//features//
Fall 2020
Fall 2020
One News, Two News, Red News, Blue News: The Degradation of Discourse in American News Media
Daniel Meadvin
Something we already knew became brazenly explicit recently: the era of balanced journalism is over. Indeed, it is long gone. Bari Weiss--the founding Editor-In-Chief of this publication and an accomplished author--echoed that same notion this summer in an open letter to the New York Times Publisher, A. G. Sulzberger: “The paper of record is, more and more, the record of those living in a distant galaxy, one whose concerns are profoundly removed from the lives of most people.” That is to say, The Times writers, editors, and publishers are out-of-touch or hiding from the myriad viewpoints that exist in our society.
The editorial leaders have manipulated Hallin’s famous spheres—a model by which we measure consensus, legitimate controversy, and deviance. In the sphere of consensus, journalists are encouraged to engage their subjects from the we perspective; it is assumed that all readers agree, for example, that terrorism is evil. In the second sphere, legitimate controversy, authors are expected to write from a neutral perspective or, at least, offer strong evidence to back a claim. Some opinions and topics fall into the deviance sphere, David Duke style rhetoric, and reporters feel comfortable ignoring these.
The sphere of consensus is, in The Times’ view, larger than ever, as is the sphere of deviance. So much of what is written today that utilizes the collective we fails to include many readers’ me.
The last sphere of deviance is so bloated that widely held opinions, not considered controversial only years ago, are banned. Weiss calls this “the ‘new McCarthyism’ that has taken root at the paper of record.”
And the sphere of legitimate controversy? It’s an unattended child, crying in the corner of Sulzberger’s office. There is no need for thorough debate or any debate at all when everyone is expected (required, actually) to agree on, well, just about everything.
All this considered, the word newsroom is more and more a funny sort of euphemism for the other editorial desk, just another staff writing thinly veiled opinion pieces. You might think readers would be getting a plethora of even-handed editorials or even highly opinionated ones from more than one perspective. If this were the case, I’d levy no complaint. But, as Weiss notes, “Op-eds that would have easily been published just two years ago would now get an editor or a writer in serious trouble, if not fired.” She’s not referring to the essays’ quality; it’s the content that is under scrutiny.
Bari Weiss isn’t the only author and intellectual to perceive this issue. In July, 152 others signed a letter published in Harper’s Magazine decrying, among other things, that “Editors are fired for running controversial pieces… journalists are barred from writing on certain topics.” In Hallian terms, where these signatories write controversial they mean deviant. What was once legitimate controversy, these authors alert us, is now deviance.
For example, consider the sexual assault allegations against Brett Kavanaugh and Joe Biden. The New York Times (which, if you haven’t picked up on, is our case-study publication) reported on the accusations against Kavanaugh by one individual, Julie Swetnick, the same day she came forward. On the other hand, The Times also waited nineteen days—that’s close to three weeks for anyone at home doing the math—to publish anything about Tara Reade’s allegations against Joe Biden. Executive Editor Dean Baquet explained the discrepancy, saying, “Kavanaugh was already in a public forum in a large way. [His] status as a Supreme Court justice was in question because of a very serious allegation.” Some might say that Joe Biden--a senator of 36 years, vice president, and then major presidential candidate--was also “in a public forum in a large way.” Baquet continued to explain that, unlike in the case of Kavanaugh, they “needed to introduce [the Tara Reade allegations] with some reporting and perspective,” and therefore needed the full nineteen day gap for due diligence. An interested reader may find more of Baquet’s comments on the subject confusing in some instances and evasive in others, but we must carry on. The point is the allegations against Kavanaugh were considered, by The Times, as universally believable, and therefore reportable--an expansion of the sphere of consensus. Believing the eerily similar allegations against Biden, however, was implicitly deemed a deviant opinion. The Times, consequently, avoided reporting on those allegations until they had no choice.
We are witnessing a new era of journalism. One in which the facts are not merely presented but deliberately qualified, and some facts are simply not presented at all.
This author’s critique of The Times and other publications is not that they publish editorials and op-eds. After all, this piece itself is an editorial. My critique, instead, is that they only publish an oppressively curated selection. Many people don’t know that the term op-ed is actually a shorthand form of opposite the editorial page; the idea being that on one side of a page the publisher would print an editorial, and the other side (often in a future edition) would feature a contrasting argument. But we don’t see many arguments to the contrary anymore. Instead, the editorial page features the expected opinion pieces, and the op-ed page features, well… corroborating opinion pieces. Maybe a keen reader can distinguish a shade or two of difference, but is that really the type of intellectual diversity we’re striving for?
Now, some may respond that my picking on The Times is unfair, because this same issue exists with news outlets on both the right and the left. And, yes, there are certainly right-wing media sources that provide similarly skewed content. However, I would argue a key difference is that most right-wing sources are decidedly not accepted as mainstream. Fox News might be the most watched network in the country, but its entire premise is anti-establishment. Note that I haven’t engaged Breitbart or The Huffington Post in this article, because while both essentially publish partisan propaganda, they do so under clear pretenses. No one reads either of those outlets thinking they’re getting an even-handed offering. This is not true of The Times or CNN or The Washington Post, which all purport to be centrist. The Wall Street Journal, on balance, similarly toes this line when it comes to publishing diverse editorials, but it at least offers a clearer divide between news and opinion. So, yes, in a way I am specifically calling out left-wing media outlets; they’re the ones that most successfully charade as objective. I’m writing this to suggest that news shouldn’t be a game.
None of this is to say that every article and every editorial needs to offer both sides of a debate. That’s not really what the sphere of legitimate controversy is all about. What I am saying is that when we offer an opinion, we should be offering it as our side of the debate, not shoving it into the sphere of consensus. In this way, overtly partisan outlets actually succeed; they’re honest about their perspective. Yes, they argue vigorously, but they do leave some room on the broader, metaphorical page for the other guy to make his case. And if you’re marketing yourself as down-the-middle, then be just that.
It doesn’t take an observational genius to see the severe ideological divisions that exist today. But I don’t think we should be striving for a triumph of middling. We shouldn’t force people to soften their principles for the sake of homogeneity, and we certainly shouldn’t require that they accept our opinions as gospel. We should respect that people are allowed to disagree with us, and from that basic starting point, try and convince them otherwise.
The newsrooms shouldn’t be the arbiter of what’s right and what’s wrong. They should be purveyors of information and well-crafted arguments, helping us to decide what’s right and what’s wrong for ourselves.
Let’s be better, as I know we can be, and push the boundaries of legitimate controversy, together. The best ideas are forged in the crucible of heated debate.
//DANIEL MEADVIN is a sophomore in Columbia College and Politics Editor at The Current. He can be reached at dm3517@columbia.edu.
The editorial leaders have manipulated Hallin’s famous spheres—a model by which we measure consensus, legitimate controversy, and deviance. In the sphere of consensus, journalists are encouraged to engage their subjects from the we perspective; it is assumed that all readers agree, for example, that terrorism is evil. In the second sphere, legitimate controversy, authors are expected to write from a neutral perspective or, at least, offer strong evidence to back a claim. Some opinions and topics fall into the deviance sphere, David Duke style rhetoric, and reporters feel comfortable ignoring these.
The sphere of consensus is, in The Times’ view, larger than ever, as is the sphere of deviance. So much of what is written today that utilizes the collective we fails to include many readers’ me.
The last sphere of deviance is so bloated that widely held opinions, not considered controversial only years ago, are banned. Weiss calls this “the ‘new McCarthyism’ that has taken root at the paper of record.”
And the sphere of legitimate controversy? It’s an unattended child, crying in the corner of Sulzberger’s office. There is no need for thorough debate or any debate at all when everyone is expected (required, actually) to agree on, well, just about everything.
All this considered, the word newsroom is more and more a funny sort of euphemism for the other editorial desk, just another staff writing thinly veiled opinion pieces. You might think readers would be getting a plethora of even-handed editorials or even highly opinionated ones from more than one perspective. If this were the case, I’d levy no complaint. But, as Weiss notes, “Op-eds that would have easily been published just two years ago would now get an editor or a writer in serious trouble, if not fired.” She’s not referring to the essays’ quality; it’s the content that is under scrutiny.
Bari Weiss isn’t the only author and intellectual to perceive this issue. In July, 152 others signed a letter published in Harper’s Magazine decrying, among other things, that “Editors are fired for running controversial pieces… journalists are barred from writing on certain topics.” In Hallian terms, where these signatories write controversial they mean deviant. What was once legitimate controversy, these authors alert us, is now deviance.
For example, consider the sexual assault allegations against Brett Kavanaugh and Joe Biden. The New York Times (which, if you haven’t picked up on, is our case-study publication) reported on the accusations against Kavanaugh by one individual, Julie Swetnick, the same day she came forward. On the other hand, The Times also waited nineteen days—that’s close to three weeks for anyone at home doing the math—to publish anything about Tara Reade’s allegations against Joe Biden. Executive Editor Dean Baquet explained the discrepancy, saying, “Kavanaugh was already in a public forum in a large way. [His] status as a Supreme Court justice was in question because of a very serious allegation.” Some might say that Joe Biden--a senator of 36 years, vice president, and then major presidential candidate--was also “in a public forum in a large way.” Baquet continued to explain that, unlike in the case of Kavanaugh, they “needed to introduce [the Tara Reade allegations] with some reporting and perspective,” and therefore needed the full nineteen day gap for due diligence. An interested reader may find more of Baquet’s comments on the subject confusing in some instances and evasive in others, but we must carry on. The point is the allegations against Kavanaugh were considered, by The Times, as universally believable, and therefore reportable--an expansion of the sphere of consensus. Believing the eerily similar allegations against Biden, however, was implicitly deemed a deviant opinion. The Times, consequently, avoided reporting on those allegations until they had no choice.
We are witnessing a new era of journalism. One in which the facts are not merely presented but deliberately qualified, and some facts are simply not presented at all.
This author’s critique of The Times and other publications is not that they publish editorials and op-eds. After all, this piece itself is an editorial. My critique, instead, is that they only publish an oppressively curated selection. Many people don’t know that the term op-ed is actually a shorthand form of opposite the editorial page; the idea being that on one side of a page the publisher would print an editorial, and the other side (often in a future edition) would feature a contrasting argument. But we don’t see many arguments to the contrary anymore. Instead, the editorial page features the expected opinion pieces, and the op-ed page features, well… corroborating opinion pieces. Maybe a keen reader can distinguish a shade or two of difference, but is that really the type of intellectual diversity we’re striving for?
Now, some may respond that my picking on The Times is unfair, because this same issue exists with news outlets on both the right and the left. And, yes, there are certainly right-wing media sources that provide similarly skewed content. However, I would argue a key difference is that most right-wing sources are decidedly not accepted as mainstream. Fox News might be the most watched network in the country, but its entire premise is anti-establishment. Note that I haven’t engaged Breitbart or The Huffington Post in this article, because while both essentially publish partisan propaganda, they do so under clear pretenses. No one reads either of those outlets thinking they’re getting an even-handed offering. This is not true of The Times or CNN or The Washington Post, which all purport to be centrist. The Wall Street Journal, on balance, similarly toes this line when it comes to publishing diverse editorials, but it at least offers a clearer divide between news and opinion. So, yes, in a way I am specifically calling out left-wing media outlets; they’re the ones that most successfully charade as objective. I’m writing this to suggest that news shouldn’t be a game.
None of this is to say that every article and every editorial needs to offer both sides of a debate. That’s not really what the sphere of legitimate controversy is all about. What I am saying is that when we offer an opinion, we should be offering it as our side of the debate, not shoving it into the sphere of consensus. In this way, overtly partisan outlets actually succeed; they’re honest about their perspective. Yes, they argue vigorously, but they do leave some room on the broader, metaphorical page for the other guy to make his case. And if you’re marketing yourself as down-the-middle, then be just that.
It doesn’t take an observational genius to see the severe ideological divisions that exist today. But I don’t think we should be striving for a triumph of middling. We shouldn’t force people to soften their principles for the sake of homogeneity, and we certainly shouldn’t require that they accept our opinions as gospel. We should respect that people are allowed to disagree with us, and from that basic starting point, try and convince them otherwise.
The newsrooms shouldn’t be the arbiter of what’s right and what’s wrong. They should be purveyors of information and well-crafted arguments, helping us to decide what’s right and what’s wrong for ourselves.
Let’s be better, as I know we can be, and push the boundaries of legitimate controversy, together. The best ideas are forged in the crucible of heated debate.
//DANIEL MEADVIN is a sophomore in Columbia College and Politics Editor at The Current. He can be reached at dm3517@columbia.edu.