It was 1989 in the Supreme Court last week. Lawyers argued about whether ExxonMobil should pay punitive damages for the Exxon Valdez oil spill off the coast of Alaska nearly two decades ago.
You might have thought that case was over by now, but no—marathon death-row appeals have nothing on Exxon Shipping Co. v. Baker. In the two decades since the spill, the newspaper as an institution has run aground but media generally have flowered, unleashed by the freedom of the Internet. Three stories in three publications illustrate three schools of journalistic thought over the last couple of decades. Which one turned out to work best?
Supreme Court reporter Linda Greenhouse, a forty-year veteran of The New York Times, shows how the old newspaper formula still does an admirable job of conveying what readers need to know—within the confines of the newspaper and without. It’s the five Ws and a cloud of dust—straightforward reporting on what happened and why, with a Timesian analytical flourish.
Greenhouse, of course, is one of the country’s premier beat reporters (and sadly one whom the Times has just bought out in its bid to slash 100 newsroom jobs), and she opens with Exxon’s argument:
The Exxon Valdez oil spill, which caused a 3,000-square-mile oil slick and still affects Alaska’s fisheries after nearly 19 years, was a “tragedy,” Exxon’s lawyer told the Supreme Court on Wednesday.
But the company has been punished enough by $3.4 billion in criminal fines, cleanup costs and compensation payments, the lawyer added, arguing that the $2.5 billion in punitive damages approved by a federal appeals court served no additional ‘public purpose.’
Then she expands into a compact summary of the color that will keep us reading past the first few paragraphs.
Exxon’s appeal of the biggest punitive damage award ever upheld in federal court led to a lively Supreme Court argument in which everything was open to dispute, from the significance of a 200-year-old case about robbery on the high seas to the world of modern maritime commerce in which a 1,000-foot tanker like the Exxon Valdez is considered a separate ‘business unit’ in the organization chart of its corporate owner.
The idea that “everything was open to dispute” sets a kind of anarchic tone, and we get a sense of wide-ranging argument and counterargument, among justices and between sides.
The Wall Street Journal presents a Newspaper 2.0-style piece, emphasizing less what happened than what’s going to happen. It’s the second-day story that runs on the first day—and it doesn’t really work here. The WSJ steps away from the chronological style used by the Times (and Slate, as we’ll see below), and emphasizes instead the likely outcome of the case based on its reading of the justices’ questions.
By presenting less reporting on what was said in the here and now and emphasizing what it may mean in the nebulous future, the WSJ dilutes the power, and frankly, the believability of its piece. You can practically hear the paper straining to spin the news forward—there are three “seemed” hedges in the first three sentences alone.
The Supreme Court seemed ready to steer a middle course between fishermen whose waters were contaminated in the 1989 Exxon Valdez oil spill, and Exxon Mobil Corp., which argues the Alaskans have no right to the $2.5 billion punitive award they won.
The justices seemed unpersuaded by Exxon’s argument that the special nature of admiralty law precluded punitive damages against Exxon. But several justices seemed concerned that under the plaintiffs’ theory, punitive damages for maritime accidents might face no upward limit.
The piece is a little too neat. Instead of a back-and-forth, we mostly get Justice David Souter’s opinions, which the WSJ uses to present the more or less consensus leanings. Souter seems to support damages, but limited ones.