The homicide of NFL star Sean Taylor has led to much
discussion and debate among journalists and the public as to how such a story
should be responsibly reported and analyzed.
It's a conversation about sports, race, crime and justice. But it's also about the blurring boundary
lines between fact and opinion, knowledge and rumor, news and commentary,
reporting and speculation.
|
ESPN
Rob King, editor-in-chief, ESPN.com |
To help us all think this through, we've called upon our
friend and colleague
Rob King, editor-in-chief of
ESPN.com and a wise voice on the issues at hand. I posed questions to Rob via
e-mail. Here are Rob's responses. We invite our readers to weigh in with
their own takes on these difficult issues.
Clark: Have the public and the
press jumped to conclusions without appropriate evidence that Taylor's terrible death was the
consequence of a troubled life?
King: First, it's important to be clear on how high the
stakes are in telling this story. This is about three things: Sean Taylor's
football career, the narrative of his life and the circumstances of his death.
The three threads contain powerful detail and deserve great care in the
telling, because the absence of that care is invariably destructive.
I think
it's fair to say a number of conclusions have been reached in the absence of
facts, whether we're talking about terming his death "the consequence of a
troubled life," a "robbery attempt" or anything else. In our present reality,
stories such as this one are told through facts, through analysis of the facts
and through reaction to the analysis of the facts. Perhaps the biggest problem: Facts and analysis of the facts are published and broadcast simultaneously, at
such a dizzying rate that it can become difficult to distinguish between the two.
Clark: I have been mugged twice
in my life and, in either case, could have been shot to death. If a
white athlete had been shot and killed in his house or apartment, would
the coverage have been the same?
King: The stories of pro wrestler Chris Benoit, baseball
players Rod Beck and Ken Caminiti, and football player Justin Strzelczyk all
centered on tragedy, all spoke of greater societal ills (steroids and drug
addiction) and all generated a decent amount of investigative reporting energy.
Yankee pitcher Cory Lidle's death in a New York plane crash earned a good amount of
coverage. But those stories also dealt with either self-destructive behavior
or, in Cory Lidle's case (and potentially Strzelczyk's), accidental
circumstances. That's an important consideration, because the deaths —
depression, drug overdose, car crash, plane crash — seem easier to explain.
Violence is harder.
Chris
Benoit's murder-suicide represents one of the few cases of white athletes and
murder that come immediately to mind. Tragically, African-American athletes and
gunplay have combined in far more news stories.
As to your
question about coverage of the shooting death of a white athlete, it's
impossible to say for certain. But here are key questions to consider
regardless of race. Should the contents of that athlete's iPod, or that
athlete's tattoos, hairstyle or wardrobe become discussion points? What level
of scrutiny should be placed on the athlete's rap sheet (or lack thereof),
choice of neighborhood or college and circle of friends? And what role should
first-hand testimonials from family, friends and colleagues play in
characterizing the magnitude of the tragedy?
Clark: It seems as if we only
have three ways in journalism of covering young black men: as
entertainers, especially rap artists; as athletes; and as
criminals or the victims of crime. Is this a fair judgment, and are
those categories somehow related?
King: It's appropriate to celebrate the many stories of
young black men who've enriched the world and informed the human narrative
through their intellect, art and athleticism. On the other hand, we in the
media must guard against the simplistic notion that our audiences aren't
interested in black men as anything other than entertainers (a category that
includes athletes, in my book) or crime stories. I know I'm not alone in being
passionately interested in depictions of these men as fathers/brothers/sons, as
political leaders, as entrepreneurs, as intellectuals. I work to find those
stories — and they do exist. But as a reader, it takes far more work for me to
do so than it does to find the entertainer and crime stories. As journalists
and storytellers, it becomes that much more important for all of us to do the
work to make it easier for our readers to find these narratives, too.
Clark: Given the murder rate
among young black men, shouldn't news organizations be writing MORE about
this social pathology, or does doing so magnify the stereotypes about
black men?
King: Our job is to tell the truth, light the candle, and
move people toward better solutions. Telling the truth is more complicated,
however, than simply adding volume. We also need to add (and maintain) a
broader range of voices and experiences to the storytelling.
Clark: Other athletes, black and
white, have died violently. But this case seems to have received
more coverage than usual. We are wondering whether that may be
because Taylor played for a team in Washington. If he had played in a
different market would the coverage have been the same?
King: Fair disclosure, I'm a Washington, D.C., native and a Redskins fan. But
that's impossible to answer, really. This is very, very complicated stuff. The
three entwined threads of Taylor's career, life and death may well
be defined by the places he worked, lived and died. In that sense, it's fair to
say that Miami is just as much "the market" as Washington is. It's worth recalling that on
the first of the year, Darrent Williams, who played professionally in Denver and attended college in Stillwater, Oklahoma, lost his life in a shooting
outside of a Denver nightclub, and that story drew
significant coverage, too. I go back to my first answer above: We have to
approach the three significant, disparate story lines — career, life, death —
with as much care as possible. That drives our work more than market size.
Clark: Is it fair to compare or
contrast the Sean Taylor case with the downfall of Michael Vick? In
other words, do we create an automatic guilt by association ("another
black athlete brought down by his inability to escape his roots"), or is
it the kind of analysis we should expect from responsible writers and
reporters?
King: Now we're back in the realm of storytelling through
analysis of the facts or reaction to analysis of the facts. This is so
subjective as to be inherently problematic. And until we know more facts about
Sean Taylor's death, it's irresponsible.
Clark: In listening to ESPN, it
seems that this debate on how to cover Taylor's death is going on among
African-American sports journalists. Is that a fair assessment, and
what does it mean?
King: First, let me say that I believe the debate extends
beyond African-American sports journalists. I think a good many folks want to
tell this story in an accurate, measured way that relies more on fact than
fancy.
But it's
important to acknowledge that this story joins a string of others — Vick, Barry
Bonds, the paucity of college football head coaches of color (while Houston
Nutt and Mike Sherman get immediate jobs), the disappearance of the black major
leaguer — that have drawn the diverse community of African-American journalists
into some very serious, heartfelt discussions concerning our place in telling
these tales. I emphasize the term discussions, because our sharing
extends beyond debate. Going back to my point about adding voices rather than
volume, we understand that our participation is critical to the fair and
accurate reporting of these important stories. Hey, sometimes the truth hurts.
But the hurt is unnecessarily compounded when it comes from too few, too-subjective sources. That's the discussion.
I'm proud
to work for a company that works to engage as many voices as possible when it
comes to this story or others like it. I'm also extremely proud to see the
range of personal and professional experiences expressed among the community of
black journalists as we work out ways we can help light the candle. Sometimes,
that comes in the form of great writing and reporting from folks such as Jemele
Hill, Mike Wilbon, Jeff Chadiha and Howard Bryant. Sometimes that comes from
leadership from folks like Keith Clinkscales of ESPN Enterprises, or Garry
Howard of the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel, David Aldridge of The Philadelphia
Inquirer, and Leon Carter of the New York Daily News. Sometimes it comes from
sharing clear, fair feedback with our newsroom colleagues. And sometimes that
comes from providing readers and listeners a safe place to engage in a
discussion of their own.
It's work.
Worthwhile work.
Clark: What role do you think
readers' comments play in shaping the perception of the coverage?
King: I would say that the
array of opinions and assumptions we're receiving reads like an outcry for
accuracy in reporting, clarity in writing and fairness in analysis. That too is
worthwhile work.
