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Discussion Post/ And Student Response

When reporting or writing about public controversies facts are key to the story, but should they be the only part of the story. With the case of Adams Vs. Michaels we see how writing with raw facts can lead to a different picture. While it is good to have facts laid out for the reader to form their own opinion, the lens they are looking through must not be distorted. While the writer, Laurens, wrote everything she took down and nothing could be disputed as non-fact, not all the information was collected. While the Mayor, Adams, did accused Michaels of falsifying information and Michaels made a denial nothing was done to report the other side of the story leaving Michaels to deal with the aftermath. While facts are important, so is context. So the answer is no, sometimes we need more then the facts to paint us a better picture. The difference between truth and fact is, fact being the correct information while truth may be all the information.

************************ Student Response #2 ***************************

A. I believe that accurate facts are satisfactory enough when covering a public controversy. You do not want to seem biased towards one side when covering something because it can then skew an uninformed mind, and even though each person could have their own feelings towards a situation, it is best to be fair and present all information that one can give so each person can form their own opinions. B. Facts are information that cannot be argued against and truths are more based on one's belief's. Like some believe that God is real and that is their truth and others do not.

************************ Student Response #3 ***************************

In public controversies, it is important to report facts accurately and fairly. However, it is not only enough to report facts accurately and fairly but also more important to report the truth about the facts. For instance, the reporter dwelled so much on Mayor’s accusation against councilman instead of finding out the truth about the accusations first. In addition, fair and accurate reporting might not depict justice to the truth. This is because starting facts alone does not justify the truth. More research needs to be done in order to bring out the entire truth and reasoning behind the subject. Reporter Lauren reported on facts which were one-sided but did not take time to find out if indeed pesticides affect bird’s life as well as if mayor’s allegations against Councilman were true or not. From the case, there is a clear difference between facts and truth. Firstly, a fact is a stated argument about a situation. A fact might not be combated with more meaning and reasoning. On the other hand, a truth is a meaningful and accurate statements about a situation or a fact. A fact can be untrue or true. For instance, a fact from the case study is seen when the mayor accused the councilman of being paid by a manufacturer to conceal the truth about effect of pesticides on birds.

Issues and Cases

Ninth Edition

Philip Patterson Oklahoma Christian University

Lee Wilkins Wayne State University

University of Missouri

Chad Painter University of Dayton

ROWMAN & LITTLEFIELD Lanham • Boulder • New York • London

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iiExecutive Editor: Elizabeth Swayze Assistant Editor: Megan Manzano Senior Marketing Manager: Kim Lyons

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https://www.rowman.com
iii For Linda, David, and Laurel

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ivBrief Contents

Foreword Preface

1 An Introduction to Ethical Decision-Making 2 Information Ethics: A Profession Seeks the Truth 3 Strategic Communication: Does Client Advocate Mean Consumer Adversary? 4 Loyalty: Choosing Between Competing Allegiances 5 Privacy: Looking for Solitude in the Global Village 6 Mass Media in a Democratic Society: Keeping a Promise 7 Media Economics: The Deadline Meets the Bottom Line 8 Picture This: The Ethics of Photo and Video Journalism 9 Informing a Just Society

v 10 The Ethical Dimensions of Art and Entertainment 11 Becoming a Moral Adult References Index

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viContents

Foreword Preface

1 An Introduction to Ethical Decision-Making Essay: Cases and moral systems

Deni Elliott Case 1-A: How to read a case study

Philip Patterson

2 Information Ethics: A Profession Seeks the Truth Case 2-A: Anonymous or confidential: Unnamed sources in the news

Lee Wilkins Case 2-B: Death as content: Social responsibility and the documentary filmmaker

Tanner Hawkins Case 2-C: News and the transparency standard

Lee Wilkins Case 2-D: Can I quote me on that?

Chad Painter Case 2-E: NPR, the New York Times, and working conditions in China

Lee Wilkins vii Case 2-F: When is objective reporting irresponsible reporting?

Theodore L.Glasser Case 2-G: Is it news yet?

Michelle Peltier Case 2-H: What’s yours is mine: The ethics of news aggregation

Chad Painter

3 Strategic Communication: Does Client Advocate Mean Consumer Adversary? Case 3-A: Weedvertising

Lee Wilkins Case 3-B: Cleaning up their act: The Chipotle food safety crisis

Kayla McLaughlin and Kelly Vibber Case 3-C: Keeping Up with the Kardashians’ prescription drug choices

Tara Walker Case 3-D: Between a (Kid) Rock and a hard place

Molly Shor Case 3-E: Was that an Apple computer I saw? Product placement in the United States and abroad

Philip Patterson Case 3-F: Sponsorships, sins, and PR: What are the boundaries?

Lauren Bacon Brengarth Case 3-G: A charity drops the ball

Philip Patterson

4 Loyalty: Choosing Between Competing Allegiances Case 4-A: Fair or foul? Reporter/player relationships in the sports beat

Lauren A. Waugh Case 4-B: To watch or to report: What journalists were thinking in the midst of disaster

Lee Wilkins Case 4-C: Public/on-air journalist vs. private/online life: Can it work?

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Madison Hagood Case 4-D: When you are the story: Sexual harassment in the newsroom

Lee Wilkins Case 4-E: Whose Facebook page is it anyway?

Amy Simons viii Case 4-F: Where everybody knows your name: Reporting and relationships in a small market

Ginny Whitehouse Case 4-G: Quit, blow the whistle, or go with the flow?

Robert D. Wakefield Case 4-H: How one tweet ruined a life

Philip Patterson

5 Privacy: Looking for Solitude in the Global Village Case 5-A: Drones and the news

Kathleen Bartzen Culver Case 5-B: Concussion bounty: Is trust ever worth violating?

Lee Wilkins Case 5-C: Joe Mixon: How do we report on domestic violence in sports?

Brett Deever Case 5-D: Looking for Richard Simmons

Lee Wilkins Case 5-E: Children and framing: The use of children’s images in an anti-same-sex marriage ad

Yang Liu Case 5-F: Mayor Jim West’s computer

Ginny Whitehouse Case 5-G: Politics and money: What’s private and what’s not

Lee Wilkins

6 Mass Media in a Democratic Society: Keeping a Promise Case 6-A: Reporting on rumors: When should a news organization debunk?

Lee Wilkins Case 6-B: Doxxer, Doxxer, give me the news?

Mark Anthony Poepsel Case 6-C: The truth about the facts: Politifact.com

Lee Wilkins Case 6-D: WikiLeaks

Lee Wilkins Case 6-E: Control Room: Do culture and history matter in reporting the news?

Lee Wilkins ix Case 6-F: Victims and the press

Robert Logan Case 6-G: For God and Country: The media and national security

Jeremy Littau and Mark Slagle

7 Media Economics: The Deadline Meets the Bottom Line Case 7-A: Murdoch’s mess

Lee Wilkins Case 7-B: Who controls the local news? Sinclair Broadcasting Group and “must-runs”

Keena Neal Case 7-C: Automated journalism: The rise of robot reporters

Chad Painter Case 7-D: Contested interests, contested terrain: The New York Times Code of Ethics

Lee Wilkins and Bonnie Brennen Case 7-E: Transparency in fundraising: The Corporation for Public Broadcasting standard

Lee Wilkins Case 7-F: News now, facts later

Lee Wilkins

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Case 7-G: Crossing the line? The LA Times and the Staples affair Philip Patterson and Meredith Bradford

8 Picture This: The Ethics of Photo and Video Journalism Case 8-A: Killing a journalist on-air: A means/ends test

Mitchel Allen Case 8-B: Remember my fame: Digital necromancy and the immortal celebrity

Samantha Most Case 8-C: Problem photos and public outcry

Jon Roosenraad Case 8-D: Above the fold: Balancing newsworthy photos with community standards

Jim Godbold and Janelle Hartman Case 8-E: Horror in Soweto

Sue O’Brien Case 8-F: Photographing funerals of fallen soldiers

Philip Patterson

x 9 Informing a Just Society Case 9-A: Spotlight: It takes a village to abuse a child

Lee Wilkins Case 9-B: 12th and Clairmount: A newspaper’s foray into documenting a pivotal summer

Lee Wilkins Case 9-C: Cincinnati Enquirer’s heroin beat

Chad Painter Case 9-D: Feminist fault lines: Political memoirs and Hillary Clinton

Miranda Atkinson Case 9-E: GoldieBlox: Building a future on theft

Scott Burgess

10 The Ethical Dimensions of Art and Entertainment Case 10-A: Get Out: When the horror is race

Michael Fuhlhage and Lee Wilkins Case 10-B: To die for: Making terrorists of gamers in Modern Warfare 2

Philip Patterson Case 10-C: Daily dose of civic discourse

Chad Painter Case 10-D: The Onion: Finding humor in mass shootings

Chad Painter Case 10-E: Hate radio: The outer limits of tasteful broadcasting

Brian Simmons Case 10-F: Searching for Sugar Man: Rediscovered art

Lee Wilkins

11 Becoming a Moral Adult References

Index

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Foreword Clifford G. Christians

Research Professor of Communication, University of Illinois–Urbana

The playful wit and sharp mind of Socrates attracted disciples from all across ancient Greece. They came to learn and debate in what could be translated as “his thinkery.” By shifting the disputes among Athenians over earth, air, fire, and water to human virtue, Socrates gave Western philosophy and ethics a new intellectual center (Cassier 1944).

But sometimes his relentless arguments would go nowhere. On one occasion, he sparred with the philosopher Hippias about the difference between truth and falsehood. Hippias was worn into submission but retorted at the end, “I cannot agree with you, Socrates.” And then the master concluded: “Nor I with myself, Hippias. . . . I go astray, up and down, and never hold the same opinion.” Socrates admitted to being so clever that he had befuddled himself. No wonder he was a favorite target of the comic poets. I. F. Stone likens this wizardry to “whales of the intellect flailing about in deep seas” (Stone 1988).

With his young friend Meno, Socrates argued whether virtue is teachable. Meno was eager to learn more, after “holding forth often on the subject in front of large audiences.” But he complained, “You are exercising magic and witchcraft upon me and positively laying me under your spell until I am just a mass of helplessness. . . . You are exactly like the flat stingray that one meets in the sea. Whenever anyone comes into contact with it, it numbs him, and that is the sort of thing you seem to be doing to me now. My mind and my lips are literally numb.”

Philosophy is not a semantic game, though sometimes its idiosyncrasies feed that response into the popular mind. Media Ethics: Issues and Cases does not debunk philosophy as the excess of sovereign reason. The authors of this book will not encourage those who ridicule philosophy as cunning xiirhetoric. The issue at stake here is actually a somewhat different problem—the Cartesian model of philosophizing.

The founder of modern philosophy, René Descartes, preferred to work in solitude. Paris was whirling in the early 17th century, but for two years even Descartes’s friends could not find him as he squirreled himself away studying mathematics. One can even guess the motto above his desk: “Happy is he who lives in seclusion.” Imagine the conditions under which he wrote “Meditations II.” The Thirty Years’ War in Europe brought social chaos everywhere. The Spanish were ravaging the French provinces and even threatening Paris, but Descartes was shut away in an apartment in Holland. Tranquility for philosophical speculation mattered so much to him that upon hearing Galileo had been condemned by the Church, he retracted parallel arguments of his own on natural science. Pure philosophy as an abstract enterprise needed a cool atmosphere isolated from everyday events.

Descartes’s magnificent formulations have always had their detractors, of course. David Hume did not think of philosophy in those terms, believing as he did that sentiment is the foundation of morality. For Søren Kierkegaard, an abstract system of ethics is only paper currency with nothing to back it up. Karl Marx insisted that we change the world and not merely explain it. But no one drew the modern philosophical map more decisively than Descartes, and his mode of rigid inquiry has generally defined the field’s parameters.

This book adopts the historical perspective suggested by Stephen Toulmin: The philosophy whose legitimacy the critics challenge is always the seventeenth century tradition founded primarily upon René Descartes. . . . [The] arguments are directed to one particular style of philosophizing—a theory-centered style which poses philosophical problems, and frames solutions to them, in timeless and universal terms. From 1650, this particular style was taken as defining the very agenda of philosophy (1988, 338).

The 17th-century philosophers set aside the particular, the timely, the local, and the oral. And that development left untouched nearly half of the philosophical agenda. Indeed, it is those neglected topics—what I here call “practical philosophy”—that are showing fresh signs of life today, at the very time when the more familiar “theory-centered” half of the subject is languishing (Toulmin 1988, 338).

This book collaborates in demolishing the barrier of three centuries between pure and applied philosophy; it joins in reentering practical concerns as the legitimate domain of philosophy itself. For Toulmin, the primary focus of ethics has moved from the study to the bedside to criminal courts, engineering labs, the newsroom, factories, and ethnic street corners. Moral philosophers are not being asked to hand over their duties to

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technical experts xiii in today’s institutions but rather to fashion their agendas within the conditions of contemporary struggle.

All humans have a theoretical capacity. Critical thinking, the reflective dimension, is our common property. And this book nurtures that reflection in communication classrooms and by extension into centers of media practice. If the mind is like a muscle, this volume provides a regimen of exercises for strengthening its powers of systematic reflection and moral discernment. It does not permit those aimless arguments that result in quandary ethics. Instead, it operates in the finest traditions of practical philosophy, anchoring the debates in real-life conundrums but pushing the discussion toward substantive issues and integrating appropriate theory into the decision-making process. It seeks to empower students to do ethics themselves, under the old adage that teaching someone to fish lasts a lifetime, and providing fish only saves the day.

Media Ethics: Issues and Cases arrives on the scene at a strategic time in higher education. Since the late 19th century, ethical questions have been taken from the curriculum as a whole and from the philosophy department. Recovering practical philosophy has involved a revolution during the last decade in which courses in professional ethics have reappeared throughout the curriculum. This book advocates the pervasive method and carries the discussions even further, beyond freestanding courses into communication classrooms across the board.

In this sense, the book represents a constructive response to the current debates over the mission of higher education. Professional ethics has long been saddled with the dilemma that the university was given responsibility for professional training precisely at the point in its history that it turned away from values to scientific naturalism. Today one sees it as a vast horizontal plain given to technical excellence but barren in enabling students to articulate a philosophy of life. As the late James Carey concluded,

Higher education has not been performing well of late and, like most American institutions, is suffering from a confusion of purpose, an excess of ambition that borders on hubris, and an appetite for money that is truly alarming (1989, 48).

The broadside critiques leveled in Thorstein Veblen’s The Higher Learning in America (1918) and Upton Sinclair’s The Goose Step (1922) are now too blatantly obvious to ignore. But Media Ethics: Issues and Cases does not merely demand a better general education or a recommitment to values; it strengthens the communications curriculum by equipping thoughtful students with a more enlightened moral awareness. Since Confucius, we have understood that lighting a candle is better than cursing the darkness, or, in Mother Teresa’s version, we feed the world one mouth at a time.

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xivPreface

More than three decades ago, two of us began the quest of delivering a media ethics textbook grounded in the theory of moral philosophy and using case studies for students to be able to apply the theory learned. In our planning, the book would begin and end with theory—moral philosophy and moral development, respectively—and the chapters in between would be topical and cross all mediums. So instead of chapter titles such as “journalism” or “public relations” you see titles such as “loyalty” and “privacy.”

Despite the passage of decades, our foundational assumption remains that the media and democracy need one another to survive. If there is a single animating idea in this book, it is that whether your focus is entertainment, news, or strategic communication, whether your role is that of a professional or a parent, your “job” is made easier in a functioning democracy. And democracy functions best with a free and independent mass media that spurs change, reifies culture, and provides opportunity to read and think and explore and create. We believe that thinking about and understanding ethics makes you better at whatever profession you choose—and whatever your role when you get home from work. This book remains optimistic about the very tough times in which we find ourselves.

Let’s begin with what’s been left out and conclude with what you’ll find in the text. First, you’ll find no media bashing in this book. There’s enough of that already, and besides, it’s too easy to do. This book is not designed to indict the media; it’s designed to train its future practitioners. If we dwell on ethical lapses from the past, it is only to learn from them what we can do to prevent similar occurrences in the future. Second, you’ll find no conclusions in this book—neither at the end of the book nor after each case. No one has xvyet written the conclusive chapter to the ethical dilemmas of the media, and we don’t suspect that we will be the first.

All along, the cases were to be the “stars” of the book—mostly real life (as opposed to hypothetical), usually recent and largely guest-written, especially when we could find someone who lived in close proximity to the market where the case study happened. We would end each case with pedagogical questions. These began, at the lowest level, with the actual details of the case and were called “micro issues.” The questions then went out in ever-widening concentric circles to larger issues and deeper questions and eventually ended at debating some of the largest issues in society such as justice, race, fairness, truth-telling, media’s role in a democracy, and many others. We called these “macro issues.” The questions were not answered in the textbook. It was left to the student and the professor to arrive at an answer that could be justified given the ethical underpinnings of the text.

This simple idea became popular and subsequent editions added to the depth of the chapters and the recency of the cases. As the field changed and student majors within the field changed, so did the book. Some additions, including an “international” chapter and a “new media” chapter, came and went, and the material was absorbed in other places in the book. Writing about “public relations” became “strategic communications” with all the nuances that entailed. Social media rocked our industry and changed our economic model, and the book followed with the obvious ethical issues that citizen journalism brought with it. At every stage, it remained a true media ethics textbook and not simply a journalism ethics book. Both the current chapters and current cases bear that out.

This ninth edition brings with it many changes, the major ones being a new publisher, a new co-author, and a new chapter on social justice. More than half of all cases also are new. But a large amount of the text remains the same and a significant minority of the cases also remain in the textbook. These decisions mirror the state of the field of media ethics: some of the problems media professionals face today are new; others are as old as our professions.

Each of us bears a significant debt of gratitude to families, to teachers and mentors, to colleagues, and to our new and delightful publisher. We acknowledge their contributions to our intellectual and moral development in making this textbook possible, and we accept the flaws of this book as our own.xvi

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11 An Introduction to Ethical Decision-Making

By the end of this chapter, you should be able to

• recognize the need for professional ethics in journalism • work through a model of ethical decision-making • identify and use the five philosophical principles applicable to mass communication situations

MAKING ETHICAL DECISIONS

No matter your professional niche in mass communication, the past few years have been nothing short of an assault on the business model that supports your organization and pays your salary, on the role you play in a democratic society, on whether your job might be better—and certainly more cheaply—done by a robot or an algorithm.

Consider the following ethical decisions that made the news:

• the New York Times choosing to call President Donald J. Trump a liar in its news columns as well as on the editorial pages. National Public Radio made a different decision, refusing to use the word in its news coverage;

• Facebook users who, in the last two weeks of the US presidential election, chose to share “news stories” originating with Russian bots more frequently than they shared news stories from legitimate news organizations. Meanwhile, Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg continued to assert that Facebook is not a media organization;

• 2the Gannett Corporation and Gatehouse Media closed down copy desks at individual newspapers in favor of a regional copy hub system, thereby ensuring that local news would no longer be edited in individual media markets;

• H&R Block purchasing “native advertising” that included a photo of a woman “taking a break” after filling out her name and address on her income tax forms. Native advertising is now found ubiquitously online and in legacy publications such as the New York Times and the Atlantic. Comedian John Oliver has skewered the practice in multiple segments, noting, “It’s not trickery. It’s sharing storytelling tools. And that’s not bullshit. It’s repurposed bovine waste”;

• television journalists and other cable personalities charging their employers, specifically Fox News management, with systemic sexual harassment;

• films such as Get Out—with its blend of horror and science fiction—that included some subtle and some in-your-face messages about race—earning critical and box office success. The year before Get Out was released, the Academy Awards were the focus of furious criticism for a lack of diversity in nominations, the Oscar-so-white movement;

• and last, but in many ways the most central, President Donald J. Trump, less than six months into his administration, labeling “the media” as the enemy of the people, a characterization that was greeted with anger and alarm by some and embraced by others.

In a campaign video released in August 2017, the day after the far-right rally in Charlottesville, Virginia, killed one and injured many others, African-American journalist April Ryan stated that she and other journalists had been singled out as an “enemy of the White House.” The video, titled “Let President Trump do his job” included small images of a dozen journalists while the voiceover described “the media attacking our president” and referred to “the president’s enemies” who “don’t want him to succeed.” Ryan, a veteran White House correspondent for the American Urban Radio Networks and a political analyst for CNN, responded with a tweet castigating the campaign’s “racial hate.”

Each of these instances represent an ethical choice, decisions that most often begin with individuals but are 14

Each of these instances represent an ethical choice, decisions that most often begin with individuals but are then reinforced by the profit-making organizations for which they work or by the social organizations in which people willingly participate. Almost all of them include the element of melding roles—am I acting as a news reporter or as a consumer, as a private citizen or as a professional, as an audience member who understands that comedians can sometimes speak a certain sort of truth, or as an objective 3 reporter for whom words that imply or state an opinion are forbidden. As young professionals, you are told to “promote your own brand” while simultaneously promoting your client, your news organization, or your profession. It’s a staggering array of requirements and obligations, made more difficult by the very public nature—and the potential public response—that your decisions will inevitably provoke. A simple Google search of each of the foregoing ethical choices will open up a world of conflicting opinions.

The Dilemma of Dilemmas The summaries above are dilemmas—they present an ethical problem with no single (or simple) “right” answer. Resolving dilemmas is the business of ethics. It’s not an easy process, but ethical dilemmas can be anticipated and prepared for, and there is a wealth of ethical theory—some of it centuries old—to back up your final decision. In this chapter and throughout this book, you will be equipped with both the theories and the tools to help solve the dilemmas that arise in working for the mass media.

In the end, you will have tools, not answers. Answers must come from within you, but your answers should be informed by what others have written and experienced. Otherwise, you will always be forced to solve each ethical problem without the benefit of anyone else’s insight. Gaining these tools also will help you to prevent each dilemma from spiraling into “quandary ethics”—the feeling that no best choice is available and that everyone’s choice is equally valid (see Deni Elliott’s essay following this chapter).

Will codes of ethics help? Virtually all the media associations have one, but they have limitations. For instance, the ethics code for the Society of Professional Journalists could be read to allow for revealing or withholding information, two actions that are polar opposites. That doesn’t make the code useless; it simply points out a shortfall in depending on codes.

While we don’t dismiss codes, we believe you will find more universally applicable help in the writings of philosophers, ancient and modern, introduced in this chapter.

This book, or any ethics text, should teach more than a set of rules. It should give you the skills, analytical models, vocabulary, and insights of others who have faced these choices, to make and justify your ethical decisions.

Some writers claim that ethics can’t be taught. It’s situational, some claim. Because every message is unique, there is no real way to learn ethics other than by daily life. Ethics, it is argued, is something you have, not something you do. But while it’s true that reading about ethics is no guarantee you will perform your job ethically, thinking about ethics is a skill anyone can acquire.

4While each area of mass communication has its unique ethical issues, thinking about ethics is the same, whether you make your living writing advertising copy or obituaries. Thinking about ethics won’t necessarily make tough choices easier, but, with practice, your ethical decision-making can become more consistent. A consistently ethical approach to your work as a reporter, designer, or copywriter in whatever field of mass communication you enter can improve that work as well.

Ethics and Morals Contemporary professional ethics revolves around these questions:

• What duties do I have, and to whom do I owe them? • What values are reflected by the duties I’ve assumed?

Ethics takes us out of the world of “This is the way I do it” or “This is the way it’s always been done” into the realm of “This is what I should do” or “This is the action that can be rationally justified.” Ethics in this sense is “ought talk.” The questions arising from duty and values can be answered a number of ways as long as they are consistent with each other. For example, a journalist and a public relations professional may see the truth of a story differently because they see their duties differently and because there are different values at work in their professions, but each can be acting ethically if they are operating under the imperatives of “oughtness” for their profession.

It is important here to distinguish between ethics, a rational process founded on certain agreed-on principles, and morals, which are in the realm of religion. The Ten Commandments are a moral system in the Judeo- Christian tradition, and Jewish scholars have expanded this study of the laws throughout the Bible’s Old

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Testament into the Talmud, a 1,000-page religious volume. The Buddhist Eightfold Path provides a similar moral framework.

But moral systems are not synonymous with ethics. Ethics begins when elements within a moral system conflict. Ethics is less about the conflict between right and wrong than it is about the conflict between equally compelling (or equally unattractive) alternatives and the choices that must be made between them. Ethics is just as often about the choices between good and better or poor and worse than about right and wrong, which tends to be the domain of morals.

When elements within a moral system conflict, ethical principles can help you make tough choices. We’ll review several ethical principles briefly after describing how one philosopher, Sissela Bok, says working professionals can learn to make good ethical decisions.

A Word about Ethics

The concept of ethics comes from the Greeks, who divided the philosophical world into separate disciplines. Aesthetics was the study of the beautiful and how a person could analyze beauty without relying only on subjective evaluations. Epistemology was the study of knowing, debates about what constitutes learning and what is knowable. Ethics was the study of what is good, both for the individual and for society. Interestingly, the root of the word means “custom” or “habit,” giving ethics an underlying root of behavior that is long established and beneficial to the ongoing of society. The Greeks were also concerned with the individual virtues of fortitude, justice, temperance, and wisdom, as well as with societal virtues such as freedom.

Two thousand years later, ethics has come to mean learning to make rational decisions among an array of choices, all of which may be morally justifiable, but some more so than others. Rationality is the key word here, for the Greeks believed, and modern philosophers affirm, that people should be able to explain their ethical decisions to others and that acting ethically could be shown to be a rational decision to make. That ability to explain ethical choices is an important one for media professionals whose choices are so public. When confronted with an angry public, “It seemed like the right thing to do at the time” is a personally embarrassing and ethically unsatisfactory explanation.

5BOK’S MODEL

Bok’s ethical decision-making framework was introduced in her book Lying: Moral Choice in Public and Private Life. Bok’s model is based on two premises: that we must have empathy for the people involved in ethical decisions and that maintaining social trust is a fundamental goal. With this in mind, Bok says any ethical question should be analyzed in three steps.

First, consult your own conscience about the “rightness” of an action. How do you feel about the action? Second, seek expert advice for alternatives to the act creating the ethical problem. Experts, by the way, can

be those either living or dead—a producer or editor you trust or a philosopher you admire. Is there another professionally acceptable way to achieve the same goal that will not raise ethical issues?

Third, if possible, conduct a public discussion with the parties involved in the dispute. These include those who are directly involved such as a reporter or their source, and those indirectly involved such as a reader or a media outlet owner. If they cannot be gathered—and that will most often be the case—you can conduct the conversation hypothetically in your head, playing 6out the roles. The goal of this conversation is to discover How will others respond to the proposed act?

Let’s see how Bok’s model works in the following scenario. In the section after the case, follow the three steps Bok recommends and decide if you would run the story.

How Much News Is Fit to Print? In your community, the major charity is the United Way. The annual fundraising drive will begin in less than two weeks. However, at a late-night meeting of the board with no media present, the executive director resigns. Though the agency is not covered by the Open Meetings Act, you are able to learn most of what went on from a source on the board.

According to her, the executive director had taken pay from the agency by submitting a falsified time sheet while he was actually away at the funeral of a college roommate. The United Way board investigated the absence and asked for his resignation, citing the lying about the absence as the reason, though most agreed that they would have given him paid leave had he asked.

The United Way wants to issue a short statement, praising the work of the executive director while regretfully accepting his resignation. The executive director also will issue a short statement citing other opportunities as his reason for leaving. You are assigned the story by an editor who does not know about the additional information you have obtained but wants you to “see if there’s any more to it [the resignation] than they’re telling.”

You call your source on the board and she asks you, as a friend, to withhold the damaging information 16

You call your source on the board and she asks you, as a friend, to withhold the damaging information because it will hinder the United Way’s annual fund-raising effort and jeopardize services to needy people in the community because faith in the United Way will be destroyed. You confront the executive director. He says he already has a job interview with another non-profit and if you run the story you will ruin his chances of a future career.

What do you do?

THE ANALYSIS

Bok’s first step requires you to consult your conscience. When you do, you realize you have a problem. Your responsibility is to tell the truth, and that means providing readers with all the facts you discover. You also have a larger responsibility not to harm your community, and printing the complete story might well cause short-term harm. Clearly, your conscience is of two minds about the issue.

7You move to the second step: alternatives. Do you simply run the resignation release, figuring that the person can do no further harm and therefore should be left alone? Do you run the whole story but buttress it with board members’ quotes that such an action couldn’t happen again, figuring that you have restored public trust in the agency? Do you do nothing until after the fundraising drive and risk the loss of trust from readers if the story circulates around town as a rumor? Again, there are alternatives, but each has some cost.

In the third step of Bok’s model, you will attempt to hold a public ethical dialogue with all of the parties involved. Most likely you won’t get all the parties into the newsroom on deadline. Instead you can conduct an imaginary discussion among the parties involved. Such a discussion might go like this:

EXECUTIVE DIRECTOR: “I think my resignation is sufficient penalty for any mistake I might have made, and your article will jeopardize my ability to find another job. It’s really hurting my wife and kids, and they’ve done nothing wrong.” REPORTER: “But shouldn’t you have thought about that before you decided to falsify the time sheet? This is a good story, and I think the public should know what the people who are handling their donations are like.” READER 1: “Wait a minute. I am the public, and I’m tired of all of this bad news your paper focuses on. This man has done nothing but good in the community, and I can’t see where any money that belonged to the poor went into his pocket. Why can’t we see some good news for a change?” READER 2: “I disagree. I buy the paper precisely because it does this kind of reporting. Stories like this that keep the government, the charities and everyone else on their toes.” PUBLISHER: “You mean like a watchdog function.” READER 2: “Exactly. And if it bothers you, don’t read it.” PUBLISHER: “I don’t really like to hurt people with the power we have, but if we don’t print stories like this, and the community later finds out that we withheld news, our credibility is ruined, and we’re out of business.” [To source] “Did you request that the information be off the record?” SOURCE: “No. But I never thought you’d use it in your story.” REPORTER: “I’m a reporter. I report what I hear for a living. What did you think I would do with it? Stories like these allow me to support my family.” EXECUTIVE DIRECTOR: “So it’s your career or mine, is that what you’re saying? Look, no charges have been filed here, but if your story runs, I look like a criminal. Is that fair?” PUBLISHER: “And if it doesn’t run, we don’t keep our promise to the community. Is that fair?” NEEDY MOTHER: “Fair? You want to talk fair? Do you suffer if the donations go down? No, I do. This is just another story to you. It’s the difference in me and my family getting by.”

8The conversation could continue, and other points of view could be voiced. Your imaginary conversations could be more or less elaborate than the one above, but out of this discussion it should be possible to rationally support an ethical choice.

There are two cautions in using Bok’s model for ethical decision-making. First, it is important to go through all three steps before making a final choice. Most of us make ethical choices prematurely, after we’ve consulted only our consciences, an error Bok says results in a lot of flabby moral thinking. Second, while you will not be endowed with any clairvoyant powers to anticipate your ethical problems, the ethical dialogue outlined in the third step is best when conducted in advance of the event, not in the heat of writing a story.

For instance, an advertising copywriter might conduct such a discussion about whether advertising copy can ethically withhold disclaimers about potential harm from a product. A reporter might conduct such a discussion well in advance of the time he is actually asked to withhold an embarrassing name or fact from a story. Since it is likely that such dilemmas will arise in your chosen profession (the illustration above is based on what happened to one of the authors the first day on the job), your answer will be more readily available and more logical if you hold such discussions either with trusted colleagues in a casual atmosphere or by yourself, well in advance of the problem. The cases in this book are selected partially for their ability to predict your on-the-job dilemmas and start the ethical discussion now.

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GUIDELINES FOR MAKING ETHICAL DECISIONS

Since the days of ancient Greece, philosophers have tried to draft a series of rules or guidelines governing how to make ethical choices. In ethical dilemmas such as the one above, you will need principles to help you determine what to do amid conflicting voices. While a number of principles work well, we will review five.

Aristotle’s Golden Mean Aristotle believed that happiness—which some scholars translate as “flourishing”—was the ultimate human good. By flourishing, Aristotle sought to elevate any activity through the setting of high standards, what he called exercising “practical reasoning.”

Aristotle believed that practical reason was exercised by individuals who understood what the Greeks called the “virtues” and demonstrated them 9in their lives and calling. Such a person was the phrenemos, or person of practical wisdom, who demonstrated ethical excellence in his or her daily activity. For Aristotle, the highest virtue was citizenship, and its highest practitioner the statesman, a politician who exercised so much practical wisdom in his daily activity that he elevated the craft of politics to art. In contemporary terms, we might think of a phrenemos as a person who excels at any of a variety of activities—cellist Yo-Yo Ma, the late poet Maya Angelou, filmmakers George Lucas and Steven Spielberg. They are people who flourish in their professional performance, extending our own vision of what is possible.

This notion of flourishing led Aristotle to assert that people acting virtuously are the moral basis of his ethical system, not those who simply follow rules. His ethical system is now called virtue ethics. Virtue ethics flows from both the nature of the act itself and the moral character of the person who acts. In the Aristotelian sense, the way to behave ethically is that (1) you must know (through the exercise of practical reasoning) what you are doing; (2) you must select the act for its own sake—in order to flourish; and (3) the act itself must spring from a firm and unchanging character.

Figure 1.1. Calvin and Hobbes © 1989 Watterson. Reprinted with permission of Andrews McMeel Syndication. All rights reserved.

10 It is not stretching Aristotle’s framework to assert that one way to learn ethics is to select heroes and to try to model your individual acts and ultimately your professional character on what you believe they would do. An Aristotelian might well consult this hero as an expert when making an ethical choice. Asking what my hero would do in a particular situation is a valid form of ethical analysis. The trick, however, is to select your heroes carefully and continue to think for yourself rather than merely copy behavior you have seen previously.

What then is a virtue? Virtue lies at the mean between two extremes of excess and deficiency, a reduction of Aristotle’s philosophy often called the “Golden Mean” as shown in table 1.1. Courage, for example, is a mean between foolhardiness on one hand and cowardice on the other. But to determine that mean for yourself, you have to exercise practical wisdom, act according to high standards, and act in accordance with firm and continuing character traits.

Table 1.1. Aristotle’s Golden Mean Unacceptable Behaviors (Deficiency) Acceptable Behaviors Unacceptable Behaviors (Excess)

Cowardice Courage Foolhardiness

Shamelessness Modesty Bashfulness

Stinginess Generosity Wastefulness

In reality, therefore, the middle ground of a virtue is not a single point on a line that is the same for every individual. It is instead a range of behaviors that varies individually, while avoiding the undesirable extremes.

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Candor is a good example of a virtue that is most certainly contextual—what is too blunt in one instance is kind in another. Consider two witnesses to a potential drowning: one onlooker is a poor swimmer but a fast runner, the other is a good swimmer but a slow runner. What is cowardice for one is foolhardy for the other. Each can exhibit courage, but in different ways.

Seeking the golden mean implies that individual acts are not disconnected from one another, but collectively form a whole that a person of good character should aspire to. A virtue theory of ethics is not outcome- oriented. Instead, it is agent-oriented, and right actions in a virtue theory of ethics are a result of an agent seeking virtue and accomplishing it. As Aristotle wrote in Nicomachean Ethics, “we learn an art or craft by doing the things that we shall have to do when we have learnt it: for instance, men become builders by building houses, harpers by playing on the harp. Similarly we become just by doing just acts, temperate by doing temperate acts, brave by doing brave acts.”

11Far from being old-fashioned, Aristotle’s concept of virtue ethics has been rediscovered by a variety of professions. As Kenneth Woodward (1994) states in a Newsweek essay entitled “What is Virtue?” a call for virtue is still relevant today:

But before politicians embrace virtue as their latest election-year slogan, they would do well to tune into contemporary philosophy. Despite the call for virtue, we live in an age of moral relativism. According to the dominant school of moral philosophy, the skepticism engendered by the Enlightenment has reduced all ideas of right and wrong to matters of personal taste, emotional preference or cultural choice. . . . Against this moral relativism, advocates of the “ethics of virtue” argue that some personal choices are morally superior to others.

Kant’s Categorical Imperative Immanuel Kant is best known for his categorical imperative, which is most often stated in two ways. The first asserts that an individual should act as if the choices one makes for oneself could become universal law. The second states that you should act so that you treat each individual as an end and never as merely a means. Kant called these two rules “categorical” imperatives, meaning that their demands were universal and not subject to situational factors. Many readers will recognize the similarity between Kant’s first manifestation of the categorical imperative and the Bible’s golden rule: Do unto others as you would have others do unto you. The two are quite similar in their focus on duty.

Kant’s ethical theory is based on the notion that it is in the act itself, rather than the person who acts, where moral force resides. This theory of ethics is unlike Aristotle’s in that it moves the notion of what is ethical from the actor to the act itself. This does not mean that Kant did not believe in moral character, but rather that people could act morally from a sense of duty even if their character might incline them to act otherwise.

For Kant, an action was morally justified only if it was performed from duty—motive matters to Kant—and in Kant’s moral universe there were two sorts of duties. The strict duties were generally negative: not to murder, not to break promises, not to lie. The meritorious duties were more positive: to aid others, to develop one’s talents, to show gratitude. Kant spent very little time defining these notions, but philosophers have generally asserted that the strict duties are somewhat more morally mandatory than the meritorious duties.

Some have argued that consequences are not important in Kant’s ethical reasoning. We prefer a somewhat less austere reading of Kant. While Kant’s view is that the moral worth of an action does not depend on its consequences, those consequences are not irrelevant. For example, a surgeon 12 may show moral virtue in attempting to save a patient through an experimental procedure, but the decision about whether to undertake that procedure requires taking into account the probability of a cure. This framing of Kantian principles allows us to learn from our mistakes.

The test of a moral act, according to Kant, is its universality—whether it can be applied to everyone. For instance, under Kant’s categorical imperative, journalists can claim few special privileges, such as the right to lie or the right to invade privacy in order to get a story. Kant’s view, if taken seriously, reminds you of what you give up—truth, privacy, and the like—when you make certain ethical decisions.

Utilitarianism The original articulation of utilitarianism by Englishmen Jeremy Bentham and later John Stuart Mill in the 19th century introduced what was then a novel notion into ethics discussions: the consequences of actions are important in deciding whether they are ethical. In the utilitarian view, it may be considered ethical to harm one person for the benefit of the larger group. This approach, for example, is the ethical justification for investigative reporting, the results of which may harm individuals even as they are printed or broadcast in the hope of providing a greater societal good.

The appeal of utilitarianism is that it has proven to mesh well with Western thought, particularly on human rights. Harvard ethicist Arthur Dyck (1977, 55) writes of Mill:

He took the view that the rightness or wrongness of any action is decided by its consequences. . . . His particular understanding of what is

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He took the view that the rightness or wrongness of any action is decided by its consequences. . . . His particular understanding of what is best on the whole was that which brings about the most happiness or the least suffering, i.e., the best balance of pleasure over pain for the greatest number.

The benefit of utilitarianism is that it provides a principle by which rightness and wrongness can be identified and judged, conflicts can be resolved, and exceptions can be decided. The utilitarian calculus also has made possible the “quantification of welfare” Dyck says, allowing governments to make decisions that create the most favorable balance of benefits over harms.

With its focus on the consequences of an action, utilitarianism completes a cycle begun with Aristotle (see table 1.2). Aristotle, in developing the golden mean, focused on the actor. Kant, in his categorical imperative, focused on the action, while Mill, in his utilitarian philosophy, focused on the outcome.

Table 1.2. The Shifting Focus of Ethics from Aristotle to Mill Philosopher Known For Popularly Known As Emphasized

Aristotle Golden mean Virtue lies between extremes. The actor

Kant Categorical imperative Act so your choices could be universal law; treat humanity as an end, never as a means only. The action

Mill Utility principle An act’s rightness is determined by its contribution to a desirable end. The outcome

Utilitarianism has been condensed to the ethical philosophy of the “greatest good for the greatest number.” While this pithy phrase is a very rough and 13ready characterization of utilitarian theory, it also has led to an overly mechanistic application of the principle: Just tally up the amount of good and subtract the amount of harm. If the remaining number is positive, the act is ethical. However, when properly applied, utilitarianism is not mechanical.

To do justice to utilitarian theory, it must be understood within a historical context. Mill wrote after the changes of the Enlightenment. The principle of democracy was fresh and untried, and the thought that the average person should be able to speak his mind to those in power was novel. Utilitarianism, as Mill conceived of it, was a profoundly social ethic; Mill was among the first to acknowledge that the good of an entire society had a place in ethical reasoning.

Mill was what philosophers call a valuational hedonist. He argued that pleasure—and the absence of pain— was the only intrinsic moral end. Mill further asserted that an act was right in the proportion in which it contributed to general happiness. Conversely, an act was wrong in the proportion in which it contributed to general unhappiness or pain. Utilitarianism can be subtle and complex in that the same act can make some happy but cause others pain. Mill insisted that both outcomes be valued simultaneously, a precarious activity but one that forces discussion of competing stakeholder claims.

In utilitarian theory, no one’s happiness is any more valuable than anyone else’s, and definitely not more valuable than everyone’s—quantity and quality being equal. In democratic societies, this is a particularly important concept because it meshes well with certain social and political goals. In application, utilitarianism has a way of puncturing entrenched self-interest, but when badly applied, it can actually promote social selfishness.

Utilitarianism also suggests that moral questions are objective, empirical, and. even in some sense, scientific. Utilitarianism promotes a universal ethical standard that each rational person can determine. However, utilitarianism is among the most criticized of philosophical principles because it is 14 so difficult to accurately anticipate all the consequences of a particular act. Different philosophers also have disputed how one calculates the good, rendering any utilitarian calculus fundamentally error prone.

While utilitarianism is a powerful theory, too many rely exclusively on it. Taken to extremes, the act of calculating the good can lead to ethical gridlock, with each group of stakeholders having seemingly equally strong claims with little way to choose among them. Sloppily done, utilitarianism may bias the user toward short-term benefit, which is often contrary to the nature of ethical decisions.

Pluralistic Theory of Value Philosopher William David Ross (1930) based his ethical theory on the belief that there is often more than one ethical value simultaneously “competing” for preeminence in our ethical decision-making, a tension set up in the title of his book The Right and the Good. Commenting on the tension, ethicist Christopher Meyers (2003, 84) says,

As the book title suggests, Ross distinguished between the right and the good. The latter term refers to an objective, if indefinable, quality present in all acts. It is something seen, not done. Right, on the other hand, refers to actions. A right action is something undertaken by persons motivated by correct reasons and on careful reflection. Not all right actions, however, will be productive of the good.

In acknowledging the competition between the good and the right, Ross differs from Kant or Mill, who 20

In acknowledging the competition between the good and the right, Ross differs from Kant or Mill, who proposed only one ultimate value. To Ross, these competing ethical claims, which he calls duties, are equal, provided that the circumstances of the particular moral choice are equal. Further, these duties gain their moral weight not from their consequences but from the highly personal nature of duty.

Ross proposed these types of duties:

1. those duties of fidelity, based on my implicit or explicit promise; 2. those duties of reparation, arising from a previous wrongful act; 3. those duties of gratitude that rest on previous acts of others; 4. those duties of justice that arise from the necessity to ensure the equitable and meritorious distribution of

pleasure or happiness; 5. those duties of beneficence that rest on the fact that there are others in the world whose lot we can better; 6. those duties of self-improvement that rest on the fact that we can improve our own condition; and 7. one negative duty: the duty of not injuring others.

15We would recommend two additional duties that may be implied by Ross’ list but are not specifically stated:

1. the duty to tell the truth, veracity (which may be implied by fidelity); and 2. the duty to nurture, to help others achieve some measure of self-worth and achievement.

Ross’ typology of duties works well for professionals who often must balance competing roles. It also brings to ethical reasoning some affirmative notions of the primacy of community and relationships as a way to balance the largely rights-based traditions of much Western philosophical theory.

Like Kant, Ross divided his duties into two kinds. Prima facie duties are those duties that seem to be right because of the nature of the act itself. Duty proper (also called actual duties) are those duties that are paramount given specific circumstances. Arriving at your duty proper from among the prima facie duties requires that you consider what ethicists call the morally relevant differences. But Ross (1988, 24) warns that

there is no reason to anticipate that every act that is our duty is so for one and the same reason. Why should two sets or circumstances, or one set of circumstances not possess different characteristics, any one of which makes a certain act our prima facie duty?

Let’s take an example using one of Ross’ prima facie duties: keeping promises. In your job as a reporter, you have made an appointment with the mayor to discuss a year-end feature on your community. On your way to City Hall, you drive by a serious auto accident and see a young child wandering, dazed, along the road. If you stop to help you will certainly be late for your appointment and may have to cancel altogether. You have broken a promise.

But is that act ethical? Ross would probably say yes because the specific aspects of the situation had a bearing on the fulfillment of a

prima facie duty. You exercised discernment. You knew that your commitment to the mayor was a relatively minor sort of promise. Your news organization will not be hurt by postponing the interview, and your act allowed you to fulfill the prima facie duties of beneficence, avoiding harm and nurturing. Had the interview been more important, or the wreck less severe, the morally relevant factors would have been different. Ross’ pluralistic theory of values may be more difficult to apply than a system of absolute rules, but it reflects the way we make ethical choices.

Ross’ concept of multiple duties “helps to explain why we feel uneasy about breaking a promise even when we are justified in doing so. Our uneasiness comes from the fact that we have broken a prima facie duty even as we fulfilled another” (Lebacqz 1985, 27).

16Communitarianism Classical ethical theory places its dominant intellectual emphasis on the individual and individual acts by emphasizing concepts such as character, choice, liberty, and duty. But contemporary realities point out the intellectual weakness in this approach. Consider the environment. On many environmental questions, it is possible for people to make appropriate individual decisions—today I drive my car—that taken together promote environmental degradation. My individual decision to drive my car (or to purchase a hybrid car) doesn’t matter very much; when individual decisions accumulate, however, the impact is profound not only for a single generation but for subsequent ones as well.

Communitarianism, which has its roots in political theory, seeks to provide ethical guidance when confronting the sort of society-wide issues that mark current political and business activity. Communitarianism returns to Aristotle’s concept of the “polis”—or community—and invests it with moral weight. People begin their lives, at least in a biological sense, as members of a two-person community.

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Communitarian philosophy extends this biological beginning to a philosophical worldview. “In communitarianism, persons have certain inescapable claims on one another that cannot be renounced except at the cost of their humanity” (Christians, Ferré, and Fackler 1993, 14). Communitarians assert that when issues are political and social, community interests trump individual interests but does not trample them.

Communitarianism focuses on the outcome of individual ethical decisions analyzed in light of their potential to impact society. And when applied to journalism, you have a product “committed to justice, covenant and empowerment. Authentic communities are marked by justice; in strong democracies, courageous talk is mobilized into action. . . . In normative communities, citizens are empowered for social transformation, not merely freed from external constraints” (Christians et al. 1993 , 14).

Communitarianism asserts that social justice is the predominant moral value. Communitarians recognize the value of process but are just as concerned with outcomes. History is full of “good” processes that led to bad outcomes. For example, democratic elections led to the 1933 takeover of Germany by a minority party headed by Hitler. It was a democratically written and adopted Constitution that included the three-fifths clause where African-Americans were equal to three-fifths of a single Caucasian for purposes of population count. Under communitarianism, the ability of individual acts to create a more just society is an appropriate measure of their rightness, and outcomes are part of the calculus.

Communitarian thinking allows ethical discussion to include values such as altruism and benevolence on an equal footing with more traditional 17 questions such as truth telling and loyalty. Indeed, Nobel Prize– winning work in game theory has empirically demonstrated that cooperation, one of the foundation stones of community, provides desirable results once thought to be possible only through competition (Axelrod 1984 ). Cooperation is particularly powerful when the “shadow of the future,” an understanding that we will encounter the outcome of our decisions and their impact on others in readily foreseeable time, is taken into account.

Communitarianism suffers from a lack of a succinct summary of its general propositions. However, any notion of a communitarian community begins with the fact that its members would include, as part of their understanding of self, their membership in the community. “For them, community describes not just what they have as fellow citizens but also what they are, not as a relationship they choose (as in a voluntary association) but an attachment they discover, not merely an attribute but as a constituent of their identity” (Sandel 1982 , 150). A communitarian community resembles family more than it resembles town.

Under communitarianism, journalism cannot separate itself from the political and economic system of which it is a part. Communitarian thinking makes it possible to ask whether current practice (for example, a traditional definition of news) provides a good mechanism for a community to discover itself, learn about itself, and ultimately transform itself.

Communitarian reasoning allows journalists to understand their institutional role and to evaluate their performance against shared societal values. For instance, the newsroom adage “if it bleeds it leads” might sell newspapers or attract viewers, but it also might give a false impression of community and its perils to the most vulnerable members. Communitarianism would not ban the coverage of crime but would demand context that would help viewers or readers decide if they need to take action.

Thinking as a communitarian not only mutes the competition among journalistic outlets, it also provides a new agenda for news. Rape stories would include mobilizing information about the local rape crisis center. Political stories would focus on issues, not the horserace or personal scandals, and the coverage would be ample enough for an informed citizenry to cast a knowledgeable ballot. Writers have linked communitarian philosophy with the civic journalism movement. But like the philosophy of communitarianism, the practice of civic journalism has not yet been embraced by the mainstream of society.

THE “SCIENCE” OF ETHICS

Life in the 21st century has changed how most people think about issues, such as what constitutes a fact and what does or does not influence moral certainty. But ethical theory, with its apparent uncertainties and contradictions, 18appears to have taken a back seat to science. As people have become drawn to ethics they seek “the answer” to an ethical dilemma in the same way they seek “the answer” in science. Consequently, the vagaries of ethical choice as contrasted with the seeming certainty of scientific knowledge casts an unfair light on ethics.

We’d like to offer you a different conceptualization of “the facts” of both science and ethics. Science, and the seeming certainty of scientific knowledge, has undergone vast changes in the past 100 years. Before Einstein, most educated people believed that Sir Francis Bacon had accurately and eternally described the basic actions and laws of the physical universe. But Bacon was wrong. Scientific inquiry in the 20th century explored a variety of physical phenomena, uncovered new relationships, new areas of knowledge, and new areas of

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ignorance. The “certainty” of scientific truth has changed fundamentally in the past 100 years, and there is every reason to expect similar changes in this century, especially in the areas of neuroscience, nanotechnology, and artificial intelligence. Science and certainty are not synonymous despite our tendency to blur the two.

Contrast these fundamental changes in the scientific worldview with the developments of moral theory. Aristotle’s writing, more than 2,000 years old, still has much to recommend it to the modern era. The same can be said of utilitarianism and of the Kantian approach—both after 100 years of critical review. Certainly, new moral thinking has emerged—for example, feminist theory, but such work tends to build on rather than radically alter the moral theory that has gone before. Ethical philosophers still have fundamental debates, but these debates have generally tended to deepen previous insights rather than to “prove” them incorrect. Further, thinking about global ethics uncovers some striking areas of agreement. We are aware of no ethical system, for example, that argues that murder is an ethical behavior, or that lying, cheating, and stealing are the sorts of activities that human beings ought to engage in on a regular basis.

From this viewpoint, there is more continuity in thinking about ethics than in scientific thought. When the average person contrasts ethics with science, it is ethics that tends to be viewed as changeable, unsystematic, and idiosyncratic. Science has rigor, proof, and some relationship to an external reality. We would like to suggest that such characterizations arise from a short-term view of the history of science and ethics. In our view, ethics as a field has at least as much continuity of thought as developments in science. And while it cannot often be quantified, it has the rigor, the systematic quality, and the relationship to reality that moderns too often characterize as the exclusive domain of scientific thinking.

19SUGGESTED READINGS

Aristotle. Nicomachean ethics. Bok, S. (1978). Lying: Moral choice in public and private life. New York: Random House. Borden, S. L. (2009). Journalism as practice. Burlington, VT: Ashgate. Christians, C., Ferré, J., & Fackler, M. (1993). Good news: Social ethics and the press. New York: Oxford University Press. Gert, B.. (1988). Morality: A new justification of the moral rules. New York: Oxford University Press. Mill, J. S. On liberty. Pojman, L. (1998). Ethical theory: Classical and contemporary readings. Belmont, CA: Wadsworth. Ross, W. D. (1930). The right and the good. Oxford: Clarendon Press.

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20 ESSAY

CASES AND MORAL SYSTEMS

DENI ELLIOTT University of South Florida–St. Petersburg

Case studies are wonderful vehicles for ethics discussions with strengths that include helping discussants 1. appreciate the complexity of ethical decision-making; 2. understand the context within which difficult decisions are made; 3. track the consequences of choosing one action over another; and 4. learn both how and when to reconcile and to tolerate divergent points of view.

However, when case studies are misused, these strengths become weaknesses. Case studies are vehicles for an ethics discussion, not its ultimate destination. The purpose of an ethics discussion is to teach discussants how to “do ethics”—that is, to teach processes so that discussants can practice and improve their own critical decision-making abilities to reach a reasoned response to the issue at hand.

When the discussion stops short of this point, it is often because the destination has been fogged in by one or more myths of media case discussions:

Myth 1: Every opinion is equally valid. Not true. The best opinion (conclusion) is the one that is best supported by judicious analysis of fact and

theory and one that best addresses the morally relevant factors of the case (Gert 1988 ). An action has morally relevant factors if it is likely to cause some individual to suffer an evil that any rational person would wish to avoid (such as death, disability, pain, or loss of freedom or pleasure), or if it is the kind of action that generally causes evil (such as deception, breaking promises, cheating, disobedience of law, or neglect of duty).

Myth 2: Since we can’t agree on an answer, there is no right answer. In an ethics case, it may be that there are a number of acceptable answers. But there also will be many wrong

answers—many approaches that the group can agree would be unacceptable. When discussants begin to despair of ever reaching any agreement on a right answer or answers, it is time to reflect on all of the agreement that exists within the group concerning the actions that would be out of bounds.

21Myth 3: It hardly matters if you come up with the “ethical thing to do” because people ultimately act out of their own self-interest anyway.

Any institution supported by society—manufacturing firms or media corporations, medical centers, and so on—provides some service that merits that support. No matter what the service, practitioners or companies acting only in the short-term interest (i.e., to make money) will not last long. Both free-market pragmatism and ethics dictate that it makes little sense to ignore the expectations of consumers and of the society at large.

The guidelines below can serve as a map for an ethics discussion. They are helpful to have when working through unfamiliar terrain toward individual end points. They also can help you avoid the myths above. While discussing the case, check to see if these questions are being addressed: 1. What are the morally relevant factors of the case?

(a) Will the proposed action cause an evil—such as death, disability, pain, loss of freedom or opportunity, or loss of pleasure—that any rational person would wish to avoid?

(b) Is the proposed action the sort of action—such as deception, breaking promises, cheating, disobedience of law, or disobedience of professional or role-defined duty—that generally causes evil?

2. If the proposed action is one described above, is a greater evil being prevented or punished by allowing it to go forward?

3. If so, is the actor in a unique position to prevent or punish such an evil, or is that a more appropriate role for some other person or profession?

4. If the actor followed through on the action, would he be allowing himself to be an exception to a rule that he thinks everyone else should follow? (If so, then the action is prudent, not moral.)

5. Finally, would a rational, uninvolved person appreciate the reason for causing harm? Are the journalists ready and able to state, explain, and defend the proposed action in a public forum, or would a more detached journalist be ready to write an expose?

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22CASE

CASE 1-A

HOW TO READ A CASE STUDY

PHILIP PATTERSON Oklahoma Christian University

When you look at the photo, it stirs your emotions. It’s the last moment of one girl’s life (the younger survived). It’s a technically good photo—perhaps a once-in-a-lifetime shot. But when you learn the “back story” of this photo, a world of issues emerges, and the real discussions begin. And that’s the beauty of cases as a way of learning media ethics.

For this case, here is what you need to know. One July afternoon, Boston Herald photographer Stanley Forman answered a call about a fire in one of the city’s older sections. When he arrived, he followed a hunch and ran down the alley to the back of the row of houses. There he saw a 2-year-old girl and her 19-year-old godmother, on the fifth-floor fire escape. A fire truck had raised its aerial ladder to help. Another firefighter was on the roof, tantalizingly close to pulling the girls to safety. Then came a loud noise, the fire escape gave way and the girls tumbled to the ground. Forman saw it all through his 135 mm lens and took four photos as the two were falling.

The case study has several possible angles. You can discuss the gritty reality of the content. You can factor in that within 24 hours, the city of Boston acted to improve the inspection of all fire escapes in the city and that groups across the nation used the photos to promote similar efforts. You can talk about the ingenuity and industry of Forman to go where the story was rather than remain in front where the rest of the media missed it. You can critique his refusal to photograph the girls after impact. You can debate why the Pulitzer Prize committee gave Forman its top prize for this photo and add in the fact that more than half of the various “Picture of the Year” awards over decades are of death or imminent death. You can argue whether the Boston Herald profited off of the death and injury of the girls and what Forman’s role was once he witnessed the tragedy. And you can ponder what happens when this photo hits the internet, stripped of context.

You can talk about any or all of these issues or imagine others. That’s the beauty of a case study—you can go where it takes you. From this one case, you can argue taste in content, media economics (“If it bleeds, it leads”), personal versus professional duty, etc.

23 Perhaps you will want to role play. Perhaps you will ask yourself what Kant or Mill would do if he were the editor or whether a communitarian would approve the means (the photo) because of the end (better fire escape safety). Perhaps you want to talk about the “breakfast test” for objectionable content in the morning paper, whether it passes the test or whether the test ought to exist. Or what values led the paper to run the photo and the committee to give it an award.

During the semester, you can do more than just work through the cases in this book—you can find your own. All around you are cases of meritorious media behavior and cases of questionable media behavior. And, quite frankly, there are cases where good people will disagree over which category the behavior falls into. Good cases make for good discussion, not only now but also when you graduate into the marketplace as well.

So dive in, discuss, and defend.

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Figure 1.2. Stanley J. Forman, Pulitzer Prize 1977. Used with permission.

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242 Information Ethics

A Profession Seeks the Truth

By the end of this chapter, you should be familiar with

• both the Enlightenment and pragmatic constructions of truth • the development and several criticisms of objective news reporting as a professional ideal • why truth in “getting” the news may be as important as truth in reporting it • how to develop a personal list of ethical news values

Each traditional profession has laid claims to a central tenet of philosophy. Law is equated with justice, medicine with the duty to render aid. Journalism, too, has a lofty ideal: the communication of truth.

But the ideal of truth is problematic. We often consider truth a stable commodity: it doesn’t change much for us on a day-to-day basis, nor does it vary greatly among members of a community. However, the concept of truth has changed throughout history. At one level or another, human beings since ancient times have acknowledged that how truth is defined may vary. Since Plato’s analogy of life as experienced by individual human beings as “truthful” in the same way as shadows on the wall of a cave resemble the physical objects that cast those shadows more than 3,000 years ago, people have grappled with the amorphous nature of truth. Today, while we accept some cultural “lies”—the existence of Santa Claus—we condemn others—income tax evasion or fabricating an employment history. Most of the time, we know what the boundaries are, at least when we deal with one another face-to-face.

Compounding the modern problem of the shifting nature of truth is the changing media audience. When a profession accepts the responsibility of 25printing and broadcasting the truth, facts that are apparent in face- to-face interaction become subject to different interpretations among the geographically and culturally diverse readers and viewers. Ideas once readily accepted are open to debate. Telling the truth becomes not merely a matter of possessing good moral character but something that requires learning how to recognize truth and conveying it in the least distorted manner possible.

A CHANGING VIEW OF TRUTH

One pre-Socratic Greek tradition viewed truth—alethea—as encompassing what humans remember, singled out through memory from everything that is destined for Lethe, the river of forgetfulness (Bok 1978). Linking truth and remembrance is essential in an oral culture, one that requires that information be memorized and repeated so as not to be forgotten. Repeating the message, often in the form of songs or poetry, meant that ideas and knowledge were kept alive or true for subsequent generations. Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey or much of the Bible’s Old Testament served this function.

This oral notion of truth, as noted in table 2.1, was gradually discarded once words and ideas were written down. However, it has come to the fore with the advent of television and its computer cousins such as YouTube that allow viewers to hear the words of the president rather than wait for those words to be passed down to them. When we see something on television or our computer screen, we assume that it closely corresponds to reality. The maxim “seeing is believing” reminds us that truth has become entangled with pictures, an oral concept of truth that has been a dormant form of knowledge for hundreds of years until technology made “seeing” events live worldwide possible.

Table 2.1. A Philosophy of Truth Emerges Source Truth Equals

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Ancient Greeks What is memorable and is handed down

Plato What abides in the world of perfect forms

Medieval What the king, Church, or God says

Milton What emerges from the “marketplace of ideas”

Enlightenment What is verifiable, replicable, universal

Pragmatists What is filtered through individual perception

While the ancient Greeks tied truth to memory, Plato was the first to link truth to human rationality and intellect. In Republic, Plato equated truth 26with a world of pure form, a world to which human beings had only indirect access. In Plato’s vision, there was an ideal notion of a chair—but that ideal chair did not exist in reality. What people thought of as a chair was as similar to the ideal chair as the shadows on the wall of the cave are to the objects illuminated by the fire. To Plato, truth was knowable only to the human intellect—it could not be touched or verified. We’re living in the cave.