Dear Bill Keller,
Your defense of the total news blackout surrounding the kidnapping of David Rohde has made the job of every free journalist in the world much harder. In doing so, you have put your loyalties to a few in front of the larger journalistic principle of truth telling.
You have indicated that when a life is in danger, we should avoid reporting the truth until that life is secure. In taking this position, you’ve created a standard that we journalists can’t possibly uphold.
By telling the story of Rohde’s escape, we’ve already violated it, compromising the life of the driver who was left behind. The driver’s life may be in even more danger now from those same kidnappers. If we were to uphold your standard, we would continue the news blackout until the driver, too, is safe.
That invites the question: Is the driver’s life less valuable than a reporter’s? Is it that he’s Afghani and not American?
What about the next story? What will you do if an American soldier is kidnapped? What if an oil company executive disappears in the Middle East? Will you insist on a months-long news blackout? Will you set aside your role as a watchdog, as the paper of record, in order to preserve a life?
The next time you are challenged by a newsworthy kidnapping, I believe you’ll put journalism first. You’ll return to your role of holding the powerful accountable and informing the citizens who count on the Times to deliver the most important, accurate stories of the day. And when critics point out the inconsistency, they will accuse The New York Times of creating a special standard that applies only to journalists, maybe only to journalists working for the Times.
Monday night on the “NewsHour with Jim Lehrer,” you dismissed me when I suggested that your handling of Rohde’s kidnapping put your loyalty to a few people before the newspaper’s duty to report the truth fully and accurately. You said, “Sometimes decisions that seem easy and clear-cut in an ethics seminar are a lot more complicated in real life.”
I would not want to trade places with you. Running The New York Times is infinitely harder than teaching journalism ethics to professionals, students and others around the world.
In my work, I frequently guide and observe powerful people as they make agonizing decisions. These men (they are almost all men) find themselves in the heartbreaking position of having to choose between causing immediate harm to a few individuals, about whom they care deeply, and the overall good of a large number of people. It’s the very position that President Barack Obama is in regarding the release of additional prison abuse photos. Releasing the photos would uphold his commitment to open and accountable government, yet it could endanger the lives of the military serving overseas.
As I deal with newsroom leaders in these situations, I encourage them to search for alternatives that minimize the immediate harm while upholding the core values of journalism. They often choose to protect the people they care about, just like you did with Rohde. I respect that decision. In fact, there’s a description for such behavior. It’s called an ethic of care, a model of decision-making we often use in our personal relationships. That’s different from an ethic of justice, the model most commonly used when confronting issues on behalf of an organization or government.
Because these leaders have turned to me for advice, I encourage them to honestly, yet privately, acknowledge the values underpinning their decision. I encourage them to say as little as possible publicly, unless they are prepared to allow the ethic of care to become the prominent ethical model in their workplace. And if they must make a public statement, I suggest they go for the honest one, in which they simply say, “We set aside our core values in the face of imminent consequences.”
Journalists the world over, including some from The New York Times, come to Poynter and express, often for the first time, their doubts, pain and confusion about decisions made in their newsrooms. I walk alongside these journalists and their bosses as they make choices as difficult as those you face. I firmly believe that we can uphold the values of journalism in the face of such decisions.
Sincerely,
Kelly McBride
