Coronavirus illustrated: Steve Brodner writes about the worst takes on the virus, featuring Rush Limbaugh, Geraldo Rivera and President Trump.
Coronavirus illustrated: Steve Brodner writes about the worst takes on the virus, featuring Rush Limbaugh, Geraldo Rivera and President Trump.
Obscene comics: Artist Michael Diana is the first cartoonist in U.S. history to be jailed for obscenity, writes Meagan Damore.
Diana was sentenced in 1994 to prison, probation, community service and told to take a journalism ethics course, get a psychological exam, draw nothing obscene and avoid minors. He says public attitudes changed since the mid-1990s.
Decade of media ethics: Sydney Smith gives an overview of major issues and trends from 2010-2019.
The term “fake news” rises in political reporting. Hoaxes, lawsuits, retractions and firings crop up in covering the president.
The last half of the decade saw an apparent decrease in plagiarism and fabrication cases.
Disinformation villains illustrated: Steve Brodner illustrates the seven worst, writes Sam Thielman.
Lois Lane’s enduring conflict of interest: James Grebey writes about the ethical dilemmas of comic book heroes, including revelations of mental health therapy for trauma.
The ethics of Lois keeping Superman’s identity secret is described as a subject of debate in journalism schools for 75 years.
Editorial cartoon ethics: iMediaEthics noticed a growing debate over cartoon ethics, and published 11 controversial cartoons of 2018.
Four of the cartoonists were fired. Publications apologized for some of them, and stood by others. The cartoons focused on politics, sports and tragedies.
Nilufer Demir/Reuters photo
By Casey Bukro
Charlie Hebdo, the French satire newspaper, published a cartoon of a drowned 3-year-old boy and showed why codes of ethics should warn against satirical cruelty.
Satire can be cruel, inspiring or infuriating. Maybe all at once. But are there limits to this form of freedom of expression?
Charlie Hebdo clearly touched a nerve by joking about the boy lying facedown in the surf of a Turkish beach, after drowning with his mother and a brother while attempting to flee war-torn Syria, becoming a stark symbol of Europe’s growing migrant crisis.
The cartoon was based on photos of the boy, first described as Aylan Kurdi and corrected later as Alan Kurdi.
“The haunting photograph of 3-year-old Aylan Kurdi, the Syrian boy whose lifeless body washed up on a Turkish beach last week, has been inescapable; even if you’ve just seen it once, it’s an image you can’t forget,” wrote Carolyn O’Hara, managing editor of The Week magazine.
O’Hara compared it with other grim photos of the past that forced the world to confront some tragic realities, such as the the 1972 photo of a naked Vietnamese girl screaming in agony from napalm burns, the 1993 image of a vulture stalking a starving Sudanese toddler and the hooded Abu Ghraib prisoner with outstretched arms.
It could be argued that these images served a greater purpose. Can the same be said about Charlie Hebdo?
By Casey Bukro
The news has been the news in recent weeks, starting with Rolling Stone, then Charlie Hebdo and now NBC’s Nightly News anchor Brian Williams.
Usually, journalists try to avoid being the story, although Williams demonstrated that television celebrities might see no harm in a little self-promoting embellishment even if it’s untrue.
After challenges from military witnesses, Williams now admits he was mistaken or had “gone crazy” when he said that he was in a helicopter that was shot down in 2003 while he was covering the Iraq war. Williams often repeated that scenario, making himself look intrepid.
Whoops. It was another helicopter that was forced down by a rocket hit, not the one Williams was riding. Williams and military witnesses give different accounts of the incident.
Caught in a fabrication that was widely mocked on the internet, Williams said he was stepping down for a few days from his post as managing editor and anchor of Nightly News, a post which ethics expert Kelly McBride of the Poynter Institute described as “the primary arbiter of the facts.”
Let’s get one thing straight: Williams was in a helicopter in a war zone, which was dangerous and laudable. Witnesses vouch for that. So I give the guy credit for doing a reporter’s job.
But he went a step too far and landed in the shoals of fabrication and deceit, which ended the careers of Jayson Blair of the New York Times, Janet Cooke of the Washington Post and Stephen Glass of The New Republic. Their careers crashed and burned.
Dan Rather left CBS News after 44 years for “a mistake in judgment.”
NBC management said they were considering “the best next steps.” They should consider the Society of Professional Journalists code of ethics. It says “journalists should be honest….” They also should not cast doubt on the credibility of other journalists working to gain the trust and respect of the public.
NBC suspended Williams for six months without pay.
For some people, Williams will be living proof that “reporters make it all up.”
Williams told the false story of his heroics often, and one unanswered question is whether NBC knew the story was fake and did nothing about it. Where were the editors? Or was Williams so untouchable that nothing he said could be challenged? Television crew members with Williams also witnessed the event. Did anyone bother to question them?
To complicate matters, Williams’ 2005 coverage of Hurricane Katrina also is being challenged since he reported seeing a body floating past his hotel room in the French Quarter of New Orleans.
A local newspaper reported that flood waters did surround the Ritz-Carlton where Williams was staying. And a former sheriff’s sergeant working with the anchor during the Katrina floods says he believes Williams.
Charlie Hebdo was a far more tragic story, in which two gunmen killed 12 people in or near the offices of the satirical magazine, which had published cartoons of the Prophet Mohammed.
Two philosophers who are staff members of the Ethics AdviceLine for Journalists wrote blogs about the event. You can read their comments at http://www.ethicsadvicelineforjournalists.org.
David Ozar and Hugh Miller agreed that no religion condones killing people over religious or philosophical differences. But they saw the Charlie Hebdo massacre turning on the issue of offense, and what should be done to avoid offending the beliefs of others.
A step in that direction came when al-Jezeera English banned the use of certain words that could be offensive in other cultures, such as “terrorists,” “Islamists” or “jihad.”
Nancy Matchett, also an AdviceLine staff member, had this to say about Charlie Hebdo:
” I too think the most interesting and difficult issues raised by satire have to do with the concept of ‘offense.’ One thing I might emphasize a bit more (and here I would be paraphrasing Eleanor Roosevelt’s famous line) is that no one can offend another person without that other person’s consent.
“That does not, of course, obviate the point that a person can, through deliberate malice or carelessness or even cluelessness, say or do things that are extremely likely to be taken offensively by specific others (and here again, I agree with both Dave and Hugh that such sayings and doings constitute ethical failings).
“It is just to note that the mere fact that one person ‘took offense’ does not, by itself, show that the purportedly offensive action was the result of a clearly blameworthy motive like malice, etc. Applied very briefly to Charlie Hebdo, it’s my sense that the magazine was trying to deliberately provoke (if not outright offend) in ways that make the taking of offense by various communities justified. But of course a murderous response to even the most highly offensive speech act is inexcusable in any context.”
And I would add one more thought about Charlie Hebdo. And that is to be true to your standards about giving offense. Think hard about it, and decide on your standards. Then stick to them. Charlie Hebdo intentionally offended. It was their standard. Journalists should decide where they draw the line.
Enough time has passed to show that Rolling Stone magazine clearly shot itself in the foot by reporting a story based on a single source, with no attempt at in-depth investigation, about an unnamed woman who said she had been gang raped by seven men at a fraternity party on the University of Virginia campus in 2012.
The story began unraveling almost immediately after it was printed as times, dates, places and people mentioned in the story did not match reality.
The author, Sabrina Rubin Erdely, said she had agreed with a request from the alleged rape victim to avoid interviewing anyone else who might have been involved, thereby violating a standard journalism practice to seek as many viewpoints as possible to check the validity of the allegations.
Erdely and Brian Williams have this in common: They should have checked their facts.
Rolling Stone editors later issued a statement saying that in light of new information, “there now appear to be discrepancies,” and the editors concluded their trust in the young woman’s story “was misplaced.”
“The truth would have been better served by getting the other side of the story,” tweeted Rolling Stone managing editor Will Dana.
The university and the fraternity mentioned in the story were seriously smeared by the allegations, and the legitimate cause of campus rape prevention was damaged.
Charlie Hebdo represented an assault on freedom of expression.
Brian Williams and Rolling Stone represent an assault on professional standards in journalism, and a subversion of simply telling the truth.
Scene from “The Battle of Algiers” (1965)
By Hugh Miller
Many thanks to my friend and Loyola colleague David Ozar for his reflections on the Charlie Hebdo murders. My reflections here are meant as a supplement to his.
I agree pretty much completely with what Dave has to say. I agree wholly with his position on the first group of issues, that is those involving the morality of violent assaults upon persons to prevent such persons from expressing their views.
As to the second group — having to do with the issue of jihad as it is understood and practiced in Islamic contexts — I have nothing to say. I am myself neither Muslim nor sufficiently educated in the concrete issues to be able to say anything useful, not to mention edifying, about the matter. It is really for experts in Islam to make things clearer for us.
On the third set of issues — where the journalism-ethics rubber meets the road, so to speak — I think I also largely agree with Dave. His distinction between “needed information” and “valued information” is very useful. Satire clearly falls in the second category. But we should perhaps note that the division between the two is somewhat porous.
Clearly, one of the functions (or at least results) of the provision of “needed information” often involves being disobliging, to use a polite word, to those in positions of power or authority. As Murray Gurfein once famously said, “A cantankerous press, an obstinate press, a ubiquitous press, must be suffered by those in authority in order to preserve the right of the people to know.”
The mission or aim of satirical humor, as commentators have repeatedly noted, is to cause readers or listeners to criticize the words and actions of their leaders, especially when those words and actions are absurd or harmful to those whom they profess to lead. (See an especially good piece about this by the British author Tim Parks in his New York Review of Books blog.)
The means employed by satire differ from those employed by “straight” reporting; but, in at least some respects, the ends are the same, or at least quite similar. The satirist Harry Shearer made a similar point recently on his radio show, Le Show: Genuine satire always involves critiques of those in positions of power and authority.
It is for this reason, I presume, that in so many newspapers it has been historically the tradition to place editorial cartoons in a different category, and indeed in a different physical location, in the newspaper from the “comics.” Indeed, editorial cartooning faces many of the same push-back pressures and intimidations from those whom it covers as do reporters writing articles. Columns and cartoons alike risk “spiking.”
What has been prompting my own reflections most, though, has been the problem of “offense” which Dave discusses toward the end of his post. And, really, his own reservations and hedging about the possibility of getting clear on the issue are to his great credit, and are more or less the jumping off point for my own ideas.
Philosophical debates about the Charlie Hebdo tragedy that I have read have tended to take various abstract positions. Some have voiced a full-throated support for “Enlightenment values”: for example that in a liberal democracy that practices the separation of church and state one has (or ought to have) a perfect right to say what one thinks, and to have that saying protected, if necessary, by state power — limited only by concerns of public safety, incitement to riot, hate speech, etc.
Others (in what might be called the “ethics of care” position) argue that we have a prima facie obligation to avoid knowingly giving offense to others, absent a very good reason for doing so. But what has struck me, and worried me, about many such positions has been precisely their abstractness.
Abstraction is at once the strong suit and the Achilles’ heel of traditional philosophical practice. In philosophy we tend to think that our job is to get to a position of general or universal conceptual clarity and logical rigor, and from such a standpoint to lay down canons of knowledge and action that (we think) ought to be shared and carried out by “the rational person.”
In doing so we commonly leave behind many of the concrete, historical, individual details of persons and situations, viewing them either as accidental or as something that can be accounted for by tweaking the theory later, once the basic ground rules have been agreed upon. First, we think, let us get our virtue-ethics, or utilitarian, or deontological, or communitarian systematic ducks in a row. Then we can take care of gender, history, power, etc., in a kind of cleanup sweep at the end.
Along with many other contemporary philosophers, I’ve come to think of such a philosophical practice as deeply problematic, if not fatally flawed. For once we step away from the concrete facts and situations and relegate them to the periphery of “accidents,” we seem unable to retrieve them later as anything but that, in fact—as inessential accidents.
We also absolve ourselves too quickly of responsibility for thinking through ways in which our vaunted theories have been applied historically. “Duty,” for example, is a compelling idea, and as Kant articulates it, a powerful foundation for moral judgment. But it is also the key idea deployed by those for whom by obedience to commands is the dominant imperative of moral life—and rigorous obedience to commands can carry us very far indeed from moral behavior.
More generally, “Enlightenment values” were born and developed over a long period in which huge historical moral catastrophes like slavery, colonialism, racial segregation, totalitarianism, capitalist exploitation, the oppression of women and environmental degradation have been dominant facts. Are we to say that those values have no real relation to such events—that they have been only meant to correct such failures? If so, they have been unsuccessful.
What this means is that, for me, and for others who think like this, moral reasoning must be contextualized and made concrete, every step of the way. Out first responsibility is to think critically, especially self-critically, of what we claim as our values and how we claim to be able to apply them to a situation. We must first investigate the concrete details thoroughly. We must listen—really listen, not just record facts distractedly while our real attention is directed to our theories—to the parties involved.
We must learn the history, the details, the particulars, and especially the relations of power and powerlessness that mark and have marked the participants. In the case of Charlie Hebdo, that means looking at the status of the various Muslim communities in France, at the very least since the Second World War and the Algerian struggles for independence.
What of the young disenfranchised Muslim youth in the banlieues of Paris and the other great cities of France? How are Muslims treated in France, now and historically? What effect has the struggle over the public ban on the wearing of the hijab been on the Muslim community?
For that matter, what is the historical tradition of polemical satire, like that of Charlie Hebdo, which is common not only in France but in many countries in Europe? Is such polemical satire really a blow for freedom, as its (current) defenders insist, or also an instrument of ridicule of oppressed and discriminated-against minorities, women, etc.?
In the case of Charlie Hebdo, there have been a number of incidents (for example, in 2006, 2011 and 2012) where publication of provocative and offensive cartoons have caused both foreign governments and French leaders themselves to call for restraint and greater sensitivity to offense. Simply to continue to plump for a rigid application of an exceptionless liberty of expression in such conditions seems not just insensitive but the height of moral obtuseness.
I don’t mean to say that there are no universal moral principles. But I do think that there are no meaningful or useful moral principles that do not arise from a careful critical engagement with the concrete facts of the situation. In particular, they must arise from a committed engagement, by all sides, genuinely to listen to each others’ stories, to criticize their own presuppositions and privileges, to attempt to see others’ points of view, and to assume responsibility for their own thoughts and actions, and even for the thoughts and actions of others.
I think it especially important to make this point in the light of an impassioned plea on January 26th by the Moroccan journalist and activist Zineb El-Rhazoui, who worked for Charlie Hebdo, for all of us to support free speech. (She escaped being killed because she was in Morocco at the time the massacre occurred.)
At an interview in Montreal she appealed to the West to stand up against Islamic fundamentalism. What was interesting about her argument was that it was not based upon a claim of the cultural superiority of western secularism to Islam (even though she admitted she believed in that superiority, and embraced it).
Rather, she said, there was a subtle, paternalistic racism implicit in those who urged sensitivity to Muslim outrage. Those who claim that we should leave Muslims to their own culture and not criticize them, lest we be called racists, she said, are in essence saying, “Those people are not capable of universalism, that they don’t deserve it, that the only thing they deserve is to be ruled by [medieval] rules.”
Those who have read Edward Said’s influential book Orientalism (1978) will recognize the argument: the West has culturally patronized the Arab/Turkish/Persian/African “East,” both elevating itself against that “East” and demeaning it as unworthy of Western values.
My point is that we must understand El-Rhazoui’s position as well: many women (in particular) have found liberation and protection from their experiences of gender discrimination by seeking refuge in exile in the West.
We must listen to their voices as well. But we must situate their claims in a larger context, and recognize that their experiences do not mean that we must abandon our sensitivity to the many other situations of cultural conflict, domination and discrimination. Of course, no one is incapable of, or unworthy of, “universalism.” But the question remains: when one adopts “universal” values, what comes along with that adoption? And what might be left behind?
This is a lot of work. It is easier to formulate a code and then just to apply it, even if it means having to bang the square pegs quite hard to wedge them into the non-square holes on the moral playing board.
But that is hardly a decent way to proceed. The ethics of publications like Charlie Hebdo have to be worked out now, going forward, in an atmosphere of respect, of listening, and of mutual concern. That would not be censorship. It might, in fact, be the birth of a kind of satire that would be genuinely liberating for all concerned.
By David Ozar
I am a philosopher and ethics professor.
Some of what has been said about the murder of staff at Charlie Hebdo has seemed to me to make very good sense; but some of it has been muddled by treating together a number of ideas that are very different from each other. There are at least three sets of ethical or social-ethical issues that these events put on the table for careful reflection.
I began writing about these issues because I was pretty sure that drawing a clear conclusion about one of these issues does not lead us to clear conclusions about the others. I offer my reasons for this point of view here in the hope that they will help others think carefully about these issues and, if I am correct, avoid muddling them together.
One set of ethical issues raised by the events at Charlie Hebdo focuses on whether killing people to prevent them from speaking their views is ever morally/ethically justifiable. Very few people in the world believe it is.
No philosophical and theoretical position, Islamic or otherwise, that affirms every human being has a value that does not depend on what the person believes or how he or she acts would ever support such killings as morally/ethically justifiable.
Clearly, committed terrorists of any religious stripe or of no religion view humans differently. But I am assuming the fact that there are people who hold other views about human beings is not counter-evidence enough for the rest of us to withhold judgment about the value of a human being, or a reason to view terrorists as anything but profoundly mistaken and dangerous enough to the rest of us that ethically extraordinary measures may be necessary to prevent them from acting on their views.
But as I said, I don’t think being clear about this set of issues provides clarity to the other two.
A second set of issues concerns what is or is not required of Muslims who seek to act faithfully in accord with the Koran. The fact that the jihadists we are dealing with say they read the Koran as justifying acts of terrorism — and let us assume this is genuine and not strategic posturing for the sake of grabbing power or whatever, though their being genuine in this is also something that would need evidence for us to be sure — tells us nothing at all about other strands of Islam and nothing dependable about the Koran and surely provides no evidence about Islam in general or Muslims as a group.
I have no detailed knowledge about Islam and its many varieties and all the Muslims I have known personally have been good people whom I would be happy to call my friends. My guess is that there are as many strands of Koranic interpretation as there are regarding interpretation of the Judaic and Christian Scriptures; and the news about the Paris massacre has evidenced many devout Muslims who condemn terrorist acts of all sorts as being clear violations of Koranic teaching.
In fact, while these terrorists and ISIS do use the word “jihad” to describe their efforts, this probably tells us nothing specific enough to draw conclusions about jihad itself as this idea occurs in the Koran or is understood by Muslims generally.
For I do not know – and we would need to listen carefully to Koranic scholars to draw any conclusions – whether the notion of jihad in the Koran or in various Muslim traditions of interpreting it always requires terrorism. Religion-based wars have been fought — by partisans of many different religions — without resorting to terrorism. That is, in accord with the rules of ethical war (articulated for example, but not exclusively, in the West’s understanding of “Just War Theory”). There could just as easily be Islamic traditions that interpret jihad this way rather than seeing it as requiring terrorism.
And ethical/moral questions about what justifies acts of mortal violence under any circumstances, much less circumstances having any relevance to the present situation of various peoples in the Middle East, is a huge set of questions I am not even attempting to say anything about here.
Anyone wishing to understand the ethical issues involved in justifying war’s violence will find a good, careful discussion in Michael Walzer’s book, Just and Unjust Wars. A good example of a discussion of the ethical issues involved specifically in addressing the threat of organized terrorism that our country learned it must deal with in the events of 9/11 is Jean Bethke Elshtain’s book, Just War Against Terror.
The third set of ethical issues raised by the events at Charlie Hebdo concerns journalists and their various appropriate professional roles. In an essay entitled, “An Explanation and Method for the Ethics of Journalism,” which I co-authored with another philosopher/ethicist, Professor Deni Elliott, I proposed an answer to the question “What Values Do Journalists Bring About For Those They Serve (i.e. in their designated social role in our society)?”
The book is: Journalism Ethics: A Philosophical Approach edited by Christopher Meyers, pp.9-24. This is a central question to reflect on when asking about the professional ethics of any profession.
I argued there that Needed [by the public] Information comes first and Valued [by the public] Information comes second.
Clearly the creation and publication of humor, and more narrowly of satirical humor, is not part of the role of journalists to provide the public with needed information or even information which the public does not need but values having for one reason or another.
I argued that the other kinds of good that journalists can do may well be ethically appropriate to their professional role, at least in Western societies, and I think that producing humor is one of these, either as entertainment or as something valued for other reasons, perhaps including thoughtful social criticism.
But I take it for granted that every profession’s ethics are the product of a dialogue between that group and the specific larger society in which it functions. So I think that, in today’s world where the products of journalists’ work go far and wide, it is a complex question to know whether societies where other things besides these two are not part of journalists’ social role are ethically justified in those societies. This is a question I will not try to comment on here, but which would make a great topic for discussion by those who care about journalism’s professional ethics in today’s digital world.
With that as background, I can pose the key question about journalism’s professional ethics that is at stake here: Is satirical humor sufficiently socially-ethically justifiable within the social-ethical role of a professional journalist or professional journalist organization that such humor continues to be ethically justifiable when it is highly offensive to large numbers of otherwise reasonable, not-fanatic, peace-loving and neighbor-caring people?
This is a very complex ethical question. What a person finds offensive is, for want of a better word, painful to them, it hurts. And in general we think hurting others’ feelings ought to be avoided unless there is a good reason for it. In addition, it is rare that we judge hurting someone’s feelings, offending someone, for no other reason than to entertain other persons (besides the one who is hurt) to be something that is morally/ethically justifiable if the situation is one in which the hurt party has little realistic opportunity of avoiding the hurt.
The great American philosopher, Joel Feinberg, determined that his examination of rights should include a careful discussion of the extent to which offense can ever be morally/ethically justified and if there are circumstances in which it should be legally prohibited.
The work ended up taking him a whole, complex book to sort out. [The book is: Joel Feinberg, Offense To Others.]
So it seems to me that well-thought-out answers to the question I just asked are going to take time and effort to sort out, especially in an international digital world in which “news” of all sorts is flashed on screens, billboards, etc., at least in many parts of the world. For that means that the ethical issue is not resolved by just saying, “Well, if you think it will be offensive (or even know it because they said it would be), just refuse to buy Charlie.”
That is not a realistic answer to the opportunity-to-avoid question in a world where the line between information, entertainment, and advertising has been blurred so thoroughly (although this blurring has not been solely the result of the changes in journalism in recent decades, but on the other hand journalist organizations have certainly played a part in the process).
So I think there is a lot here that is worth discussing, especially if we are willing to assume that short, quick answers are almost certainly going to be too simple once we get past the “do not kill” part of the matter. That’s my ‘two cents” on this. Well, to be honest, it’s quite a few cents! But then I am a philosopher and I am unwilling to pretend complex ethical things are simple !