On argumentation in reporting

Perhaps I’m being unfair to journalists, or to writers in general, but I can’t understand how an article like “Labor Campaigns Against Tax on Health Plans,” in The New York Times, could make sense as a piece of writing trying to inform me of something.

Consider (what I think is) the article’s conclusion:

Having failed to persuade President Obama to scrap a proposed tax on high-cost health insurance policies, labor leaders took their case Tuesday to Speaker Nancy Pelosi, and they said they received a more favorable response.

“[Labor leaders] said they received a more favorable response [from Pelosi].” Shouldn’t this be an extraordinarily easy argument to prove? All I need is a to read a labor leader telling me how they were received by Obama, and how much better their reception from Pelosi was.

But what are we told about the reactions of “labor leaders”? Only Andrew Stern saying: “I love the House, and I love the speaker.”

By what rules of logic and argumentation can we reach the conclusion from Stern’s statement?

If no such rule exists, why should we believe what the article is arguing? Why couldn’t the article have simply featured a few quotes?

What upsets me is that the kind of logic on display seems to be common among journalists–those who describe their role as helping people know about what their government is doing. It frustrates me that what passes for political journalism is appears to be devoid of basic argumentative skill.

But, I can’t back up with data the feeling that this writing style is common. It is just memory talking. So, I would welcome arguments to the contrary.

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Journalism: worth philosophy’s time?

Should people study the philosophy of journalism? Take it away, Brian Leiter:

As to why “philosophy of journalism” is not a major topic of philosophical study, I would have thought the answer obvious: it’s not a central or substantial intellectual or cultural practice, unlike science, art, or law.

John Merrill or Clifford Christians et al. might disagree. But, I dunno. What do you say, journalists? Can you defend your profession?

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How best to teach journalism ethics?

Gene Foreman recently applied his 50 years of journalism experience as both an editor and a professor to writing a journalism ethics textbook. But his approach to ethics confuses me on two fronts: Its use of consensus ethical guidelines, and its apparent self-contradiction.

Let me elaborate on these points. I’d love to hear your responses.

I should first mention that I haven’t read Foreman’s book in full. So, I am well aware that all someone needs to do is tell me that Foreman addresses my concerns somewhere in the text, and I will deservedly slink back into my corner. However, the excerpt chapter, table of contents, and index offered on the book’s Web site do not suggest to me the book contains any refutation to what I’m about to say.

Justifying a new approach

The book, as Foreman told an Inquirer reporter, is based on the assumption that studying individual cases is more conducive to ethical development than general theories. The reporter, Michael D. Schaffer, includes quotes from other journalism professors and thinkers supporting Foreman’s position.

Foreman tells Schaffer: “What a lot of the current books do is to say, ‘You figure it out’ … I think [students] ought to know, ‘Here are the consensus guidelines in the profession.’ Here are all the experiences, good and bad, that practicing journalists have had.”

My fairest interpretation of this statement is that Foreman believes students are too inexperienced to contextualize ethical journalistic quandaries with all of the factors likely to influence their decision. Hence, ethics texts ask students to “figure out” a question they cannot construct.

Are practicing journalists that special?

But Foreman responds with the opposite extreme: He constructs for students both the questions and the appropriate answers by grounding an ethics textbook in the “consensus guidelines in the profession.”

Privileging the consensus view does not teach proper behavior; it only discourages challenges to that consensus. Additionally, by deliberately excluding the views of non-journalists, the book assumes that only journalists hold the key to acting ethically, or at least that journalists operate outside of the ethical realm occupied by the rest of us.

Contradiction

Foreman’s approach is also incompatible with one of the reasons, as described by one of Schaffer’s sources, for creating case study-based ethics books.

As Professor David Boeyink told Schaffer, journalism ethics spends “too much time focusing on top-down reasoning as a way of resolving ethical issues … [students need to decide] from the bottom up, focusing largely on the details of cases.”

But if journalism ethics is, in fact, too focused on the “top down,” then why does Foreman outline “the consensus guidelines in the profession”? Are guidelines not a “top” level of reasoning meant to guide the “bottom” reasons — exactly what Boeyink argues textbooks should not provide?

To recap, I disagree with Foreman’s case-study based approach to ethics because (a) it privileges the status quo opinion while discouraging challenge to that opinion; and (b) contradicts the original reasoning behind case study-based texts.

What do you think? Please share your comments.

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Is journalism an ideology?

Update | September 12: Added better examples of dichotomies re. Lefort.

I’ve engaged myself recently with some books on ideology. It’s fascinating stuff, if complex for a neophyte such as myself. My readings have ranged so far from introduction to a brief history of the subject. Lately I’ve tested the deeper philosophical waters. (I’ve listed the books I’ve read and will reference here.)

Like any rich idea (“journalism,” say), the definition of “ideology” is contested. Most of my reading, in fact, has been the product of people arguing why ideology should be considered x and not y.

As interesting as the reading is, I wanted to connect it to my field of study. So I thought of a question: Could journalism be an ideology?

To examine that question we need to take a look at some possible definitions of ideology. After offering these definitions, I’ll try to see how well they align to the practice of journalism. I’ll be simplifying the ideas involved, of course, but I hope they’re fruitful in some small way.

Journalism as ideology: version 1

Seliger argues for an “inclusive” conception of ideology (as opposed to “exclusive”). One of the central tenets of such a position is that “ideology” is a neutral term, not one specifically designed to describe only some sets of beliefs (see next section). It can connote any system of relatively coherent beliefs, including ideas about how the world should be or could be and suggestions for how that state could be achieved.

An ideology, under Seliger, includes sets of attitudes and behavior, of which journalism and journalists hold pretty similar versions. For example, most journalists agree about the need for and benefit of government transparency. They agree that a marketplace of ideas has value in a democracy and that more public debate is preferable to less. For that matter, they agree that democracy has more value than other forms of government.

Journalists also share a general set of behavior in acting on these attitudes — talking with public officials, soliciting opinion from members of the public, “gotcha” questioning, etc. Journalism could be ideological in this sense, even while acknowledging differences of opinion in defining the specifics of concepts like “transparency” or in the ethics of various reporting techniques.

However, Seliger’s definition is broader than just attitudes and behavior. “Ideology is linked to politics no less than all politics are linked to ideology,” he writes. Politics involves more than just ideas — it involves implementing those ideas. People who subscribe to an ideology need a plan for collecting taxes or maintaining a military force.

I’m guessing few journalists would know the first thing about this technical side to ideology. While much of what journalists do may be considered “political” under some academic definitions, I doubt that Seliger’s use of “political” means the same thing.

Journalism as ideology: version 2

In Studies in the Theory of Ideology, John B. Thompson criticizes Seliger’s form of ideology. According to Thompson’s conception, ideology is concerned not only with sets of beliefs but in the specific ideas about the world that develop from and accept asymmetrical power relationships and material conditions among different classes or groups. These relationships range from workers and owners to even parents and children, to savage and civilized, or mad and normal.

Examining the way(s) reporters and journalists contribute to the domination of certain groups and/or dominance of others is really interesting. One of my favorite posts from the last year examined just this sort of process. [1] But I want to try a different approach here.

Thompson summarizes the work of theorist Claude Lefort on “invisible ideology.” One element of “invisible ideology” is an endless, unfulfilling cycle of consumption by people captivated by novel products that, in time, become less novel. Once the product has lost its luster, consumers move along to the next shiny object.

Lefort argues the process is “invisible” because, unlike past systems of totalitarianism, there is no singular voices ordering us to “buy.” We simply figure out the process on our own. Lefort argues this cycle preserves relationships between dominators (who are selling) and dominated (who are buying).

OK, what’s the relationship to journalism?

In a word, advertising. Lefort has a special place in ideological hell reserved for media that deliver the messages of product peddlers who consume themselves into subservience.

News media have, of course, has depended on ads for quite some time. Journalists hence face a contradiction — and not just the conflict of interest between “truth-telling” and not offending the advertisers who fund the paychecks. That conflict can at least be navigated. Instead, the contradiction is between journalism’s stated goals of aiding self-determination and deliberation and the inability to ever pursue them.

For, in Lefort’s mind, self-determination is impossible under the cycle involved in “invisible ideology.” The journalist who displays ads is crippling the efficacy of his or her work before it even begins.

Journalism has an ideological function under this second definition, then, though the result is not as pretty as under Seliger.

Closing

Admittedly, this post was as much to help me solidify these concepts as it was to spark discussion. But I hope the ideas were stimulating. I’d love to hear your thoughts about them in the comments.

The books

The introduction: Political Ideologies: An Introduction, by Andrew Heywood

The history: Ideology, by David McLellan

The deep end: Ideology and Politics, by Martin Seliger, and Studies in the Theory of Ideology, by John B. Thompson.

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Notes

1. Jay Rosen’s Audience Atomization Overcome: Why the Internet Weakens the Authority of the Press described a theory of how reporters can, over time, come to identify more with the interests of those they cover than they can with readers or the public interest at large. (Return to post)