Censorship is alive and well at the Pee Dee.
Thank you, Susan Goldberg,
for continuing the fine
tradition that warns all readers that its Cleveland paper
doesn’t carry all the news that fits but all the news the
paper sees as fit for viewing.
That’s the meaning of the
quick demise of blogger Jeff Coryell – hired to blog,
apparently to show the morning newspaper is innovative and
exciting. He was one of four bloggers chosen to write for
Wide Open on the PD site Cleveland.com.
Well, Wide Open became
Selectively Closed rather quickly, after some six weeks.
What’s important about
Coryell’s dismissal is that it reveals that Goldberg carries
on a tradition of censorship well fashioned at the Pee Dee.
The story
goes
that Coryell to continue blogging for the paper’s website
was asked not to write about Rep. Steve LaTourette.
The issue was that Coryell had supported and contributed
financially to LaTourette’s opponent in the last election.
LaTourette apparently discussed this fact with Pee Dee
editorial uber-boss Brent Larkin. The hammer then
fell.
The Pee Dee did not want
Coryell, paid by the Pee Dee, to write about LaTourette on
Wide Open or elsewhere. Surely, the Pee Dee had
recognized at his hiring that here was a partisan writer.
It seems odd that the paper would be so sensitive,
particularly when this online writing likely had very
limited exposure.
So, the not quite with it
and not quite as adventurous as it wishes to be viewed Pee
Dee, played its usual clumsy self.
However, this mind-set is
nothing new. Nor limited to the Pee Dee.
Any reporter who has not
experienced censorship simply hasn’t been truthfully
reporting.
I remember Homer Bigart, a
famed New York Times war correspondent, who said he
never read his pieces in the Times anymore as they
appeared. The editorial process had removed the vital
‘truth’ of his reporting.
Sander Vanocur, a
Vietnam-era NBC-TV reporter, noted the difficulty of
reporters informing the public...
“If you push too hard too
often, you will find yourself odd man out.” Of Vietnam
reporting, Vanocur said that he wished “…now that I had
been as outspoken on the air as I was in private with
friends.”
Wonder how many Iraq war
reporters will or have thought similarly and how much we,
the public, have been deprived of knowing?
Vanocur’s explanation
reflects perfectly how reporters usually act...
“I practiced tactical
dissent, saying just enough in those early days to
register my disagreement with U. S. policy but never
enough to force NBC to a position where the network would
have to say, ‘Tone down your views or get out.’ That, at
least, would have been an issue worth fighting about.”
James Aronson, once a
Times writer, put the censorship issue this way...
“A censorship so subtle
that it invisibly affected everyone on the staff. The
‘approach’ – it was never called a vulgar ‘line’ – was
made clear in casual conversation, in the editing of copy
for ‘clarity,’ and the deletion of any forthright
interpretation as ‘emotionalism.’ Work became a conflict
with conscience, although there was never an open
challenge to conscience.”
Vanocur simplified it:
“I do not recall many incidents of rape, but seduction is
rampant in the television industry.”
So much for freedom of the
press.
One does have to remember
too that Seymour Hersh had to go to a small news syndicate
called Dispatch News Service to get the My Lai Massacre
story into publication. Even then, 14 of 50 major
newspapers given the story by the news service didn’t use
it.
The Pee Dee, as I have known
it, has been clumsier than most. It has censored
reporters when it wants to impart a lesson. The lesson
is quite clear – there are certain people, institutions and
issues best left alone.
Therefore, don’t expect too
much freedom of the press from a newspaper. It
wouldn’t be healthy, as Coryell now knows if he didn’t
already know.
You have to understand that
with information you are dealing with power. Truth is
a powerful commodity. It must be rationed, controlled and
directed. That’s what editors as Ms. Goldberg and
Larkin are hired to do.
The Pee Dee’s discrimination
isn’t simply against bloggers. It has censored even
Pulitzer Prize winners. The paper has always been able
to
attract
good and sometimes great reporters. Then spoil them
and/or their work.
Back in the 1960s, the paper
rejected one of a series of articles about a local
foundation and its conflicting directorships. Dan
Barlett – who has won two Pulitzers and five George Polk
awards – and Terry Sheridan wrote the piece censored at the
Pee Dee. Later it appeared in Point of View, a
newsletter I wrote and published for years. The
article stepped on too many toes cherished of then Pee Dee
Publisher Tom Vail. “What’s wrong with this?” Vail
wrote in a memo about the eight or nine interlocking and
conflicted directors.
Barlett
–
now with Vanity Fair with investigative partner James Steele
–
got shafted by Vail on another series, a brilliant
investigation of the state’s Lima State Hospital’s treatment
of mental patients. Barlett took a job as an attendant
and revealed the institution’s criminality, only to have
himself relieved of further investigation when Vail made a
deal with then Gov. James Rhodes to end the paper’s pursuit
of the wrong-doing.
The Pee Dee has made a habit
of disgracing itself with future two-time Pulitzer Prize
winners. It did similarly with Walt Bogdanich who won
a Pulitzer (and four Polks) with both the Wall Street
Journal and New York Times, where he is now an
editor.
In 1981, Bogdanich broke a
big story for the Pee Dee that Teamster boss Jackie Presser
had been an FBI informer. Later the Pee Dee, under
pressure from its
owners, the Newhouse family, and organized crime figures,
reneged on its expose with a story that was a retraction and
apology. Presser was no longer a snitch. Pee Dee
reporters picketed the paper. One sign read: “When the
news breaks, we apologize.” Bogdanich, of course was
“outraged.” Such events don’t happen any more.
James Naughton was the Pee
Dee political writer in the 1960s. He was covering the
Nixon White House during Watergate for the New York Times,
later became the deputy managing editor of the
Philadelphia Inquirer when it was on a Pulitzer roll and
ended his career as president of the Poynter Institute... a
most distinguished career.
His success, however, came
after being treated shabbily at the Pee Dee. After the
Glenville shootout in 1968, Naughton led an investigation of
the tragedy. The investigation failed to prove that
the riots were simply the product of black nationalists but
raised questions the Pee Dee did not favor. The Pee
Dee refused to publish the results. The
decision-makers ruled that the newspaper’s own assigned
reporters were not competent enough to reach such
conclusions as they had. Shortly thereafter, in
essence the same conclusions were reached in a long New
York Times article about Cleveland’s riot. The Pee
Dee ran a version of the Times report, appropriately
censored, of course.
When Tom Andrzejewski chided
Dick Jacobs about too grand and costly a grand opening of
the government-subsidized Galleria, his column was killed
and Andrzejewski chastised. That column also appeared
in Point of View. Andrzejewski was previously
chastised for writing too favorably about a man who lost two
legs in a railroad accident. Railroad officials
complained. The pain of executives being written about
too harshly in the newspaper apparently trumped the loss of
two legs for editors.
Long-time Pee Dee watchers
will remember Bob Holden. He was assigned to do a
piece on the fight between Cleveland Electric Illuminating
Co. and the city’s electric system during the Dennis
Kucinich days. After starting the assignment, he was
pulled from the story. CEI officials had complained.
His crime? That he would be unfair. Not that he
had been unfair in the past, not that he was presently
unfair. However, the future of his possible unfairness
was being averted, not too unlike Coryell’s fate.
On the other hand, the Pee
Dee has shown incredible tolerance toward its
reporters. During the 1974 strike, the city editor
(Dave Hopcraft) and the Pee Dee I-Team investigator went to
work for Ohio Bell Telephone as did the business editor who
also worked for White Motor, a company the newspaper
covered.
George Steinbrenner, then a
Cleveland mogul, hired 10 striking reporters (six from the
Pee Dee) at $1,000 each to lecture Cleveland schoolchildren
about journalism. Those so employed all had
connections with some aspect of Steinbrenner’s businesses.
Pay for future favors apparently.
It was a season of conflict
of interests for reporters. Utility reporters went to
work for utility companies; TV/radio critics for television
or radio stations; county reporters for county jobs; others
to the sheriff’s office or the sewer district. And on
and on.
What didn’t happen when they
all returned to their jobs was any sort of punishment or
even admonishment for this shabby, unethical behavior.
Therefore, you know the
score. Expect pain if you are aggressive with the
wrong people or institutions and pleasure if you cooperate
with the same agents.
Bloggers do not feel
troubled. You are not being singled out. It is
business as usual.
A Strong Insurgency Provided
Stokes a Lift
The Plain Dealer’s
tribute to the 40th anniversary of the historic election of
Carl Stokes stimulated for me an emotional pull of the past.
It was, as you can tell from
reading Dick Feagler in particular, a time that also stirred
reporters, especially those of us who were in the prime of
their work years. Now it provides a nostalgic mist for
those of a certain age.
It was a reminder of times
that might not have been better than now for many.
Yet, hopes were higher, especially for those on the bottom.
That’s the great difference in today’s
Cleveland.
Carl Stokes represented
something larger than an
individual’s need or want and came at a time in the
life of a city when “something larger” was greedily desired.
He had charm, sparkle and
most of all, youth. He was a black John F. Kennedy
when such allure had been experienced, could still be
recognized and was thus more coveted. He provided it
for this city.
What I thought was missing
from the coverage was the element that made the Stokes
impossible victory possible.
A real Movement of
anger, hope, demands for change and even fear that lifted
Carl Stokes. No doubt
he was able to take advantage of this with his political
skill and agility.
However, he could not have done it without this groundswell
of people power.
After all, his victory came
after the 1965 Hough riots and subsequent summers
of
numerous mini-riots and unrest in the black community.
It wasn’t all smiles and cheers.
Presently,
the city could use the kind of excitement engendered by a
Stokes. However, there isn’t any bottom-up insurgency
in sight to produce the climate for change.