As I sat at my desk in a vague cerebral search for answers to a perplexing question, my gaze settled on two objects on my bookshelf. Far from providing those answers, the small artifacts were stark reminders of the complexities of the challenge I had set myself.
The objects were a small brass rendition of the Three Wise Monkeys and a piece of iron pyrites. The question I had set myself: What is journalism?
The presence of the small objects suddenly brought home to me the paradoxes I was confronting in trying to define an endeavour whose current public perception is, itself, adrift in an ocean of contradictions.
My Wise Monkeys exhorted me to See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil. In all the years since they were given to me by my mother on my first day in journalism, it has been a metaphorical reminder of the values that journalists must apply to their work. Yet reporting on evil of one sort of another was a recurring element of the journalism I have practised and observed over the past six decades. I saw evil, heard about evil, and my job was to report on it. I do not feel I, or the journalism for which I was responsible, have let my mother down. Her gift was a statement that values and standards were important. However, I also recognise the message my monkeys impart to individual members of society, and see it taking on ever-increasing validity in the toxic environment of social media. That is a paradox.
The second inconsistency was symbolised by the piece of iron pyrites. Did Fool’s Gold sitting beside my monkeys suggest that the value of journalism that I had long embraced was illusory? Certainly, the attacks by New Zealand politicians and their supporters over the past month suggest journalists may be kidding themselves that their roles in a democratic society have real (and recognised) value. Given that democracy demands the free flow of verified facts, the devaluing of journalism by politicians might be seen as equally paradoxical…and alarming.
However, I will not crush my question into a ball and throw it into the too-hard basket. I hope the definitions I am about to offer recognise the complexities and nuances that attend the reasons why journalism exists, the means by which it is practised, and its validity in an age when ordinary members of society can be mass communicators.
Why am I bothering? After all, so many New Zealanders appear to have little regard for journalism. That is evident both in declining audience numbers on those vehicles that embrace journalism as their primary mission, and in the minimal public reactions to statements and actions that are eroding the field at a rate that has alarming similarities to the effects of climate change.
I am making the effort because it is vital that we, as a society, begin to understand the distinction between journalism and (for want of a better term) ordinary public discourse. The latter now exists in an environment that is demanding of rights but negligent on responsibilities, where motives and even identity may be readily hidden, and where fact and opinion are interchangeable or conflated into a ‘new reality’. At times, it is the antithesis of principled journalism. It is an environment readily embraced by institutions, organisations, and individuals who eschew pre-publication scrutiny in order to directly embed their messages with largely unquestioning audiences. Continue reading “How do we define journalism? The public needs to know”
