Ethics 101—Part 2

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Making ethical calls ain’t so easy

By Ted Pease

Last time in this column, I challenged readers to act as editors and make some of the kinds of ethical judgments on hypothetical news stories that journalists confront every day (see column here).

The four hypothetical stories came from the Hartford (Conn.) Courant, which conducted the same experiment with its readers some years ago. The stories dealt with the kinds of decisions pitting individual privacy vs. the public’s “right to know” that often drive both editors and readers nuts. Making these kinds of news decisions — how much of what the reporter knows should be published? — gives journalists ulcers and leads to the myth of journalistic cynicism and insensitivity.

Much of journalistic decision-making involves placing a situation on a ethical teeter-totter, balancing what is often a complex set of facts and judgments in deciding what runs in the paper or on the evening news. Do we give people what we think they need to know? What they seem to want to know? What rules do we begin with — tell everything we know? Or, if not, where are the lines drawn about what to reveal and what to hide? And who are we journalists, anyway, to play God and decide not to tell citizens in a free society everything? Or, who are we to play God and decide to reveal facts that may be personally painful to the subject of a story, even if those facts might be relevant to a social issue that’s important to the community?

Those were the questions at the core of the four hypothetical news stories I offered to local readers two weeks ago. In my media ethics class at USU, students had dealt with the same cases, and I thought readers might find the exercise interesting as well. Many did, and so here are the responses of readers and editors in Hartford, when the experiment first ran, and some comments from USU students, local readers and Herald-Journal staffers.

CASE 1 concerned whether to publish the name of a victim in a rape case that had come to trial in public court. Readers may recognize the hypothetical story as one based on a real story of a gang rape of a woman in a New Bedford, Mass., tavern some years ago; that story was later made into a movie starring Jodie Foster.

The question was whether to identify the woman once the trial began and other news outlets, including the local cable station, had already published her name. Most newspapers have a policy against identifying victims of sexual assault, under the premise that such people — usually women and children — already have been victimized enough by the crime and should not be held up to public “shame.” On the other hand, some news organizations have struggled with this absolute rule, arguing that it is a throw-back to Puritanism that stigmatizes the victim just because of the crime’s sexual nature. Others argue that such policies deprive the accused of their rights to confront their accuser.

In this case, H-J readers and my ethics students resoundingly said the victim should not be identified. “Just because other newspapers have no scruples, does that mean we don’t either?” one student wrote. Hyrum resident Steven R. Rich took the time to write a letter in response and said he would not publish the woman’s name: “Are your ethics situational or real?” he asked. But Greg Merrill, a Logan media broker, said, “Yes, the woman’s name is already known to the public and the court has placed no order prohibiting.”

Gary Frodsham’s email message said: “I would expect almost any media outlet to make a point of naming this victim. However, I personally think it would be wrong to do so without her approval. My answer is based on the general belief that the victims of crime should have the right to privacy.”

Mark Brunson, a former journalist-turned-professor of forest resources at USU, wouldn’t run the name either, but was troubled by the scenario. “It’s always made me uncomfortable that we go out of our way to protect the privacy of rape victims, but have no way to protect the privacy and reputations of rape defendants who are victims of false accusations,” he said.

The two members of the H-J staff who responded to the survey, city editor Mike Wennergren and reporter Cindy Yurth, both said they would not publish the name. Yurth wrote, “Several wrongs don’t make a right.”

My own position is that rape victims’ names should not be published. But I’m uncomfortable with the distinction between sexual assault victims and the victims of other violent crimes, who routinely are identified.

In the original Hartford Courant survey, the results were:
1. Would publish victim’s name: Readers 21%; Editors 30%
2. Would not: Readers 78%; Editors 60%
3. Don’t know: Readers 1%; Editors 10%

CASE 2 involved a member of the town council who is raped, and then says she is rethinking her long-standing opposition to fund a rape crisis center. The options were to publish a story on the assault and her change of position because it is an important public-policy matter; to refer to an “assault,” and say that she is rethinking her position, which suggests the nature of the attack; or to report the crime and wait until an actual vote on the crisis center.

“Interesting problem,” said Brunson. “My first inclination is to try to convince the town councilor that she can’t do the story halfway without leaving the matter up to intense public speculation.”

The H-J’s Wennergren said he would not disclose the rape, but saw the change of policy as important. But reporter Yurth wanted to wait for a vote.

“Why can’t you just report the change without connecting the assault?” asked Hyrum reader Steven Rich. “Is it really necessary to traumatize the person further?”

My ethics students were divided, but saw the assault and the policy question as different stories: It’s important to public safety to make readers aware of crime, they reasoned, but it’s wrong to identify rape victims. On the other hand, the most important issue for the community is the possibility of a rape crisis center. “We are torn on this issue,” wrote senior Amy Bria for her discussion group.

For myself, I don’t want to stigmatize the council member, and would try to discuss with her the importance of discussing the larger issue openly.

The Hartford responses:
1. Report the whole story: Readers 32%; Editors 20%.
2. Refer to the assault, and report that she is rethinking her position: Readers 49%; Editors 40%.
3. Wait for the council vote to report the story: Readers 12%; Editors 0%.
4. Don’t know: Readers 7%; Editors 40%
(This result is troublesome to me. How can 40% of editors not know what they would do? Are their ethics on the clock? are they just too tired?

CASE 3 involved the anti-drug mayor’s 19-year-old son, who is arrested for possession of varying amounts of drugs. The comikcs in my ethics class suggested 2-inch headlines across the top of the front page: “MAYOR’S SON SNARED IN DRUG RING!!!!” perhaps with a sub-headline: “Offspring Betrays Crime Crusader in Dad’s Rec Room!” But on reflection, most wanted to follow standard policy on reporting such arrests.

That was the reader response as well: “Just because it is the mayor’s son has nothing to do with the story,” argued reader Merrill. “If you build a story around the fact that the mayor’s son was arrested, etc., when the paper’s policy is not to print similar types of arrests, then this is not good journalism but simply sensationalism.”

From the H-J newsroom, Cindy Yurth suggested running the story on page 3 if the arrest was for using drugs, but page 1 if it was for dealing.

I agree. The political connection only confuses the issue. As reader Steven Rich says, “The only reason I can think of to give it front-page coverage is if you are trying to destroy the mayor.” Like all such crime stories, where this runs depends on its severity: a major cocaine arrest in Logan would rightly be page 1 stuff, but misdemeanor possession is barely noticed.

But Hartford readers and editors were a bit harsher in their judgment: 90-100% of readers and editors alike would run the drug dealing story prominently, but two-thirds of them also would run the possession stories up-front, too.

Finally, CASE 4 concerned a “prominent local businessman” caught having embezzled $10,000 from a local charity that he heads. He pleads with you not to run the story because his wife’s in the hospital, and the news would “surely kill her.” And he begs you to let him make restitution without running the story.

Most local readers wanted to wait for police to file formal charges before running anything. “But as soon as the charges are filed, the story is going to be printed,” one of my students wrote. “No one would talk to the doctors. We found this laughable.”

H-J editor Wennergren wanted to go with the story immediately: “The newspaper is an information-providing enterprise, not a prosecutorial agency.”

But others were concerned that reporters in this case might be driven by the desire for a scoop, and so would rush to publish. “I think ’way too many cases have been unfairly tried in the media,” Hyrum reader Rich said.

Reader Frodsham agreed: “Maybe we need to rethink our current conclusion that ‘the public has a right to know’ about all our personal tragedies.”

For myself, though, if I can confirm the embezzlement — and it appears that the businessman is admitting it to the reporter — I get comment from the cops and run the story.

In Hartford, the responses were:
1. Run the story now: Readers 20%; Editors 40%
2. Wait and talk to the wife’s doctors first: Readers 47%; Editors 40%
3. Let him pay back the stolen money: Readers 30%; Editors 10%
4. Don’t know: Readers 3%; Editors 10%

It was an interesting exercise, but one that made some readers queasy. Among them, H-J managing editor Charles McCollum, who declined to participate. “I find questions of journalism ethics too gut-wrenching to take on voluntarily,” he said. “I have enough real, in-your-face decisions to deal with daily to torture myself further with hypotheticals.”

That’s where many working journalists live as well: This is important work, necessary to an informed society, but it ain’t easy.

Mark Brunson, the former reporter now a USU professor of forest resources, put it this way: “One of the reasons I got out of journalism was that I wasn’t sure the public good was served by some of the invasions of privacy people had to suffer on my account.

“I’m distressed by what I see as a decline in human decency in our society, and feel that one of the reasons for this is media competition for stories of questionable benefit to society,” Brunson added. “I suppose that if all journalists were so timid, we’d probably be worse off as a nation. But I also believe that we’re worse off still if a lot of us don’t opt for civility over sensation.”

Amen.

(This column first appeared in the Logan (Utah) Herald-Journal on 5/25/97.)