the university approve the “free speech” offered in that space at least two days in advance if the planned speech was expected to be fluffy and happy speech. If the speech could be more “controversial,” students needed to get the permission 90 days in advance.

What makes something “controversial” under that policy? That was at the sole discretion of the school. The school settled for $10K in legal fees and a promise to redo the policy.

Long story short, it’s not just a liberal thing or a student media thing. SIUE just seems like a place that treats free speech like it’s a cockroach problem that won’t go away.

 

WHO GETS TO CALL THEMSELVES JOURNALISTS?: The two key media reps for SIUE during this situation, Franklin and Executive Director Paula Bridges, have leaned heavily on their status as former journalists with decades of journalism experience while condemning The Alestle.

(EDITOR’S NOTE: Bridges has left her position at SIUE as of Sept. 16, according to an article on The Alestle website. Links to her staff pages at SIUE are now dead and she has not updated her LinkedIn profile with new career information as of this writing.)

Franklin made her bona fides known during an interview with the Edwardsville Intelligencer:

So as I navigated a career that straddled 30 years in television news and more than 25 as an indie filmmaker some would agree my work exemplifies a Black woman’s joy. I’ll take it. My desire to pursue communications in college in reference to broadcast media was what I saw as the only degree that made sense at the time.”

<SNIP>

“That’s an interesting question because I came to this role after working 30 years in news television as a video editor/engineer and more than 25 years as an independent filmmaker.

Bridges also calls herself a journalist on her LinkedIn page, noting experience in both print and broadcast. In the letter she wrote slamming The Alestle, she doubled down on that statement:

As a journalist with more than 30 years of experience with newspapers, news radio, magazines, and broadcast television, I will always defend First Amendment rights and freedom of the press. I also recognize the important obligation that accompanies the power to publish: verify facts before publication and correct errors when they occur.

I concluded my reporting career as an Emmy Award-winning news anchor, and served across various sectors including municipal government, public safety, the judiciary, and education. I am writing an open letter to our university community because I am deeply troubled by the direction and disposition of The Alestle as an exercise of journalism.

In digging into both of their backgrounds, it’s unclear to me how the math works and also how those experiences directly relate to any First Amendment support.

For Franklin, she lists the following items:

The big one, where she spent 17 years was a bit confusing, but in digging into her resume, it was a little clearer:

This was mostly production work, as opposed to news gathering or journalistic content creation. In addition the other two places where she worked that are categorized as “news” are basically morning programs where little in the way of hard-hitting news occurs. And again, I’d imagine she wasn’t responsible for the news reporting as a video editor.

In terms of Bridges, the experience brag is nowhere nearly commensurate with the resume she publicly shares. That “30 years” she opens her letter with really comes down to about eight or nine years of broadcast journalism at the anchor desk:

That’s actual experience in journalism, no doubt, even if it ended before a lot of The Alestle staffers were in grade school. Outside of that, however, her professional life has been on the PR side of the fence for numerous public institutions:

Add all that up and you more than double her time in journalism, not to mention it’s the most recent 17 years of her career, give or take. That’s not to criticize those jobs, as I teach students every day who want to take gigs like that, but I’d argue that those careers are more about reputation management and positive front-facing work as opposed to what news reporters do.

Also, given those positions, I’d wager a dollar to a doughnut that Hembrough and his crew have done more investigative, deep-dive, digging-around, according-to-Hoyle journalism stuff in the past three years than these two folks have done at any of their stops.

 

BELIEVE WHOMEVER YOU WANT, BUT CHECK THE RECEIPTS FIRST:  In most cases like this, one side puts out a list of issues it has about free speech or conflict and the other side goes silent. If you look back at the multi-part series we did here in Indiana University’s fight with the Indiana Daily Student, I tried to get comments from at least five people in administration and the only response I got was a set of links to previous statements that didn’t answer my questions.

In this situation, both Hembrough and Franklin have been active in presenting their cases to the media. As is the case with most mainstream media stories, space is limited and reporters want to play fair, so they grab a quote from each and move on.

In the case of Hembrough, the quotes mostly discuss the way in which the admin has been dumping all over the paper in public without having the facts right. In the case of Franklin, the quotes mostly present a case of the students making mistakes and not correcting them, all while arguing she’s totally in favor of free speech.

For example, Franklin made what appears to be a completely reasonable statement in an email to me:

This has never been about free speech or freedom of the press. SIUE has a long history of sponsoring The Alestle and training student journalists, and that commitment has not wavered.

The real issue is the lack of journalistic principles of objectivity, truthfulness, and accuracy. Calling for accuracy is not interference. The Alestle has repeatedly published information that is inaccurate and, despite requests for corrections, has been slow or unwilling to make them.

That comment sounds fair, in that being accurate and following journalistic principles should be at the core of what student media does. When I asked Hembrough about those allegations, he did more than comment.

He brought the receipts to prove stuff. 

In this timeline of links, rebuttals and clarifications, he names names, documents dates and shows his work. In picking through this over the last week, I could easily see how some of the comments Franklin had made in various comments were either inaccurate or in service of the university’s narrative.

He also had emails to support his statements that Franklin had been presented with information about her presence at interviews being a First Amendment violation, as well as her reactions, such as her statement that her presence was “non-negotiable.”

And as Hembrough said, “There are only so many ways you can slice the word non-negotiable.”

When it comes down to it, journalists are supposed to be objective, but we’re also supposed to be fans of reality. In other words, if one person says it’s raining and one person says it’s sunny, we aren’t supposed to just report both equally.

We’re supposed to look out the window and figure out who’s right, which is why checking those receipts is really important.

 

IT’S HARD TO SQUARE THE CIRCLE ON SIUE’S FIRST AMENDMENT TALK: What keeps coming up most in these discussions is the First Amendment and how it either is or isn’t being violated in this situation. In an email Franklin sent me, she noted:

Our position is straightforward: the University has a legitimate interest in ensuring that information it provides to the public is objective, truthful, accurate, and that factual errors concerning the University are identified and, where appropriate, corrected. That interest does not conflict with our commitment to free speech and free press.

Based on what I’ve seen of the coverage on this, the timeline Hembrough provided and my digging into the background on SIUE, the reporting is meeting those goals, with errors generally being corrected in what is a reasonable time period.

I’m uncertain as to how the university is parsing “truthful” versus “accurate” and it’s also interesting that the lack of objectivity seems to be focused on stories that don’t paint the university in the best light.

Setting those issues aside, experts in media law at multiple organizations have stated their concerns regarding the way in which the actions of SIUE’s PR folks are problematic in relation to the First Amendment rights of The Alestle staff. The response from the system’s lawyer doesn’t directly address the concerns.

If you’re really committed to the First Amendment, it means you have to support press freedom that is unfettered by governmental overreach, both direct and indirect. When experts in that field are telling you, point blank, you are in violation of the letter and spirit of that law, it might be time to reconsider your actions.

If sources are really concerned about accuracy, have them record the interview instead of having Franklin sit in. It’s a fair trade, in that both sides have a complete record of what happened and no governmental agent is there to potentially chill the exchange of information.

(SIDE NOTE: I emailed a couple people who have covered this story and a couple journalists who cover SIUE on the regular to ask one basic question: Does Franklin make a point of sitting in on your interviews as well? I’m trying to figure out if this is an Alestle-only thing or not. If anyone responds, I’ll add it here.)

Speaking of chilling, filing a police report against a student journalist feels an awful lot like a brush-back pitch. In our interview, Hembrough told me he got the email during class and his anxiety immediately kicked into overdrive:

I was pretty jarred. I’ll tell you that. So I got the email on Wednesday morning. I was in the middle of class, and I had to step out for about half an hour because I started to panic.

<SNIP>

I had been managing mentally pretty well up until that morning. I had to take some of my emergency medicine to avert the panic attack, which thankfully it kicked in just in time. But I still missed a decent chunk of class.

Actions like these don’t tend to send a message that someone is totally in favor of free speech. If you’re really and fully committed to the freedom of the press, you need to let it ride at all times, not just when you’re happy with what the press is doing.

 

SIUE IS BULLYING ITS OWN STUDENTS: In my interview with Hembrough, he was talking about the juxtaposition of the allegations that he harassed Franklin and the way in which the school has been treating The Alestle:

If that’s harassment, then what are they doing to us by sending a letter to every student and faculty and staff member on this campus, calling us liars and bad mouthing us to these national organizations?

Bullying their own students really is what it comes down to.

When we read stories about university administrators attacking student media, it’s often hard to remember that the student journalists actually CHOSE to be at the institutions that are attacking them. In many legal ways, they are like any other journalists who are gathering information and telling stories. However, they are also tuition-paying members of the larger university community.

Every university marketing campaign I’ve ever seen is filled with platitudes about how the school will be this fantastic place for its students, complete with career prep, academic inquiry and personal growth.

I’ve yet to see an asterisk on any of that marketing material that says, “Unless you are a student journalist who ticks us off, at which point, buckle your chinstrap.”

How to break through with good breaking news coverage

When you absolutely, positively need to break an important story… 

 

I spent part of the summer critiquing student news media outlets and judging student media contests, something that often helps me see what is going on in the universe of universities. Some things never change (parking problems, dorm food debacles, roommate dysfunction) while other things definitely show me the nuance and distinctiveness among various schools.

A category that kept showing up on my plate was “breaking news,” mainly because that category tended to have a lot of entries, thus other volunteers avoided it like the plague, and I spent my formative journalism years running after anything that caught fire, got shot or otherwise went to hell in a speedboat.

As strange as it seemed to me, there wasn’t a lot of consistency in terms of what qualified as “breaking news” or what made a breaking-news story worthy of submission. Everything from county fairs to shootings ended up here, with lengths ranging from “undersized haiku” to “plus-sized Iliad.” Sufficient to say, all of this made it difficult to pick winners, particularly when trying to compare them.

With all that in mind, here are some things that came to mind as I was reading through some of the offerings:

AN EVENT ISN’T (NORMALLY) BREAKING NEWS: The concept behind “breaking” news really started with radio broadcasting in the 1930s. It was predicated on the idea was that something so important and unexpected had happened, it merited breaking into whatever was currently on air to alert the public about that important thing. With that in mind, if you’re going to call something breaking, you need to showcase two things:

  1. How something is exceptionally important, exceeding the importance of the regular stuff you were covering.
  2. How it was unexpected, either in terms of no one foreseeing it happening or something that was expected to happen a certain way going off the rails.

In most cases, this means event stories don’t really meet those primary requirements. For example, a group of people planning an annual “walk a mile in her shoes” march to support sexual-assault awareness isn’t a breaking news piece unless something unexpected happens. If it goes off the way it should, it’s an event and that’s about it.

That’s not to say anything that doesn’t involve a shooting or a fire can’t be a breaking news story. An unplanned walkout of school students to protest how the district is banning books could be a breaking news event, as could a planned walkout that started peacefully enough before the kids started throwing flaming books at cars in the faculty parking lot.

If everyone knows this is happening for weeks in advance, so much so the administration sanctions it and the PTA brings bottled water and snacks, you’re not “breaking” much of anything.

 

GRAB ME QUICK, HOLD ME TIGHT: In a lot of contest entries I reviewed, I felt that a lot of people were abiding by the “longer is better” philosophy when it came to what made the cut. I get that this makes a lot of sense in feature categories, profile categories and in-depth/investigative categories, as deeper pieces with more nuance and description need the room to breathe. (To be fair, even some of those could use a little pruning.)

What really made the difference with the breaking stories, however, was how quickly the lead grabbed me and how tightly written the rest of the piece was. I knew something had made the first cut and probably the final pile if I read a lead and instinctively blurted out, “Oh my God!”

When I found myself scrolling to the end of the story and not skipping a word before I hit the requisite ads for “5 tricks to relieve back pain your doctor won’t tell you” and “You’ll never guess what your favorite teen idol got busted for now!” I knew it was a tight, strong read.

If you’re truly “breaking” the news, you need to tell people right away what happened and why they care. If you want to think about it in relation to the old broadcast standard, you’re essentially saying, “Here is something so important, we need to stop what you like enough to be currently watching/hearing and point you to this new thing.” To that end, when you aren’t producing content like that, you need to return people to their previously scheduled programming.

(SIDE NOTE: The one real thing we tend to “break into” programming for these days is weather, which makes a lot of sense, as an impending tornado or damaging storm is something people NEED to know about NOW, so they can go to safety. However, the local weather folks seem like they start channeling Norma Desmond from “Sunset Boulevard” the minute they get on the air.

It takes everything I have not to start laughing when they cut into a Brewers game and spend the next 30 minutes repeating 30 seconds worth of information, only stopping to say, “We KNOW we’re interrupting the Brewers game, but you need to listen to us NOW!” Meanwhile, my dad is practically chewing on the remote control as these weather barons are waiting for Mr. DeMille to give them a close up.)

Breaking news doesn’t have to be long, but it does have to pound the heck out of the content in a non-stop fashion. Even if in an early unfolding report you have to add information based on observation or other “filler” elements, once you get to a true breaking situation, trim out any random garbage that doesn’t keep a grip on the readers’ eyeballs and you’ll have a winner.

 

TELL ME WHAT YOU KNOW AND WHAT YOU DON’T: The best stories answer all the questions readers have in a clear and complete fashion. The next time that happens in a breaking news event will be the first time it ever happened.

That’s not a dig on reporters or media outlets, as it’s the nature of the beast: When something unexpected happens, everyone is trying to figure things out at the same time, so there will naturally be a dearth of information and a ton of holes in stories.

The best breaking news tells the audience everything the reporter knows about the situation, but it also tells the audience what they DON’T know as well. That can feel counterintuitive sometimes, because it’s like answering questions on a final exam with, “You got me! Good one! I have no idea.”

However, I know that when I was reading stories, I had questions that kept popping up in my head. Maybe it was the journalist in me, but sometimes I was thinking, “Did they try to call (SOURCE X)?” or “Was (DOCUMENT Y) available?” Other times, I saw holes in stories like, “Did the police catch the robber?” or “When can people move back in now that the flooding is receding?”

I’m sure a few folks forgot to ask those questions or gather those facts, but I bet even more of the journalists asked about the stuff I had wondered about, but nobody had an answer, or a source refused to comment.

Putting in those bits of information can help the readers see what you did to provide them with the most complete story. That not only helps fill some holes they see, but it also gives them more confidence in the rest of the story, as it becomes clear that you did the job as well as the job could be done.

 

 

The objects people own can help us tell the best stories if we take the time to ask about them

About 15  years ago, I was riding in a  taxi at 4:30 in the morning with a driver who was yammering a million miles per minute in a dialect best described as “Swamp People on Uppers.”

He was telling me about the heat index and how I was lucky to be leaving Columbia, Missouri before sun up. He was telling me about his home somewhere in Louisiana, which he left because of some reason he couldn’t adequately explain in our short drive.

He was talking about a story he heard on the radio about a woman in Philadelphia being hit in the face by a five-pound fish, a situation he said likely occurred when an eagle dropped its lake-drawn quarry  into a nearby tree.

Suddenly he stopped, and in clear, crisp English said, “Hey, you wanna buy  a watch?”

Then, he was off to the races again, explaining that a drunk flagged him down around 3 a.m. and asked for a ride home and how he wasn’t going to give the guy a ride, but the guy promised him a big tip and then they got to his house and you know what? “That sumbitch didn’t have no money on him.”

So… The guy hands over a watch to hold until he could go into his house and get money, but then he disappeared into the house and wouldn’t answer the door no matter how loudly the driver knocked…

Each time the driver pitched me the watch, the value went up: It started as a $100, based on what the guy saw online. Then it was a, swear to God, $150 watch. By the time we got to our highway off ramp, it was a $250 timepiece, but the hell did he need a watch for? He didn’t ever wear a watch and besides, he had his wife to tell him how damned late he was… All he needed was to sell it so he could cover his fare and not get in trouble with the bosses…

And on and on and on it went.

When we got to the airport, I had stifled the laughter as long as I could, but I still had to ask,  “OK, so how much was the fare?”

“It was 25 goddaddanged dollars!” he told me. “And I mean this watch… You know how much this thing is worth?”

At that point, I forked over my fare, a tip and an additional $25 for the watch. It wasn’t so much that I was buying the watch, but instead, I bought the story. And the story attached to that object was worth so much more than the object itself.

When it comes to writing, you can find a lot of value in understanding stories and how objects can lead to those things. Objects themselves are pretty much static and plain, but the things they evoke in us can make for some fascinating stories. Good reporters can ask questions about those items to tap into something beneath the surface of a source. Good writers can then use those revelations to better paint word pictures for the audience.

For example, when I’m doing a profile, I look to see if there’s something very clearly important to a person in their office, their home, their car or more. Sometimes, it’s simple like hand-drawn crayon-colored pictures taped to a wall, showcasing that they’re a “mommy” or “daddy” first and a powerful CEO second.

(I once mentioned in a lecture that occasionally I’ll spot a piece of jewelry on someone that seems to feel particularly important. Almost instinctively, a young lady in the room reached up and touched a pendant hanging on her necklace. It turned out, that was the last gift her grandmother had given her, and it serves as a sentimental reminder of a relative.)

I have found that you can learn a lot about people based on certain objects and asking about those items. I figured this out when I first started doing furniture restoration and friends would put me in touch with people torn between selling and refinishing a piece.

I’d ask a simple question, “Tell me about your (chair/table/hutch/whatever).”

If they started to tell me that it was maple or walnut, or that it was such-and-such brand from such-and-such era, I’d likely offer to buy the piece. I’d then refinish it and either keep it or sell it.

If they started with, “Oh, this was my grandma’s chair,” or “This was mom and dad’s kitchen table, and we always had our holiday dinners on it,” I’d convince them to get it restored, do it for whatever they could afford and return it to them in the best shape possible.

In one case, I’d donated a “gift certificate” for refinishing to a fundraiser for a local boy who was experiencing some significant health challenges. I promised that the winner of the silent auction could have any piece done that they wanted (as long as it wasn’t a piano or something I couldn’t move).

The family that won it asked to have their oak kitchen table redone, and it had really seen better days. The finish was all worn off, it had glass rings permeating the wood and the thing had an ungodly wobble to it. As I was loading it into the car, the mom of the family said her daughter had a request. The daughter was in her early 20s and she seemed embarrassed that her mom was making a fuss, but I asked what she wanted.

“Do you see these cigarette burns?” she asked, pointing to several spots on the well-worn table top. “Can you save them? Her grandfather used to smoke at the table and she said she’d be sad if they were all gone.”

So, that’s exactly what I did, leaving those little “character” remarks behind because the sentimental reminder was worth more than perfection to these people.

As a reporter, look to the objects that are interesting or distinctive in some meaningful way and see what a source can tell you about it. In some cases, a vase is just a vase or a ring is just a ring, but it never hurts to ask. In many cases, you will open the door to something well beyond what you could have imagined.

ONE FINAL NOTE: Sometimes objects can help explain something about the subject of a piece or typify an aspect of a personality that otherwise would be inexplicable.

For me, the best example is this ashtray:

I picked this up at an estate sale a few years back, and it’s nothing special. I think I paid five bucks for it and it’s advertising a relatively obscure beer company overseas.

However, the process of getting it and keeping it reveals a lot about me. (At least that’s what Amy said, and she didn’t really say it in a good way…)

I was wandering around the sale when I spotted this on the ground and nobody else was near it or me. When I picked it up, a woman who runs an antique store and was hoarding things in a pile 30 feet away screams, “THAT’S MINE! I WAS GETTING THAT!”

I looked at the guy who was running the place and he kind of just shrugged, so as I went to buy it, she was making all sorts of passive aggressive comments about how I “stole” from her and how I should know how “unethical” I was being. As I was leaving, she asked the guy about furniture restoration and buying restored pieces, and he mentioned I had done some and was good, so she asked for my number.

Peace with honor, I thought, so when she texted me asking about furniture I’d done, I sent pictures and offered to sell her some things. To which she responded, “I might consider that if you give me back my ashtray.”

So, before I deleted her number and blocked her, I calmly texted back that if I were ever to be so broke that I starved to death and was forced to be buried in a debtor’s field, I would be buried with that frickin’ ashtray before I ever gave it to her for any reason.

Hypocrisy, Thy Name is “Insider:” A Deeper Look at The Athletic’s Postmortem on The Dianna Russini/Mike Vrabel Scandal

THE LEAD: From the “Oh, really? Ya THINK?!?” Department…

An internal investigation by The Athletic found that the relationship between Dianna Russini, its former senior N.F.L. reporter, and Mike Vrabel, the head coach of the New England Patriots, was a “clear violation” of the company’s standards.

In a report released Thursday detailing findings of its monthslong investigation, The Athletic said that the relationship gave the appearance of a conflict of interest and Ms. Russini should have revealed it to the company.

CATCHING UP: As I think everyone short of the Beaver County Tidbit has reported earlier this year, Russini and Vrabel had photos of them published that made it clear there was more than a “source/reporter” relationship going on.

Russini first vigorously defended herself against these allegations, saying everything was taken out of context and she wasn’t going to dignify this non-story with a response.

Dianna Russini’s PR team making it clear that there’s nothing to this story….

Meanwhile, Vrabel made a vague mea culpa, complete with his decision to attend counseling because… um… you got me on this one.

RANDOM SIDE NOTE: Can I have her job? According to a story written after the relationship became public, Russini was making bank:

Ms. Russini was not just any reporter. The Athletic paid her an annual salary of close to $800,000, according to a former manager who had knowledge of her salary negotiation. This would have made her one of the highest-paid journalists at the Times Company.

She apparently filed somewhere north of 900 stories during her three years at the publication, along with appearing on podcasts, doing videos and more, so I’m not saying she didn’t work at her job, but damn… At what my kids are telling me they’re making coming out of college, we could staff a decent-sized newsroom out here for what The Athletic was paying the self-described “straight-up MILF.”

HYPOCRISY, THY NAME IS INSIDER: First things first for the journalism kids out there: Don’t have any kind of snuggly relationships of any kind with any source if you are a reporter.

If you somehow managed to find yourself with a potentially risky situation (as I once did in getting engaged to a city council rep, even though I didn’t cover city council as my beat), disclose the relationship ASAP and then figure out if the juice is worth the squeeze depending on the rules of your gig and the level of interest you have in your significant other.

But here’s the one question nobody seems OK with asking at any of these major media outlets:

Was the Vrabel situation worse than anything else “insiders” are doing?

I get that Americans are always going to clutch their pearls when sex-like-stuff becomes public and I know that women (particularly women covering sports) are constantly treated less favorably than men.

But let’s not pretend sports “insiders” are anything more than glorified PR agents that get paid way too much and get away with way more than they should.

In the same timeline in which the Russini-Vrabel was being feverishly dissected by journalists, fellow “insider” Jay Glazer was pouring back the suds with coaches at a pool party he has apparently hosted for the past 18 years.

The reporters tsk-tsking Russini used footage of this party to show that Vrabel wasn’t present, apparently because he was out “running the offense” with Russini or something. Apparently, it was fine for Glazer to set up a day-drinking session with the people he covers, and no one has tried to put a stop to an event older than the incoming college freshman.

Glazer has gotten in deep with all sorts of players and teams, including serving as an MMA trainer for several players. He also once got away with this:

I often recall Walter Cronkite demanding that LBJ let him sign a bill… 

As we noted when Adam Schefter wasn’t behaving like a paragon of journalistic virtue, the “insider” culture that has consumed sports journalism is overflowing with hypocrisy and self-promotion.

The “insiders” pretend to be journalists when they want to break stories, but pretend not to be when they want to break journalistic rules. Charissa Thompson tried to play this angle a few years back, when she said she “made up” quotes as a sideline reporter, only to try to walk it back.

Even without the whole “Oh my stars! She might have touched his manly virtue!” stuff, Russini seemed a bit ethically compromised by the spoils of stardom. She apparently bragged about hanging out with the who’s who of the NFL, and even trying to use a coach to get her out of a speeding ticket.

Other sports reporters, whose livelihoods depend on scoops and staying ahead of the pack, see what the “insiders” do and how well they are treated, so they figure if that’s the game, let’s go play it.

This is why we get more and more “anonymous sources” for less and less important content. It’s why we see more grandstanding and brand building from the “big names” in the media instead of following the same rules  everyone else has to.  It’s why we see people pushing the edge of the envelope in what is acceptable to cover and how much of a jagwad they feel comfortable being in covering it.

It’s also why when sports and news meet, sometimes some a reporter will take a corner or two too quickly and end up getting sued back to the Stone Age.

Professional sports loves themselves some PR, and basically, that’s what they get when they pick out their favorite mouthpieces and spoon feed them content they want to have in the public.

So, let’s stop pretending that Glazer, Schefter and dozens of other “reporters” who start every sentence with “The general manager told me exclusively that…” haven’t sold their journalistic souls for heavy bank and easier scoops.

They might not be pulling tongue with a coach in a hot tub, but they’re no less ethically compromised than someone in a romantic relationship with a source.

Catching up with a former student got me to see how best to help future students

I spent part of this week catching up with a former student who has a job most of my current students would give multiple limbs to obtain: beat writer for the Green Bay Packers. The view he has of sports, his job and the importance of learning really inspired this post, so I’m hoping I do him justice.

When students around here discuss their desire to enter the world of sports journalism, they tend to focus on a variety of surface-level interests: Getting to cover games, getting to know players, seeing how the league works, publishing columns that offer opinions on the team and so forth.

In teaching sports journalism students over the years, they have often expressed a sense of connectivity to their team as well, much to my chagrin. In presenting the students with a fictional ethics scenario regarding the arrest of a football player from their school, they often declined to publish information about the situation because they say it will “hurt our team.” They’ve also noted that most of their readers would be upset that this story could create problems for “our player” or undercut “our chances” to win.

(In grading these, I’d often push back by asking, “What about your readers who think you’re playing favorites for an athlete in a way you wouldn’t for them?” or “What about your readers who aren’t fans of the team and think you’re picking sides against them?” I rarely got a substantive answer to those questions.)

Other students have complained about having to take on different assignments, such as open records, crime coverage, deep-dives and more. “I’m never going to have to know this stuff,” they’ll say, as they groused about stories that required them to look at the impact of vaccination rates on dorm dwellers, the difference between robbery and burglary or how a budget works.

In discussing this stuff with my former student a bit, he talked about all the random topics he’s had to learn about while covering college and pro sports, which led me to this list of things that can benefit ALL student journalism folks:

 

BECOME A LIFELONG LEARNER: If there’s one thing I’m REALLY worried about in terms of artificial intelligence, it’s that people will become less interested in learning things. If the AI can do something difficult for you, it’s a lot easier to let that happen and do something less taxing that you enjoy.

One of the things my former student mentioned was how he had to learn how the criminal justice system worked when athletes were accused of crimes. He also had to learn about medical conditions like CTE when former players found themselves dealing with brain damage later in life. He learned how to understand issues related to city construction and planning/zoning while seeing stadiums being discussed or construction projects related to athletics coming to fruition.

In each case, he found himself not only being nosy (a great journalism trait) but interested in learning the key aspects of each area so that he could clearly and fully explain what was going on for his readers. I also got the sense from him that learning those things made him feel more confident in his writing and less likely to become bored with the grind of the “pre-game/game/post-game” story treadmill.

Trying to inspire lifelong learning in some students can be like trying to teach a seal to play the cello, but it’s worth it when it actually pans out. Not only are students more likely to build a better knowledge base from which to write, but they’re also more likely to benefit the readers by going beyond the basics.

 

EXPLAIN “WHY” MORE: One of the stories he wrote that I still use to this day was from his summer as a sports editor at the student newspaper. As we were preparing for a final issue, an open-records request response came in, dumping dozens of emails on the sports desk that talked about the tension between a coach and the university. I distinctly remember the look on his face when that happened: it was like he’d seen a ghost coming after him with a chainsaw.

We printed off all the emails and started highlighting dates, people and specific chunks of text that ran counter to the standing narrative the U had put out, which was that everything was fine. In the end, he published a great story that really capped the summer nicely.

In chatting about it a little the other day, the former student mentioned how grateful he was that I was working with him on it and how I was explaining not just WHAT we were looking for or writing, but WHY we were doing it. He also was able to see WHY we decided to file that open-records request, as the resulting story showcased how open-record requests could reveal truths that some people had been hiding.

I have found that over time a gap has continued to widen on both ends of my teaching spectrum: I tend to think that things I have taught multiple times have a patently obvious rationale behind them, so explaining “why” seems redundant. Meanwhile, students every year seem to have less and less awareness of the entirety of things around them, thus making them less and less likely to understand why certain things matter the way they do. Each year, I try to recalibrate my end of the deal and lean in harder on explaining the “why,” both because it tends to help them better understand what I’m teaching and because if they understand the “why,” they tend to internalize it and have stronger buy in.

 

BREAK DOWN THEIR ABSOLUTISM: I don’t know if I’m the only one seeing this, but I’ve noticed that students in more recent semesters tend to either default to “I don’t know” when asked a question or they lock in on an answer and will defend it to the death, even when it’s completely wrong.

I’m not talking about questions like, “Is Donald Trump a good president?” or “Is the food on campus any good?” where strong opinions can emerge. I’m talking about things that are factually right or wrong like “Sylvester Stallone won a Golden Globe award” or “You can’t lose 50 pounds this weekend by eating a special brand of gummies infused with mystic herbs.”

I blame a lot of this on social media, not just because it perpetuates a lot of stupid content that is flat-out wrong, but also because the algorithms and such tend to reward louder, more confident, absolutist idiots. It’s always the “TOTAL PROOF THAT SELENA GOMEZ IS SECRETLY DATING A MARTIAN THAT ONLY AN IDIOT WOULDN’T UNDERSTAND OR SUPPORT!!!!” posts that do better than things with nuance and focus. Everyone is an expert, even though experts are among the most likely people a) not to be yammering on TikTok and b) to tell you that almost nothing is 100% certain.

Over the past few years, I’ve felt like I’m deprogramming ex-cult members in trying to get students to see beyond their self-assured sense of reality as they try to engage in journalism. As much as the recent political and social world has pushed us as journalists to not be objective and balanced, I think we need to actually push harder in that direction in regard to teaching students to report with a balance, but publish based on fact-checked accurate information.

A student once asked how I could do something like this with all the “bad people” in the world. I explained that every interview I did for a story, I tried to keep the door open in my mind to see what that person had to tell me. In some cases, that door was wide open, like when I would interview a fire chief about a fire or when I’d interview a nun about church safety.

In other cases, that door was hard to keep open, even a little crack, but I did it. In one case, I had to interview a guy who claimed to be the Grand Dragon of the Wisconsin KKK about his intent to stage a march on the Capitol for Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. All I really wanted to know was if the guy had a parade permit, as it was essential for attempting this act. The door was open a crack with the idea that he might tell me, “Yes, and here’s why a march is protected speech and here’s the inherent value of what we’re doing.” The first six seconds of the interview slammed that door shut when he used words I won’t repeat here, but the point is, even in the most likely scenario in which I could ABSOLUTELY say, “This guy is a chucklehead,” I gave it a shot.

 

GO WHERE THE STORY TAKES YOU: In talking with the former student, we hit on a piece he did about football and brain damage.

“That was the longest time I ever spent on a story,” he said, noting it took at least a year or so. The funny thing? When he got the initial call from one source about the topic of the NFL denying an old player benefits, he figured the story would take about two days.

A lot of students have a preconceived notion of where they think a story is going to go, which can be a good thing if that’s based on significant research. Still, good stories can have a lot of twists and turns to them, so keeping an open mind (see the above point) can really help those stories develop into what they actually are, as opposed to what we might want them to be. Those stories also tend to benefit the readers more, as they reveal things that they hadn’t previously considered.

 

Kash Money: FBI Director Patel sues the Atlantic over claims he’s a drunk (and what journalism students should learn from this situation)

Although this isn’t a great look for a guy accused of drinking to excess, the author of the Atlantic article on Kash Patel stated that this is among the least worrisome moments of his time as FBI director.

THE LEAD: Kash Patel is looking for cash money to the tune of about $250 million, after the Atlantic ran an article accusing him of being too drunk too frequently to run the FBI :

The F.B.I. director, Kash Patel, sued The Atlantic on Monday, accusing it of defamation over an article that claimed his excessive drinking and unexplained absences were putting his job in jeopardy.

The article, under the headline “The FBI Director Is MIA,” was published on Friday and detailed Mr. Patel’s behavior in his role leading the Federal Bureau of Investigation, citing more than two dozen anonymous sources. The author, Sarah Fitzpatrick, wrote that Mr. Patel’s conduct had “often alarmed officials at the F.B.I. and the Department of Justice.” The article said he “has also earned a reputation for acting impulsively during high-stakes investigations.”

Mr. Patel denied the claims in a statement to The Atlantic, which the article included.

THE BACKGROUND: Sarah Fitzpatrick’s article focuses on a string of incidents in which a long list of unnamed sources note that Patel was exhibiting all the textbook signs of an entitled frat boy. These allegations included:

  • He was drunk and missing a lot of work because of it.
  • He was drunk at his favorite local bar while hanging out with co-workers.
  • He frequently jetted off to Las Vegas, where he got plastered at another favorite hangout.
  • People had to rework his schedule to avoid early morning meetings because Patel was sleeping off the action from the night before.
  • He was too messed up to do his job when people tried to reach him, or they just couldn’t reach him at all.
  • He bragged about things that weren’t true, including misinforming the public about the capture of the Brown University shooter.

The White House issued a statement with a blanket denial of these allegations and Patel himself was quoted as saying, “Print it, all false, I’ll see you in court—bring your checkbook.”

 

IT’S ALREADY FIRST AMENDMENT 1, PATEL 0 IN DEFAMATION SUITS:  A judge has already tossed out one of Patel’s attempts at cowing the media based on allegations of defamation:

A federal judge in Texas has tossed a defamation suit brought by FBI Director Kash Patel against former FBI assistant director-turned-MSNBC contributor Frank Figliuzzi.

Patel had sued Figliuzzi over comments he made on “Morning Joe” about the FBI director’s evening activities.

“Yeah, well, reportedly, he’s been visible at nightclubs far more than he has been on the seventh floor of the Hoover building,” Figliuzzi said on the show last year.

<SNIP>

U.S. District Judge George Hanks Jr. (wrote) “Figliuzzi’s statement, when taken in context, cannot have been perceived by a person of ordinary intelligence as stating actual facts about Patel.”

“A person of reasonable intelligence and learning would not have taken his statement literally: that Dir. Patel has actually spent more hours physically in a nightclub than he has spent physically in his office building,” the judge added.

I’m glad about the verdict, but given what we’re seeing these days in terms of “reasonable intelligence and learning” out there, I’m worried where that bar will be set in the future.

 

WHY YOU SHOULD CARE AS A JOURNALISM STUDENT: This article and Patel’s suit provide a pretty interesting look at how defamation (or libel) tends to work or not work, as well as an opportunity to look into building stories like this. Here are some key issues:

UNNAMED SOURCES: This whole story is built on the backs of sources that Fitzpatrick did not name in the article. That is ALWAYS a huge risk in journalism for a variety of reasons. Source credibility comes into question, issues of people having axes to grind show up, sources who eventually get IDed might backtrack and leave you holding the bag… The list is pretty long and the dangers are pretty strong.

The things that make this a little more stable than many of the other stories that show up with an unnamed source along with a wing and a prayer are:

A) The volume of sources. Fitzpatrick is stacking people like cord wood in this thing, noting as many as a dozen people have corroborated the things she’s putting into her piece. If that is accurate, and I have no substantive reason to doubt it, that means this story has some stronger legs to stand on than most.

B) I go back to a conversation I had with my friend Allison, who covered the Chicagoland Catholic church molestation scandals of the early 2000s. I used to ask her how she knew for sure that the priests in her stories were serial pedophiles. The information she gathered came from the accusers, usually years or decades later, and was almost impossible to back up with documents or other “official source” content that I had gotten used to using in my own work.

Her answer was simple: She did a ton of digging, verified in every way she could and then she published the content and waited. In almost every case, if she published one or two accusations, she immediately heard from at least three or four other people who told her the same things had happened to them.

Cue the update from Fitzpatrick after her story ran:

“My response is that I stand by every single word of this report,” she said. “We were very diligent. We were very careful. It went through multiple levels of editing, review, care.

“And I think one of the things that has been most gratifying, after – immediately after the story published was, I have been inundated by additional sourcing going up to the highest levels of the government, thanking us for doing the work, providing additional corroborating information.”

The only way Fitzpatrick was going to get this story was by providing anonymity to her sources, so she took a risk. That said, it wasn’t a foolish risk, which is something to keep in mind when someone says, “Hey, I have a story for you, but you can’t use my name…”

 

A HIGH BAR TO CLEAR: As a public figure, Patel has to demonstrate that the Atlantic engaged in actual malice, as opposed to mere negligence, and that’s a pretty tough thing to do. As the folks at Poynter point out:

Can Patel actually be successful in his suit? Sure, anything is possible, but it’s unlikely.

During an appearance on CNN, Brian Stelter, CNN’s media reporter, said, “Actual malice is the very high legal standard that public figures have to prove in order to win a defamation suit. They have to prove that The Atlantic knew these claims were false or had a reckless disregard for the truth.”

This kind of goes back to the first point in a way: When you only have one anonymous/unnamed source, there’s a huge risk you are buying the Brooklyn Bridge and you should know better. When you have a dozen or more people telling you the exact same thing, it’s going to be hard to prove a vast conspiracy among those folks and the reporter, with them all knowingly trying to frame you for something.

It also merits pointing out that what makes for a public figure or not isn’t always easy, so it’s important to think about the stories you’re writing that might cast aspersions. Patel is obviously public, but if you’re writing a similar “too drunk to work” story about the school librarian or a local business owner, if things go south, this might be a concern.

 

GETTING SLAPP-ED AROUND: We have discussed the concept of Strategic Lawsuits Against Public Participation, or SLAPP, suits here before. The John Oliver/Bob Murray Suit was one of my favorite versions of SLAPP suits, primarily because not only was it so blatantly obviously meant to silence criticism, but also because it allowed me to use the name “Mr. Nutterbutter” in my textbooks.

As fun as this was, not every SLAPP suit involves two giant bankrolls fighting it out in court. In one case in Georgia, a prominent family sued a grocery worker with what was clearly a case of SLAPP. In another case, an Iowa newspaper almost went bankrupt defending itself against a libel suit that smacked of SLAPP. In that situation, a police officer sued the paper for accurately reporting his inappropriate relationships with teenage girls.

This brings to bear an unfortunate point: Just because you’re right, it doesn’t mean some yahoo won’t sue you to make your life miserable. What’s important to know before you go after a story is to what degree your media outlet will support you, to what degree you can accurately defend your work and to what degree you think the juice is worth the squeeze. Then, you can decide how to move forward.

In Patel’s case, it was obvious he would be coming after the Atlantic, and it was obvious the Atlantic had a big enough war chest to fight back. That said, these kinds of suits can create a chilling effect on quality journalists who want to do important work. It’s not supposed to happen in a society in which the First Amendment provides us with some of the best support in the world, but we do have to deal with the reality of our surroundings.

 

How to write the best obituary possible (A Throwback Post)

My reporting class today took a look at obituary writing, and I knew I wanted them to write something about the experience. Rather than having them write either a mock obit on a fake person or (perhaps more awkwardly) writing their own obituary, I asked them to simply tell me what they learned that they felt would be most important to remember when they eventually had to write an obituary.

Here were some of the more interesting ones:

“You have to be able to balance fact-based reporting with some of the aspects of a feature. Being accurate to the public record while being respectful of the memories that are being shared by the deceased’s loved ones can be tricky to do, but it is essential to writing a proper obituary.”

 

“Being overly flowery with word choice is not going to improve a poorly researched story.”

 

“It’s not just about having the facts right and accurately describing someone’s life. It’s also about getting the right vibes and the human elements of why that person matters and the impact they had.”

 

“I learned that when writing you want to focus on the life of the individual more than the death. This is important because you are not writing obituaries like a true crime story, but rather as a way for people to potentially connect to the fact that they knew this person, and also as a way for people close to the deceased individual to grieve in a manner that allows them joy.”

 

“I think it is important to understand and recognize when writing obituaries because it serves as a reminder to the journalist each time they are tasked with writing one, and don’t forget their human side when honing into their journalist side.”

 

With that in mind, here’s a throwback post that talks about the bigger issues in writing obits that we covered in the class today. Hope it helps.

Obituary Writing: Telling truths, not tales, in a reverent recounting of a life

In a discussion among student media advisers, one person noted that obituaries are probably the second-hardest things journalists have to do frequently. (The hardest? Interviewing family members about dead kids.) When a person dies, media outlets often serve as both town criers and official record keepers. They tell us who this person was, what made him or her important and what kind of life this person led. This is a difficult proposition, especially given that people have many facets and the public face of an individual isn’t always how those who knew the person best see him or her. Couple these concerns with the shock and grief the person’s loved ones and friends have experienced in the wake of the death and this has all the makings of a rough journalistic experience.

The New York Times experienced this earlier in the week when it published an obituary on Thomas Monson, the president of the Mormon Church. The Times produced a news obituary that focused on multiple facets of Monson and his affect on the church. This included references to his work to expand the reach and the population of its missionary forces as well as his unwillingness to ordain women and acknowledge same-sex marriages. The obituary drew criticism from many inside the church, leading the obituary editor to defend the choices the paper made in how it covered Monson. (For a sense of comparison, here is the official obituary/notification of death that the church itself wrote for Monson.)

You will likely find yourself writing an obituary at some point in time if you go into a news-related field.  Some of my favorite stories have been obituaries, including one I did on a professor who was stricken by polio shortly after he was married in the 1950s. I interviewed his wife, who was so generous with her recollections that I was really upset when we had to cut the hell out of the piece to make it fit the space we had for it. Still, she loved it and sent me a card thanking me for my time.

Some of my most painful stories have also been obituaries. The one that comes to mind is one I wrote about a 4-year-old boy who died of complications from AIDS. His mother, his father and one of his siblings also had AIDS at a time in which the illness brought you an almost immediate death sentence and status as a societal pariah. I spoke to the mother on the phone multiple times that night, including once around my deadline when she called me sobbing. Word about the 4-year-old’s death had become public knowledge and thus she was told that her older son, who did not have AIDS, would not be allowed to return to his daycare school. Other things, including some really bad choices by my editor, made for a truly horrific overall situation in which the woman called me up after the piece I co-wrote ran and told me what a miserable human being I was. She told me the boy’s father was so distraught by what we published that he would not leave the house to mourn his own son and that she held me responsible for that. Like I said, these things can be painful.

No matter the situation, there are some things you need to keep in mind when you are writing obituaries:

  • Don’t dodge the tough stuff: Your job as a journalist is to provide an objective, fair and balanced recounting of a person’s life. The Times’ editor makes a good point in noting that the paper’s job is to recount the person’s life, not to pay tribute or to serve as a eulogist. This means that you have to tell the story, however pleasant or unpleasant that might be. One of my favorite moments of honesty came from hockey legend Gordie Howe who was recalling the tight-fisted, cheap-as-heck former owner of the Detroit Red Wings:

    “I was a pallbearer for Jack,” says Howe. “We were all in the limousine, on the way to the cemetery, and everyone was saying something nice, toasting him. Then finally one of the pallbearers said, `I played for him, and he was a miserable sonofabitch. Now he’s … a dead, miserable sonofabitch.’”

    It’s not your fault if the person got arrested for something or treated people poorly. If these things are in the public record and they are a large part of how someone was known, you can’t just dodge them because you feel weird. Check out the Times’ obituary on Richard Nixon and you’ll notice that Watergate makes the headline and the lead. As much as that was likely unpleasant for the people who were closest to Nixon, it was a central point of his life and needed to be discussed. In short, don’t smooth off the rough edges because you are worried about how other people might feel. Tell the truth and let the chips fall where they may.

 

  • Avoid euphemisms: This goes back to the first point about being a journalist. You don’t want to soften the language or use euphemisms. People don’t “pass on” or “expire.” NFL quarterbacks pass and magazine subscriptions expire. People die. Also, unless you can prove it, don’t tell your readers that the person is “among the angels” or “resting in the arms of Jesus.” (Both of these euphemisms ended up in obituaries I edited at one point or another. They obviously didn’t make it to publication.) Say what you know for sure: The person died.

 

  • Double down on accuracy efforts: People who are reading obituaries about loved ones and friends are already on edge, so the last thing you want to do is tick them off by screwing up an obituary. I don’t know if this was just a matter of newspaper lore or if it was a real thing, but I was told more than once at a paper where I worked that there were only two things that would get us to “stop the presses:” 1) we printed the wrong lottery numbers and 2) we screwed up an obituary.
    True or not, the point was clear to me: Don’t screw up an obituary.
    Go back through your piece before you put it out for public consumption and check proper nouns for spelling and accuracy. Do the math yourself when it comes to the age (date of birth subtracted from date of death) and review each fact you possess to make sure you are sure about each one. If you need to make an extra call or something to verify information, do it. It’s better to be slightly annoying than wrong.

 

  • Accuracy cuts both ways: As much as you need to be accurate for the sake of the family, you also need to be accurate for the sake of the public record. This means verifying key information in the obituary before publishing it. The person who died might told family and friends about winning a medal during World War II or graduating at the top of her class at Harvard Law School. These could be accurate pieces of information or they could be tall tales meant to impress people. Before you publish things that could be factually inaccurate, you need to be sure you feel confident in your sourcing.
    Common sense dictates that you shouldn’t be shaking the family down for evidence on certain things (“OK, you say she liked to knit. Now, how do we KNOW she REALLY liked knitting? Do you have some sort of support for that?”) but you should try to verify fact-based elements with as many people as possible or check the information against publicly available information. Don’t get snowed by legends and myths. Publish only what you know for sure.

 

  • Don’t take things personally: Calling family, friends and colleagues of someone who just died can be really awkward and difficult for you as a reporter. Interviews with these people can be hard on them as well as hard on you. I found that when I did obituaries, I got one of three responses from people that I contacted:
    1. The source told me, “I’m sorry, but I really just can’t talk about this right now.” At that point, I apologized for intruding upon the person’s grief and left that person alone.
    2. The source is a fount of information and wanted to tell me EVERYTHING about the dead person. I found that for some of them, it was cathartic to share and eulogize and commemorate. It was like I was a new person in their circle of grief and they wanted to make sure I knew exactly why the person who died was someone worth knowing.
    3. The source was like a wounded animal and I made the mistake of sticking my hand where it didn’t belong. I have been called a vulture, a scumbag and other words I’ve been asked to avoid posting on this blog. One person even told me, “Your mother didn’t raise you right” because I had the audacity to make this phone call. I apologized profusely and once I hung up, I needed a couple minutes to shake it off. I knew it wasn’t my fault but it wasn’t easy either.

Your goal in an obituary is always to be respectful and decent while still retaining your journalistic sensibilities. It’s a fine line to walk, but if you do an obituary well, you will tell an interesting story about someone who had an impact on the world in some way. I like to think a story about this person who died should be good enough to make people wish they’d known that person while he or she was alive.

Reuters editor Jaimi Dowdell talks about the data team’s recent look at AI failures in medical procedures, how to do deep-dive stories and the importance of growth through discomfort as a journalist

The front page of the Reuters story on AI and medical usage.

The debate over artificial intelligence has dotted the pages of the blog significantly over the past year, with posts discussing the benefits some of these tools provide media professionals, as well as those mocking a number of the errors.

A recent deep-dive article from Reuters, however, took a look at the application of AI to the medical field, with some concerning results:

In 2021, a unit of healthcare giant Johnson & Johnson announced “a leap forward”: It had added artificial intelligence to a medical device used to treat chronic sinusitis, an inflammation of the sinuses. Acclarent said the software for its TruDi Navigation System would now use a machine-learning algorithm to assist ear, nose and throat specialists in surgeries.
The device had already been on the market for about three years. Until then, the U.S. Food and Drug Administration had received unconfirmed reports of seven instances in which the device malfunctioned and another report of a patient injury. Since AI was added to the device, the FDA has received unconfirmed reports of at least 100 malfunctions and adverse events.
At least 10 people were injured between late 2021 and November 2025, according to the reports. Most allegedly involved errors in which the TruDi Navigation System misinformed surgeons about the location of their instruments while they were using them inside patients’ heads during operations.
Cerebrospinal fluid reportedly leaked from one patient’s nose. In another reported case, a surgeon mistakenly punctured the base of a patient’s skull. In two other cases, patients each allegedly suffered strokes after a major artery was accidentally injured.

Among the names listed in the byline of this story is Jaimi Dowdell, one of the pros from the “Dynamics” textbooks and a frequent friend of the blog. 

Dowdell is a deputy editor of the data team at Reuters, a team she’s been part of for about eight years. In 2021, she received a Pulitzer Prize for Explanatory Reporting for the team’s look at qualified immunity. Prior to her time at Reuters, she worked for the St. Louis Dispatch and Investigative Reporters and Editors.

As this story was making the rounds, Dowdell was nice enough to share some insights about the story itself and her approach to investigative journalism. Below is a transcript of an email interview, edited for length and to make my questions sound less like they came from a goober:

 

We have talked over the years about how every story, big or small, has kind of an ideation point. What was it that had you all looking into the issue of AI and medical issues that led to this big story? (and how long did it take you to get it done?)

“I love this question because I think it’s fascinating how stories start. Rarely do we say, “I’m going to do a story about X” and it works out.

“This story began with a conversation with one of my colleagues. He had spent the past six months looking into issues surrounding artificial intelligence and he was interested in how patients were using AI chatbots to self diagnose. His idea of AI in the medical world got me thinking that AI must be impacting medicine in more ways.

“I had worked with the U.S. Food and Drug Administration’s database that tracks malfunctions and adverse events involving medical devices and knew that could be a resource. I then discovered the FDA had a list of AI-enabled medical devices. I started exploring the data and it wasn’t long before we felt like we had a story. We moved quickly from there. The entire process from reporting to editing and production took six months or less.”

What were some of the bigger “road blocks” you hit along the way and what made them problematic? How did you work around them or how did the inability to get past them impact the story?

We didn’t have many major roadblocks for this story. One of the challenges, though, was the technical aspect to the topic.

My colleagues and I spent a lot of time talking to people about the technology that goes into AI-enabled medical devices. I think we really had to understand that before we could write about it.

About ten years ago (damn, I got old fast…), when we were talking about your “Secrets in the Sky” series with the Boston Globe, you were telling me how there is a point where you have to figure out if the story is really there/worth it? You also mentioned that as a reporter you almost have to have a kind of “obsession” in getting the work done. Was that the case here for you and the team or was it something different this time?

“One of the best parts of my job is the time I’m given to explore topics. It’s a luxury that not many journalists have and I don’t take it for granted. During that exploration period, I often follow many leads and attempt to run down curiosities and questions. Then there’s that point we’ve talked about where you had to decide whether there is a story and it is worth it. For this story, that moment came quickly.

“Over the years I’ve learned that if you don’t have to work too hard to find examples that illustrate the trend or concept you’ve uncovered, there’s a good chance there is a story. There have been times when I’ve worked on ideas where it seems almost impossible to find more than one example. Does that mean it isn’t a story? Not necessarily, but it does indicate there may be a better use of your time.

“That wasn’t the case here. The growth we found in AI-enabled medical devices was the first indication there was a story. From there, it wasn’t too difficult to find examples of devices where potential issues had been flagged. Then, because all of this involves public health, it seemed an important and worthy topic in which to invest.

“And yes, there was an obsession. There’s almost always an obsession! I think that’s another indicator on whether the story is good or not. If I’m not ruminating about a story while exercising or waking up in the middle of the night with an idea, I might not have a great story. Is it healthy? Probably not. Each time I do a story like this, I think, ‘next time I won’t get so sucked in.’ But it always happens. I can’t speak for my colleagues on this story, but based on how often we spoke at all hours of the day, the obsession was there for them too.”

A lot of student journalists find a passion for doing bigger projects, but often find it to be frustrating because of a lack of resources or a lack of time. This might be especially true for those trying to meet work expectations of grinding out X number of pieces a month for student media or making class deadlines set by unreasonable professors. What kind of advice do you have for student or beginning journalists who want to try doing some of the deeper stories like the ones you do?

“The demands of unreasonable professors and the churn of student media is likely not that different from the professional world. There is a lot of news and there are a lot of demands on journalists these days. I didn’t start out getting to spend so much time on stories and neither did most of the journalists who do this type of work. But it can be done. I was able to dig deeper on stories even as a student and there are ways to get to do this type of work. Here are some suggestions:

  1. Don’t wait for permission. Too often, I see student or beginning journalists look to professors or editors to give them an assignment to dig deeper. If you wait, it’ll never happen.
  2. Be curious. Many of my stories started out because I just wanted to know something. Turn your own curiosities into a question or a hypothesis that reporting can help you answer and test. Do not think, “I’m going to do a story on this.” Instead, just work on being curious and looking for answers. The stories will reveal themselves to you in time.
  3. Start small. Instead of trying to do a big story right off the bat, include investigative elements into your regular work. For example, look for data that can help enrich a daily story. Start looking for source documents as you report. These small victories can lead to big stories down the road.
  4. Don’t be afraid of hard work. This type of journalism can be tedious and frustrating. If you’re feeling like it’s too hard, you might be doing it right.

If you could tell a student journalism kid anything about anything that you think would be helpful to them these days, what would it be? What would you like them to know?

“I’d say that none of us ever feels like we really have things figured out.

“I remember when I was in college, I looked forward to the days when I would know exactly what I wanted to do with my life. Guess what? It turns out we always feel a bit uncertain and we’re all basically kids.

“So get out there and embrace feeling uncomfortable. Whether you end up in journalism or something else, the growth, I’ve found, is often in the discomfort.”

Cleveland Plain Dealer honcho Chris Quinn took time out of his busy schedule to crap all over journalism schools about their views on AI, despite not actually knowing their views on AI

I hope the computer-based journalism helpers Chris Quinn is putting his faith in work better than the Cleveland Plain Dealer website. I tried to buy a subscription to view his diatribe about journalism schools and AI, only to have a spinning wheel of death show up for about a day or so…

THE LEAD: Chris Quinn, the VP of content for the Cleveland Plain Dealer, took a victory lap over the weekend, bragging about how he removed the writing requirements associated with journalism via “AI specialists,” while also telling journalism schools they suck:

Because we want reporters gathering information, these jobs are 100 percent reporting. We have an AI rewrite specialist who turns their material into drafts. We fact-check everything. Editors review it. Reporters get the final say. Humans — not AI — control every step.

By removing writing from reporters’ workloads, we’ve effectively freed up an extra workday for them each week. They’re spending it on the street — doing in-person interviews, meeting sources for coffee. That’s where real stories emerge, and they’re returning with more ideas than we can handle.

<SNIP>

Journalism programs are decades behind. Many graduating students have unrealistic expectations. They imagine themselves as long-form magazine storytellers, chasing a romanticized version of journalism that largely never existed.

That’s what they’re taught.

 

DISSECTION TIME, PART I: Let’s look at both Quinn’s arguments as well as take some time to disprove them, starting with his view of students and journalism programs:

The Strawman Student: Quinn’s piece begins with an exemplar of how students suck these days, especially because we teach them poorly at every journalism school in the country:

A college student withdrew from consideration for a reporting role in our newsroom this week because of how we use artificial intelligence.

It reminded me again how college journalism programs are failing to prepare students for the workforce.

I don’t have a reason to doubt Quinn that this kid exists, but I also have no reason to trust him. I’d like to see the withdrawal letter/email/voicemail the kid sent and I’d probably also like to talk to the kid.

See, Chris, sometimes people tell you stuff that isn’t true, like “I really wish I could make it to your party” or “The break up isn’t about you, it’s about me” or “It happens to a lot of guys and it’s not a big deal.”

Maybe this kid didn’t want to work for someone who saw their role in the newsroom as feeding grist into a mill for a robot overlord. Maybe they actually enjoyed writing, so giving up the part of the job they like wasn’t worth it to them. Maybe, and I say this as a huge fan of the sports teams, they didn’t want to move to Cleveland.

Could be a lot of things, but blaming it solely on your AI policy helps you nicely set up your argument that journalism schools suck.

 

The Incorrect Overgeneralizations: The bigger problem here is the leap from this one kid not liking something to all journalism programs failing all of the kids out there all of the time. Even if we pretend that this one alleged kid was so allegedly horrified at the Plain Dealer’s amazing-as-hell AI set up that they had to pull out immediately, it doesn’t follow that all kids in all schools are taught to hate AI. This is called negative social stereotyping.

Even if that feels like a bit of hyperbole, let’s at least agree that not every kid who comes out of a program is the exact same in terms of quality, maturity and expectations.

Also, I think we can agree that not every journalism program is created equal, so while the kids at University A might be using smudge pots to ward off the evil spirits used to power AI, kids at University B might be getting some good data journalism help, transcription services and other goodies, courtesy of AI.

Then again, maybe we can’t agree, given this generalization:

Like many students we’ve spoken with in the past year, this one had been told repeatedly by professors that AI is bad. We heard the same thing at the National Association of Black Journalists convention in Cleveland in August. Student after student said it.

Chris, did you bother to dig a bit deeper on this, because there are a few nuances that merit consideration. First, who were these professors? Were they in journalism or were they in departments where they’ve gotten used to grading 500-word essays that AI can now crank out in 18 seconds, thus putting the fear of God into these people?

What kind of AI was under discussion? Traditional AI? Generative AI? Did the professors state that certain AI programs are less helpful than others, or that relying solely on whatever content AI puked up was dangerous from a fact-based standpoint?

Did the professors explain the “black box” and “hallucination” concerns about AI? Did the professors show them example after example after example of how AI completely screwed the pooch, thus trying to help them see that you can’t just turn it loose and hope for the best? 

I’m also curious, given your disdain for journalism programs, where did the amazing Hannah Drown and Molly Walsh garner their educational pedigree that mixed the poli sci, business and non-profit knowledge you desperately want kids to have?

Oh… Yeah…

Given their background, I’m wondering how Hannah and Molly feel about this proud declaration you made:

Fortunately for those of us who know exactly what skills we need in applicants, AI has altered the landscape so dramatically that we don’t need journalism school grads.

We don’t need any damned JOURNALISM GRADUATES… Except, of course, the two we hired to do this work that we’re so proud of…

 

The Erroneous View of J-Schools: I’d like to know how many journalism programs Quinn visited in the past five years. A five-year span would cover the time frame where artificial intelligence would have become relevant enough for schools to start embracing a relatively stable set of AI tools.

I’d put the over/under at about three schools, and I’d advise people to take the under.

There are likely colleges that are shunning AI, but clearly many more are embracing specific aspects of these tools.

CUNY has an entire AI Journalism lab for professionals to come back and learn the ropes. Northeastern University is diving into the research and practical ends of AI with its AI Literacy Lab. The Medill School at Northwestern University has its Knight Lab to work on AI and media. Arizona State University has put a ton of resources into its work on AI and news innovation. University of Northern Colorado built a production course that teaches students how to meld AI and journalism effectively.

Stanford, UCLA, Atlantic International University, Florida and Columbia are just a few of the other schools that have Journalism-based AI courses on the books, and those are just the ones I found on through a cursory search. That’s not even counting all the programs (ours here included) that have infused AI into the current courses we have, so we can demonstrate the value of the tools while we teach caution as well.

(NOTE: If your school or your class does some AI stuff, feel free to pipe up in the comments section. I bet we could really make a run at the record for most comments on the blog.)

I not only teach about artificial intelligence in my classrooms, but I also include chapters on it in my books and provide basic exercises to educators that showcase its strengths and weaknesses.

What we have here is a collection of facts, supported by links to additional information. I’d like to think that’s a bit stronger case than Chris Quinn’s “Old Man Yells at Cloud” approach to generalizing about what’s wrong with journalism schools today.

 

The “Road Less Traveled” Advice: Quinn’s ignorant view on J-school is problematically compounded by his educational suggestions for kids who want to enter his glorious newsroom:

If you’re a student considering journalism, I’d skip that degree. Study political science. Learn technology. Understand how government, businesses and nonprofits work. Take communications law and ethics as electives. Skip much of the rest.

 

Got it. Just like you did back in the day! Right, Chris? Oh… Wait…

I don’t know if he’s going to be on College of Media and Communication Dean David Boardman’s Christmas card list this year, but I’d love to see Boardman’s reaction to this column… 

 

Aside from the “do as I say, not as I did” thing, if I wanted to tank a kid’s future, I’d pretty much tell that kid to do exactly what Quinn is saying here.

Technology changes so rapidly that whatever the kid learned in freshman year would likely be obsolete by graduation. You can learn tools, but it’s important to know the broader ways in which they should be applied to further your skills and connect with your audience. For example, in my day, we didn’t major in Quark XPress. We majored in design, used the tool in conjunction with our broader understanding of the field and then adapted to technology changes.

In addition, there’s a reason the phrase “Why try? Go Poli Sci” is still heard in the halls of many academic institutions. It’s also much more likely to be in the “paper law” as opposed to the “trial law” end of the spectrum. I’m not saying a certificate, minor or even double major in this is field is bad, particularly if you want to take your media skills into the political realm. However, you’re not making it to a newsroom solely on a steady diet of Politics and Genocide or Western European Politics courses.

I’d also like to know where Quinn thinks students are getting their interviewing skills, their social media experience or their general reporting knowledge in this newly formed major he’s promoting here.

Being forced to meet people takes effort, particularly based on how today’s generation of students has grown up in a digital-first, post-pandemic, borderline-anthropophobic world. Research suggests that nearly 45 percent of Gen Z men have never asked someone out on a date in person, so if Quinn is assuming this fresh crop of potential folks can do this without some reporting courses (still a thing) or other forced socialization, I’ve got some unfortunate news for him.

Also, com law might not matter much any more, if what’s happening in the real world is any indication…

 

DISSECTION TIME, PART II:  With that out of the way, let’s pick apart Quinn’s views on artificial intelligence and the glorious way in which it has drastically improved his newsroom:

AI! It’s FANTASTIC! (Usually):  Quinn has gone all-in on AI, which is always dangerous when it comes to a new technology. Actually, it’s usually dangerous in any situation, given that most new ideas suffer a lot of growing pains before they eventually become valuable, but so much less so than what was expected.

Still, he’s a fan:

Artificial intelligence is not bad for newsrooms. It’s the future of them. It already allows us to be faster, more thorough and more comprehensible. It frees time for what matters most: gathering facts and developing stories to serve you.

Anyone entering this field should be immersing themselves in AI.

I’ll buy faster, but I’m not entirely sold on the other descriptors here, given what we’ve seen AI mess up already. Dare I say Quinn is “chasing a romanticized version” of this technological marvel.

AI has fouled up a ton of content in some pretty awkward ways, including calling a guy “useless” in his own obituary, misnaming the city in which an NFL team resides, cliche-festing local sports stories and screwing up an entire development plan in a local news story. That’s not counting the number of times people got tricked by AI sources or generally misled by AI-generated content.

 

Words, Words, Words…: Quinn seems to take an almost perverse level of pride in how much content his staff members can grab and how none of them has to do any actual writing any more:

By removing writing from reporters’ workloads, we’ve effectively freed up an extra workday for them each week. They’re spending it on the street — doing in-person interviews, meeting sources for coffee. That’s where real stories emerge, and they’re returning with more ideas than we can handle.

I get that it’s important to do deeper reporting, spend more time with sources and connect with the communities journalists cover. However, the question becomes, “How much of all that good will and strong effort is wasted if you just toss everything in an AI blender and then watch the content move along like you’re “Laverne and Shirley” at the Shotz Brewery?”

Plus, and maybe Quinn doesn’t give a damn, but I’ve found that when I invest a lot in the reporting, I tend to care about the story I want to tell. That usually leads to some stronger, more engaging pieces based on well-crafted writing.

Being a writer isn’t a negative, particularly if you want to write for the benefit of an audience that is interested in what you have to say. I think I’m qualified to say that, given everything I sit down to write has me thinking, “Who would want to read this and what would they want to know?”

I’m not sure if AI has gotten to that point yet, but I know good writers have.

 

Quantity over Quality: I forget what movie it was in, but there was a scene in which prisoners were told, “We’ve got good news and bad news. The bad news is that all we have for your dinner tonight is horse manure.” When someone asks, “So what’s the good news?” the official replied, “There’s plenty of it.”

Which brings us back to the Plain Dealer’s Bin of AI Content…

A quick look at the list of stories Hannah Drown put together recently provides some sense of the quantity. Each day she appears to be on the job, a handful or more stories with her byline show up. She’s got coverage of events at the Lorain County Junior Vocational School, a UAW strike in the area, a pop-up shop at the Lorain Community College, a school lockout in Elyria and more. The volume is there.

The quality, however, leaves something to be desired.

These are mostly stories that could have easily come from a press release rewrite, featuring a “Hey, come check out this new thing” approach. These lack depth and nuance, not to mention any level of critical thought. The stories have overly long sentences, generally lack flow and are as dry as a popcorn fart.

For all the bragging Quinn does about reporters getting a chance to sit with sources, meet for coffee and chat these people up, most of the content comes straight from documents, not people. A look through more than a dozen of these pieces revealed virtually no direct quotes or specific references to interviews with these salt-of-the-earth individuals.

For example, a story about a school teacher who donated bone marrow to a complete stranger half a world away would seem to be exactly the kind of piece that would engage readers through amazing storytelling. Instead, we get this lead:

LORAIN, Ohio — Valentine’s Day usually arrives with candy hearts and roses, but this year, one of the clearest acts of love connected to the holiday came without flowers at all.

We get no direct information from the teacher about the experience, nothing from the folks at the National Marrow Donor Program talking about the value of the program and nothing from people who have had their lives saved through some of these selfless acts.

The story has zero quotes in it and reads like a “how-to manual” for getting on the bone marrow registry and donating it to someone. Boring doesn’t begin to cover it.

I’m not entirely sure I can blame Drown for this, as it is her job to just shovel content into the front end of the pipeline. It’s also not stated to what degree AI did any work on this (or any other) piece in her clip file, which I’d consider a bit of an ethical concern.

What I can say is that if my name were on these things, I’d want the writing to be a lot better than it is. As we’ve noted before, AI essentially creates an average of EVERYTHING it takes in, regardless of quality, and this definitely feels like “C” writing.

What goes unsaid in Quinn’s magnum opus is that people now have an abundance of media outlets at their disposal that provide vast sums of content. Journalists have to grab people by the eyeballs and hang onto them in a way that distinguishes their work from the noise.

This is where quality writing and keen storytelling come into play and where the generic “held a meeting” leads that AI can churn out will fail.

(FINAL NOTE: I’m sure Quinn would be horrified at the amount of time I spent writing this piece, given his “crank ‘er out” philosophy. I’m fine with it, though, because I believe dedication to one’s craft matters a lot, even if the point is just to tell someone they’re full of crap.)

You can call ‘This is How a Child Dies of Measles’ an act of ‘creative non-fiction,’ but where I’m from, we call it ‘lying’

The opening of the story about “your children” and “your” experience watching one of them die from the measles.

DISCUSSION STARTER: This is a good opportunity to have students read the story, “This is How a Child Dies of Measles,” before digging into this post to see how they feel about the approach, particularly if they are unaware of the truth of the story.

(The story is behind a paywall, so you might need to get creative to gain full access to it. Some school libraries have it on file, while some of you might have your own subscription. Maybe it’s even worth it to pay the $1 for six months thing and then cancel after the class. Just a head’s up in case you hadn’t planned for this.)

We did this a couple times over the years in my features classes, where they read the standard “almost journalism” stories of “Hack Heaven,” “Jimmy’s World” and “A Rape on Campus.”

Once they read through it and you make the reveal, a discussion about their thoughts, their concerns and maybe their willingness to do or not do something like this could be good. Then, if they want to pick through the blog post and argue with me, that could be fun, too.

 

THE LEAD: The story, “This is How a Child Dies of Measles,” by The Atlantic’s Elizabeth Bruenig has gained significant attention for the way in which it walks the readers through a child contracting the measles and eventually dying of it.

The problem? It’s fiction.

When I initially read Bruenig’s story, I was stunned: An Atlantic staff writer’s unvaccinated child had died of measles in the 2020s, and now she was writing about it? At the end of Bruenig’s piece, though, there’s an editor’s note: “This story is based on extensive reporting and interviews with physicians, including those who have cared directly for patients with measles.” That was the point when I sent a gift link to my mom group: “as far as I can tell this piece is fiction. What do we think about this choice? I am very conflicted!!!” My conflict stemmed from my concern that, though the piece was heavily researched, it was not a true story.

 

THE BACKGROUND: The story is written in second person and provides excruciatingly detailed information about everything from the way in which the illness can be passed among children, to the scene-setting elements of propping a kid up on a couch to watch “Bluey.”

Each paragraph provides the reader with a more and more desperate sense of inevitability in terms of “your” children suffering from to something we thought we had eradicated.

Given your son’s fever, runny nose, and evident discomfort, you feel a grim sense of resignation when his measles test comes back positive. You are, however, alarmed when you discover there’s nothing his doctors can do about it. Had he been seen by a doctor within 72 hours of his first exposure, they could have given him a prophylactic dose of the MMR vaccine to protect him from infection. But it’s too late for that now.

(SIDE NOTE: Few writing approaches are more jarring and risky than the use of second person. That’s true when it comes to simple things like, “UWO is hosting a blood drive and you should donate,” but even more so with big, complicated stories. 

I love Jay McInerney’s work from soup to nuts, but his novel “Bright Lights, Big City” is a massively painful read for me because “you” are the main character and “you” are doing stuff that, quite frankly, I can’t really imagine “me” doing, not the least of which is referring to a woman as “the sexual equivalent of fast food.”)

The finality of the piece is like one of those “Friday the 13th” movies: Just when you think this is all over, the terrifying specter rises again to finish off its victim:

For roughly eight years, you will believe that your family made it through this crisis without suffering a tragedy…

As the neurologist examines the results, she will note the presence of Radermecker complexes: periodic spikes in electrical activity that correlate with the muscle spasms that have become disruptive. She will order a test of his cerebrospinal fluid to confirm what she suspects: The measles never really left your son. Instead, the virus mutated and spread through the synapses between his brain cells, steadily damaging brain tissue long after he seemed to recover.

You will be sitting down in an exam room when the neurologist delivers the diagnosis of subacute sclerosing panencephalitis, a rare measles complication that leads to irreversible degeneration of the brain. There are treatments but no cure, the neurologist will tell you. She tells you that your son will continue to lose brain function as time passes, resulting in seizures, severe dementia, and, in a matter of two or three years, death.

After all that, you get kind of a semi-disclaimer that doesn’t exactly disabuse of you of the notion that this is real:

This story is based on extensive reporting and interviews with physicians, including those who have cared directly for patients with measles.

THE AUTHOR EXPLAINS: In a Q and A with the folks from the Nieman Lab, Bruenig walks through her approach to the topic and her decisions that led to the piece. She then makes kind of a sweeping statement about the greater good she feels she is doing with this fact-based fiction:

Owen: Where do you expect this piece to be shared and who do you expect to read it? Do you think people who choose not to vaccinate their kids will read it, and if so, how will they come across it? Have you heard any reactions from readers so far?

 

Bruenig: I have heard from several readers, one of whom had a heartbreaking experience with measles involving a family friend who died of the virus. People have been generally very encouraging! I have no doubt that there are a lot of people out there who are unhappy with the story or reject its premises, and they are entitled to their interpretations. I get it.
But my job is to report the truth about the world — and I use all kinds of literary, and narrative devices to do that. I do it because telling the truth is important in its own right, whether or not anyone finds it persuasive.

 

A FEW OF THE 932 REASONS THIS APPROACH WAS A BAD IDEA: First, let me say, I’m a huge fan of vaccines. Got all of mine, my kid got all of hers, my wife is a nurse who gets shot up like a dart board every year… This isn’t about the ethics or efficacy of vaccines, but rather the ethics and efficacy of this kind of journalism.

 

First Problem – Deception: Journalism is about fact-based reporting, which this piece has, but it’s also about providing information to the audience in an honest and trustworthy fashion. When we deceive the public, even if it’s for a good cause, we destroy the credibility we need to survive.

 

Bruenig says she’s reporting “the truth about the world,” which to me sounds both self-aggrandizing and disingenuous. She did rely on the facts as they related to the illness and she did draw from experts to understand how the illness works. However, and it bears repeating, WHAT SHE WROTE ABSOLUTELY DID NOT HAPPEN TO A KID IN THIS WAY.

 

This reminds me of when politicians would tell stories about “regular folk” who brought up dire concerns or who were traumatized by something specific. When journalists couldn’t find that “regular Joe Farmer” who lost everything thanks to a terrible government plan or that “regular Jane Business Owner” who had to give up her life savings to keep her staff paid, the politicians would always backtrack it and say it was an “amalgamation” of the stories they’d heard over the years.

 

In other words, they were lying, but hey… it’s the bigger picture that counts!

 

Then there’s this weird thing Chuck Schumer did, creating a fictional family based on the types of people he felt he represented:

 

 

I mean, yes, those kinds of people exist, and yes, those kinds of concerns are real, but again, you can’t just Frankenstein a bunch of pieces of people together and call it good.

Also, the supposed “disclaimer” doesn’t come right out and say, “This didn’t happen to one kid, but rather is a collection of all of the terrible stuff that can happen to an unvaccinated kid.” It’s almost like the author is trying to avoid accusations of writing fiction while doing as little as possible to make it clear that this literally did not happen.

When we are deceptive, we end up doing more harm than good. As I made the point in an earlier post, when my students read stories like “Jimmy’s World” and “A Rape on Campus,” they were angry, hurt, scared and otherwise emotionally wrought. When it came to light that Jimmy didn’t happen and that the attack on Jackie did not happen, they were really, really ticked off. They also felt less likely to trust the pieces they would read in the future.

As much as I prefer “non-denominational skepticism,” I definitely don’t want to prod it along with some borderline fraud.

Second Problem – Hyperbole: This comes back to the whole amalgamation of potential impacts issue, and how piling it all on to this one hypothetical kid is really overkill.

A number of the things she lists as symptoms of measles happen in many cases, ranging from the spots and fever to the cough and pain. However, when we get to the areas of pneumonia, we’re down to about 6 percent of all cases that end up here. Even more, the degenerative brain disorder that flares up years later happens to about 1 in 1,000 measles victims. In justifying the conclusion where “this is how your kid eventually dies,” Bruenig said:

I wanted to highlight this complication specifically because I sense that there’s widespread belief among anti-vax parents that since most healthy children will survive a measles infection, there are no important long-term consequences. But that’s simply not the case. Measles can seriously damage the body, and in rare and tragic cases, can result in death many years after the symptoms pass.

OK, but that’s a massive outlier for this disease and, again, that’s on top of the 83 other things that could or couldn’t happen that you saddled “your child” with in this story.

It would be like me stating, “I laid in the hospital, facing the grim specter of death. As the pain shot from my gallbladder, time ticked away in the day, each moment a chance I might die. Surgery, hours away, I pondered what would happen when my light was extinguished by an organ I’d long forgotten I had.”

Well, yes, I was in the hospital and yes, that gallbladder hurt like hellfire. And yes, if a person’s gallbladder ruptures, there is a chance the person goes septic and dies. However, that’s somewhere between 2 and 11 percent of all cases. I could make the argument that it was for the larger good that I painted this hyperbolic picture, hoping people will take gallbladder attacks seriously. However, I think most people would just say I was being a drama queen.

Third Problem – Laziness: I wholeheartedly believe in telling stories in journalism for the greater good of society. I also know there are an unfortunate number of children who have died after contracting measles. Telling a story about these deaths might inspire people to vaccinate, to change their minds about the severity of the illness or otherwise impact a broader discussion on the topic.

So, don’t be lazy. Go find an ACTUAL story of a measles death that happened to a REAL kid and tell that story.

Here’s one that even involves that rare illness that killed Bruenig’s hypothetical child:

That’s not to say you need to tell the story in this kind of staid news format. You can do more of the narrative work, using the parental recall, photos, medical records and expert interviews to paint a more vivid picture.

Strong interviews with the parents of a child can give you that emotional angst of anxiety, fear and despair. Spending time looking at photos can give you the “favorite blanket” and “watching Bluey” details that paint a picture in the readers’ minds. The experts can walk you through the files so you can describe in detail how each cough wracked the child with pain or how the fever created a mix of burning and chills that couldn’t be sated.

This takes a ton of work. You have to find a case where a kid died, you have to find parents willing to talk, you have to find experts who understand what happened to the kid and you have to spend time gathering granular-level elements through observation. Doing this also puts the reporter at risk of some significant emotional trauma, as they relive the death of a child in such a gut-wrenching way.

So, I can kind of see how it’s more appealing to just go to a handful of experts who can give you the clinical stuff and then just whip together a “Hypothetical ‘You’ Mom” character to tug at the emotional heartstrings of the readers, without fully acknowledging that’s what you did.

However, if you want the reward of the tough story, you really have to take the risks associated with the tough story. Doing it this way only codifies the certainty of people who don’t already believe you and undercuts your standing with people who do.

“He put himself in that situation:” The reason why people can justify the shooting death of Alex Pretti

In reading through the articles and posts related to Saturday’s shooting death of Alex Pretti in Minnesota, I forgot the most basic rule associated with the internet:

“Don’t read the comments.”

However, in digging into the comments and hopping amongst media bubbles, I found a few trends in terms of people who usually support the Second Amendment and the right to carry and how they squared the circle involving Pretti’s death:

  • Pretti was threatening the officers with a gun, and the officers had the right to defend themselves.
  • Pretti put himself in harm’s way as a purposeful instigator, thus leading to his untimely death.
  • Pretti had the right to carry and the right to record their actions, BUT when he chose to interfere with law enforcement, he forced the officers’ hand in terms of use of force.

(There are tons of other claims, including one weird-as-hell, AI-photo with Pretti wearing a female body suit made of tattoos and a set of curled horns, but this trio is among the most common.)

If you are asking the question right now of, “How in the hell can people believe this stuff, when we can all see the DAMNED VIDEO?” I have an answer that starts with some research I did about 20 years ago that reflected this dichotomy perfectly.

A few of the front pages that I still have from these two shooting deaths. I was the adviser for the Ball State Daily News in the early 2000s.

THE HISTORY: During my first year at Ball State University as the student media adviser for the Daily News, the campus had a number of students who died in some shocking ways. The two at the heart of this discussion are Michael McKinney and Karl Harford.

In November 2003, McKinney was  21-year-old student at BSU. He spent a Saturday night drinking with friends at some near-campus bars and had planned to stay at one of those friends’ homes, rather than driving home that night.

In his inebriated state, he went to the wrong home and banged on the back door to get let in. The home owner called 9-1-1 to report this person trying to force their way into her home and Ball State police officer Robert Duplain responded. Duplain was 24 years old and had been on the force for 7 months. He had not yet attended the Indiana Law Enforcement Academy when this incident occurred.

Duplain entered the fenced backyard of the home through the only access point and confronted McKinney, who attempted to flee. Duplain shot several times, hitting McKinney with four rounds and killing him.

Subsequent investigations found no wrong-doing on the part of Duplain, who returned to the force briefly before resigning.

Less than six months after that shooting, on March 6, 2004, 20-year-old Ball State student Karl Harford was found shot to death in his car, which was abandoned on the city’s east side.

Police investigations determined that Harford was at a campus party when he offered three individuals a ride home. Experts later stated that Harford had a blood alcohol content of 0.16, which would be twice the legal limit for driving and would have likely impaired his judgment. One of the men had a gun, which he used to force Harford to drive to an abandoned building. The three men forced Harford to his knees, robbed him of $2 and shot him to death. The trio then stuffed his body into the backseat of the car and fled.

Police eventually arrested Brandon Patterson, 18, Damien Blaine Sanders, 21, and a 14-year-old juvenile in connection with the killings. Patterson and Sanders had previous interactions with law enforcement that involved incidents of car theft and gun possession. Patterson pleaded guilty to a “robbery resulting in severe bodily injury” charge and was sentenced to 45 years in prison. Sanders pleaded guilty to robbery and murder and received 85 years. The 14-year-old was held for 15 months in a juvenile facility and subsequently released.

THE RESPONSES: The Daily News covered both shootings extensively and the online coverage drew readership that was disproportionately large in comparison to all other stories the paper had posted at that time. In addition, the comment sections under the stories for these pieces were extremely active.

Many of the responses to the McKinney story had people offering sympathy to Duplain as well as McKinney. People were saying things like, “Rest in Peace, Mikey,” but also things like, “I feel bad for that officer who has to live with this for the rest of his life.” Others noted how this was a “senseless tragedy.”

What I remember most, however, was the way in which a good number of posters were trying to hang some, if not all, of the blame on McKinney. People had commented that he was “way too drunk” and that “he put himself in that situation.” Some people speculated that he had something in his hand that could have been mistaken as a gun. Others noted that he “rushed” at Duplain, leaving the officer no choice but to fire his weapon.

Things kept getting uglier as time went on, with people saying negative things about McKinney and even how he was raised. I still remember one post that McKinney’s sister, Rosie, put on one of the stories, begging people to just stop this, as her parents were seeing all of these negative statements. The posters then turned on her.

In the case of Harford, the commenting was much more cut and dried. Harford was the victim and “those cold-blooded murderers should pay.” Rarely did any of the comments deviate from this pattern and the few that did were quickly shouted down by other posters.

THE STUDY: In all honesty, these shootings devastated the Ball State community, and I know my heart just bled for these families who lost these children. As is the case with most things, when I am in a state of difficulty, I tend to dig into the topic and do some writing (thanatology researchers call this “instrumental grieving), so I looked into doing a study. My buddy Pritch and I decided to look at why it was people reacted so differently to these killings via their online media posts.

I won’t bore you with the details of the study, but if you want to download it and read it, you can grab it here.

Sufficient to say, the statistical data bore out the general vibe we sensed: People in the Harford postings were much more dichotomous in where they placed sympathy (Harford, his family, his friends) and where they placed blame (Patterson, Sanders and the 14-year-old). Meanwhile, the sympathy and blame were much more spread in the case of the the McKinney posters who were much more willing to blame McKinney for his own demise while also feeling sympathy for Duplain.

The “why” came to us from two areas of research: Human cognitive processing and the way in which news stories (especially crime stories) tend to follow “scripts.”

The Harford situation fit a stereotypical news-as-script pattern to a T: White kid, trying to do a good thing, meets with criminal black element that is his undoing. Police find the evil-doers who are subsequently punished.

The McKinney situation doesn’t do that. McKinney was a white kid who got shot by a white cop. Nobody was arrested and nobody eventually was punished for it.

For the people reading this story, there was suddenly a cognitive disconnect: Good white people don’t get killed by white cops for no reason. Also, deaths like this need some form of resolution, in which blame and punishment are effectively assigned. This situation didn’t fit into the expected patterns of action, so people desperately sought SOMETHING the rationalize why this happened.

(NOTE: We couldn’t code for race, but a number of people did mention their own race in posts and it was almost entirely a white audience. We did see that amplification of  both the racial element between the situations as well as finding it easier to sympathize with Duplain as as well. We had a whole section on that, but any academic will tell you, a lot gets cut on the way to publication, thanks to anonymous reviewers.)

When something terrible happens and it doesn’t fit the patterns pre-established in people’s minds, they need to make sense of it and that usually means they bend reality to fit their assumptions:

O’Sullivan and Durso (1984) found that when information being processed ran counter to the established understanding of how a situation was supposed to unfold, individuals did not alter their perception of what should be happening. Instead, they attempted to cognitively reposition the new information to make it congruent with the prior script.

Goleman’s (1985) work also shows that when individuals are faced with an anxiety-provoking alteration to their standard scripts, they actively seek ways to block information or rationalize it in a manner that allows them to return to their comfort zone.

In short, people aren’t going to change their minds when something like this happens. They’re going to change reality to fit what they believe.

BACK TO PRETTI: In bringing this around full circle, a lot more of what people who want to rationalize Pretti’s death are saying starts to make sense. In this world view at least a few of these things are held as fact:

  • Law enforcement officers are the “good guys.”
  • People have a legal right to safely carry guns, as per the Second Amendment.
  • White people and U.S. citizens = good, Non-white and non-citizens = bad

So, when you have a white, citizen who is legally carrying a fire arm that gets killed by law enforcement officials, now what? The thinking has to start shifting the reality.

Just like McKinney, Pretti must have done something wrong to provoke the shooting.

Just like McKinney, Pretti shouldn’t have been there in the first place, so it’s really on him.

Just like Duplain, these officers clearly had to act defensively because they had a reasonable fear of what this individual might do.

The more I read the Pretti coverage, the more I found myself finding parallels to what happened with McKinney.

  • In both cases, stories trying to find “more dirt” on the victim hit the press: A recent story on Pretti said he had previously scuffled with the feds, leading to a broken rib. (DHS says it has no record of this.) A story after McKinney’s death said he had previous encounters with police, including one leading to a charge being filed against him. (That turned out to be a ticket he received for trying to steal a STOP sign for his room.)
  • In both cases, the families were pleading with people to stop smearing their kids. The NY Times presented this piece quoting those who knew Pretti, while I remember what Rosie McKinney went through in regard to the postings about her brother.
  • In both cases, the official narrative painted the shooters as having absolutely no choice but to respond in the way they did.

Even more, as evidence continues/continued to come out in cases like these, people continue to find ways to bend the reality to fit their narrative. For example, a preliminary DHS investigation did not state that Pretti “brandished” his weapon, directly conflicting with DHS Secretary Kristi Noem’s original statements. However, that hasn’t stopped people from pressing the point in comment sections that Pretti put himself in harm’s way or that the officers had no choice but to shoot.

Then, there are people like this guy at NewsMax who are stretching reality a little more.

This is why no matter which side of the issue continues to gain ground, there will still be people with a strong attachment to seeing things the way that best fits their prior beliefs. Expecting something different is to expect human nature to change.