NPR’s Snit-Fit
If the snit fits, wear it!
Jim: Charlie, I’m a bit puzzled by National Public Radio’s decision to quit posting its news reports on Twitter. It seems that Elon Musk angered NPR honchos when the social media platform he controls publicly labeled the network’s main Twitter account “state-affiliated media.” Isn’t that the same thing that used to happen at our former newsroom, the Chicago Tribune, when advertisers didn’t like a story we published (usually one about them or their industry) and yanked their ads? I get the anger. Musk, who seems to be either saving or destroying the widely used site, placed NPR in the same category Twitter uses for media outlets controlled by thugs such as Vladimir Putin. In an interview, Musk said the label more accurately described NPR, but Twitter later softened the label by changing the designation to “government-funded media.” NPR CEO John Lansing didn’t back off. He says Musk was trying to diminish NPR’s credibility with his ham-handed move. Both labels, NPR says, are inaccurate since network that feeds more than 1,000 radio stations in America gets only a sliver of money from the federal government.
I understand Lansing’s anger, and NPR, like anyone, has the right to cancel its 52 Twitter feeds. Musk is not innocent, either. He loves to pick fights with the media to get his name in the headlines. As journalists, though, I didn’t think we were in the business of denying the public information, even if we don’t like the forum or its owner. We certainly didn’t quit airing stories about department store chains when they cancelled their ads. Usually if someone publishes something with which editors find fault, I think the proper response should be to provide more accurate information, not less. Maybe NPR, like many others in the media, have embraced practices that differ from the days when I was an editor. There’s quite a bit of that going around, particularly among younger journalists who think we didn’t serve readers well with our devotion to so-called “objective” news. Am I just out touch, Charlie?
Charlie: Well, I don’t think you are out of touch (or me) but we do have to understand that the younger generation views us as fossils that belong in a national museum of ancient media. We are uncool by definition and not relevant as participants in much of anything, save for advocating for better Social Security benefits. We come from a generation of journalists who wanted to tell everyone everything as quickly as we could, but in the context of some clearly defined rules about what you could and could not do. Libel law, privacy laws, fair play, those were the things we discussed each day. Our mistake was not letting people see how that worked so they could understand what we were trying to do.
We made too many of our decisions in a closed room with no one watching. But at least we decided. That kind of professionalism has not blossomed across the Internet, where apparently, anything goes.
Most traditional media outlets still operate by a set of standards, but none of that seems to hold much weight with the mob that wants to define news its own way. In that context, I think NPR is making a mistake by not posting its news on Twitter. NPR is a reliable voice with high standards for accuracy and fairness, very old fashioned things in the sparkling, uncontrollable universe of modern media. Its job is to speak honestly to as many people as it can reach, and Twitter reaches a lot of people. NPR risks slipping into a category that knows exactly which pronoun to use in every circumstance and is proper in every way, but buys into a snit-fit over how it is described that limits the spread of its voice. The great eye opener for old media types was seeing how much power technology brought to media. It is a liberating game-changer, but not if news media falls into a trap where it lets a criticism turn its head. It would have been much better to simply ignore Musk and his characterizations and press on with the mission. And if that requires a headlong rush onto Twitter, so be it. Jim?
Jim: Unfortunately, I think you’re right about the generational divide in journalism and that’s too bad. From the younger journalists I know (and I don’t know enough of them), I believe their goal is no different than ours. They want to inform the public as much as we do but their methods and practices sometimes differ. We worked hard and fought daily behind the closed doors to select the right stories to put in a newspaper based on standards of fairness, balance and, yes, the now foreign concept of objectivity. Marty Baron, the former editor of the Washington Post and Boston Globe, recently published a great essay on the meaning of objectivity, or the active pursuit and inclusion in the news of ideas and beliefs that challenge preconceived notions. The definition never was the “he says she says” that some younger journalists use to define us. Most of the journalists I worked with were principled men and woman who risked their lives and reputations fighting for the kind of journalism they believed in. We took our jobs seriously. What really worries me now is the division in our ranks precisely at a time when we are about to be hit with a tidal wave — Artificial Intelligence, the most powerful and transformational development I’ve seen in my decades as a journalist. Even the media baiter Mr. Musk warns that AI could have dire consequences for everyone. People need to hear his voice on Twitter and on NPR.
Charlie: I have to invent a phrase here. I think NPR Is playing a “I’m-taking-my-ball-and-going-home-ism,” that makes them look weak kneed in the face of criticism. I recall watching a Panamanian police unit called “The Dobermans,” pound the hell out of a gathering of ancient ‘Trotskyites’ (Who the hell even knows what that is now?) on the Avenue of Independence in Panama City, which I reported with as much discipline as I could muster, given the cops gassed me and the Trotskites managed to get the rocks they were tossing at the cops just far enough to hit me! It was not cold, dispassionate reporting. It was bitter and personal. You could tell exactly how I felt about my situation. I don’t think it ever got published in the paper, because the paper had standards, and how I felt about what I witnessed was not part of them. I didn’t apologize to the cops, to the Trotyskites or even to my superiors on the desk who lectured me about the need to “BE OBJECTIVE!” Screw that! What is deeply wrong is deeply wrong, no matter what your role is in witnessing it. If you are going to be a reporter, or a news service for that matter, you have to put up with all kinds of crap from the inside and the outside. Editing your raging passions is part of that. As miffed as I was at everybody, I knew the paper was right. I needed to be controlled because my passion was getting in the way of my responsibilities. NPR should grow up and recognize that criticism is a reality in a free society. What Elon Musk says doesn’t matter, no matter how much money he has. Your obligation to tell the truth to as many people as possible — which means taking full advantage of social media, moves far beyond that. Do your damned job, NPR!
—James O’Shea and Charles Madigan
James O’Shea is a longtime Chicago author and journalist who now lives in North Carolina. He is the author of several books and is the former editor of the Los Angeles Times and managing editor of the Chicago Tribune. Follow Jim’s Five W’s Substack here.
Charles Madigan is a writer and veteran foreign and national correspondent for UPI and the Chicago Tribune, where he also served as a senior writer and editor. He examines news reporting, politics and world events.