As partisan activity and open hostility climbed toward their peak in Wisconsin’s recent recall election, one of my students lost her job days before she was set to begin it. She hadn’t conducted a single interview or written even one lead. Yet she was declared guilty of an insurmountable conflict of interest for signing a political petition.
I’m not using the student’s name here, for obvious reasons, but let’s call her Lisa. And I can tell you she is a hardworking young reporter and writer who cared about accuracy, creativity, and careful sourcing. And she was crushed.
For those who somehow haven’t glanced toward America’s Dairyland over the last 18 months, Gov. Scott Walker spearheaded a legislative agenda that drew tens of thousands to the state Capitol in protest. A recall petition movement arose last fall, netting about 900,000 signatures, including my own. After becoming only the third US governor ever to face a recall election, Walker easily survived it the first week in June.
The legislation, protests, and recalls were big stories, yielding award-winning coverage and peak Web traffic. News outlets focused inward, however, when online posting of recall petitions showed that journalists in a number of newsrooms had signed. News organizations moved quickly to identify, disclose, and even sanction these journalists, though nobody involve disclosed the penalties. Gannett, the Wisconsin State Journal, and several broadcast outlets covered their own employees’ involvement.
None of this surprised me because about six weeks earlier, petition signature fever had cost Lisa her prestigious internship. Just days before her start date, the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel “un-hired” her, after they asked her whether she had signed the recall petition. This was weeks after she had interviewed and had been offered the job. No one had thought to ask earlier, but that’s the least of my concerns. Lisa’s case is the ideal illustration of how thin our ethical reasoning has grown, and how dangerous that is in today’s hyperpartisan and accusatory age.
At the time Lisa signed the recall petition, she was not working in a news organization, not even a student paper. At that time, the internship she later won and lost had not yet been conceived or funded. She lost an ideal career opportunity after the retroactive imposition of an ethics code on a job that hadn’t been created when she chose to put her name on a petition.
On the other hand, the Journal Sentinel editors I spoke with during this time felt trapped. The internship would have been in the state capitol bureau, which was squarely focused on recall politics for the foreseeable future. I credit them for trying to find another position for Lisa, but they could not come up with the funding. In the end, signing the recall petition was deemed too great a conflict of interest for her to do the work.
I got it. One of our staff members called it “Journalism 101”: Journalists don’t plant yard signs or endorse candidates. Voting is okay, but most everything else is verboten. Especially in a divided, toxic, and charged Wisconsin.
Then, I realized, I didn’t get it.
Difficult questions require deep reflection. And upon reflection, it seems to me that if journalism ethics rely on the perceptions of a heatedly divided audience, those ethics are doomed. Editors often speak of getting calls and emails from opposing sides, each complaining that the exact same image or story is unfair to their camp. This “hostile media effect” has been well documented by researchers.
News organizations consistently say they strive for objectivity, and some of them say they achieve it. Many in the audience, meanwhile, aren’t buying it. What’s lost in these battles is an understanding that objectivity is not a state of being but instead a mindset and a corresponding set of methods.
When a journalist sets out to cover a story ethically, she first has to accept that she’s not “viewless.” She cannot make her mind a blank. Instead, she and her news organization make a commitment to be fair, and to use methods to achieve that fairness.