In science, self-satisfaction is death. — Jacques
Monod
As Features
Editor for the Cape May County Herald during the housing boom of the early
2000s, I assigned a story on lumber alternatives for new housing construction
to a relatively new assistant.
Several days
after I assigned the story, he turned in (what he thought was) the finished
product. His 1,200 words praised a new, sustainable wood source that was not
widely available and used by only three builders in the entire county—all of
whom he had interviewed for the article.
“Why,” I asked,
“are there only three companies using this material?”
“it’s just too
expensive,” he replied quite assertively.
“Then you should
state that in the article,” I said. “Plus, I see where you only interviewed
three people—in fact, the only three that use this lumber.” I handed the paper
back to him. “Now get me some interviews with contractors that don’t use the material, and find out
why. In essence, get their side of
this.”
The kid was damn
mad about this. “How many more contractors do you want?” he demanded.
“Well,” I said
in my best avuncular tone, “you got three that use the stuff; now get three
that do not.”
As he continued
to silently stare at what he apparently thought was his completely unreasonable
editor, I told him what all
journalists should know, but most of whom must constantly be reminded: “A
newspaper’s job is to be objective,” I said. “Give both sides of the story, if
you will. When we stop allowing both sides of an argument to plead their case,
we lose credibility.”
He added two
more interviews with contractors that had decidedly opposite views to the first
three, making the overall article (somewhat) more impartial. But for the rest
of his time under my supervision, he held my proclivity for fact-finding
against me.
He wasn’t a
journalist; never really let himself develop into one. You can study
journalism, you can be trained as a journalist, but unless you develop a
journalist’s heart…
Having spent my
early grammar school years within walking distance of Independence Hall, my
journalist’s heart was nurtured on the history of the United States. That heart
experienced its first cardiovascular contractions when I learned of what went
on at those antique desks inside the hall (we could sit in them in the early
1950s) back in 1776. It experienced a shot of adrenaline when I studied the
Constitution a short time later, and settled into a steady rhythm by the time I
read—and understood—the Bill of Rights.
But just as with
physical cardiac health, you need a journalistic EKG once in a while to make
sure you’re not suffering from arrhythmia. The Philadelphia Inquirer provided
me with an unscheduled checkup on page A27 of their June 13 edition. In an
article unabashedly titled, “Don’t give equal time to climate-change deniers,” the
author, an environmental professor at a local college, proposes that the media
close off any further discussion because, he wrote: “There is only one side of this story.”
He—like my young
editorial assistant mentioned above—displayed his indignation at an unnamed
news organization that aired a segment on global warming which presented those
who said we should be concerned, and those who held the opposite view. Imagine!
They actually presented both sides of an
argument!
“Sure,” the author admits, “they (media) want to
provide a balanced view. But not all stories have two sides.”
Aren’t
scientists supposed to welcome skepticism? Isn’t that what true science is
about—questioning?
Hopefully, the
Inquirer—operated by open minds responding to the pulse of journalistic
hearts—will ignore the climate-change author’s plea, because he has apparently
flatlined.
